I began heartily to wish myself out of Siam, though still deeply
interested and absorbed in my work of educating the prince,--the
present King of Siam,--for I felt that, with regard to foreigners,
there existed no laws and customs to restrain and limit the capricious
temper and extravagant demands of the king, and I had everything, too,
to fear from the jealousy with which certain royal courtiers and judges
watched my previously growing influence at court. The heat of the day
had been intense, the atmosphere was sultry and oppressive, and every
now and then a low, rumbling sound of distant thunder reached my ears,
while the parched trees and leaves drooped and hung their heads as if
impatient of waiting for the promised rain. Nervous, and undecided what
to do, I returned home, where I remained prostrated with a sense of
approaching danger. From time to time I had had similar conflicts with
the king, which very greatly disturbed my already too much impaired
health. All manner of fears which the mind so prodigally produces on
such occasions came crowding upon me that evening, and I felt, as I had
never before, weighed down by the peculiar sadness and isolation of my
life in Siam.
In this frame of mind I sat and pondered over and over again the
only course remaining open to me,--to withdraw from the court,--when
I was suddenly recalled to what was passing around me by what I at
first imagined must be an apparition or some delusion of my own mind.
I started up from the spot where for hours I had been seated like a
statue, and, looking more attentively, perceived a pair of bright black
eyes watching me with the fixedness of a basilisk, through the leaves
of some flowering shrubs that grew over my window. My first impulse was
to scream for help; but I was soon ashamed of my fears, and, summoning
all my courage, I demanded, "Who is there?"
"It is only me, your ladyship," said a strange, low voice. "I have been
waiting here a long while, but your servants would not let me in; they
say you have forbidden them to let any Siamese person enter your house
after sunset."
"It is true," said I; "I don't want to see any one this evening; I am
ill and tired. Now go away, and, if you have any business with me, come
to me in the morning."
"P'hoodth thô!" said the woman, speaking still in the same low tones;
"I am not a Siamese, and you do not know that I have rowed thirty miles
against the tide to come and see you, or else you could not have the
heart to send me away."
"I don't want to know anything," I said a little impatiently; "you must
go now, and you know it is not safe for you to be away from home at
this late hour in the day."
"O lady! do let me in; I only want to say one word to you in private;
please do let me in," whispered the woman, more and more pleadingly.
"Then say what you have to tell me at once, and from where you are,"
I replied; "there is no one here to overhear you; for I cannot let you
in."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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