This is my country, after all, and I should love to lead you about. I am my own mistress for the next few days.’
‘God bless you, my dear: I should like to see the caves of Elephanta, if you please, a bamboo forest, and a tiger.’
‘Elephanta I can promise - we will make up a party at the end of the week and ask Mr Stanhope; he is a charming man - prodigious gallant to me in London - and your parson friend. The bamboo forest, too. The tiger I will not swear to. I am sure the Peshwa will try to drive one for us in the Poona hills; but they have had rain there and with the jungle so thick . . . however, if we do miss of a tiger there, I can promise you half a dozen in Bengal. For when you have set the old gentleman down in Kampong, you must come back to Calcutta, I collect?’
Perhaps it was a mistake to invite Mr Stanhope; the day was intolerably hot and humid; all he wanted to do was to lie on his bed with a punkah sighing over him, at least moving the unbreathable air. But he thought it his duty to wait on Mrs Villiers, and he particularly wished to see Dr Maturin, who had unaccountably vanished these last days; so overcoming his nausea and putting a little carmine on his yellow cheeks, he embarked on the heavy, oily swell, and there being no hint of a breeze they rowed him the six evil miles across the bay.
Mr Atkins sat by him and in a rapid, excited whisper he told His Excellency of the discoveries he had made. Mr Atkins was never long in any community before he mastered all the gossip: he had found out, he said, that this Mrs V was not a respectable person, that she was in fact the mistress of a Jew merchant - ‘a Jew, for God’s sake!’ - and that her impudent presence in Bombay aroused indignation; that Dr Maturin was aware of the couple’s criminal conversation; and that he had therefore betrayed Mr Stanhope into a false position - His Majesty’s representative giving countenance to a connection of this sort!
Mr Stanhope said little in reply, but when he landed he was stiffer and more reserved than usual: in spite of his elaborate courtesy to Diana, his praise for the magnificent array of tents, umbrellas, carpets, cooling drinks (which reminded him of Ascot); for the lumpish statue of the elephant and the astonishing, astonishing wealth of sculpture in the caves, his want of cordial enjoyment affected the whole company.
He called Stephen aside as they were walking to the caves and said, ‘I am very much disturbed in my mind, Dr Maturin; I have word from Captain Aubrey that we are to embark on the seventeenth! I had counted upon at least another three weeks. Dr Clowes’s course of bleeding and slime-?baths lasts another three weeks.’
‘This must be some extravagant wild flight of naval hyperbole. How often do we not read of passengers urged to appear on board at let us say Greenwich or the Downs on a given date, only to find that the mariners have not the least intention of sailing, either for want of inclination or even for the want of the very sails themselves? You may set your mind at rest, sir: to my certain knowledge the Surprise was without her masts only a very short time ago. It is materially impossible she should sail on the seventeenth. I wonder at his precipitancy.’
‘Have you seen Captain Aubrey recently?’
‘I have not. Nor, to my shame, have I called upon Dr Clowes since Friday. Have you found benefit from his slime?’
‘Dr Clowes and his colleagues are excellent physicians, I am sure; and they are most attentive; but they do not seem to have prevailed with the liver complaint. They are afraid it may fly to the stomach, and fix itself there. However. . . my main purpose in begging for these few moments was to tell you that we have received overland despatches on which I should value your advice: and may I at the same time hint that perhaps you have not been quite as assiduous in attending at the office as ideal perfection might require? We have been unable to find you these last days, in spite of repeated applications to the ship and to your lodgings in the town. No doubt your birds have drawn you away - have seduced you from your usual exact punctuality.’
‘I beg pardon, Your Excellency; I shall attend this afternoon, and at the same time we can discuss your liver with Dr Clowes.’
‘I should be most infinitely obliged, Dr Maturin. But we are neglecting our duty in the most disgraceful manner. Dear Mrs Villiers,’ he cried, casting a haggard eye upon the feast spread in front of the caves, ‘this is princely, princely - Lucullus dines with Lucullus, upon my word.’
Mr White, the chaplain, to whom Atkins had at once communicated his discoveries, was as reserved as his patron; he was also deeply shocked by some of the female and hermaphrodite sculptures; and an unidentified creature had bitten him on the left buttock when he sat upon it. He remained heavy and stolid throughout the entertainment.
Mr Atkins and the young men of the envoy’s suite were less affected by the atmosphere, however, and they made enough noise to give the impression of a party that was enjoying itself: Atkins more than any; he was easy and familiar; he talked loudly, without restraint, and during the picnic he called out to Stephen ‘not to let the bottle stand by him - it was not every day they could swill champagne.’ After it he led Diana to a particularly striking group at the back of the second cave, and holding up a lamp he desired her to take notice of the flowing curves, the delicious harmony, the balance, worthy of the well-?known Greek sculptor Phidias. She was astonished at his assurance, the way in which he held her elbow and breathed on her; but supposing that he was in wine she did not formalise upon it - only detached herself, regretted that she had been so simple as to follow him, and rejoiced at the sight of Stephen hurrying towards them.
Mr Atkins continued in high spirits, however, and when the party broke up on the Bombay shore he thrust his head into her palanquin and said, ‘I shall come up and see you one of these evenings,’ adding with an arch look that left her speechless, ‘I know where you live.’
Later that day Stephen returned to the house on Malabar Hill and said to Diana, ‘Mr Stanhope desires his best compliments to Mrs Villiers, and his heartfelt thanks for an unforgettably delightful afternoon. Lady Forbes, your servant. Do not you find it uncommon hot, ma’am?’
Lady Forbes gave him a vague, frightened smile, and presently she left the room.
‘Maturin, did you ever know such a wretched miserable damned picnic in your life?’ said Diana. She was wearing an ugly, hard blue dress, tediously embroidered with pearls, and a rope of very much larger pearls in a loop to her middle. ‘But it was kind of him to send his compliments, his best compliments, to a fallen woman.’
‘What stuff you talk, Villiers,’ he said.
‘I have fallen pretty low for an odious little reptile like that Perkins to take such liberties. Christ, Maturin, this is a vile life. I never go out without the danger of an affront:
and I am alone, cooped up in this foul place all the time. There are only half a dozen women who receive me willingly; and four of them are demireps and the others charitable fools - such company I keep! And the other women I meet, particularly those I knew in India before - oh, how they know how to place their darts! Nothing obvious, because I can hit back and Canning could break their husbands, but sharp enough, and poisonous, my God! You have no notion what bitches women are. It makes me so furious I cannot sleep - I get ill - I am bilious
