The ghost of Charlotte Cray, and other storiesMarryat, Florence
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The ghost of Charlotte Cray, and other stories
Marryat, Florence
English fiction -- 19th century; Ghost stories, English; Short stories, English
But Colonel Dunstan’s allusion to her want of spirits has recalled all
her jealousy of Mrs. Lawless to Ethel’s mind, and the journey to
England finds no favour in her eyes.
“You want me to go away for a twelvemonth,” she says sharply, “and
pray what is to become of you meanwhile?”
“I must stay here. You know I cannot leave India.”
“You will stay with Mrs. ----, I mean with the regiment, whilst I go
home with the child.”
“Yes. What else can I do?”
“Then I shall _not_ go. I refuse to leave you.”
“Not even for Katie’s sake?”
“We will take her somewhere else. There are plenty of places in India
where we can go for change of air; and if you _cared_ for me, Charlie,
you would never contemplate such a thing as a whole year’s
separation.”
“Do you think I _like_ the idea, Ethel? What should I do left here all
by myself? I only proposed it for your sake and the child’s.”
“I will not go,” repeats Mrs. Dunstan, firmly, and she sends for Dr.
MacQuirk and has a long talk with him.
“Dr. MacQuirk, is it an absolute necessity that Katie should go to
England?”
“Not an absolute necessity, my dear leddy, but, from a mee-dical point
of view, advisable. And your own hee-alth also--”
“Bother my health!” she cries irreverently. “What is the nearest place
to which I could take the child for change?”
“You might take her to the Heels, Mrs. Doonstan--to the heels of
Mandalinati, which are very salubrious at this time of the year.”
“And how far off are they?”
“A matter of a coople of hundred miles. Ye canna get houses there, but
there is a cairs-tle on the broo’ o’ the Heel that ye may have for the
airsking.”
“A castle, that sounds most romantic? And whom must we ask, doctor?”
“The cairs-tle is the property of Rajah Mati Singh, and he bee-lt it
for his ain plee-sure, but he doesna’ ceer to leeve there, and so he
will lend it to any Europeans who weesh for a change to the Heels of
Mandalinati.”
“Rajah Mati Singh! That horrid man! There will be no chance of seeing
him, will there?”
“No, no, Mrs. Doonstan! the Rajah will not trouble ye! He never goes
near the cairs-tle noo, and ye will have the whoole place to yersel’
in peace and quietude.”
“I will speak to the colonel about it directly he comes in. Thank you
for your information, Dr. MacQuirk. If we must leave Mudlianah, I
shall be delighted to stay for a while at this romantic castle on the
brow of the hill.
“Yes,” she says to herself, when the doctor is gone, “we shall be
alone there, I and my Charlie, and it will seem like the dear old
honeymoon time, before we came to live amongst these horrid flirting
cats of women, and perhaps some of the old memories will come back to
him, and we shall be happy, foolish lovers again as we used to be long
ago before I was so miserable.”
But when Colonel Dunstan hears of the proposed visit to the
Mandalinati Hills, he does not seem to approve of it half so much as
he did of the voyage to England.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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