A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian LifeRae, Janet Milne
History
A Bottle in the Smoke: A Tale of Anglo-Indian Life
Rae, Janet Milne
India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
The dinner was now over, and the soft-footed servants having arranged
the fruit and wine, had retired. When Mark saw Moideen's retreating
figure, he was reminded of the incident of the morning.
"Has Zynool a twin-brother in town or anywhere?" he asked.
"I hope not; one of Zynool's kidney is quite enough!"
"I ask because I saw, on my way from the station, a man exactly like him
in close conversation with your butler."
"Zynool himself, no doubt! I wish he would let Moideen alone. I suspect
there has been more mischief done than I'm aware of by these two
hobnobbing," said the Collector irritably.
"No, it couldn't have been Zynool. There's the puzzle. Because I happen
to have seen Zynool stepping into the train for Madras. It's really
mystifying, now I come to think of it! If the man was not Zynool, as is
physically impossible, it must have been his double."
"I have it," exclaimed Mr. Worsley. "It must have been my _Tahsildar_ at
Lerode, Mahomet Usman. I once saw him and Zynool side by side, and I own
the likeness was remarkable. I happened to mention the fact and observed
they both looked displeased. Mahomet Usman looked particularly glum and
vowed he was no relative of Zynool's. But if the man is about to-day,
why did he not present himself at the office? However, I shall clear the
matter up soon, for I have intimated a visit to him to-morrow. I wonder
he didn't look in when he was here. But there's no use trying to fathom
these natives. Let's get to our cheroots and pass to pleasanter topics."
Mr. Worsley seemed in such comfortable health and spirits when Mark bade
him good-night, that he was not a little surprised next morning when, at
the hour appointed for starting on tour, one of the clerks who was to
accompany the party called at his bungalow to say that the Collector was
reported very unwell--quite unable to move from his bed, far less to
travel.
Mark hurried to his chief to find him haggard and suffering. He wished
at once to summon the doctor, but the Collector had a prejudice against
all medical surveillance and would not hear of it, setting down his
symptoms to mere biliousness caused by Moideen's efforts to please his
palate. He certainly recovered wonderfully before evening, but on Mark's
visiting him early next morning he found him suffering violent pain and
attacked at intervals by severe sickness. This time he did not wait to
consult the sufferer, but went at once to summon Dr. Campbell, just
catching him before he started for the Dispensary in the town.
The doctor soon showed by his manner that he regarded the case as
serious. The patient was fast sinking into a comatose condition. After a
minute examination Dr. Campbell turned to Mark, and taking him aside
told him that he had no doubt it was a case of poisoning, probably an
overdose administered last night, which, with the help of the milder one
on the previous night, was threatening to prove very serious.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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