In accordance with English usages, Mr Bhosh, being now officially engaged to the fair Princess Jones, did dance daily attendance in her company, and, she being pa.s.sionately fond of equitation, he was compelled himself to become the Centaur and act as her _cavalier servant_ on a nag which was furnished throughout by a West End livery jobber. Fortunately, he displayed such marvellous dexterity and skill as an equestrian that he did not once sustain a single reverse!
Truly, it was a glorious and n.o.ble sight to behold Bindabun clinging with imperturbable calmness to the saddle of his steed, as it ambled and gamboled in so spirited a manner that all the fashionables made sure that he was inevitably to slide over its tail quarters! But invariably he returned, having suffered no further inconvenience than the bereavement of his tall hat, and the heart of Princess Petunia was uplifted with pride when she saw that her betrothed, in addition to being a B.A. and barrister-at-law, was also such a rough rider.
It is _de rigueur_ in all civilised societies to encourage matrimony by bestowing rewards upon those who are about to come up to the scratch of such holy estate, and consequently splendid gifts of carriage, timepieces, tea-caddies, slices of fish, jewels, blotter-cases, biscuit-caskets, cigar-lights, and pin-cushions were poured forth upon Mr Bhosh and his partner, as if from the inexhaustibly bountiful horn of a Pharmacopoeia.
Last, but not least, one morning appeared a _saice_ leading an unwieldy steed of the complexion of a chestnut, and bearing an anonymously-signed paper, stating that said horse was a connubial gift to Mr Bhosh from a perfervid admirer.
Our friend Bindabun was like to throw his bonnet over the mills with excessive joy, and could not be persuaded to rest until he had made a trial trip on his gifted horse, while the amiable Princess readily consented to become his companion.
So, on a balmy and luscious afternoon in Spring, when the mellifluous blackbirds, sparrows, and other fowls of that ilk were engaged in billing and cooing on the foliage of innumerable trees and bushes, and the blooming flowers were blowing proudly on their polychromatic beds, Mr Bhosh made the ascension of his gifthorse, and t.i.tupped by the side of his betrothed into the Row, the observed of all the observing masculine and feminine smarties.
But, hoity-toity! he had not t.i.tupped very many yards when the unwieldy steed came prematurely to a halt and adopted an unruly deportment. Mr Bhosh inflicted corporal punishment upon its loins with a golden-headed whip, at which the rebellious beast erected itself upon its hinder legs until it was practically a biped.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE CANTANKEROUS STEED EXECUTED A LEAP WITH ASTOUNDING AGILITY (Ill.u.s.tration V)]
Bindabun, although at the extremity of his wits to preserve his saddle by his firm hold on the bridle-rein, undauntedly aimed a swishing blow at the head and front of the offending animal, which instantaneously returned its forelegs to _terra firma_, but elevated its latter end to such a degree that our hero very narrowly escaped sliding over its neck by cleverly clutching the saddleback.
Next, the cantankerous steed executed a leap with astounding agility, arching its back like a bow, and propelling our poor friend into the air like the arrow, though by providential luck and management on his part he descended safely into his seat after every repet.i.tion of this dangerous manoeuvre.
All things, however, must come to an end at some time, and the unwieldy quadruped at last became weary of leaping and, securing the complete control of his bit, did a bolt from the blue.
w.i.l.l.y nilly was Mr Bhosh compelled to accompany it upon its mad, unbridled career, while all witnesses freely hazarded the conjecture that his abduction would be rather speedily terminated by his being left behind, and I will presume to maintain that a less practical horseman would long before have become an ordinary pedestrian.
But Bindabun, although both stirrupholes were untenanted, and he was compelled to hold on to his steed"s mane by his teeth and nails, nevertheless remained triumphantly in the ascendant.
On, on he rushed, making the entire circ.u.mference of the Park in his wild, delirious canter, and when the galloping horse once more reappeared, and Mr Bhosh was perceived to be still snug on his saddle, the spectators were unable to refrain from heartfelt joy.
A second time the incorrigible courser careered round the Park on his thundering great hoofs, and still our heroic friend preserved his equilibrium--but, heigh-ho! I have to sorrowfully relate that, on his third circuit, it was the different pair of shoes--for the headstrong animal, abstaining from motion in a rather too abrupt manner, propelled Mr Bhosh over its head with excessive velocity into the elegant interior of a victoria-carriage.
He alighted upon a great dame who had maliciously been enjoying the spectacle of his predicament, but who now was forced to experience the crushing repartee of his _tu quoque_, for such a forcible collision with his person caused her not only two blackened optics but irremediable damage to the leather of her nose.
The pristine beauty of her features was irrecoverably dismantled, while Mr Bhosh--thanks to his landing on such soft and yielding material--remained intact and able to return to his domicile in a four-wheeled cab.
Beloved reader, however sceptical thou mayest be, thou wilt infallibly admire with me the inscrutable workings of Nemesis, when thou learnest that the aforesaid great lady was no other than the d.u.c.h.ess of d.i.c.kinson, and (what is still more wonderful) that it was she who had insidiously presented him with such a fearful gift of the Danaides as an obstreperous and unwieldy steed!
Truly, as poet Shakespeare sagaciously observes, there is a divinity that rough-hews our ends, however we may endeavour to preserve their shapeliness!
CHAPTER VIII
A RIGHTABOUT FACER FOR MR BHOSH
Halloo! at a sudden your love warfare is changed!
Your dress is changed! Your address is changed!
Your express is changed! Your mistress is changed!
Halloo! at a sudden your funny fair is changed!
_A song sung by Messengeress Binda before Krishnagee_ _Dr. Ram Kinoo Dutt (of Chittagong)._
Those who are _au faits_ in the tortoise involutions of the feminine disposition will hear without astonishment that d.u.c.h.ess d.i.c.kinson--so far from being chastened and softened by the circ.u.mstance that the curse she had launched at Mr Bhosh"s head had returned, like an illominous raven, to roost upon her own nose and irreparably destroy its contour--was only the more bitterly incensed against him.
Instead of interring the hatchet that had flown back, as if it were that fabulous volatile the boomerang, she was in a greater stew than ever, and resolved to leave no stone unturned to trip him up. But what trick to play, seeing that all the honours were in Mr Bhosh"s hands?
She could not officiate as Marplot to discredit him in the affections of his lady-love, since the Princess was too severely enamoured to give the loan of her ear to any sibillations from a snake in gra.s.s.
How else, then, to hinder his match? At this she was seized with an idea worthy of Maccaroni himself. She paid a complimentary visit to the Princess, arrayed in the sheepish garb of a friend, and contrived to lure the conversation on to the vexed question of prying into futurity.
Surely, she artfully suggested, the Princess at such a momentous epoch of her existence had, of course, not neglected the sensible precaution of consulting some competent soothsayer respecting the most propitious day for her nuptials with the accomplished Mr Bhosh?...
What, had she omitted to pop so important a question? How incredibly harebrained! Fortunately, there was yet time to do the needful, and she herself would gladly volunteer to accompany the Princess on such an errand.
Princess Petunia fell a ready victim into the jaws of this diabolical b.o.o.by-trap and inquired the address and name of the cleverest necromancer, for it is matter of notoriety that London ladies are quite as superst.i.tious and addicted to working the oracle as their native Indian sisters.
The d.u.c.h.ess replied that the Astrologer-Royal was a _facile princeps_ at uttering a prediction, and accordingly on the very next day she and the Princess, after disguising themselves, set forth on the summit of a tramway "bus to the Observatory Temple of Greenwich, where, after first propitiating the prophet by offerings, they were ushered into a darkened inner chamber. Although they were strictly _pseudo_, he at once informed them of their genuine cognomens, and also told them much concerning their past of which they had hitherto been ignorant.
And to the Princess he said, stroking the long and silvery hairs of his beard, "My daughter, I foresee many calamities which will inevitably befall thee shouldest thou marry before the day on which the bridegroom wins a certain contest called the Derby with a horse of his own."
The gentle Petunia departed melancholy as a gib cat, since Mr Bhosh was not the happy possessor of so much as a single racing-horse of any description, and it was therefore not feasible that he should become ent.i.tled to wear the _cordon bleu_ of the turf in his b.u.t.tonhole on his wedding day!
With many sighs and tears she imparted her piece of news to the horror-stricken ears of our hero, who earnestly a.s.sured her that it was contrary to commonsense and _bonos mores_, to attach any importance to the mere _ipse dixit_ of so antiquated a charlatan as the Astrologer-Royal, who was utterly incapable--except at very long intervals--to bring about even such a simple affair as an eclipse which was visible from his own Observatory!
[Ill.u.s.tration: "MY DAUGHTER, I FORESEE MANY CALAMITIES WHICH WILL INEVITABLY BEFALL THEE" (Ill.u.s.tration VI)]
However, the Princess, being a feminine, was naturally more p.r.o.ne to puerile credulities, and very solemnly declared that nothing would induce her to kneel by Mr Bhosh"s side at the torch of Hymen until he should first have distinguished himself as a Derby winner.
Whereat Mr Bhosh, perceiving that the date of his nuptial ceremony was become a _dies non_ in a Grecian calendar, did wring his hands in a bath of tears.
Alas! he was totally unaware that it was his implacable enemy, the d.u.c.h.ess d.i.c.kinson, who had thus upset his apple-cart of felicity--but so it was, for by a clandestine bribe, she had corrupted the Astrologer-Royal--a poor, weak, very avaricious old chap--to trump out such a disastrous prediction.
Some heroes in this hard plight would have thrown up the leek, but Mr Bhosh was stuffed with sterner materials. He swore a very long oath by all the G.o.ds that he had ceased to believe in, that sooner or later, by crook or hook, he would win the Derby race, though entirely dest.i.tute of horseflesh and very ill able to afford to purchase the most mediocre quadruped.
Here some sporting readers will probably object! Why could he not enlist his unwieldy gifthorse among Derby candidates and so hoist the d.u.c.h.ess on the pinnacle of her own petard?
To which I reply: Too clever by halves, Misters! _Imprimis_, the steed in question was of far too ferocious a temperament (though undeniably swift-footed) ever to become a favourite with Derby judges; secondly, after dismounting Mr Bhosh, it had again taken to its heels and departed into the Unknown, nor had Mr Bhosh troubled himself to ascertain its private address.
But fortune favours the brave. It happened that Mr Bhosh was one day promenading down the Bayswater Road when he was pa.s.sed by a white horse drawing a milk chariot with unparalleled velocity, outstripping omnibuses, waggons, and even butcher-carts in its wind-like progress, which was unguided by any restraining hand, for the milk-charioteer himself was pursuing on foot.
His natural puissance in equine affairs enabled Mr Bhosh to infer that the steed which could cut such a record when handicapped with a c.u.mbrous dairy chariot would exhibit even greater speed if in _puris naturalibus_, and that it might even not improbably carry off first prize in the Derby race.
So, as the milk-charioteer ran up, overblown with anxiety, to learn the result of his horse"s escapade, Mr Bhosh stopped him to inquire what he would take for such an animal.
The dairy-vendor, rather foolishly taking it for granted that horse and cart were gone concerns, thought he was making the good stroke of business in offering the lot for a twenty-pound note.
"I have done with you!" cried Mr Bhosh sharply, handing over the purchase-money, which he very fortunately chanced to have about him, and galloping off to inspect his bargain, which was like buying a pig after once poking it in the ribs.
In what condition he found it I must leave you to learn, my dear readers, in an ensuing chapter.