Dennis Wheatley - The Rape Of Venice

But Roger soon learned that in India matters were very different. In the early days of the settlements the number of Europeans had been so small that, for the sake of company, the very few gentry among them had been forced to ignore such arbitrary considerations as birth and breeding.

In consequence, matters had continued that way, and now the only qualifications needed for the entree to Government House circles were passable manners, coupled with enough money to keep a good establishment and return hospitality.

During the weeks that followed, Roger and Clarissa had ample evidence of what was meant by hospitality in India. Bengal particularly was a land of 'easy come, easy go'. By judicious bribery, skilful speculation, or even astute honest trading, fortunes could be made in a matter of months, and they were generally spent just as quickly.

Everybody who was anybody at all lived in a house with at the least twenty rooms, kept a score of servants, riding horses, a carriage and palanquins. All the wealthier ones kept open house, had guests staying for months at a stretch, and never knew until the meal was served if they would sit down twelve or thirty to dinner.

Only the cooler hours of the morning were devoted to work. At half-​past three they sat down to an enormous meal, slept after it, and in the evenings amused themselves either with dancing, gambling, music, amateur theatricals, or bachelor suppers from which they were generally carried away by their servants, dead drunk, in the small hours of the morning. It was an uproarious, hectic life, to which only men with iron constitutions could stand up for more than a few seasons and it was not to be wondered at that the Calcutta grave-​yard contained more stones erected to men who had died in their thirties than to stalwarts who had stuck it out till their fifties.

Christmas in strong sunshine was a new experience for Roger and Clarissa, and they were enabled to enjoy it to the full as, at the Beaumont reception, Sir Curtis and his Lady had, once and for all, scotched the scandalous rumour that they were uncle and niece. They now had not a care in the world, except for the swarms of mosquitoes that plagued them nightly and compelled them to sleep under stuffy curtains. To escape this pest, as far as was possible, and the smell of unwashed humanity which pervaded every quarter of the city, they rented a small furnished house on higher ground, some distance from the river, and moved in there early in the New Year of '97.

Mr. William Hickey found it for them and helped install them in it. A few days after Christmas they had had a conference with him about Clarissa's settlement and he proved all in favour of her proceeding with her claim.

He told them that Winters was one of the richest merchant-​houses in Calcutta, and that the late Sidney Winter’s estate must be worth near a quarter of a million; so his son, Gideon, would still be a very lucky young man if he came into the greater part of that sum. He then went on to reason that, in the normal course of events, had the elder Winters married again it would have been to a middle-​aged woman who, on his death, would have been unlikely to find another husband, so would certainly have claimed her legal due; therefore why should not Clarissa do so? He was also firmly of the opinion that to claim less than the full sum would show a lack of conviction in the justice of the claim and, moreover, by demanding the full hundred thousand they would protect themselves against a disappointing final settlement should the judges decide to cut down the award to Clarissa.

'Let us get the maximum award we can,' said Mr. Hickey. 'Then, afterwards, if Mrs. Brook cares to overlook young Gideon's rash and offensive behaviour towards you both, and forgo a moiety of the money, that will be her affair.'

Clarissa shook her head. 'Please, Mr. Hickey, I'd much prefer to have naught to do with it. I wish you to draw up a deed, upon the signing of which I will have made over to Mr. Brook my entire interest in the settlement; then it will be for him to decide how much we should return of whatever sum you succeed in obtaining for us.'

Roger at once saw the way her mind was working. Her one desire was to make him this gift, and by the deed she would have given him whatever the court awarded her. If he chose to return part or all of it to Winters, or give the money to charity for that matter, she could still feel that she had brought him a handsome dowry.

Hickey, however, demurred on the grounds that life in Bengal was a most uncertain asset. Young people as well as old, he told them, were quite frequently taken off overnight by a bloody flux, or a galloping consumption. Tactfully he intimated that should Roger be stricken down and Clarissa find herself unable to produce her marriage lines, apart from the money he could raise for her on this claim she might find herself destitute.

However, after some discussion, Roger suggested a way out. Mr. Hickey should draw up for Clarissa the deed of gift in accordance with her wishes, and for him a will by which he left half his estate to her and the other half to his daughter, Susan; and that was agreed upon.

They found the lawyer a most genial man, and he soon became a close friend of theirs. He was an Irishman, although born in a street off Pall Mall, and the son of a lawyer of the first standing, who had many rich connections. It was, no doubt, mixing with youngsters much better supplied with money than himself that had got him early into trouble, as he was the type of man who could not resist the lure of good company, yet would rather have died than not pay his way.

Over their wine one night he confided to Roger that in his youth he had been 'a rare pickle".

While still a schoolboy, sleeping with his sister's pretty nursemaid had given him a taste for women, and equally early he had developed a liking for strong liquor. These drains upon a slender purse, freely indulged in during many a hectic night out with dissolute young companions, had got him so deeply into debt that no sooner was he apprenticed to the law than he had given way to the temptation to embezzle his master's funds.

His kindly father had paid up for him again and again, and at last sent him with good introductions to the West Indies. But he had failed to make good there and returned to London, where he had again plunged into every sort of excess. Having made the capital too hot for him, he had decided to try India and, although almost without funds, had carried off a rich man's beautiful mistress, who had later lived with him in Calcutta as Mrs. Hickey. To his life-​long distress, this beautiful creature soon met her death from being stricken with a sudden chill; but in other matters her lover had proved more fortunate.

In spite of his heavy drinking, he was shrewd and capable, and his conviviality had proved an asset in the raffish society of Calcutta. Within a few years he had built up a practice that brought him many thousands, and he continued to spend them almost as quickly as he made them; for, although he was now within a year or two of fifty, he was still 'a rare pickle'.

He now had two houses, one in the city and another, which he had had built for himself, farther up the river at the old Dutch settlement of Chinsurah. His cellars were said to contain the finest champagnes, hock and claret in Bengal; he maintained over sixty servants and two pretty concubines. The death of a third, named Jemdanee, in the previous summer was still causing him great sadness. She had been his favourite, and all who had known her spoke of her as quite an exceptional girl, as she spoke English fluently and had been greatly liked by his friends. But her loss did not prevent him continuing to entertain with his accustomed lavishness.

Before moving into their own house, Roger and Clarissa spent a weekend with him at Chinsurah, and they were amazed to find it another 'Grosvenor Square mansion" set down in the middle of the country. But it was equipped with every facility for enjoyment, among them a great gilded barge with a crew of uniformed oarsmen and a private band of instrumentalists. It was through Rickey's having sent them out alone in this luxurious water-​carriage that Clarissa, in great excitement somewhat tinged with awe, suddenly recognised a stretch of the river and realised that she was now actually living the vision she had seen while under Rinaldo Malderini's hypnotic influence.