she drank a glass of wine which stood nearly filled. It was sweet, and
she did not know how strong it was. Very soon it made her intensely
drowsy, and she went back to her nursery and shut herself in again,
frightened by cries she heard in the huts and by the hurrying sound of
feet. The wine made her so sleepy that she could scarcely keep her eyes
open and she lay down on her bed and knew nothing more for a long time.
Many things happened during the hours in which she slept so heavily,
but she was not disturbed by the wails and the sound of things being
carried in and out of the bungalow.
When she awakened she lay and stared at the wall. The house was
perfectly still. She had never known it to be so silent before. She
heard neither voices nor footsteps, and wondered if everybody had got
well of the cholera and all the trouble was over. She wondered also who
would take care of her now her Ayah was dead. There would be a new
Ayah, and perhaps she would know some new stories. Mary had been rather
tired of the old ones. She did not cry because her nurse had died. She
was not an affectionate child and had never cared much for anyone. The
noise and hurrying about and wailing over the cholera had frightened
her, and she had been angry because no one seemed to remember that she
was alive. Everyone was too panic-stricken to think of a little girl no
one was fond of. When people had the cholera it seemed that they
remembered nothing but themselves. But if everyone had got well again,
surely someone would remember and come to look for her.
But no one came, and as she lay waiting the house seemed to grow more
and more silent. She heard something rustling on the matting and when
she looked down she saw a little snake gliding along and watching her
with eyes like jewels. She was not frightened, because he was a
harmless little thing who would not hurt her and he seemed in a hurry
to get out of the room. He slipped under the door as she watched him.
How queer and quiet it is, she said. It sounds as if there were no
one in the bungalow but me and the snake.
Almost the next minute she heard footsteps in the compound, and then on
the veranda. They were men s footsteps, and the men entered the
bungalow and talked in low voices. No one went to meet or speak to them
and they seemed to open doors and look into rooms.
5