India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
The wind was fair, and, with every sail set, the gallant bark, on the
top of the white crested foam of the rippling waves, floated proudly out
to sea, and was soon hull down in the distance, her tall tapering spars
fading from view, for the bright orb of day had already sank beneath its
ocean bed, and the golden tints of the horizon were fast deepening to
the purple shades of night. There were but three other passengers, an
old Major of Artillery, a merchant of Cape Town, and a juvenile Ensign
of Infantry, going out to join his regiment. There were no other ladies
on board; this was a source of infinite satisfaction to the flying
widow, who, from prudential motives, had engaged her passage under the
name of Mrs. Harcourt Grenville, and fears for her personal safety were
completely set at rest on finding that the news of the accident by rail,
which had cost Sir Ralph Coleman his life, had not reached the ear of
any person on board, and she, herself, was not quite certain but that
her accomplice in fraud might yet survive; if so, her condition was
still very precarious, but she argued that he would scarcely recover, or
he would not have committed himself by making known to the world his
share in the transaction concerning the stolen will, and under the
assumed name, and in a distant land, she would be secure from detection.
She had no intention of remaining at the Cape; her object was to try her
fortune in India, and had only come on board the "Kaffir Chief," as it
afforded her the earliest opportunity for evading pursuit. She was well
aware that she could easily proceed to India from the Cape in one of the
Indiamen that so frequently touched at that port, and so, on the whole,
she felt tolerably easy in her new position, and set to work, with her
usual tact, to make herself agreeable to the Captain and her fellow
travellers. Ensign Winterton she took under her especial protection,
which very much flattered his boyish pride; made considerable headway
with Major Dowlas, who, by the way, was a bachelor; and never failed to
accept the proffered arm of the attentive Captain, when on deck; for
although married and on the wrong side of fifty, being an Irishman and a
Corkonian, he was not insensible to the charms of a handsome woman some
years his junior.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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