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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:37:35 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:37:35 -0700 |
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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/11691-0.txt b/11691-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..89ac5c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/11691-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8947 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11691 *** + +DRIFTWOOD SPARS + +THE STORIES OF A MAN, A BOY, A WOMAN, AND CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE WHO +STRANGELY MET UPON THE SEA OF LIFE + +BY + +CAPTAIN PERCIVAL CHRISTOPHER WREN, I.A.R. + +AUTHOR OF "DEW AND MILDEW", "FATHER GREGORY", "SNAKE AND SWORD", ETC. + + "Like driftwood spars which meet and pass + Upon the boundless ocean-plain, + So on the sea of life, alas! + Man nears man, meets, and leaves again" + +--MATTHEW ARNOLD + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED WIFE + + + + +NOTE.--This book was written in the year 1912 + + + + +CONTENTS. + +I. THE MAN (Mainly concerning the early life of John, Robin +Ross-Ellison.) + +II. THE BOY (Mainly concerning the life of Moussa Isa Somali.) + +III. THE WOMAN (And Augustus Grabble; General Murger; Sergeant-Major +Lawrence-Smith; Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr. Horace Faggit; +as well as a reformed JOHN ROBIN ROSS-ELLISON.) + +IV. "MEET AND LEAVE AGAIN" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE MAN. + +(Mainly concerning the early life of John Robin Ross-Ellison.) + + +Truth is stranger than fiction, and many of the coincidences of real +life are truly stranger than the most daring imaginings of the +fictionist. + +Now, I, Major Michael Malet-Marsac, happened at the moment to be +thinking of my dear and deeply lamented friend John Ross-Ellison, and to +be pondering, for the thousandth time, his extraordinary life and more +extraordinary death. Nor had I the very faintest notion that the +Subedar-Major had ever heard of such a person, much less that he was +actually his own brother, or, to be exact, his half-brother. You see I +had known Ross-Ellison intimately as one only can know the man with whom +one has worked, soldiered, suffered, and faced death. Not only had I +known, admired and respected him--I had loved him. There is no other +word for it; I loved him as a brother loves a brother, as a son loves +his father, as the fighting-man loves the born leader of fighting-men: I +loved him as Jonathan loved David. Indeed it was actually a case of +"passing the love of women" for although he killed Cleopatra Dearman, +the only woman for whom I ever cared, I fear I have forgiven him and +almost forgotten her. + +But to return to the Subedar-Major. "Peace, fool! Art blind as Ibrahim +Mahmud the Weeper," growled that burly Native Officer as the zealous and +over-anxious young sentry cried out and pointed to where, in the +moonlight, the returning reconnoitring-patrol was to be seen as it +emerged from the lye-bushes of the dry river-bed. + +A recumbent comrade of the outpost sentry group sniggered. + +My own sympathies were decidedly with the sentry, for I had fever, and +"fever is another man". In any case, hours of peering, watching, +imagining and waiting, for the attack that will surely come--and never +comes--try even experienced nerves. + +"And who was Ibrahim the Weeper, Subedar-Major Saheb?" I inquired of the +redoubtable warrior as he joined me. + +"He was my brother's enemy, Sahib," replied Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan, principal Native Officer of the 99th Baluch Light Infantry +and member of the ruling family of Mekran Kot in far Kubristan. + +"And what made him so blind as to be for a proverb unto you?" + +"Just some little drops of water, Sahib, nothing more," replied the big +man with a smile that lifted the curling moustache and showed the +dazzling perfect teeth. + +It was bitter, bitter cold--cold as it only can be in hot countries (I +have never felt the cold in Russia as I have in India) and the khaki +flannel shirt, khaki tunic, shorts and putties that had seemed so hot +in the cruel heat of the day as we made our painful way across the +valley, seemed miserably inadequate at night, on the windy hill-top. +Moreover I was in the cold stage of a go of fever, and to have escaped +sunstroke in the natural oven of that awful valley at mid-day seemed but +the prelude to being frost-bitten on the mountain at midnight. +Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan appeared wholly +unaffected by the 100° variation in temperature, but then he had a few +odd stone of comfortable fat and was bred to such climatic trifles. He, +moreover, knew not fever, and, unlike me, had not experienced dysentery, +malaria, enteric and pneumonia fairly recently. + +"And had the hand of your brother anything to do with the little drops +of water that made Ibrahim the Weeper so blind?" I asked. + +"Something, Sahib," replied Mir Daoud Khan with a laugh, "but the hand +of Allah had more than that of my brother. It is a strange story. True +stories are sometimes far stranger than those of the bazaar tale-tellers +whose trade it is to invent or remember wondrous tales and stories, +myths, and legends." + +"We have a proverb to that effect, Mir Saheb. Let us sit in the shelter +of this rock and you shall tell me the story. Our eyes can work while +tongue and ear play--or would you sleep?" + +"_Nahin_, Sahib! Am I a Sahib that I should regard night as the time +wholly sacred to sleep and day as the time when to sleep is sin? I will +tell the Sahib the tale of the Blindness of Ibrahim Mahmud the Weeper, +well knowing that he, a truth-speaker, will believe the truth spoken by +his servant. To no liar would it seem possible. + +"Know then, Sahib, that this brother of mine was not my mother's son, +though the son of my father (Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan Mir Faquir Mahommed +Afzul Khan), who was the youngest son of His Highness the Jam Saheb of +Mekran Kot in Kubristan. And he, my father, was a great traveller, a +restless wanderer, and crossed the Black Water many times. To Englistan +he went, and without crossing water he also went to the capital of the +Amir of Russia to say certain things, quietly, from the King of Islam, +the Amir of Afghanistan. To where the big Waler horses come from he also +went, and to where they take the camels for use in the hot and sandy +northern parts." + +"Yes, Australia" I remarked. + +"Without doubt, if the Sahib be pleased to say it. And there, having +taken many camels in a ship that he might sell them at a profit, he +wedded a white woman--a woman of the race of the Highland soldiers of +Englistan, such as are in this very Brigade." + +"Married a Scotchwoman?" + +"Without doubt. Of a low caste--her father being a drunkard and landless +(though grandson of a Lord Sahib), living by horses and camels menially, +out-casted, a jail-bird. Formerly he had carried the mail through the +desert, a fine rider and brave man, but _sharab_[1] had loosened the +thigh in the saddle and palsied hand and eye. On hearing this news, the +Jam Saheb was exceeding wroth, for he had planned a good marriage for +his son, and he arranged that the woman should die if my father, on +whom be Peace, brought her to Mekran Kot. 'Tis but desert and mountain, +Sahib, with a few big _jagirs_[2] and some villages, a good fort, a +crumbling tower, and a town on the Caravan Road--but the Jam Saheb's +words are clearly heard and for many miles. + + [1] Wine. + [2] Estates. + +"Our father, however, was not so foolish as to bring the woman to his +home, for he knew that Pathan horse-dealers, camel-men, and traders +would have taken the truth, and more than the truth, concerning the +woman's social position to the gossips of Mekran Kot. And, apart from +the fact that her father was a drunkard, landless, a jail-bird, +out-casted by his caste-fellows, no father loves to see his son marry +with a woman of another community, nor with any woman but her with whose +father he has made his arrangements. + +"So my father, bringing the fair woman, his wife, by ship to Karachi, +travelled by the _rêlwêy terain_ to Kot Ghazi and left her there in +India, where she would be safe. There he left her with her _butcha_,[3] +my half-brother, and journeyed toward the setting sun to look upon the +face of his father the Jam Saheb. And the Jam Saheb long turned his face +from him and would not look upon him nor give him his blessing--and only +relented when my father took to himself another wife, my mother, the +lady of noble birth whom the Jam Saheb had desired for him--and +sojourned for a season at Mekran Kot. But after I was born of this union +(I am of pure and noble descent) his heart wearied, being with the fair +woman at Kot Ghazi, for whom he yearned, and with her son, his own son, +yet so white of skin, so blue of eye, the fairest child who ever had a +Pathan father. Yea, my brother was even fairer than I, who, as the +Huzoor knoweth, have grey eyes, and hair and beard that are not darkly +brown. + + [3] Baby. + +"So my father began to make journeys to Kot Ghazi to visit the woman his +first wife, and the boy his first-born. And she, who loved him much, and +whom he loved, prevailed upon him to name my brother after _her_ father +as well as after himself, the child's father (as is our custom) and so +my brother was rightly called Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan." + +"And what part of that is the name of his mother's father?" I asked, for +the Subedar-Major's rapid utterance of the name conveyed nothing of +familiar English or Scottish names to my mind. + +"Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan," replied Mir Daoud Khan; "that was her +father's name, Sahib." + +"Say it again, slowly." + +"Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan." + +"I have it! Yes, but _what_?--John Robin Ross-Ellison? Good God! But _I_ +knew a John Robin Ross-Ellison when _I_ was a Captain. He was Colonel of +the Corps of which I was Adjutant, in fact--the Gungapur Volunteer +Rifles.... By Jove! That explains a lot. _John Robin Ross-Ellison_!" + +I was too incredulous to be astounded. It _could_ not be. + +"_Han_[4] Sahib, _bé shak_![5] Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan was his name. And his mother called him +Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan and his father, Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, called +him Ilderim Dost Mahommed." + + [4] Yes. + [5] Without doubt. + +"H'm! A Scotch Pathan, brought up by an Australian girl in India, would +be a rare bird--and of rare possibilities naturally," I murmured, while +my mind worked quickly backward. + +"My brother was unlike us in some things, Sahib. He was fond of the +_sharab_ called '_Whisky_' and of dogs; he drank smoke from the cheroot +after the fashion of the Sahib-log and not from the hookah nor the +_bidi_;[6] he wore boots; he struck with the clenched fist when angered; +and never did he squat down upon his heels nor sit cross-legged upon the +ground. Yet he was true Pathan in many ways during his life, and he died +as a Pathan should, concerning his honour (and a woman). Yea--and in his +last fight, ere he was hanged, he killed more men with his long Khyber +knife, single-handed against a mob, than ever did lone man before with +cold steel in fair fight." + + [6] Native cigarette. + +Then it was so. And the Subedar-Major was John Robin Ross-Ellison's +brother! + +"He may have been foolishly kind to women, servants and dogs, and of a +foolish type of honour that taketh not every possible advantage of the +foe--but he was very brave, Huzoor, a strong enemy, and when he began he +made an end, and if that same honour were affronted he killed his man. +And yet he did not kill Ibrahim Mahmud the Weeper, who surely earned his +death twice, and who tried to kill him in a manner most terrible to +think of. No, he did not--but it shall be told.... And the white woman +prevailed upon our father to make her man-child a Sahib and to let him +go to the _maktab_[7] and _madressah-tul-Islam_[8] at Kot Ghazi, to +learn the clerkly lore that gives no grip to the hand on the sword-hilt +and lance-shaft nor to the thighs in the saddle, no skill to the fingers +on the reins, no length of sight to the eye, no steadiness to the rifle +and the lance, no understanding of the world and men and things. But our +father corrected all this, that the learning might do him no harm, for +oft-times he brought him to Mekran Kot (where my mother tried to poison +him), and he took him across the Black Water and to Kabul and Calcutta +and showed him the world. Also he taught him all he knew of the horse, +the rifle, the sword, and the lance--which was no small matter. Thus, +much of the time wasted at school was harmless, and what the boy lost +through the folly of his mother was redeemed by the wisdom of his +father. Truly are our mothers our best friends and worst enemies. Why, +when I was but a child my mother gave me money and bade me go prove--but +I digress. Well, thus my brother grew up not ignorant of the things a +man should know if he is to be a man and not a _babu_, but the woman, +his mother, wept sore whenever he was taken from her, and gave my father +trouble and annoyance as women ever do. And when, at last, she begged +that the boy might enter the service of the Sirkar as a wielder of the +pen in an office in Kot Ghazi, and strive to become a leading +_munshi_[9] and then a Deputy-Saheb, a _babu_ in very fact, my father +was wroth, and said the boy would be a warrior--yea, though he had to +die in his first skirmish and ere his beard were grown. Then the woman +wept and wearied my father until it seemed better to him that she should +die and, being at peace, bring peace. No quiet would he have at Mekran +Kot from my mother and his father, the Jam Saheb, while the woman lived, +nor would she herself allow him quiet at Kot Ghazi. And was she not +growing old and skinny moreover? And so he sent my brother to Mekran +Kot--and the woman died, without scandal. So my brother dwelt +thenceforward in Mekran Kot, knowing many things, for he had passed a +great _imtahan_[10] at Bombay and won a _sertifcut_[11] thereby, whereof +the Jam Saheb was very pleased, for the son of the Vizier had also gone +to a _madresseh_ and won a _sertifcut_, and it was time the pride of the +Vizier and his son were abated. + + [7] School. + [8] Mohammedan High School. + [9] Clerk. + [10] Examination. + [11] Certificate. + +"Now the son of the Vizier, Mahmud Shahbaz, was Ibrahim--and a mean +mangy pariah cur this Ibrahim Mahmud was, having been educated, and he +hated my brother bitterly by reason of the _sertifcut_ and on account of +a matter concerning a dancing-girl, one of those beautiful fat Mekranis, +and, by reason of his hatred and envy and jealousy, my mother made +common cause with him, she also desiring my brother's death, in that her +husband loved this child of another woman, an alien, his first love, +better than he loved hers. But _I_ bore him no ill-will, Huzoor. I loved +him and admired his deeds. + +"Many attempts they made, but though my mother was clever and Ibrahim +Mahmud and his father the Vizier were unscrupulous, my brother was in +the protection of the Prophet. Moreover he was much away from Mekran +Kot, being, like our father, a great traveller and soon irked by +whatever place he might be in. And, one time, he returned home, having +been to Germany on secret service (a thing he often did before he became +a Sahib) and to France and Africa on a little matter of rifles for +Afghanistan and the Border, and spoke to us of that very Somaliland to +which this very _pultan_, the 99th Baluch Light Infantry, went in 1908 +(was it?), and how the English were losing prestige there and would have +to send troops or receive _boondah_[12] and the blackened face from him +they called the Mad Mullah. And yet another time he returned from India +bringing a Somali boy, a black-faced youth, but a good Mussulman, whom, +some time before, he had known and saved from death in Africa, and now +had most strangely encountered again. And this Somali lad--who was not a +_hubshi_, a Woolly One, not a Sidi[13] slave--saved my brother's life in +his turn. I said he was not a slave--but in a sense he was, for he asked +nothing better than to sit in the shadow of my brother throughout his +life; for he loved my brother as the Huzoors' dogs love their masters, +yea--he would rather have had blows from my brother than gold from +another. He it was who saved Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan from the +terrible death prepared for him by Ibrahim Mahmud. It was during this +visit to Mekran Kot that Mahmud Shahbaz, the Vizier, announced +that he was about to send his learned son, the dog Ibrahim, to +Englistan to become English-made first-class Pleader--what they +called--'_Barishtar-at-Lar_' is it not, Sahib?" + + [12] An insulting and contemptuous gesture. + [13] A class of negroes, much employed as sailors and boatmen, and + called Seedeeboys. + +"That's it, Mir Saheb," replied I, sitting alert with chattering teeth +and shivering ague-stricken body. "Barrister-at Law.... Sit as close to +me as you can, for warmth.... Hark! Is that a signal?" as a long high +wavering note rose from the dry river-bed before us and wailed +lugubriously upon the night, rising and falling in mournful cadence. + +"'Twas a genuine jackal-cry, Huzoor. One can always tell the imitation +if jackals have sung one's lullaby from birth--though most Pathans can +deceive white ears in the matter.... Well, this made things no +pleasanter, for Ibrahim crowed like the dung-hill cock he was, and +boasted loudly. Also my mother urged him to do a deed ere he left Mekran +Kot for so long a sojourn in Belait.[14] And to her incitements and his +own inclination and desires was added that which made revenge and my +brother's death the chiefest things in all the world to Ibrahim Mahmud, +and it happened thus.... But do I weary the Sahib with my babble?" + + [14] Europe. + +"Nay--nay--far from it, Mir Saheb," replied I. "The sentry of talk +challenges the approaching skirmishers of sleep. The thong of narrative +drives off the dogs of tedium. Tell on." And in point of fact I was now +too credulous to be anything but astounded.... _John Robin +Ross-Ellison_! + +"Well, one day, my brother and I went forth to shoot sand-grouse, +tuloor,[15] chikor,[16] chinkara[17] and perchance ibex, leaving behind +this black body-servant Moussa Isa, the Somali boy, because he was +sick. And it was supposed that we should not return for a week at the +least. But on the third day we returned, my brother's eyes being +inflamed and sore and he fearing blindness if he remained out in the +desert glare. This is a common thing, as the Sahib knoweth, when dust +and sun combine against the eyes of those who have read over-many books +and written over-much with the steel pen upon white paper, and my +brother was somewhat prone to this trouble in the desert if he exhausted +himself with excessive _shikar_ and--other matters. And this angered him +greatly. Yet it was all ordained by Allah for the undoing of that +unclean dog Ibrahim Mahmud--for, returning and riding on his white camel +(a far-famed pacer of speed and endurance) under the great gateway of +the Jam's fort--high enough for a camel-rider to pass unstooping and +long enough for a _rêlwêy_-tunnel--he came upon Mahmud Ibrahim and his +friends and followers (for he had many such, who thought he might +succeed his father as Vizier) doing a thing that enraged my brother very +greatly. Swinging at the end of a cord tied to his hands, which were +bound behind his back, was the boy Moussa Isa the Somali, apparently +dead, for his eyes were closed and he gave no sign of pain as Ibrahim's +gang of pimps, panders, bullies and _budmashes_[18] kept him swinging to +and fro by blows of _lathis_[19] and by kicks, while Ibrahim and his +friends, at a short distance, strove to hit the moving body with stones. +I suppose the agony of hanging forward from the arms, and the blows of +staff and stone, had stunned the lad--who had offended Ibrahim, it +appeared, by preventing him from entering my brother's house--probably +to poison his water-_lotah_[20] and _gurrah_[21]--at the door of which +he, Moussa Isa, lay sick. My brother, Mir Jan, sprang from his camel +without waiting for the driver to make it kneel, and going up to +Ibrahim, he struck him with his closed, but empty, hand. Not with the +slap that stings and angers, he struck him, but with the thud that stuns +and injures, upon the mouth, removing certain of his teeth,--such being +his anger and his strength. Rising from the ground and plucking forth +his knife, Ibrahim sprang at my brother who, unarmed, straightway smote +him senseless, and that is talked of in Mekran Kot to this day. +Yea--senseless. Placing the thumb upon the knuckles of the clenched +fingers, he smote at the chin of Ibrahim, and laid him, as one dead, +upon the earth. Straight to the front from the shoulder and not +downwards nor swinging sideways he struck, and it was as though Ibrahim +had been shot. The Sahib being English will believe this, but many +Baluchis and Pathans do not. They cannot believe it, though to me +Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan of the 99th Baluch +Light Infantry of the Army of the King Emperor of India, they pretend +that they do, when I tell of that great deed.... Then my brother loosed +Moussa Isa with his own hand, saying that even as he had served Ibrahim +Mahmud so would he serve any man who injured a hair of the head of his +body-servant. And Moussa Isa clave to my brother yet the more, and when +a great Sidi slave entered the room of my brother by night, doubtless +hired by Ibrahim Mahmud to slay him, Moussa Isa, grappling with him, +tore out his throat with his teeth, though stabbed many times by the +Sidi, ere my brother could light torch or wick to tell friend from foe. +Whether he were thief or hired murderer, none could say--least of all +the Sidi when Moussa Isa, at my brother's bidding, loosed his teeth from +the man's throat. But all men held that it was the work of Ibrahim, for, +on recovering his senses that day of the blow, he had walked up to my +brother Mir Jan and said:-- + + [15] Bustard. + [16] A kind of partridge. + [17] Gazelle. + [18] Bad characters. + [19] Long staves. + [20] Brass cup or vase. + [21] Basin or pot. + +"'For that blow will I have a great revenge, O Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan +Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, descendant of Mirs and of +_mlecca_ dogs, this year or next year, or ten years hence, or when thou +art old, or upon thy first-born. By the sacred names of God, by the +Beard of the Prophet, by the hilt and blade of this my knife, and by the +life of my oldest son, I swear to have a vengeance on thee that shall +turn men pale as they whisper it. _And may Allah smite me blind_ if I do +not unto thee a thing of which children yet unborn shall speak with +awe.' + +"Thus spake Ibrahim, son of Mahmud, for though a dog, a mangy pariah +cur, he was still a Pathan. + +"But my brother laughed in his face and said but 'It would seem that I +too have tortured a slave' whereat Ibrahim repeated again 'Yea--_may +Allah smite me blind!_' + +"And something of this coming to the ears of our father, now heir to the +Jam of Mekran Kot, as his brothers were dead (in the big Border War they +died), he prayed the Jam Saheb to hasten the departure of the Vizier's +cub, and also told the Vizier that he would surely cut out his tongue +if aught befell Mir Jan. So the Vizier sent Ibrahim to Kot Ghazi on +business of investing moneys--wrung by knavery, doubtless, from litigant +suitors, candidates, criminals, and the poor of Mekran Kot. And shortly +after, the Jam Saheb heard of a new kind of gun that fires six of the +fat cartridges such as are used for the shooting of birds, without +reloading; and he bade Mir Jan who understood all things, and the ways +of the European gun-shop at Kot Ghazi, to hasten forthwith and procure +him a couple, and if none were in Kot Ghazi to send a _tar_[22] to +Bombay for them, or even, if necessary, to Englistan, though at a cost +of two rupees a word. With such a gun the Jam hoped to get better +_shikar_ when sitting on his camel and circling round the foolish +crouching grouse or _tuloor_, and firing at them as they sat. He thought +he might fire twice or thrice at them sitting, and again twice or thrice +at the remnant flying, and perchance hit some on the wing, after the +wonderful manner of the Sahibs. So he sent my brother, knowing him to be +both clever and honest and understanding the speech and ways of the +English most fully. + + [22] Telegram. + +"Now it is many days' journey, Sahib, across the desert and the +mountains, from Mekran Kot in Kubristan to Kot Ghazi in India, but at +Kot Ghazi is a fine bungalow, the property of the Jam Saheb, and there +all travellers from his house may sojourn and rest after their long and +perilous travel. + +"Taking me and Mir Abdul Haq and Mir Hussein Ali and many men and +servants, among whom was the body-servant, the boy Moussa Isa Somali, he +set forth, a little depressed that we heard not the cry of the +partridge in the fields of Mekran Kot as we started--not exactly a bad +omen, but lacking a good one. And sure enough, ere we won to Kot Ghazi, +his eyes became red and inflamed, very sore and painful to use. So, he +put the tail of his _puggri_[23] about his face and rode all day from +sun-rise to sun-set in darkness, his camel being driven by Abdulali +Gulamali Bokhari--the same who later rose to fame and honour as an +outlaw and was hanged at Peshawar after a brave and successful career. +And being arrived, in due course, at Kot Ghazi, before entering the +bungalow belonging to the Jam Saheb, he knelt his camel at the door of +the shop of a European _hakim_--in English a--er--" + + [23] Turban. + +"Chemist, Mir Saheb," I suggested. + +"Doubtless, since your honour says it--of a _kimmish_, and entering, to +the Eurasian dog therein said in English, of which he knew everything +(and taught me much, as your honour knows), 'Look you. I need lotion for +my eyes, eye medicine, and a bath for them' and the man mixed various +waters and poured them into a blue bottle with red labels, very +beautiful to see, and wrote upon it. Also he gave my brother a small cup +of glass, shaped like the mouth of the _pulla_ fish or the eye-socket of +a man. And my brother, knowing what to do, used the things then and +there, to the wonder of Abdul Haq and Hussein Ali, pouring the liquor +into the glass cup, and holding it to his eyes, and with back-thrown +head washing the eye and soothing it. + +"'Shahbas!'[24] quoth he. 'It is good,' and anon we proceeded to the +gun-shop and then to the bungalow belonging to the Jam Saheb. And lo +and behold, here we discovered the dog Ibrahim Mahmud, and my brother +twisted the knife of memory in the wound of insult by ordering him to +quit the room he occupied and seek another, since Mir Jan intended the +room for his body-servant, Moussa Isa Somali--the servant of a Mir being +more deserving of the room than the son of a Vizier! This was unwise, +but my brother's heart was too great to fear (or to fathom) the guile of +such a serpent as Ibrahim. + + [24] Bravo! Excellent! + +"And when he had bathed and prayed, eaten and drunk and rested, my +brother again anointed his eyes with the liquid--which though only like +water, was strong to soothe and heal. And our servants and people +watched him doing this with wonder and admiration, and the news of it +spread to the servants of Ibrahim Mahmud, who told their master of this +cleverness of Mir Jan,--and Ibrahim, after a while, sent a message and a +present to my brother, humbling himself, and asking that he too might +see this thing. + +"And Mir Jan, perhaps a little proud of his English ways, sat upon his +_charpai_,[25] and bathed his eyes in the little bath, until, wearying +of the trouble of pouring back the liquid into the bottle, he would +press the bottle itself to his eye and throw back his head. So his eyes +were quickly eased of pain, and in the evening we all went forth to +enjoy. + + [25] Native cot or bed. + +"On his return to the room, Mir Jan flung himself, weary, upon his +_charpai_ and Moussa Isa lay across the doorway. + +"In the morning my brother awoke and sitting on the _charpai_, took up +the blue bottle, drew the cork, and raised the bottle towards his eyes. +As he did this, Moussa Isa entered, and knowing not why he did so, +sprang at his master and dashed the bottle from his hand. It fell to the +ground but broke not, the floor being _dhurrie_[26]-covered. + + [26] Carpet. + +"In greatest amazement Mir Jan glanced from Moussa Isa to the bottle, +clenching his hand to strike the boy--when behold! the very floor +bubbled and smoked beneath the touch of the liquid as it ran from the +bottle. By the Beard of the Prophet, that stone floor bubbled and smoked +like water and the _dhurrie_ was burnt! Snatching up the bottle my +brother dropped drops from it upon the blade of his knife, upon the +leather of his boots, upon paint and brass and clothing--and behold it +was liquid fire, burning and corroding all that it touched! To me he +called, and, being shown these things, I could scarce believe--and then +I cried aloud 'Ibrahim Mahmud! Thine enemy!... Oh, my brother,--thine +eyes!' and I remembered the words of Ibrahim, '_a vengeance that shall +turn men pale as they whisper it--a thing of which children yet unborn +shall speak with awe_' and we rushed to his room,--to find it empty. He +and his best camel and its driver were gone, but all his people and +servants and _oont-wallahs_[27] were in the _serai_,[28] and said they +knew not where he was, but had received a _hookum_[29] over-night to set +out that day for Mekran Kot. And, catching up a pariah puppy, I +re-entered the house and dropped one drop from the blue bottle into its +eye. Sahib, even _I_ pitied the creature and slew it quickly with my +knife. And it was this that Ibrahim Mahmud had intended for the blue +eyes of my beautiful brother. This was the vengeance of which men should +speak in whispers. Those who saw and heard that puppy would speak of it +in whispers indeed--or not at all. I felt sick and my fingers itched to +madness for the throat of Ibrahim Mahmud. Had I seen him then, I would +have put out his eyes with my thumbs. Nay--I would have used the burning +liquid upon him as he had designed it should be used by my brother. + + [27] Camel-men. + [28] Halting-enclosure, rest-house. + [29] Order. + +"Hearing Mir Jan's voice, I hurried forth, and found that his white +pacing-camel was already saddled and that he sat in the front seat, +prepared to drive. 'Up, Daoud Khan' he cried to me 'we go +a-hunting'--and I sprang to the rear saddle even as the camel rose. +'Lead on, Moussa Isa, and track as thou hast never tracked before, if +thou wouldst live,' said he to the Somali, a noted _paggi_,[30] even +among the Baluch and Sindhi _paggis_ of the police at Peshawar and Kot +Ghazi. 'I can track the path of yesterday's bird through the air and of +yesterday's fish through the water,' answered the black boy; 'and I +would find this Ibrahim by smell though he had blinded _me_,' and he led +on. Down the Sudder Bazaar he went unfaltering, though hundreds of feet +of camels, horses, bullocks and of men were treading its dust. As we +passed the shop of the European _hakim_, yes, the _kimmish_, my brother +leapt down and entering the shop asked questions. Returning and mounting +he said to me: ''Tis as I thought. Hither he came last night, and, +saying he was science-knowing failed B.Sc., demanded certain acids, +that, being mixed, will eat up even gold--which no other acid can +digest, nor even assail....'" + + [30] Tracker. + +"_Aqua Regia_, or vitriol, I believe," I murmured, still marvelling ... +_Ross-Ellison!_ + +"Doubtless, if your honour is pleased to say so. 'He must have poured +these acids into the bottle while we were abroad last night,' continued +my brother. 'Oh, the dog! The treacherous dreadful dog!... 'Twas in a +good hour that I saved Moussa Isa,' and indeed I too blessed that +Somali, so mysteriously moved by Allah to dash the bottle from my +brother's hand. + +"'Think you that Ibrahim Mahmud bribed Moussa and that he repented as he +saw you about to anoint your eyes with the acid?' I asked of my brother. + +"'Nay--Moussa was with me until I returned,' replied he, 'and returning, +I put the bottle beneath my pillow. Besides, Ibrahim had fled ere we +returned to the bungalow. Moreover, Moussa would lose his tongue ere he +would tell me a lie, his eyes ere he would see me suffer, his hand ere +he would take a bribe against me. No--Allah moved his heart--rewarding +me for saving his life at the risk of mine own, when he lay beneath a +lion,--or else it is that the black dog hath the instincts of a dog and +knows when evil threatens what it loves.' And indeed it is a wonderful +thing and true; and Moussa Isa never knew how he knew, but said his arm +moved of itself and that he wondered at himself as he struck the bottle +from his master's hand. And, in time, we left the city and followed the +road and found that Ibrahim was fleeing to Mekran Kot, doubtless to be +far away when the thing happened, and also to get counsel and money from +his father and my mother, should suspicion fall on him and flight be +necessary. And anon even untrained eyes could see where he had left the +Caravan Road and taken the shorter route whereby camels bearing no heavy +load could come by steeper passes and dangerous tracks in shorter time +to Mekran Kot, provided the rider bore water sufficient--for there was +no oasis nor well. 'Enough, Moussa Isa, thou mayest return, I can track +the camel of Ibrahim now that he hath left the road,' quoth my brother, +breaking a long silence; but Moussa Isa, panting as he ran before, +replied: 'I come, Mir Saheb. I shall not fall until mine eyes have +beheld thy vengeance--in which perchance, _I_ may take a part. He called +me "_Hubshi_".' + +"'He hath many hours' start, Moussa,' said my brother, 'and his camel is +a good one. He will not halt and sleep for many hours even though he +suppose me dead!' + +"'I can run for a day; for a day and a night I can run,' replied the +Somali, 'and I can run until the hour of thy vengeance cometh. He called +_me_ "Hubshi"' ... and he ran on. + +"Sahib, for the whole of that day he ran beside the fast camel, my +brother drawing rein for no single minute, and when, at dawn, I awoke +from broken slumber in the saddle, Moussa Isa was running yet! And then +we heard the cry of the partridge and knew that our luck was good. + +"'He may have left the track,' quoth my brother soon after dawn, 'but I +think he is making for Mekran Kot, to get money and documents and to +escape again ere news of his deed--or the suspicion of him--reaches the +Jam Saheb. We may have missed him, but I could not halt and wait for +daylight. He cannot be far ahead of us now. This camel shall live on +milk and meal and wheaten bread, finest _bhoosa_[31] and chosen young +green shoots, and buds, and leaves--and he shall have a collar of gold +with golden bells, and reins of silk, and hanging silken tassels, and he +shall----" and then Moussa Isa gave a hoarse scream and pointed to the +sky-line above which rose a wisp of smoke. + + [31] Bran. + +"'It is he,' said my brother, and within the hour we beheld the little +bush-tent of Ibrahim Mahmud (made with cloths thrown over a bent bush) +and his camel, near to which, his _oont-wallah_ Suleiman Abdulla had +kindled a fire and prepared food. (Later this liar swore that he made +the fire smoke with green twigs to guide the pursuit,--a foolish lie, +for he knew not what Ibrahim had done, nor anything but that his master +hastened.) + +"Moussa Isa staggered to where Ibrahim Mahmud lay asleep, looked upon +his face, and fell, seeming to be about to die. + +"Making a little _chukker_[32] round, my brother drove the camel between +Suleiman and the tent and made it kneel. + + [32] Circuit, course. + +"'_Salaam aleikoum_,[33] Mir Saheb,' said Suleiman, and my brother +replied:-- + + [33] A Mussulman greeting. + +"'Salaam. Tend thou my camel and prepare food for me, and my brother, +and my servant. And if thou wouldst not hang in a pig's skin, be wise +and wary, and keep eyes, ears, and mouth closed.' And we drank water. + +"Then, treading softly, we went to the tent where Ibrahim Mahmud slept +and sat us down where we could look upon his face. There he slept, +Sahib, peacefully, like a little child!--having left Mir Jan to die the +death 'whereof men should speak with awe,' as he had threatened. + +"We sat beside him and watched. Saying nothing, we sat and watched. An +hour passed and an hour again. For another hour without moving or +speaking we sat and Moussa Isa joined us and watched. + +"'Twas sweet, and I licked my lips and hoped he might not wake for +hours, although I hungered. The actual revenge is very, very sweet, +Sahib, but does it exceed the joy of watching the enemy as he lies +wholly at your mercy, lies in the hollow of your hand and is your poor +foolish plaything,--knave made fool at last? Like statues we sat, moving +not our eyes from his face, and we were very happy. + +"Then, suddenly, he awoke and his eyes fell on my brother--and he +shrieked aloud, as the hare shrieks when hound or jackal seize her; as +the woman shrieks when the door goes down before the raiders and the +thatch goes up in flame. + +"Thus he shrieked. + +"We moved not. + +"'Why cryest thou, dear brother?' asked Mir Jan in a soft, sweet voice. + +"'I--I--thought thou wast a spirit, come to--' he faltered, and my +brother answered:-- + +"'And why should _I_ be a spirit, my brother? Am I not young and +strong?' + +"'I dreamed,' quavered Ibrahim. + +"'I too have had a dream,' said my brother. + +"''Twas but a dream, Mir Jan. I will arise and prepare some--' replied +Ibrahim, affecting ease of manner but poorly, for he had no real nerve. + +"'Thou wilt not arise yet, Ibrahim Mahmud,' murmured my brother gently. + +"'Why?' + +"'Because thine eyes are somewhat wearied and I purpose to wash them +with my magic water,' and as he held up the blue bottle with the red +label Ibrahim screamed like a girl and flung himself forward at my +brother's feet, shrieking and praying for mercy:-- + +"'_No, No!_' he howled; 'not _that!_ Mercy, O kingly son of Kings! I +will give thee--" + +"'Nay, my brother,--what is this?' asked Mir Jan softly, with kind +caressing voice. 'What is all this? I do but propose to bathe thine eyes +with this same magic water wherewith I bathed mine own, the day before +yesterday. Thou didst see me do it--thou didst watch me do it.' + +"'Mercy--most noble Mir! Have pity, 'twas not I. Mercy!' he screamed. + +"'But, Ibrahim, dear brother' expostulated Mir Jan, 'why this objection +to my magic water? It gave me great relief and my eyes were quickly +healed. Thine own need care--for see--water gushes from them even now.' + +"The dog howled--like a dog--and offered lakhs of rupees. + +"'But surely, my brother, what gave me relief will give thee relief? +Thou knowest how my eyes were soothed and healed, and that it is a +potent charm, and surely _it is not changed_?' Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras +el-Isan was all Pathan then, Sahib, whatever he may have been at other +times. I could not have played more skilfully with the dog myself. + +"At last, turning to Moussa Isa he said:-- + +"'Our brother seemeth distraught, and perchance will do himself some +injury if he be not tended with care and watched over. Bind him, to make +sure that he hurt not himself in this strange madness that hath +o'ertaken him, making him fancy harm even in this healing balm. Bind him +tightly.' And at that, the treacherous, murderous dog found his manhood +for a moment and made to spring to his feet and fight, but as he tried +to rise, Moussa Isa kicked him in the face and fell upon him. + +"'Shall I serve thee as I served thy _Hubshi_ hireling, thy Sidi slave?' +he grunted and showed his sharp strong teeth. + +"'Perchance 'twould cure him of his madness if we bled the poor soul a +little,' cooed my brother, putting his hand to his cummerbund where was +his long Afghan knife, and Ibrahim Mahmud lay still. Picking up his big, +green turban from beside his rug, I bound his arms to his sides and +then, going forth, got baggage-cords from the _oont-wallah_ and likewise +his _puggri_, and Moussa Isa bound his feet and hands and knees. + +"Then my brother called Suleiman Abdulla the _oont-wallah_, and bade +Moussa Isa sleep--which he did with his knife in his hand, having bound +his foot to that of Ibrahim. + +"'Look, thou dog,' said Mir Jan to Suleiman, 'should this rat-flea +escape, thy soul and thy body shall pay, for I will put out thine eyes +with glowing charcoal and hang thee in the skin of a pig, if I have to +follow thee to Cabul to do it--yea, to Balkh or Bokhara. See to it.' And +Suleiman put his head upon my brother's feet, poured dust upon it and +said 'So be it, Mir Saheb. Do this and more if he escape,' and we slept +awhile. + +"Anon we awoke, ate, drank and smoked, my brother smoking the cheroots +of the Sahib-log and I having to be content with the _bidis_ of Suleiman +as there was no hookah. + +"And when we had rested we went and sat before the face of Ibrahim and +gazed upon him long, without words. + +"And he wept. Like a woman he wept, and said 'Slay me, Mir Saheb, and +have done. Slay me with thy knife.' + +"But my brother replied softly and sweetly:-- + +"'What wild words are these, Ibrahim? Why should I slay thee? Some +matter of a quarrel there was concerning thy torturing of my +servant--but I am not of them that bear grudges and nurse hatred. In no +anger slay thee with my knife? Why should I injure thee? I do most +solemnly swear, Ibrahim, that I will do thee no wilful hurt. I will but +anoint thine eyes with the contents of this bottle just as I did anoint +my own. Why should I slay thee or do thee hurt?' + +"And I chuckled aloud. He was all Pathan then, Sahib, and handling his +enemy right subtly. + +"And Ibrahim wept yet more loudly and said again:-- + +"'Slay me and have done.' Then my brother gave him the name by which he +was known ever after, saying:-- + +"'Why should I slay thee, _Ibrahim, the Weeper_?' and he produced the +bottle and held it above that villain's face. + +"His screams were music to me, and in the joy of his black heart Moussa +Isa burst into some strange chant in his own Somali tongue. + +"'Nay, our friends must hear thy eloquence and songs, Ibrahim,' said my +brother, after he had held the bottle tilted above the face of the +Weeper for some minutes. ''Twere greedy to keep this to ourselves.' + +"Again and again that day my brother would say: 'Nay--I cannot wait +longer. Poor Ibrahim's weeping eyes must be relieved at once,' and he +would produce the bottle, uncork it, and hold it over Ibrahim's face as +he writhed and screamed and twisted in his bonds. + +"'What ails thee, Ibrahim the Weeper?' he would coo. 'Thou knowest it is +a soothing lotion. Didst thou not see me use it on mine own eyes?' Yea, +he was true Pathan then, and I loved him the more. + +"A hundred times that day he did thus and enjoyed the music of Ibrahim's +screams, and by night the dog was a little mad. So, lest we defeat +ourselves and lose something of the sport our souls loved, we left him +in peace that night, if 'peace' it is to know that the dreadful death +you have prepared for another now overhangs you. Moussa Isa kept watch +through the night. And in the morning came Abdul Haq and Hussein Ali +and the servants and _oont-wallahs_, save a few who had been sent with +laden camels by the Caravan Road. And, when all had eaten and rested, my +brother held _durbar_,[34] having placed Ibrahim Mahmud in the midst, +bound, and looking like one who has long lain upon a bed of sickness. + + [34] Meeting. + +"This _durbar_ proceeded with the greatest solemnity and no man smiled +when my brother said: 'And now, touching the matter of my beloved and +respected Ibrahim Mahmud, son of our grandfather's Vizier,--the learned +Ibrahim, who shortly goeth (perhaps) across the black water to Englistan +to become a great and famous pleader,--can any suggest the cause of the +strange and distressing madness that hath come upon him so suddenly? +For, behold, I have to keep him bound lest he do himself an injury, and +constantly he crieth, "Kill me, Mir Saheb, kill me with thy knife and +make an end." And when I go to bathe his poor eyes, so sore and red with +weeping, behold he shrieketh like the _rêlwêy terain_ at Peshawar and +weepeth like a woman.' + +"And Abdul Haq spoke and said: 'Is it so indeed, Mir Saheb?' And my +brother said: 'It is so;' and Hussein Ali said: 'Is it so indeed, Mir +Saheb?' And my brother said 'It is so;' and all men said the same thing +gravely and my brother made the same answer. + +"Sahib, I shall never forget the joy of that _durbar_ with Ibrahim the +Weeper there, like a trapped rat, in the midst, looking from face to +face for mercy. + +"'Yea--it is so. It is indeed so,' again said my brother when all had +asked. 'You shall see--and hear. Behold I will drop but one drop of my +soothing lotion into each of his eyes!' ... and he turned to Ibrahim the +Weeper, with the uncorked bottle in his hand--the bottle from which came +forth smoke, though it was cold. But Ibrahim rolled screaming, and +strove to thrust his face into the ground. 'It is strange indeed,' mused +Abdul Haq, stroking his beard, while none smiled. 'Strange, in every +truth. But thou hast not dropped the drops, Mir Saheb. Perchance he will +arise and thank thee and be cured of this madness when he feels the +healing anointment that so benefited thine own eyes. Oh, the cleverness +of these European _hakims_,' and he raised hands and eyes in wonder as +he sighed piously. + +"'Yea--perchance he will,' agreed my brother and bade Moussa Isa hold +him by the ears with his face to the sky while the _oont-wallahs_ kept +him on his back. And Ibrahim's body heaved up those four strong men as +it bent like a bow and bucked like a horse, while my brother removed the +cork once again. + +"His shrieks delighted my soul. + +"''Tis a marvellous mystery to me,' sighed my brother. 'He knows how +innocent and healing are these waters and yet he refuses them. He saw me +use them on my own eyes--and surely the medicine is unchanged?' And he +balanced the bottle sideways above the face of his enemy and allowed the +devilish acid to well up and impend upon the very edge of the neck of +the bottle, as he murmured: 'But a single drop for each eye! More I +cannot spare--to-day. Perchance a drop for each ear to-morrow, and one +for his tongue on the next day--if his madness spare him to us for so +long.' + +"Then, as Ibrahim, foaming, shrieked curses and cried aloud to Allah +and Mohammed his Prophet, he said: 'Nay, this is ingratitude. He shall +not have them to-day at all, but shall endure without them till sunrise +to-morrow. Take him yonder, and lay him on that flat rock, bareheaded in +the sun, that his tears may be dried for him.' ... + +"Yea! I found no fault with my brother then, Sahib. + +"He was a master in his revenge. And the _durbar_ murmured its applause, +and praised and thanked my brother. Not one of them but had suffered at +the hands of Mahmud Shahbaz, his father, the Vizier, or at the insolent +hands of this his own son.... Then Mir Jan called to Moussa Isa, his +body-servant, and said unto him:-- + +"'Hear, Moussa Isa, and make no tiny error if thou wouldst see +to-morrow's sun and go to Paradise anon. Feed that carrion well and +pretend to be filled with the pity that is the child of avarice. Ask +what he will give thee to help him to escape. Affect to haggle long, and +speak much of the difficulties and dangers of the deed. At length agree +to put him on my fast camel this night at moon-rise, if thou art left as +his guard and we are wrapt in slumber. Play thy part well, and show thy +remorse at cheating thy master--even for a lakh[35] of rupees--yea, and +show fear of what will happen to thee, and pretend distrust of him. At +length succumb again, and as the moon just shows above the mountains +untie his bonds and do thus and thus--' and he whispered instructions +while a light shone in the eyes of Moussa Isa, the Somali, and a smile +played about his mouth. + + [35] One hundred thousand. + +"And Mir Jan told the matter that night to all and gave instructions. + +"Moussa Isa meanwhile did everything as he was bid and, while we ate, he +carried his own food to the Weeper, as though secretly. + +"Long and merrily we feasted, pretending to drink to excess of the +forbidden _sharab_, singing and behaving like toddy-laden coolies, and +in time we staggered to our carpets, put on our _poshteens_,[36] pulled +rugs over our heads and slept--not. + + [36] Warm sheep-skin coats. + +"From under his rug my brother kept watch. Shortly after, Moussa Isa +arose from beside Ibrahim the Weeper and crawled like a snake to where +the camels knelt in a ring, and there he saddled the swift white camel +of Mir Jan, and I heard its bubbling snarl as he made it rise, and led +it over near to where Ibrahim lay. There he made it kneel again, and, +throwing the nose-rope over its head, he laid the loop thereof, with his +stick, on the front seat of the saddle. This done, he crept back to +Ibrahim Mahmud and feigned sleep awhile. Anon, none stirring, he began +to untie with his teeth and knife-point the cords that bound the +captive, and when, at length, the man was free, Moussa chafed his +stiffened arms and legs, his hands and feet. + +"When, after a time, Ibrahim tried to rise, he fell again and +again, and the moon not yet having risen above the mountains, the +avaricious-seeming Moussa again massaged and chafed the limbs of the +villain Ibrahim, who earnestly prayed Moussa Isa to lay him on the +saddle as he was--and depart ere some sleeper awoke. But Moussa said +'twould be vain to start until Ibrahim could sit in the saddle and hold +on, and he continued to rub his arms and legs. + +"But when the edge of the moon shone above the mountain, Moussa placed +the arm of Ibrahim around his neck, put his arm round Ibrahim's body, +and staggered with him to where the racing-camel knelt. After a few +steps the strength of Ibrahim seemed to return, and, by the time they +reached the camel, he could totter on his feet and stand without help. +With some difficulty Moussa hoisted him into the rear saddle. Having +done so, he thrust the stirrups upon his feet and commenced to unwind +his puggri. + +"'Mount, mount!' whispered Ibrahim. + +"'Nay, I must tie thee on,' replied Moussa Isa and, knotting one end of +the _puggri_ to the back of the saddle, he passed it twice round Ibrahim +and tied the other end near the first. This done, and Ibrahim being in a +frantic fever of haste and fear and hope, Moussa Isa commenced to +bargain, Ibrahim agreeing to every demand and promising even more. + +"'Anything! anything!' he shrieked beneath his breath. 'Bargain as we +go. You cannot ask too much. I and my father will strip ourselves for +thee.' ... And having tortured him awhile, Moussa sprang into the saddle +and brought the camel to its feet--as my brother's voice said, softly +and sweetly:-- + +"'Wouldst thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my friend?' and my own chimed in:-- + +"'Could'st thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my brother's friend?' and the voice +of Abdul Haq followed with:-- + +"'Shouldst thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my cousin's friend?' and Hussein +Ali's voice added:-- + +"'Do not leave us, O Ibrahim, my friend's friend.' Like the wolf-pack, +every other voice in the camp in turn implored:-- + +"'Never leave us, O Ibrahim, our master's friend.' + +"'Go! go!' shrieked Ibrahim, kicking with his heels at the camel's sides +and striking at Moussa Isa, as that obedient youth, raising his stick, +caused the camel to bound forward, and drove it, swiftly trotting--to +where my brother lay, and there made it kneel again.... + +"Dost thou sleep, Huzoor?" + +"Nay, Mir Saheb," I replied, "nor would I till your tale be done and I +have seen the return of another reconnoitring-patrol. We might then take +turns.... Nay, I will not sleep at all. 'Tis too near dawn--when things +are wont to happen in time of war." + +Little did the worthy Subedar-Major guess how, or why, his tale +enthralled me. + +"I have nearly done, Sahib.... On the morrow my brother said: 'To-day I +will make an end. After the evening prayer let all assemble and behold +the anointing of the eyes of Ibrahim the Weeper with the same balm that +he intended to be applied to mine.' And during the day men drove strong +stakes deep into the ground, the distance between them being equal to +the width of Ibrahim's head, which they measured--telling him why. Also +pegs were driven into the ground convenient for the fastening of his +hands and feet, and stones were collected as large as men could carry. + +"And, after evening prayer and prostration we took Ibrahim, and forcing +his head between the stakes so that he could not turn it, we tied his +hands and feet to the pegs and weighted his body with the stones, being +careful to do him no injury and to cause no such pain as might detract +from the real torture, and lessen his punishment. + +"And then Mir Jan stood over him with the bottle and said, softly and +sweetly:-- + +"'Ibrahim, my friend, thou didst vow upon me a vengeance, the telling of +which should turn men pale, because I struck thee for torturing my +servant. And now I return good for thine evil, for I take pity on thy +weeping eyes and heal them. These several days thou hast refused this +benefaction with floods of tears, and sobs and screams. Now, behold, and +see how foolish thou hast been,' and he spilt a drop from the bottle, so +that it fell near the face of Ibrahim, but not on it. + +"And I was amazed to see that the stone upon which the drop fell did not +bubble and boil. This prolongation and refinement of the torture I could +appreciate and enjoy--but why did not the acid affect the stone? 'Twas +as though mere cold water had fallen upon it. Nor was the bottle smoking +as always hitherto. + +"And even as I wondered, my brother quickly stooped and dashed some of +the contents of the bottle in the eyes of Ibrahim the Weeper. + +"With a shriek that pierced our ear-drums and must have been heard for +many kos,[37] Ibrahim writhed and jerked so that the stones were thrown +from his body and the pegs that held his feet and hands were torn from +the ground. The stakes holding his head firmly, he flung his body over +until his head was beneath it and then back again, and screamed like a +wounded horse. At last he wrenched his head free, and, holding his hands +to his face--which appeared to be in no way injured--leapt up and ran +round and round in circles, until he was seized, and, by my brother's +orders, his hands were torn from his face. + + [37] Kos = two miles. + +"And behold, his eyes and face were unmarked and uninjured, and the +liquid that dripped upon his clothing made no mark and did no hurt. + +"'_Blind_,' he shrieked,' I am _blind!_ O Merciful Allah, my eyes!' and +he fell, howling. + +"'Now that is very strange,' said my brother, 'for I threw pure, plain, +cold water in his face. See me drink of the remainder!' and he drank +from the bottle, and so did I, in fear and wonder. Cold, pure, fair +water it was, and nothing else! + +"But Ibrahim the Weeper was blind. Stone blind to his dying day and +never looked upon the sun again. Little drops of water had struck him +blind. Nay, the Hand of Allah had struck him blind--him who had cried: +'_May Allah strike me blind_ if I do not unto thee a thing of which +children yet unborn shall speak with awe". He had tried to do such a +thing and God had struck him blind--though my brother, who was very +learned, spoke of self-suggestion, and of imagination being sometimes +strong enough to make the imagined come to pass. (He told of a man who +died for no reason, on a certain day at a certain hour, because his +father had done so and he believed that _he_ would also. But more likely +it was witchcraft and he was under a curse.) + +"Howbeit, little drops of pure water blinded Ibrahim the Weeper. And +there the foreign blood of my poor brother showed forth. He could not +escape the taint and was weak. At the last moment he had wavered and, +like a fool, had forgiven his enemy." + +"Was he a Christian?" I asked (and had often wondered in the past). + +"_Nahin_, Sahib! He was a Mussulman, my father having had him taught +with special care by a holy _moulvie_,[38] by reason of the fact that +his mother had had him sprinkled with holy water by her priests and had +taught him the tenets of the Christian faith--doubtless a high and noble +one since your honour is of it." + + [38] Priest. + +"He had been taught the Christian doctrines, then?" + +"Without doubt, Sahib. Throughout his childhood; in the absence of his +father. And doubtless this aided his foreign blood in making him act +thus foolishly." + +"Doubtless," I agreed, with a smile. + +"Yea, at the last moment he had put his vengeance from him and behaved +like a weak fool, throwing away the acid, cleaning the bottle and +filling it with pure water. He had intended to give Ibrahim a fright +(and also the opprobrious title of _the Weeper_), to teach him a lesson +and to let him go--provided he swore on the Q'ran never to return to +Mekran Kot when he left for England.... Such a man was my poor brother. +But the hand of Allah intervened and Ibrahim the Weeper lived and died +stone blind.... A strange man that poor brother of mine, strong save +when his foreign blood and foreign religion arose like poison within him +and made him weak.... There was the case of the English Sergeant +Larnce-Ishmeet whom he spared and sent into the English lines in the +little Border War." + +"Lance-Sergeant Smith? What regiment?" I asked. + +"I know not, Sahib, save that it was a British Infantry Regiment. (He +was not Lance-Sergeant Ishmeet but Sergeant Larnce-Ishmeet.) We ... I +mean ... they ... slew many of a Company that was doing rear-guard and +their officers being slain and many men also, a Sergeant took them off +with great skill. Section by section, from point to point he retired +them, and our ... their ... triumphant joy at the capture and slaughter +of the Company was changed to gnashing of teeth--for we lost many and +the Company retired safely on the main body. But we got the Sergeant, +badly wounded, and my brother would not have him slain. Rather he showed +him much honour and had him borne to Mekran Kot, and when he was healed +he took him to within sight of the outermost Khyber fort and set him +free.... Yet was he not an enemy, Sahib, taken in war? Strange +weaknesses had my poor brother...." + +"I knew a Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith," I remarked, as light dawned on +me after pondering "Larnce-Ishmeet." "He shot himself at Duri some time +ago." + +"He was a brave man," said Mir Daoud Khan. "Peace be upon him." + +"And what became of your brother?" I asked, although I knew only too +well--alas! + +"He left Mekran Kot when I did, Sahib, for our father died, the old Jam +Saheb was poisoned, and we had to flee or die. I never saw him again for +he made much money (out of rifles), travelled widely, and became a +Sahib (and I followed the _pultan_[39]). But he died as a Pathan +should--for his honour. In Gungapur jail they hanged him (after the +failure of the foolish attempt by some seditious Sikhs and Punjabis and +Bengalis at a second Great Killing) and I do not care to speak of that +thing even to--" + + [39] Infantry Regiment. + +A sputter of musketry broke out in the thick vegetation of the +river-bed, crackled and spread, as Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan (once +against the civilized, brave and distinguished officer) and I sprang to +our feet and hurried to our posts--I, even at that moment, thinking how +small a World is this, and how long is the long arm of Coincidence. Here +was I, while waiting for what then seemed almost certain death, hearing +from the lips of his own brother, the early history of the remarkable, +secretive and mysterious man whom I had loved above all men, and whose +death had been the tragedy of my life. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BOY. + +(Mainly concerning the early life of Moussa Isa Somali.) + + +Moussa Isa Somali never stole, lied, seduced, cheated, drank, swore, +gambled, betrayed, slandered, blasphemed, nor behaved meanly nor +cowardly--but, alas! he had personal and racial Pride. + +It is written that Pride is the sin of Devils and that by it, Lucifer, +Son of the Morning, fell. + +If it be remembered that he fell for nine days, be realized that he must +have fallen with an acceleration of velocity of thirty-two feet per +second, each second, and be conceded that he weighed a good average +number of pounds, some idea will be formed of the violence of the +concussion with which he came to earth. + +In spite of the terrible warning provided by so great a smash there yet +remain people who will argue that it is better to fall through Pride +than to remain unfallen through lack of it. By Pride, _Pride_ is meant +of course--not Conceit, Snobbishness and Bumptiousness, which are all +very damnable, and signs of a weak, base mind. One gathers that Lucifer, +Son of the Morning, was not conceited, snobbish, nor bumptious. Nor was +Moussa, son of Isa, Somali--but, like Lucifer, Son of the Morning, +Devil, he fell, through Pride, and came to a Bad End. + +One has known people who have owned to a sneaking liking and unwilling +admiration for Lucifer, Son of the Morning--people of the same sort as +those who find it difficult wholly to revere the prideless Erect when +comparing them with the prideful Fallen--and, for the life of me, I +cannot help a sneaking liking and unwilling admiration for Moussa Isa +Somali, who fell through Pride. + +There was something fine about him, even as there was about Lucifer, Son +of the Morning, and one cannot avoid feeling that if both did not get +more of hard luck and less of justice than some virtuous people one +knows, they certainly cut a better figure. Of course it is a mistake to +adopt any line of action that leads definitely to the position of +Under-Dog, and to fight when you cannot win. It is not Prudent, and +Prudence leads to Favour, Success, Decorations, and the Respect of +Others if not of yourself. It is also to be remembered that whether you +are a Wicked Rebel or a Noble True-Hearted Patriot depends very largely +on whether you succeed or fail. + +All of which is mere specious and idle special pleading on behalf of +Moussa Isa, a sinful murderous Somali.... + +Most of the memories of Moussa Isa centred round scars. When I say +"memories of Moussa Isa" I mean Moussa Isa's own memories, for there are +no memories concerning him. The might, majesty, dominion and power of +the British Empire were arrayed against him, and the Empire's duly +appointed agents hanged him by the neck until he was dead--at an age +when some people are yet at school, albeit he had gathered in his few +years of life a quantity and quality of experience quite remarkable. + +'Twas a sordid business, and yet Moussa Isa died, like many very +respectable and highly belauded folk, from the early Christians in Italy +to the late Christians in Armenia, for a principle and an idea. + +He was black, he was filthy, he was savage, ignorant and ugly--but he +had his Pride, both personal and racial, for he was a Somali. A Somali, +mark you, not a mere _Hubshi_ or Woolly One, not a common Nigger, not a +low and despicable person--worshipping idols, eating human flesh, grubs, +roots and bark--the "black ivory" of Arabs. + +If you called Moussa Isa a Hubshi, he either killed you or marked you +down for death, according to circumstances. + +Had Moussa Isa lived a few centuries earlier, been of another colour, +and swanked around in painful iron garments and assorted cutlery, he +would have been highly praised for his fine and proper spirit. Poet, +bard, and troubadour would have noted and published his quickness on the +point of honour. Moussa would have been set to music and have become a +source of income to the gifted. He would have become a Pillar of the +Order of Knighthood and an Ornament of the Age of Chivalry. A wreath of +laurels would have encircled his brow--instead of a rope of hemp +encircling his neck. + +For such fine, quick, self-respecting Pride, such resentment of insult, +men have become Splendid Figures of the Glorious Past. + +_Autres jours autres moeurs_. + +How many people called him _Hubshi_, we know not; but we know, from his +own lips, of the killing of some few. Of the killing of others he had +forgotten, for his memory was poor, save for insult and kindness. And, +having caught and convicted him in one or two cases the appointed +servants of the British Empire first "reformed" and then slew him in +their turn--thus descending to his level without his excuse of private +personal insult and injury.... + +The scars on Moussa Isa's face with the hole in his ear were connected +with one of his very earliest memories--or one of his very earliest +memories was connected with the scars on his face and the hole in his +ear--a memory of jolting along on a camel, swinging upside-down, while a +strong hand grasped his foot; of seeing his father rush at his captor +with a long, broad-bladed spear, of being whirled and flung at his +father's head; and of seeing his father's intimate internal economy +seriously and permanently disarranged by the two-handed sword of one of +the camel rider's colleagues (who flung aside a heavy gun which he had +just emptied into Moussa's mamma) as his father fell to the ground under +the impact and weight of the novel missile. Though Moussa was unaware, +in his abysmal ignorance, of the interesting fact, the great two-handed +sword so effectually wielded by the supporter of his captor, was exactly +like that of a Crusader of old. It was like that of a Crusader of old, +because it was a direct lineal descendant of the swords of the Crusaders +who had brought the first specimens to the country, quite a good many +years previously. Indeed some people said that a few of the swords +owned by these Dervishes were real, original, Crusaders' swords, the +very weapons whose hilts were once grasped by Norman hands, and whose +blades had cloven Paynim heads in the name of Christianity and the +interests of the Sepulchre. I do not know--but it is a wonderfully dry +climate, and swords are there kept, cherished, and bequeathed, even more +religiously than were the Stately Homes of England in that once +prosperous land, in the days before park, covert, pleasaunce, forest, +glade, dell, and garden became allotments, and the spoil of the +"Working"-man. + +Picked up after the raid and pursuit with a faceful of gravel, sand, +dirt, and tetanus-germs, Moussa Isa, orphan, was flung on a pile of dead +Somali spearmen and swordsmen, of horses, asses, camels, negroes, (old) +women and other cattle--and, crawling off again, received kicks and +orders to clean and polish certain much ensanguined weapons sullied with +the blood of his near and distant relatives. Thereafter he was +recognized by the above-mentioned swordsman, and accorded the privilege +of removing his own father's blood from the great two-handed sword +before alluded to--a task of a kind that does not fall to many little +boys. So willingly and cheerfully did Moussa perform his arduous duty +(arduous because the blood had had time to dry, and dried blood takes a +lot of removing from steel by one unprovided with hot water) that the +Arab swordsman instead of blowing off the child's head with his long and +beautiful gun, damascened of barrel, gold-mounted of lock, and +pearl-inlaid of stock, allowed him to rim for his life that he might die +a sporting death in hot blood, doing his devilmost. (These were not +slavers but avengers of enmity to the Mad Mullah and punishers of +friendship to the English.) + +"How much law will you give me, O Emir?" asked the child. + +"Perhaps ten yards, dog, perhaps a hundred, perhaps more.... Run!" + +"_You_ could hit me at a thousand yards, O Emir," was the reply. "Let me +die by a shot that men will talk about...." + +"Run, yelping dog," growled the Arab with a sardonic smile. + +And Moussa ran. He also bounded, shied, dodged, ducked, swerved, +dropped, crawled, zig-zagged and generally gave his best attention to +evading the shot of the common fighting-man whom he had propitiatorily +addressed as "_Emir_," though a mere wearer of a single fillet of +camel-hair cord around his _haik_. Like a naval gunner--the Arab laid +his gun and waited till the sights "came on," fired, and had the +satisfaction of seeing the child fling up his arms, leap into the air +and fall twitching to the ground. Good shot! The twitches and the last +convulsive spasm were highly artistic and creditable to the histrionic +powers of Moussa Isa, shot through the ear, and inwardly congratulating +himself that he had yet a chance. But then he had had wide opportunity +for observation, and plenty of good models, in the matter of +sudden-death spasms and twitches, so the credit is the less. Anyhow, it +deceived experienced Arab eyes at a hundred yards, and the performance +may therefore be classed as good. To the reflective person it will be +manifest that Moussa's reverence for the sanctity of human life +received but little encouragement or development from the very +beginning.... + +Returning refugees, a few days later, found Moussa very pleased-with +himself and very displeased with uncooked putrid flesh. Being +exceedingly poor and depressed as a result of the Mad Mullah's vengeful +_razzia_, they sold Moussa Isa, friendless, kinless orphan, and once +again cursed the false English who made them great promises in the +Mahdi's troublous day, and abandoned them to the Mad Mullah and his +Dervishes as soon as the Mahdi was happily dead. + +The Mad Mullah they could understand; the English they could not. For +the Mad Mullah they had no blame whatsoever; for the English they had +the bitterest blame, the deepest hatred and the uttermost contempt. Who +blames the lion for seeking and slaying his prey? Who defends the +unspeakable creature that throws its friends and children to the +lion--in payment of its debts and in cancellation of its obligations to +those friends and children? In discussing the raid on their way to +market with Moussa Isa, they mentioned the name of the Mad Mullah with +respect and fear. When they mentioned the English they expectorated and +made a gesture too significant to be particularized. And the tom-toms +once again throbbed through the long nights, sending (by a code that was +before Morse) from village to village, from the sea to the Nile, from +the Nile to the Niger and the Zambesi, from the Mediterranean to the +Cape, the news that once more the Mad Mullah had flouted that failing +and treacherous race, the English, and slaughtered those who lived +within their gates, under the shadow of their flag and the promise of +their protection. + +Ere Moussa Isa got his next prominent scar, the signal-drums throbbed +out the news that the gates were thrown open, the flag hauled down, and +the promises shamefully broken. That the representatives of the failing +treacherous race now stood huddled along the sea-shore in fear and +trembling, while those who had helped them in their trouble and had +believed their word were slaughtered by the thousand; that the country +was the home of fire and sword, the oasis-fields yielding nothing but +corpses, the wells choked with dead ... red slaughter, black pestilence, +starvation, misery and death, where had been green cultivation, fenced +villages, the sound of the quern and the well-wheel, the song of women +and the cry of the ploughman to his oxen. News and comments which did +nothing to lessen the pride and insolence of the Jubaland tribesmen, of +the Wak tribesmen, of the bold Zubhier sons of the desert, nor to strike +terror to the hearts of the murderers of Captain Aylmer and Mr. Jenner, +of slave-traders, game-poachers, raiders, wallowers in slaughter.... + +Another very noticeable and remarkable scar broke the fine lines and +smooth contours of Moussa's throat and another memory was as indelibly +established in his mind as was the said scar on his flesh. + +At any time that he fingered the horrible ridged cicatrice, he could see +the boundless ocean and the boundless blue sky from a wretched cranky +canoe-shaped boat, in which certain Arab, Somali, Negro, and other +gentlemen were proceeding all the way from near Berbera to near Aden +with large trustfulness in Allah and with certain less creditable goods. +It was a long, unwieldy vessel which ten men could row, one could steer +with a broad oar, and a small three-cornered sail could keep before the +wind. + +But the various-clad crew of this cranky craft were gentlemen all, who, +beyond running up the string-tied sail to the clothes-prop mast, or +taking a trick at the wheel--another clothes-prop with a large disc of +wood at the water-end, were far above work. + +Trusting in Allah and Mohammed his Prophet is a lot easier than rowing a +lineless, blunt-nosed, unseaworthy boat beneath a tropical sun. So they +trusted in God, and permitted Moussa Isa, slave-boy, to do all that it +was humanly possible for him to do. + +Moussa did all that was expected of him, but not so Allah and Mohammed +his Prophet. + +The gentle breeze that (sometimes) carries you steadily over a glassy +sea straight up the forty-fifth meridian of east longitude from Berbera +to Aden in the month of October, failed these worthy trustful Argonauts, +and they were becalmed. + +But Time is made for slaves, and the only slave upon the Argosy was +Moussa Isa, and so the becalming was neither here nor there. The cargo +would keep (if kept dry) for many a long day--and the greater the delay +in delivery, the greater the impatience of the consignees and their +willingness to pay even more than the stipulated price--its weight in +silver _per_ rifle. But food is made for men as well as slaves, and if +you, in your noble trustfulness, resolutely decline to reduce your daily +rations, there must, with mathematical certitude of date, arrive the +final period to any given and limited supply. Though banking wholly with +Heaven in the matter of their own salvation from hunger, the Argonauts +displayed mere worldly wisdom in the case of Moussa Isa and gave him the +minimum of food that might be calculated to keep within him strength +adequate to his duties of steering, swarming up the mast, baling, +cooking, massaging the liver of the Leading Gentleman, and so forth. And +in due course, the calm continuing, these pious and religious voyagers +came to the bitter end of their water, their rice, their _dhurra_, their +dates--and all (except the salt and coffee which formed part of the +ostensible, bogus cargo) that they had, as they too-slowly drifted into +the track of those vessels that enter and leave the strait of +Bab-el-Mandeb, the Gate of Tears, the tears of the starving, drowning, +ship-wrecked and castaway. + +Salt _per se_ is a poor diet, and, for the making of potable coffee, +fresh water is very necessary. + +Some of the Argonauts were, as has been said, Negro gentlemen. On the +third day of absolute starvation, one had an Idea and made a suggestion. + +The Leading Gentleman entertained it with an open mind and without +enthusiasm. + +The Tanga tout acclaimed it as a divine inspiration. + +The one-eyed Moor literally smiled upon it. As his eye was single and +his body therefore full of light, he saw the beauty of the notion at +once. Had it been full of food instead, we may charitably suppose he +would not have remarked:-- + +"A pity we did not feed him up better". + +For the suggestion concerned Moussa Isa and food--Moussa Isa as food, +in point of fact. The venerable gentle-looking Arab, whose face beamed +effulgent with benevolence and virtue, murmured:-- + +"He will have but little blood, the dog. None of it must +be--er--_wasted_ by the--ah--butcher." + +The huge man with the neat geometrical pattern of little scars, +perpendicular on the forehead, horizontal on the cheeks and in +concentric circles on the chest (done with loving care and a knife, in +his infancy, by his papa) said only "_Ptwack_" as he chewed a mouthful +of coffee-beans and hide. It may have been a pious ejaculation or a +whole speech in his own peculiar vernacular. It was a tremendous +smacking of tremendous lips, and the expression which overspread his +speaking countenance was of gusto, appreciative, and such as accords +with lip-smacking. + +But a very fair man (very fair beside the Negroes, Somalis, Arabs and +others our little black and brown brothers), a man with grey-blue eyes, +light brown hair and moustache, and olive complexion, said to the +originator of the Idea in faultless English, if not in faultless taste +"You damned swine". + +A look of profoundest disgust overspread his handsome young face, a face +which undoubtedly lent itself to very clear expression of such feelings +as contempt, disgust and scorn, an unusual face, with the thin +high-bridged nose of an English aristocrat, the large eyes and pencilled +black brows of an Indian noble, the sallow yet cheek-flushed complexion +of an Italian peasant-girl, and the firm lips, square jaw, and prominent +chin of a fighting-man. It was essentially an English face in +expression, and essentially foreign in detail; a face of extraordinary +contradictions. The eyes were English in colour, Oriental in size and +shape; the mouth and chin English in mould and in repose, Oriental in +mobility and animation; the whole countenance English in shape, Oriental +in complexion and profile--a fine, high-bred, strong face, upon which +played shadows of cruelty, ferocity, diabolical cunning; a face admired +more quickly than liked, inspiring more speculation than trust. + +The same duality and contradiction were proclaimed in the hands--strong, +tenacious, virile hands; small, fine, delicate hands; hands with the +powerful and purposeful thumb of the West; hands with the supple +artistic fingers and delicate finger-nails of the East. + +And the man's name was in keeping with hands and face, with mind, body, +soul, and character, for, though he would not have done so, he could +have replied to the query "What is your name?" with "My name? Well, in +full, it is John Robin Ross-Ellison Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan, and its explanation is my descent from General Ross-Ellison, +Laird of Glencairn, and from Mir Faquir Mahommed Afzul Khan, Jam of +Mekran Kot". + +In Piccadilly, wearing the garb of Piccadilly, he looked an Englishman +of the English. + +In Abdul Rehman Bazaar, Cabul, wearing the garb of Abdul Rehman Bazaar, +he looked a Pathan of Pathans. In the former case, rather more sunburnt +than the average lounger in Piccadilly; in the latter, rather fairer +than the average Afghan and Pathan loafer in Abdul Rehman Bazaar. + +"Walking down Unter den Linden in Berlin, with upturned moustache, he +looked a most Teutonic German. + +"You observed, my friend?" queried the Leading Gentleman (whose father +was the son of a Negro-Arab who married, or should have married, a +Jewess captured near Fez, and whose mother was the daughter of a +Tunisian Turk by a half-bred Negress of Timbuctoo). + +"I observed," replied the fair young man in the mongrel Arabic-Swahili +_lingua franca_ of the Red Sea and East African littorals "that it is +but natural for dogs to prey upon dogs." + +"There are times when the lion is driven to prey upon dogs, my dear +son," interposed the mild-eyed, benevolent-looking Arab--a pensive smile +on his venerable face. + +"Yes--when he is old, mangy, toothless and deserving of nothing better, +my dear father," replied the fair young man, and his glances at the +white beard, scanty locks and mumbling mouth of the ancient gentleman +had an unpleasantly personal quality. To the casual on-looker it would +have seemed that an impudent boy deliberately insulted a harmless +benevolent old gentleman. To the fair young man, however, it was well +known that the old gentleman's name was famous across Northern and +Eastern Africa for monstrous villainy and fiendish cruelty--the name of +the worst and wickedest of those traders in "black ivory," one of whose +side-lines is frequently gun-running. Also he knew that the +benevolent-looking old dear was desirous that the Leading Gentleman, his +partner, should join with him in a little scheme (a scheme revealed by +one Moussa Isa, eaves-dropper) to give the fair young man some inches +of steel instead of the pounds of Teutonic gold due for services (and +rifles) rendered, when they should reach the quiet spot on the northern +shore of the Persian Gulf where certain bold caravan-leaders would await +them and their precious cargo--a scheme condemned by the Leading +Gentleman on the grounds of the folly of killing the goose that laid the +golden eggs. But then the wealthy Arab patriarch was retiring from the +risky business (already nearly ruined and destroyed by English +gun-boats) after that trip, and the Leading Gentleman was not. Thus it +was that the attitude of the fair young man toward Sheikh Abou ben +Mustapha Muscati did not display that degree of respect that his grey +hairs and beautiful old face would appear to deserve. + +The French-speaking Moslem Berber _ex_-Zouave, from Algiers, suggested +that Moussa Isa, a slave, was certainly not fitting food for gentlemen +who fight, hunt, travel, poach elephants, deal in "black ivory," run +guns, and generally lead a life too picturesque for an over-"educated," +utilitarian and depressing age--but what would you? "One eats--but yes, +one eats, or one ceases to live, and one does not wish to cease to +live--and therefore one eats" and he cocked a yellow and appraising eye +at Moussa Isa. The sense of the meeting appeared to be that though one +would not have chosen this particular animal, necessity knows no +rule--and if the throat be cut while the animal be alive, one may eat of +the flesh and break the Law by so much the less. Moussa Isa must be +_halalled_.[40] But the fair young man drawing a Khyber knife with two +feet of blade, observed that it was now likely that there would be a +plethora of food, as he would most assuredly cut the throat of any +throat-cutter. + + [40] To _halal_ is to make lawful, here to cut the throat of a living + animal in order that its flesh may be eatable by good Mussulmans. + +Moussa Isa regarded him with the look often seen in the eye of an +intelligent dog. + +The venerable Arab smiled meaningly at the Leading Gentleman, and the +Tanga tout asked if all were to hunger for the silly scruples of one. +"If the fair-faced Sheikh did not wish to eat of Moussa, none would urge +it. Live and let live. The gentlemen were hungry; ..." but the fair +young man unreasonably replied, "Then let them eat _thee_ since they can +stomach carrion," and for the moment the subject dropped--largely +because the fair young man was supposed always to carry a revolver, +which was not a habit of his good colleagues. It was another evidence of +his strange duality that revolver and knife were (rare phenomenon) +equally acceptable to him, though in certain environment the pistol +rather suggested itself to his left hand, while in others his right hand +went quite unconsciously to his long knife. + +In the present company no thought of the fire-arm entered his head--this +was a knifing, back-stabbing outfit;--none here who stood up to shoot +and be shot at in fair fight.... + +The Leading Gentleman looked many times and hard at Moussa Isa during +the second day of his own starvation, which was the third of that of his +companions and the fourth of Moussa's. The Leading Gentleman, who was as +rich as he was ragged and dirty, wore a very beautiful knife, which +(though it reposed in a gaudy sheath of yellow, green and blue beads, +fringed with a dependent filigree, or lace work, of similar beads with +tassels of cowrie-shells) hailed from Damascus and had a handle of ivory +and gold, and an inlaid blade on which were inscribed verses from the +Q'ran. + +Moussa Isa knew the pattern of it well by the close of day. The Leading +Gentleman took that evening to sharpening the already sharp blade of the +knife. As he sharpened it on his sandal and the side of the boat, and +tried its edge on his thumb, he regarded the thin body of Moussa Isa +very critically. + +His look blended contempt, anticipation, and anxiety. + +He broke a long brooding silence with the remark:-- + +"The little dog will be thinner still, to-morrow "--a remark which +evoked from the fair youth the reply: "And so will you". + +Perhaps truth covered and excused a certain indelicacy and callousness +in the statement of the Leading Gentleman, albeit the fair young man +appeared annoyed at it. His British blood and instincts became +predominant when the killing and eating of a fellow-creature were on the +_tapis_--the said fellow-creature being on it at the same time. + +A colleague from Dar-es-Salaam, who had an ear and a half, three teeth, +six fingers, innumerable pockmarks and a German accent, said, "He will +have little fat," and there was bitterness in his tone. As a business +man he realized a bad investment of capital. The food in which they had +wallowed should have gone to the fattening of Moussa Isa. Also a fear +struck him. + +"He'll jump overboard in the night--the ungrateful dog. Tie him up," and +he reached for a coil of cord. + +"He will not be tied up," observed the fair youth in a quiet, obstinate +voice. + +"See, my friend," said the Leading Gentleman, "it is a case of one or +many. Better _that_ one," and he pointed to Moussa Isa, "than another," +and he looked meaningly at the fair young man. + +"And yet, I know not," murmured the venerable Arab, "I know not. We are +not in the debt of the slave. We _are_ in the debt of the Sheikh. It +would cancel all obligations if the Sheikh from the North preferred to +offer himself as--" + +The young man's long knife flashed from its sheath as he sprang to his +feet. "Let us eat monkey, if eat we must," he cried, pointing to the +Arab--and, even as he spoke, the huge man with the scars, flinging his +great arms around the youth's ankles, partly rose and neatly tipped him +overboard. He had long hated the fair man. + +Straightway, unseen by any, as all eyes were on the grey-eyed youth and +his assailant, Moussa Isa cast loose the _toni_[41] that nestled beneath +the stern of the larger boat. He was about to shout that he had done so +when he realised that this would defeat his purpose, and also that the +fair Sheikh was still under water. + + [41] Small dug-out canoe. + +"Good," murmured the old Arab, "now brain him as he comes up--and secure +his body." + +But the fair youth knew better than to rise in the immediate +neighbourhood of the boat. Swimming with the ease, grace and speed of a +seal, he emerged with bursting lungs a good hundred yards from where he +had disappeared. Having breathed deeply he again sank, to re-appear at +a point still more distant, and be lost in the gathering gloom. + +"He is off to Cabul to lay his case before the Amir," observed the +elderly Arab with grim humour. + +"Doubtless," agreed the Leading Gentleman, "he will swim the 2000 miles +to India, and then up the Indus to Attock." And added, "But, bear +witness all, if the young devil turn up again some day, that _I_ had no +quarrel with him.... A pity! A pity!... Where shall we find his like, a +Prank among the Franks, an Afghan among Afghans, a Frenchman in Algiers, +a nomad robber in Persia, a Bey in Cairo, a Sahib in Bombay--equally at +home as gentleman or tribesman? Where shall we find his like again as +gatherer of the yellow honey of Berlin and as negotiator in Marseilles +(where the discarded Gras breech-loaders of the army grow) and in +Muscat? Woe! Woe!" + +"Or his like for impudence to his elders, harshness in a bargain, +cunning and greed?" added the benevolent-looking Arab, who had gained a +handsome sum by the murder. + +"For courage," corrected the Leading Gentleman, and with a heavy sigh, +groaned. "We shall never see him more--and he was worth his weight to me +annually in gold." + +"No, you won't see him again," agreed the Arab. "He'll hardly swim to +Aden--apart from the little matter of sharks.... A pity the sharks +should have so fair a body--and we starve!" and he turned a fatherly +benevolent eye on Moussa Isa--whom a tall slender black Arab, from the +hills about Port Sudan, of the true "fuzzy-wuzzy" type, had seized in +his thin but Herculean arms as the boy rose to spring into the _toni_ +and paddle to the rescue of his benefactor. + +The Dar-es-Salaam merchant threw Fuzzy Wuzzy a coil of cord and Moussa +Isa (who struggled, kicked, bit and finding resistance hopeless, +screamed, "Follow the boat, Master," as he lay on his back), was bound +to a cracked and salt-encrusted beam or seat that supported, or was +supported by, the cracked and salt-encrusted sides of the canoe-shaped +vessel. + +Although very, very hungry, and perhaps as conscienceless and wicked a +gang as ever assembled together on the earth or went down to the sea in +ships, there was yet a certain reluctance on the part of some of the +members to revert to cannibalism, although all agreed that it was +necessary. + +Among the reluctant-to-commence were those who had no negro blood. Among +the ready-to-commence, the full-blooded negroes were the most impatient. + +Although very hungry and rather weak they were in different case from +that of European castaway sailors, in that all were inured to long +periods of fasting, all had crossed the Sahara or the Sus, lived for +days on a handful of dates, and had tightened the waist-string by way of +a meal. Few of them ever thought of eating between sunrise and sunset. +The lives of the negroes were alternations of gorging and starving, +incredible repletion and more incredible fasting; devouring vast masses +of hippopotamus-flesh to-day, and starving for a week thereafter; pounds +of prime meat to-day, gnawing hunger and the weakness of semi-starvation +for the next month. + +"At sunrise," said the Leading Gentleman finality. + +Good! That left the so-desirable element of chance. It left opportunity +for change of programme inasmuch as sunrise might disclose help in the +shape of a passing ship. The matter would rest with Heaven, and pious +men might lay them down to sleep with clear conscience, reflecting that, +should it be the Will of Allah that His servants should not eat of this +flesh, other would be provided; should other not be provided it was +clearly the Will of Allah that His servants should eat of this flesh! +Excellent--there would be a meal soon after sunrise. + +And the Argonauts laid them down to sleep, hungry but gratefully +trustful, trustfully grateful. But Moussa Isa watched the wondrous +lustrous stars throughout the age-long, flash-short night and thought of +many things. + +Had the splendid, noble Sheikh from the North heard his cry and had he +found the _toni_? How far had he swum ere his strength gave out or, with +sudden swirl, he was dragged under by the man-eating shark? Would he +remove his long cotton shirt, velvet waistcoat and baggy cotton +trousers? The latter would present difficulties, for the waist-string +would tangle and the water would swell the knot and prevent the drawing +of string over string. + +Moreover, the garments, though very baggy, were tight round the ankles. +Would he cast off his beautiful yard-long Khyber knife? It would go to +his heart to do that, both for the sake of the weapon itself and because +he would have to go to his death unavenged, seized by a shark without +giving it its death-wound. Had he heard and would he follow the boat in +the moonlight, find the _toni_ and escape? Could he swim to Aden? They +had said not--even leaving sharks out of consideration, and indeed it +must be forty or fifty miles away. Judging by their progress they must +have done about one hundred and fifty miles since they embarked at the +lonely spot on the Berbera coast for the other lonely spot on the Aden +coast, where certain whisperings with certain mysterious camel-riders +would preface their provisioning for the voyage along the weary +Hadramant coast to the Ras el Had and Muscat--just a humble boat-load of +poor but honest toilers and tradesmen, interested in dried fish, dates, +the pearl-fishery and the pettiest trading. No, he would never reach +land, wonderful swimmer as he was. He would be lost in the sea as is the +Webi Shebeyli River in the sands of the South, unless he followed the +drifting boat and found the _toni_. Otherwise, he might be picked up, +but he would have to keep afloat all night to do that, unless he had the +extraordinary luck to be seen by dhow or ship before dark. That could +hardly be, unless the same ship or dhow were visible from their own +boat, and none had been seen. + +No, he must be dead--and Moussa Isa would shortly follow him. How he +wished he could have given his life to save him. Had he known, he would +have cried out, "Let them eat me, O Master," and prevented him from +risking his life. If he should get the chance of striking one blow for +his life in the morning he would bestow it upon the scar-faced beast who +had tripped the fair Sheik overboard. If he could strike two he would +give the second to the old Arab who flogged women and children to death +with the _kourbash_,[42] as an amusement, and whose cruelties were +famous in a cruel land; the old Evil who hated, and plotted the death +of, the fair Sheikh, with the leader of the expedition in order that +they might divide his large share of the gun-running proceeds and German +subsidy. If he could strike a third blow it should be at the filthy +Hubshi of the Aruwimi, the low degraded Woolly One from the dark +Interior (of human sacrifice, cannibalism and ju-ju) who had proposed +eating him. Yes--if he could grab the leader's knife and deal three such +stabs as the Sheikh dealt the lion, at these three, he could die +content. But this was absurd! They would _halal_ him first, of course, +and unbind him afterwards.... They might unbind him first though, so as +to place him favourably with regard to--economy. They would use the +empty army-ration tin, shining there like silver in the moonlight, the +tin with which he had done so much weary baling. Doubtless the leader +and the Arab would share its contents. He grudged it them, and hoped a +quarrel and struggle might arise and cause it to be spilt. + + [42] Rhinoceros-hide whip. + +An unpleasant death! Without cowardice one might dislike the thought of +having one's throat cut while one's hands were bound and one watched the +blood gushing into an old army-ration tin. Perhaps there would be none +to gush--and a good job too. Serve them right. Could he cut his wrists +on a nail or a splinter or with the cords, and cheat them, if there were +any blood in him now. He would try. Yes, an unpleasant death. No one, +no true Somali, that is, objected to a prod in the heart with a +shovel-headed spear, a thwack in the head with a hammered slug, a sweep +at the neck with a big sword--but to have a person sawing at your throat +with weak and shaking hands is rotten.... + +One quite appreciated that masters must eat and slaves must die, and the +religious necessity for cutting the throat while the animal is alive, +according to the Law--and there was great comfort in the fact that the +leader's knife was inscribed with verses of the Q'ran and would probably +be used for the job. (The leader liked jobs of that sort.) Countless it +would confer distinction in Paradise upon one already distinguished as +having died to provide food for a band of right-thinking, +religious-minded gentlemen, who, even in such terrible straits, forgot +not the Law nor omitted the ceremonies.... + +Where now was the fair-faced master who so resembled the English but was +so much braver, fiercer, so much more staunch? Though fair as they, and +knowing their speech, he could not be of a race that led whole tribes to +trust in them, called them "Friendlies" and then forsook them; came to +them in the day of trouble asking help, and then scuttled away and +deserted their allies, leaving them to face alone the Power whose wrath +and vengeance their help-giving had provoked. Yet there were good men +among them--there was Kafil[43] Bey for example. Kafil Bey whose last +noble fight he had witnessed. If the fair-faced Sheikh had any of the +weak English blood in his veins it must be of such a man as Kafil Bey. + + [43] Corfield? + +Was he still swimming? Had he been picked up? Was he shark's food? To +think that _he_ should have come to his death over such a thing as a +slave boy (albeit a Somali and no Hubshi). + +This was an Emir indeed. + +An idea!... He called aloud: "Are you there, Master? The _toni_ is loose +and must be near," again and again, louder and louder. Perhaps he was +following and would hear. Again, louder still. + +The one-eyed man, disturbed by the cry, stirred, threw his arms abroad, +stretched, and put his foot on the mouth of a neighbour lying +head-to-foot beside him. The neighbour snored loudly and turned his face +sideways under the foot. He had slept standing jammed against the wall +in the Idris of Omdurman, one of the most terrible jails of all time, +and a huge foot on his face was a matter of no moment. + +The Tanga tout suddenly emitted a scream, a blood-curdling scream, and +immediately scratched his ribs like a monkey.... Moussa Isa held his +peace. + +Anon the scar-faced man turned over, moving others. + +Could it be near dawn already, and were his proprietors waking up? He +could see no change in the East, no paling of the lustrous stars. Was it +an hour ago or eight hours ago that the night had fallen? Had he an hour +to live or a night? Would he ever see Berbera again, steer a boat down +its deep inlet, gaze upon its two lighthouses, its fort, hospital, +barracks, piers, warehouses, bazaars; drive a camel along by its seven +miles of aqueduct, look down from the hills upon this wonderful and +mighty metropolis, greater and grander than Jibuti, Zeyla, Bulhar and +Karam, surely the greatest and most marvellous port and city of the +world, ere driving on through the thorn-bush and acacia-jungle into the +vast waterless Haud? Would he ever again see the sun rise in the desert, +smell the smoke of the camel-dung cooking-fires.... What was that? The +sky was paling in the East, growing grey, a rose-pink flush on the +horizon--dawn and death were at hand. + +Before the heralds of the sun, the moon slowly veiled her face with +lightest gossamer while the weaker stars fled. The daily miracle and +common marvel proceeded before the tired eyes of the bound slave; the +rim of the sun appeared above the rim of the sea; the moon more deeply +veiled her face from the fierce red eye, and gracefully and gradually +retired before the advance of the usurping conqueror--and the slave +seemed to hear the fat croaking voice of the leader saying, "At +sunrise". + +Broad day and all but he asleep. Well--it had come at last. When would +they awake? Was the toni anywhere near? + +The man with the geometrical pattern of scars on his face and chest +suddenly sat bolt upright like a released spring, yawned, looked at the +sky and the limp sail, and then at Moussa Isa. As his eye fell upon the +boy he smiled copiously, protruded a very red tongue between very white +teeth, and licked huge blue-black lips. He leaned over and awakened the +Leading Gentleman. Then he pointed to the Victim. Both watched the +horizon where, beyond distant Bombay and China, the sun was appearing, +rising with the rapidity of the minute hand of a big clock. Neither +looked to the West. + +The child knew that when the sun had risen clear of the sea, he might +look upon it for a minute or two--and no more. A puff of wind fanned his +cheek; the sail filled and drew. The boat moved through the water and +the one-eyed gentleman, arising and treading upon the out-lying tracts +of the sleepers, stumbled to the rudder, which was tied with +coconut-fibre to an upright stake. The breeze strengthened and there was +a ripple of water at the bows. Was he saved? + +The one-eyed person looked more disappointed than pleased, and observed +to the Leading Gentleman: "We cannot live to Aden, though the wind hold. +We must eat," and he regarded the figure of Moussa Isa critically, +appraisingly, with mingled favour and disfavour. His expressive +countenance seemed to say, "He is food--but he is poor food". + +Nevertheless an unmistakable look of relief overspread his face as the +Leading Gentleman replied with conviction, "We must eat...." and added, +"This is but a dawn-breeze and will not take us half a mile". + +"Then let us eat forthwith," said the one-eyed man, and he fairly beamed +upon Moussa Isa, doubtless with the said light of which his body was +full, in consequence of his singleness of vision. The whole party was by +this time awake and Moussa Isa the cynosure of neighbouring eyes. The +Leading Gentleman drew his beautiful knife from its tawdry sheath and +gave it a last loving strop on his horny palm. + +Willing hands dragged the head of Moussa Isa across the beam and willing +bodies sat upon him, that he might not waste time, and something more +precious, by thoughtless wriggling, delaying breakfast. The Leading +Gentleman crawled to an advantageous position, and having bowed in +prayer, sawed away industriously. + +Moussa Isa wished to shriek to him that he was a fool and a bungler; +that throats were not to be cut in that fashion, with hackings and +sawing at the gullet. Knew the clumsy fumbler nothing of big +blood-vessels?... but he could not speak. + +"_That_ is not the way," said the benevolent-looking old Arab. "Stab, +man, stab under the ear--don't cut ... not there, anyhow." + +The Leading Gentleman tried the other side of the double-edged blade, +continuing obstinately, and Moussa Isa contrived a strange sound which +died away on a curious bubbling note and he grew faint. + +Suddenly the one-eyed individual at the rudder screamed aloud, and +disturbed the Leading Gentleman's earnest endeavour to prevent waste. +Not from sensibility did the one-eyed scream, nor on account of his +growing conviction that the Leading Gentleman was getting more than his +share, but because, as all realized upon looking up, a great ship was +bearing down upon them from the West. + +So intent had all been upon the preparation of breakfast that the +steamer was almost audible when seen. + +Good! Here came water, rice, bread, sugar, flour, and perhaps meat, for +poor castaways, and probably money--from kindly lady-passengers, this +last, for the ship was obviously a liner. The wretched Moussa Isa's +carcase was now superfluous--nay dangerous, and must be disposed of at +once, for Europeans are most kittle cattle. They will exterminate your +tribe with machine-guns, gin, small-pox, and still nastier things, but +they are fearfully shocked at a bit of killing on the part of others. +They call it murder. And though they will well-nigh depopulate a country +themselves, they will wax highly indignant if any of the survivors do a +little slaying, even if they kill but a miserable slave, like this +Somali dog. + +Heave him overboard. + +No. Ships carry the "far-eye," the magic instrument that makes the +distant near, that brings things from miles away to within a few yards. +Doubtless telescopes were on them already. Keep in a close group round +the body, smuggle it under the palm-mats and make believe to have been +trying to kindle a fire in an old kerosine-oil tin.... Signals of +distress appeared and Moussa Isa disappeared. The great steamer +approached, slowed down, and came to a standstill beside the boat of the +starving castaways. From her cliff-like side the passengers, crowding +the rails of her many decks, looked down with interest upon a +prehistoric craft in which lay a number of poor emaciated blacks and +Arabs, clad for the most part in scanty cotton rags. These poor +creatures feebly extended skinny hands and feebly raised quavering +voices, as they begged for water and a little rice, only water and a +little rice in the name of Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate. Their +tins, lotahs and goat-skins were filled, bags of rice, bread and flour +were lowered to them; a box of sugar and a packet of biscuit were added; +and a gentle little rain of coins fell as though from Heaven. + +Kodaks clicked, clergymen beamed, ladies said, "How sweetly +picturesque--poor dears"; the Captain murmured, "Damnedest scoundrels +unhung--but can't leave 'em to starve"; the "poor dears" smiled largely +and ate wolfishly; Moussa Isa bled, and the great steamer resumed her +way. + +"Pat" Brighte (she was Cleopatra Diamond Brighte who married Colonel +Dearman of the Gungapur Volunteer Bines) found she had got a splendid +snap-shot when her films were developed at Gungapur. A little later she +got another when the look-out saw, and a boat picked up, a man who was +lying in a little dug-out or _toni_. When able to speak, he told the +_serang_[44] of the lascars that he was the sole survivor of a +bunder-boat which had turned turtle and sunk. He understood nothing but +Hindustani.... Miss Brighte pitied the poor wretch but thought he looked +rather horrid.... + + [44] Native boatswain. + +The hearts of the castaways were filled with contentment as their +stomachs were filled with food, and so busily did they devote themselves +to eating, drinking, and sleeping that they forgot all about Moussa Isa +beneath the palm-mats. + +When they chanced upon him he was just alive, and his wound was closed. +The attitude in which he had been dumped down upon the cargo (the +ostensible and upper strata thereof, consisting of hides and salt, with +a hint of ostrich-feathers, coffee, frankincense and myrrh) had favoured +his chance of recovery, for, thanks to a friendly bundle, his head was +pressed forward to his chest and the lips of the gaping wound in his +throat were shut. + +Moussa Isa was tougher than an Indian chicken. + +Near Aden his proprietors were captured by an officious and +unsympathetic police (Moussa was sent to what he dreamed to be Heaven +and later perceived to be a hospital) and while they went to jail, a +number of bristly-haired Teutonic gentlemen at the Freidrichstrasse, +Arab gentlemen at Muscat, and Afghan gentlemen at Cabul, were made to +exercise the virtue of patience. So the would-be murderers of John Robin +Ross-Ellison Ilderim Dost Mahommed unintentionally saved him from jail, +but never received his acknowledgments.... + +Discharged from the hospital, Moussa became his own master, a gentleman +at large, and, for a time, prospered in the coal-trade. + +He steered a coal-lighter that journeyed between the shore and the +ships. + +One day he received a blow, a curse, and an insult, from the _maccudam_ +or foreman of the gang that worked in the boat which he steered. Neither +blows nor curses were of any particular account to Moussa, but this man +Sulemani, a nondescript creature of no particular race, and only a man +in the sense that he was not a woman nor a quadruped, had called him +"_Hubshi_" Woolly One. Had called Moussa Isa of the Somal a _Hubshi_, as +though he had been a common black nigger. And, of course, it was +intentional, for even this eater of dogs and swine and lizards knew the +great noble, civilized and cultured Somal, Galla, Afar and Abyssinian +people from niggers. Even an English hide-and-head-buying tripper and +_soi-disant_ big-game hunter knew a Zulu from a Hottentot, a Masai from +a Wazarambo, and a Somali from a Nigger! + +The only question was as to _how_ the scoundrel should be killed, for +he was large and strong, and never far from a shovel, crow-bar, +boat-hook or some weapon. Not much hope of being able to fasten on his +throat like a young leopard on a dibatag, kudu or impala buck. + +As Moussa sat behind him at the tiller, he would regard the villain's +neck with interest, his fat neck, just below and behind the big ear. + +If he only had a knife--such as the beauty that once cut his throat--or +even a scrap of iron or of really hard pointed wood, honour could be +satisfied and a stain removed from the scutcheon of Moussa Isa of the +Somal race, insulted. + +One lucky night he got his next scar, the fine one that ornamented his +cheek-bone, and a really serviceable weapon of offence against the +offender Sulemani. + +On this auspicious night, a festive English sailor flung a bottle at +him, in merry sport, as he passed beneath the verandah of the temple of +Venus and Bacchus in which the sailor sprawled. It struck him in the +face, broke against his cheek-bone, and provided him with a new scar and +a serviceable weapon, a dagger, convenient to handle and deadly to slay. +The bottle-neck was a perfect hilt and the long tapering needle-pointed +spire of glass projecting from it was a perfect blade--rightly used, of +course. Only a fool would attempt a heart-stab with such a dagger, as it +would shatter on the ribs, leaving the fool to pay for his folly. But +the neck-stab--for the big blood-vessels--oho! And Moussa Isa licked +his chops just as he had seen the black-maned lion do in his own +fatherland; just as did the lion from whom the fair Sheikh had saved +him. + +Toward the sailor, Moussa felt no resentment for the assault that had +laid him bleeding in the gutter. Had he called him "_Hubshi_" it would +have been a different matter--perhaps very different for the sailor. +Moussa Isa regarded curses, cruelties, blows, wounds, attempts at +murder, as mere natural manifestations of the attitude of their +originators, and part of the inevitable scheme of things. Insults to his +personal and racial Pride were in another category altogether. + +Yes--the bottle must have been thus usefully broken by the hand of the +Supreme Deity himself, prompted by Moussa's own particular and private +_kismet_, to provide Moussa with the means of doing his duty by himself +and his race, in the matter of the dog who had likened a long-haired, +ringletty-haired aquiline-nosed, thin-lipped son of the Somals to a +Woolly One--a black beast of the jungle! + +Our young friend had never heard of the historical glass-bladed daggers +of the _bravos_ of Venice, but he saw at a glance, as he rose to his +feet and stared at the bottle, that he could do his business (and that +of the foreman) with the fortunately--shaped fragment, and eke leave the +point of the weapon in the wound for future complications if the blow +failed of immediate fatal effect. + +He bided his time.... + +One black night Moussa Isa sat on the stern of his barge holding to a +rope beneath the high wall of the side of the P. & O. liner, _Persia_, +in shadow and darkness undispelled by the flickering flare of a brazier +of burning fuel, designed to illuminate the path of panting, sweating, +coal-laden coolies up and down narrow bending planks, laid from the +lighter to the gloomy hole in the ship's side. + +The hot, still air was thick with coal-dust and the harmless necessary +howls of the hundreds of sons of Ham, toiling at high pressure. + +In the centre of a vast, silent circle of mysterious lamp-spangled sea +and shore, and of star-spangled sky, this spot was Inferno, an offence +to the brooding still immensity. + +And suddenly Moussa Isa was dimly conscious of his enemy, of him who had +insulted the great Somal race and Moussa Isa. On the broad edge of the +big barge Sulemani stood, before, and a foot below him, in the darkness, +yelling directions, threats, promises and encouragement to his gang. If +only there had been a moon or light by which he could see to strike! +Suddenly the edge of a beam of yellow light from a port-hole struck upon +Sulemani's neck, illuminating it below and behind his ear. Mrs. "Pat" +Dearman, homeward bound, had just entered her cabin and switched on the +electric light. (When last she passed Aden she had been Miss Cleopatra +Diamond Brighte, bound for Gungapur and the bungalow of her brother.) + +It was Mrs. Pat Dearman's habit to read a portion of the Scriptures +nightly, ere retiring to rest, for she was a Good Woman and considered +the practice to be not only a mark of, but essential to, goodness. + +Doubtless the Powers of Evil smiled sardonically when they noted that +the light which she evoked for her pious exercise lit the hand of Moussa +Isa to murder, providing opportunity. Moussa Isa weighed chances and +considered. He did not want to bungle it and lose his revenge and his +life too. Would he be seen if he struck now? The light fell on the very +spot for the true infallible death-stroke. Should he strike now, here, +in the midst of the yelling mob? + +Rising silently, Moussa drew his dagger of glass from beneath his only +garment, aimed at the patch of light upon the fat neck, and struck. +Sulemani lurched, collapsed, and fell between the lighter and the ship +without an audible sound in that dim pandemonium. + +Even as the "dagger" touched flesh, the light was quenched, Mrs. Pat +Dearman having realized that the stuffy, hot cabin was positively +uninhabitable until the port-hole could be opened, after coaling +operations were completed. + +Moussa Isa reseated himself, grabbed the rope again, and with clear +conscience, duty done, calmly awaited that which might follow. + +Nothing followed. None had seen the deed, consummated in unrelieved +gloom; the light had failed most timely.... + +The next person who mortally affronted Moussa Isa, committing the +unpardonable sin, was a grievously fat, foolish Indian Mohammedan youth +whose father supported four wives, five sons, six daughters and himself +in idleness and an Aden shop. + +It was a remarkably idle and unobtrusive shop and yet money flowed into +it without stint, mysteriously and unostentatiously, the conduits of its +flow being certain modest and retiring Arab visitors in long brown or +white _haiks_, with check cotton head-dresses girt with ropes of +camel-hair, who collogued with the honest tradesman and departed as +silently and unobtrusively as they came.... + +One of them, strangely enough, ejaculated "_Himmel_" and +"_Donnerwetter_" as often as "_Bismillah_" and "_Inshallah_" when he +swore. + +The very fat son of this secretive house in an evil hour one +inauspicious evening took it upon him to revile and abuse his father's +servant, one Moussa Isa, an African boy, as he performed divers domestic +duties in the exiguous "compound" of the dwelling-place and refused to +do the fat youth's behest ere completing them. + +"Haste thee at once to the bazaar, thou dog," screamed the fat youth. + +"Later on," replied Moussa Isa, using the words that express the general +attitude of the East. + +"Now, dog. Now, Hubshi, or I will beat thee." + +"I will kill _you_," replied Moussa Isa, and again bided his time. + +"Hubshi, Hubshi, Hubshi," goaded the misguided fat one. + +His Kismet led the youth, some weeks later, to lay him down and sleep in +the shade of the house upon some broad flagstones. Here Moussa found him +and regretted the loss of his glass-dagger,--last seen in the neck of a +foreman of coal-coolies toppling into the dark void between a barge and +a ship,--but remembered a big heavy stone used to facilitate the scaling +of the compound wall. + +Staggering with it to the spot where the fat youth lay slumbering +peacefully, Moussa Isa, in the sight of all men (who happened to be +looking), dashed it upon his fez-adorned head, and established the +hitherto disputable fact that the fat youth had brains. + +To the Magistrate, Moussa Isa offered neither excuse nor prayer. +Explanation he vouchsafed in the words:-- + +"He called _me_, Moussa Isa of the Somali, a _Hubshi!_" + +Being of tender years and of insignificant stature he was condemned to +flogging and seven years in a Reformatory School. He was too juvenile +for the Aden Jail. The Reformatory School nearest to Aden is at Duri in +India, and thither, in spite of earnest prayers that he might go to hard +labour in Aden Jail like a man and a Somali, was Moussa Isa duly +transported and therein incarcerated. + +At the Duri Reformatory School, Moussa Isa was profoundly miserable, +most unhappy, and deeply depressed by a sense of the very cruellest +injustice. + +For here they simply did not know the difference between a Somal and a +woolly-haired dog of a negro. They honestly did not know that there was +a difference. To them, a clicking Bushman was as a Nubian, an +earth-eating Kattia as a Kabyle, a face-cicatrized, tooth-sharpened +cannibal of the Aruwimi as a Danakil,--a _Hubshi_ as a Somal. They +simply did not know. To them all Africans were _Hubshis_ (just as to an +English M.P. all the three or four hundred millions of Indians are +Bengali babus). They meant no insult; they knew no better. All Africans +were black niggers and every soul in the place, from Brahmin to +Untouchable, looked down upon the African, the Black Man, the Nigger, +the Cannibal, the _Hubshi_, sent from Africa to defile their Reformatory +and destroy their caste. + +Here, the proud self-respecting Moussa, jealous champion of the honour +of his, to him, high and noble race, found himself a god-send to the +Out-castes, the Untouchables, the Depressed Classes, Mangs, Mahars, and +Sudras,--they whose touch, nay the touch of whose very shadow, is +defilement! For, at last, they, too, had some one to look down upon, to +despise, to insult. After being the recipients-of-contempt as naturally +and ordainedly as they were breathers-of-air, they at last could apply a +salve, and pass on to another the utter contempt and loathing which they +themselves received and accepted from the Brahmins and all those of +Caste. They had found one lower than themselves. _Moussa Isa of the +Somali_ was the out-cast of out-casts, the pariah of pariahs, prohibited +from touching the untouchables, one of a class depressed below the +depressed classes--in short a _Hubshi!_ + +Even a broad-nosed, foreheadless, blubber--lipped aborigine from the +hill-jungles objected to his presence! + +In the small, self-contained, self-supporting world of the Reformatory, +it was Moussa Isa against the World. And against the World he stood up. + +It had to learn the difference between a Somali and a _Hubshi_ at any +cost--the cost of Moussa's life included. + +What added to the sorrow of the situation was the realization of how +charming and desirable a retreat the place was in itself,--apart from +its ignorant and stupid inhabitants. + +Expecting a kind of torture-house wherein he would be starved, sweated, +thrashed by brutal _kourbash_-wielding overseers, he found the most +palatial and comfortable of clubs, a place of perfect peace, safety, +and ease, where one was kindly treated by those in authority, +sumptuously fed, luxuriously lodged, and provided with pleasant +occupation, attractive amusements and reasonable leisure. + +He had always heard and believed that the English were mad, and now he +knew it. + +As a punishment for murder he had got a birching that merely tickled +him, and a free ticket to seven years' board, lodging, clothing, +lighting, medical care, instruction and diversion! + +_Wow_! + +Were it not for the presence of the insolent, ignorant, untravelled, +inexperienced, soft-living, lily-livered dogs of inhabitants, the place +was the Earthly Paradise. They were the crocodile in the ointment. + +A young Brahmin, son of a well-paid Government servant, and incarcerated +for forgery and theft, was his most annoying persecutor. He was at great +pains to expectorate and murmur "_Hubshi_" in accents of abhorrent +contempt, whenever Moussa Isa chanced between the wind and his nobility. + +The first time, Moussa replied with pitying magnanimity and all +reasonableness:-- + +"I am not a _Hubshi_, but a Somali, which is quite different--even as a +lion is different from a jackal or a man from an ape". + +To which the Brahmin replied but:-- + +"_Hubshi_," and pointed out that there was danger of Moussa Isa's shadow +touching him, if Moussa were not careful. + +"I must kill you if you call me _Hubshi_, understanding that I am of the +Somals," said Moussa Isa. + +"_Hubshi_," would the Brahmin reply and loudly bewail his evil Luck +which had put him in the power of the accursed Feringhi Government--a +Government that compelled a Brahmin to breathe the same air as a filthy +negro dog, a Woolly One of Africa, barely human and most untouchable, a +living Contamination ... and Moussa cast about for a weapon. + +His first opportunity arose when he found the Brahmin, who was in the +book-binding and compositor department, working one day in the same +gardening-gang with himself. + +He had but a watering-can by way of offensive weapon, but good play can +be made with a big iron watering-can wielded in the right spirit and the +right hand. + +Master Brahmin was feebly tapping the earth with a kind of single-headed +pick, and watching him, Moussa Isa saw that, in a quarter of an hour or +so, he might plausibly and legitimately pass within a yard or two of +this his enemy, as he went to and fro between the water-tap and the +strip of flower-border that he was sprinkling.... Would they hang him if +he killed the Brahmin, or would they feebly flog him again and give him +a longer sentence (that he be supported, fed, lodged, clothed and cared +for) than the present seven years? + +There was no foretelling what the mad English would do. Sometimes they +acquitted a criminal and gave him money and education, and sometimes +they sent him to far distant islands in the South and there housed and +fed him free, for life; and sometimes they killed him at the end of a +rope. + +Doubtless Allah smote the English mad to prevent them from stealing the +whole world.... If they were not mad they would do so and enslave all +other races--except their conquerors, the Dervishes, of course.... It +was like the lying hypocrites to call the Great Mullah "the Mad Mullah" +knowing themselves to be mad, and being afraid of their victorious enemy +who had driven them out of Somaliland to the coast forts.... + +Oh, if they would only treat him, Moussa Isa, as an adult, and send him +to the Aden Jail to hard labour. There folk knew a Somali from a +_Hubshi_; a gentleman of Afar and Galla stock, of Arab blood, Moslem +tenets, and Caucasian descent, from a common nigger, a low black +Ethiopian, an eater of men and insects, a worshipper of idols and +_ju-ju_. + +In Aden, men knew a Somali from a _Hubshi_ as surely as they knew an +Emir from a mere Englishman. + +Here, in benighted, ignorant, savage India, the Dark Continent indeed, +men knew not what a Somali was, likened him to a Negro, ranked him lower +than a Hindu even--called him a _Hubshi_ in insolent ignorance. If only +the beautiful Reformatory were in Berbera, and tenanted by Africans. + +Better Aden Jail a thousand times than Duri Reformatory. + +What a splendid joke if the dog of a Brahmin who persistently insulted +him--even after he had been shown his error and ignorance--should be the +unwitting means of his return to Aden--where a Somali gentleman is +recognized. There is no harm about a Jail as such. Far from it. A jail +is a wise man's paradise provided by fools. You have excellent and +plentiful food, a roof against the sun, unfailing water supply, +clothing, interesting occupation, and safety--protection from your +enemies. No man harries you, you are not chained, you are not tortured; +you have all that heart can desire. Freedom?... What _is_ Freedom? +Freedom to die of thirst in the desert? Freedom to be disembowelled by +the Great Mullah? Freedom to be sold as a slave into Arabia or Persia? +Freedom to be the unfed, unpaid, well-beaten property of gun-runners in +the Gulf, or of Arab _safari_ ruffians and "black-ivory" men? Freedom to +be left to the hyaena when you broke down on the march? Freedom to die +of starvation when you fell sick and could not carry coal? Thanks. + +If the mad English provided beautiful refuges, and made the commission +of certain crimes the requisite qualification for admission, let wise +men qualify. + +Take this Reformatory--where else could a little Somali boy get such +safety, peace, food, and sumptuous luxury; everything the heart could +desire, in return for doing a little gardening? Even a house to himself +as though he were the honoured, favourite son of some chief. + +To Moussa Isa, the dark and dingy cell with its bare stone walls, mud +floor, grated aperture and iron door was a fine safe house; its iron +bed-frame with cotton-rug-covered laths and stony pillow, a piece of +wanton luxury; its shelf, stool and utensils, prideful wealth. If only +the place were in Africa or Aden! Well, Aden Jail would do, and if the +Brahmin's death led to his being sent there as a serious and respectable +murderer, it would be a real case of two enemies on one spear--an insult +avenged and a most desired re-patriation achieved. + +That would be subtilty,--at once washing out the insult in the +Brahmin's blood and getting sent whither his heart turned so constantly +and fondly. They had treated him as a juvenile offender because he was +so small and young, and because the killing of the fat Mussulman was his +first offence, as they supposed. Surely they would recognize that he was +a man when he had killed his second enemy--especially if he told them +about Sulemani. What in the name of Allah did they want, to constitute a +real sound criminal, fit for Aden Jail, if three murders were not +enough? Well, he would go on killing until they did have enough, and +were obliged to send him to Aden Jail. There he would behave beautifully +and kill nobody until they wanted to turn him out to starve. Then, since +murder was the requisite qualification, he would murder to admiration. +He knew they could not send him over the way to the Duri Jail, since he +belonged to Aden, had been convicted there, and only sent to the Duri +Reformatory because Aden boasted no such institution.... + +Yes. The Brahmin's corpse should be the stepping-stone to higher things +and the place where people knew a Somali from a Negro. + +If only he were in the carpentry department with Master Brahmin, where +there were axes, hammers, chisels, knives, saws, and various pointed +instruments. Fancy teaching the young gentleman manners and ethnology +with an axe! However, after one or two more journeys between the tap and +the flower-bed, he would pass within striking-distance of the dog as he +worked his slow way along the tract of earth he was supposed to be +digging up with the silly short-handled pick. + +Should he try and seize the pick and give him one on the temple with it? +No, the Brahmin would scream and struggle and the overseer would be on +Moussa Isa in a single bound. He must strike a sudden blow in the act of +passing. + +A few more journeys to the water-tap.... + +_Now!_ "_Hubshi_," eh? + +Halting beside the crouching Brahmin youth, Moussa Isa swung up the +heavy watering-can by the spout and aimed a blow with all his strength +at the side of his enemy's head. He designed to bring the sharp strong +rim of the base behind the ear with the first blow, on the temple with +the second, and just anywhere thereafter, if time permitted of a +thereafter. + +But the aggravating creature tossed his head as Moussa, with a grunt of +energy, brought the vessel down, and the rim merely struck the top of +the shaven skull. Another--harder. Another--with frenzied strength and +the force of long-suppressed rage and sense of wrong. + +And then Moussa was knocked head over heels and sat upon by the overseer +in charge of the garden-gang, while the Brahmin twitched convulsively on +the ground. He was by no means dead, however, and the sole immediate +results, to Moussa, were penal diet, solitary confinement in his +palatial cell, a severe sentence of corn-grinding with the heavy quern, +and most joyous recollections of the sound of the water-can on the pate +of the foe. + +"I have still to kill you, of course," he whispered to his victim, the +next time they met, and the Brahmin went in terror of his life. He was +a very clever young person and had passed an astounding number of +examinations in the course of his brief career. But he was not +courageous, and his "education" had given him skill in nothing +practical, except in penmanship, which skill he had devoted to forgery. + +"Why did you violently commit this dastardish deed, and assault the +harmless peaceful Brahmin?" asked the Superintendent, a worthy and +voluble babu, and then translated the question into debased Hindustani. + +"He called me _Hubshi_, and I will kill him," replied Moussa. + +"Oho! and you kill everyone who calls you _Hubshi_, do you, Master +African?" + +"I do. I wish to go to Aden Jail for attempting murder. It will be +murder if I am kept here where none knows a man from a dog." + +"Oho! And you would kill even _me_, I suppose, if I called you +_Hubshi_." + +"Of course! I will kill you in any case if I am not sent to Aden Jail." + +The babu decided that it was high time for some other institution to +shelter this touchy and truculent person, and that he would lay the case +before the next weekly Visitor and ask for it to be submitted to the +Committee at their ensuing monthly meeting. + +The Visitor of the week happened to be the Educational Inspector. "Wants +to leave India, does he?" said the Inspector, looking Moussa over as he +heard the statement of the Superintendent. "I admire his taste. India is +a magnificent country to leave." + +The Educational Inspector, a very keen, thoughtful and competent +educationist, was a disappointed man, like so many of his Service. He +felt that he had, for quarter of a century, strenuously woven ropes of +sand. When his liver was particularly sluggish he felt that for quarter +of a century he had worked industriously, not at a useless thing, but at +an evil thing--a terrible belief. + +Moreover, after quarter of a century of faithful labour and strict +economy, he found himself with a load of debt, broken health, and a +cheaply educated family of boys and girls to whom he was a complete +stranger--merely the man who found the money and sent it Home, visiting +them from time to time at intervals of four or five years. India had +killed his wife, and broken him. + +He had had what seemed to him to be bitter experience also. An +individual, notoriously slack and incompetent, ten years his junior, had +been promoted over his head, because he was somebody's cousin and the +kind of fatuous ass that only labours industriously in drawing-rooms and +at functions, recuperating by slacking idly in offices and at duties--a +paltry but paying game much practised by a very small class in India. + +Another individual, by reason of his having come to India two boats +earlier than the Inspector, drew Rs. 500 a month more than he did, this +being the Senior Inspector's Allowance. That he was reported on as lazy, +eccentric, and irregular, made no difference to the fact that he was a +fortnight senior to, and therefore worth Rs. 500 a month more than, the +next man. The recipient regarded the extra trifle (£400 a year) as his +bare right and merest due. The Inspector regarded it as an infamous +piece of injustice and folly that for fifteen years the whole of this +sum should go to a lazy fool because he happened to set sail from +England on a certain date, and not a fortnight later. So he loathed and +detested India where he had had bad luck, bad health and what he +considered bad treatment, and sympathized with the desire of Moussa Isa. + +"Why do you want to go back to Aden?" he inquired in the _lingua franca_ +of the Indian Empire, of Moussa whose heart beat high with hope. + +"Because here, where there are no lions, wolves think a lion is a dog; +here where there are no men, asses think a man is a monkey. I am a +Somal, and these ignorant camels think I am a negro--a filthy Hubshi." + +"And you tried to kill another boy because he called you 'Hubshi,' eh?" + +"I did, Sahib, and I will kill him yet if I be not sent to Aden. If that +fail I will kill myself also." + +"Stout fella," commented the Inspector in his own vernacular, and added, +musing aloud:-- + +"You'll come to the gallows through possessing pride, self-respect and +determination, my lad. You're behind the times--or rather you maintain a +spirit for which Civilization has no use. You must return to the Wilds +of the Earth or else you must be content to become good, grubby, and +grey, dull and dejected, sober and sorrowful, respectable and +unenterprising--like me; and you must cultivate fat, propriety, smugness +and the Dead Level.... What, you young Devil! You'd have self-respect +and pride, would you; be quick upon the point of honour, eh? revive the +duello, what? Get thee to a--er--less civilized and respectable age or +place ... in other words, Mr. Toshiwalla, bring the case before the +Committee of Visitors. I'll put up a note to the effect that he had +better be sent back to Aden. This is a Reformatory, and there's nothing +very reformatory about keeping him to plan murder and suicide because he +has been (quite unjustifiably) transported as well as flogged and +imprisoned. Yes, we'll consider the case. Meanwhile, keep a sharp eye on +him--and give him all the corn-grinding he can do. Sweat the Original +Sin out of him ... and see he does not secrete any kind of weapon." + +Accordingly was Moussa segregated, and to the base women's-work of +corn-grinding in the cook-house, wholly relegated. It was hard, +soul-breaking work, ignoble and degrading, but he drew two crumbs of +comfort from the bread of affliction. He was developing his arm-muscles +and he was literally watering the said bread of affliction with the +sweat of labour. As the heavy drops trickled from chin and nose into the +meal around the grindstone, it pleased Moussa Isa to reflect that his +enemy should eat of it. Since the shadow of Moussa was pollution to +these travesties of men and warriors, let them have a little concrete +pollution also. But in the cook-house, while arm and soul wearied +together, one heavy day of copper sky and brazen earth, first eye and +then foot, fell upon a piece of tin, the lid of some empty milk-tin or +like vessel. The prehensile toes gathered in the trove, the foot gently +rose and the fingers of the pendant left hand secured the disc, while +the body swayed with the strenuous circlings of the right hand chat +revolved the heavy upper millstone. + +That night, immediately after being locked in his cell, that there +might be the fullest time for bleeding to death, he slashed and slashed +while strength lasted at wrist and abdomen--but without succeeding in +penetrating the abdominal wall and reaching the viscera. + +This effected his transfer to the Reformatory hospital and underlined +the remark of the Inspector in the Visitors' Book to the effect that one +Moussa Isa would commit suicide or murder, if kept at Duri, and would +certainly not be "reformed" in any way. In hospital, Major Jackson of +the Royal Army Medical Corps, a Visitor of the Duri Jail, paying his +periodical visits, grew interested in the sturdy bright boy and soon +came to like him for his directness, cheery courage, and refreshing +views. When the boy was convalescent he took him on the surrounding Duri +golf-links as his caddie in his endless games with his poor friend +Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith, _ex_-gentleman. + +Moussa was grateful and, fingering the scar on his throat, likened Major +Jackson to his hero, the fair Sheikh who had saved him from the lion and +had lost his life through intervening on Moussa's behalf in the boat. +But _he_ was not mad like these English. He would not, with infinite +earnestness, seriousness and mingled joy at success and grief at +failure, have pursued a little white ball with a stick, mile after mile, +knocking it with infinite precautions, every now and then, into a little +hole, and taking it out again. + +No, _his_ idea of sport across country with an iron-shod stick would +rather have been lion-hunting with an assegai (yet, curiously enough, +one, Robin Ross-Ellison, lived to play more than one game of golf with +Major Jackson on these same Duri Links). To see this adult white man +behaving so, _coram publico_, made Moussa bitterly ashamed for him. + +And, as the sun set, Moussa Isa earned a sharp rebuke for inattentive +slacking, as he stood sighing his soul to where it sank in the West over +Aden and Somaliland.... Wait till his chance of escape arrived; he would +journey straight for the sunset, day after day, until he reached a +sea-shore. There he would steal a canoe and paddle and paddle straight +for the sunset, day after day, until he reached a sea-shore again. That +would be Africa or Arabia, and Moussa Isa would be where a Somal is +known from a _Hubshi_.... Should he make a bolt for it now? No, too +weak, and not fair to this kind Sahib who had healed him and sympathized +with him in the matter of the ignorance and impudence of those who +misnamed a son of the Somals.... In due course, the Committee of +Visitors met at the Reformatory one morning, and found on the agenda +paper _inter alia_ the case of Moussa Isa, a murderer from Aden, his +attempt at murder and suicide, and his prayer to be sent to Aden Jail. + +On the Committee were the Director of Public Instruction, the Collector, +the Executive Engineer, the Superintendent of Duri Jail, the Educational +Inspector, the Cantonment Magistrate, Major Jackson of the Royal Army +Medical Corps, and a number of Indian gentlemen. To the Chairman's +inquiries Moussa Isa made the usual replies. He had been mortally +affronted and had endeavoured to avenge the insult. He had tried to do +his duty to himself--and to his enemy. He had been put to base +women's-work as a punishment for defending his honour and he had tried +to take his life in despair. Was there _no_ justice in British lands? +What would the Sahib himself do if his honour were assailed? If one rose +up and insulted him and his race? Called him baboon, born of baboons, +for example? Or had the Sahib no honour? Why should he have been +transported when he was not sentenced to transportation? What had he +done but defend his honour and avenge insults? Unless he were now tried +for murder and suicide, and sentenced to hard labour in Aden Jail, he +would go on murdering until they did send him there. If they said, +"Well, you shan't go there, whatever you do," he would kill himself. If +he could get no sort of weapon he would starve himself (he did not in +his ignorance quote the gentle and joyous Pankhurst family) or hold his +breath. So they had better send him, and that was all he had got to say +about it. + +"Send him for trial before the City Magistrate and recommend that he go +to Aden Jail at once, before he hurts somebody else," said the native +members of the Committee. "Why should we be troubled with the +off-scourings of Aden?" + +"Certainly not," opined the Collector of Duri. A pretty state of affairs +if every criminal were to be allowed to select his own place of +punishment, and to terrorize any penitentiary that had the misfortune to +lack favour in his sight. Let the boy be well flogged for the assault +and attempted suicide, and then let him rejoin the ordinary gangs and +classes. It was the Superintendent's duty to watch his charges and keep +discipline in what was, after all, a school. + +"Sir, he is one violent and dangerous character and will assault the +peaceful and mild. Yea--he may even attack _me_," objected the babu. + +"Are we to understand that you admit your inability to maintain order in +this Reformatory?" inquired the Director of Public Instruction from the +Chair. + +Anything but that. They were to understand, on the contrary, that the +babu was respectfully a most unprecedented disciplinarian. + +"You don't expect cock angels in a Reformatory, y' know," said the +engineer, suddenly awaking to light a fat black cheroot. "Got to use +the--ah--strong hand;--on their--ah--_you_ know," and he resumed his +slumbers, puffing mechanically and unconsciously at his cheroot. + +So Moussa Isa was flogged and sent back to gardening, lessons and +drawing. + +Yes--the Somali was taught drawing. Not mere utilitarian drawing-to-scale +and making plans and elevations, but "freehand"-drawing, the reproducing +of meaningless twirly curves and twiddly twists from symmetrical +conventional "copies". He copied copies and drew lines--but never copied +things, nor drew things. In time he could, with infinite labour, produce +a copy of a flat "copy" that a really observant eye could identify with +the original, but had you asked him to draw his foot or the door of the +room, his desk, his watering-can or book, he would probably have +replied, "_They_ are not drawing-copies," and would have laughed at your +absurd joke. No, he was not taught to draw _things_, nor to give +expression to impression. + +And he had a special warder all to himself, who watched him as a cat +watches a mouse. However, warders cannot prevent looks and smiles, and +whenever Moussa Isa saw the Brahmin youth, he gave a peculiar look and a +meaning smile. It was borne in upon the clever young man that the Hubshi +looked at his neck, below his ear, when he smiled that dreadful smile. + +Sometimes a significant gesture accompanied the meaning smile. For +Moussa Isa had decided, upon the rejection of his prayer by the +Committee, to wait until he was a little older and bigger, more like a +proper criminal and less of a wretched little "juvenile offender," and +then to qualify, by murder, for the Aden Jail--with the unoffered help +of the Brahmin boy. + +Allah would vouchsafe opportunity, and when he did so, Moussa Isa, his +servant, would seize it. Doubtless it would come as soon as he was big +enough to receive the privileges of an adult and serious criminal. +Anyhow, the insult would be properly punished and the honour of the +Somal race avenged.... + +Came the day when certain of the sinful inhabitants of the Duri +Reformatory were to be conducted to a neighbouring Government High +School, a centre for the official Drawing Examinations for the district, +there to sit and be examined in the gentle art of Art. + +To this end they had been trained in the copying of lines and in the +painting of areas of conventional shape, not that they might be made to +observe natural form, express themselves in reproduction, render the +inner outer, originate, articulate ... but that they might pass an +examination in copying unnatural things in impossible colours. Thus it +came to pass that, in the big hall of this school, divers of the +Reformed found themselves copying, and colouring the copy of, a curious +picture pinned to a blackboard--the picture of a floral wonder unknown +to Botany, possessed of delicate mauve leaves, blue-veined, shaped some +like the oak-leaf and some like the ivy; of long slender blades like +those of the iris, but of tenderest pink; of beautiful and profusely +chromatic blossoms, reminding one now of the orchid, now of the +sunflower and anon of the forget-me-not; and likewise of clustering +fulgent fruit. + +And at the back of all these budding artists and blossoming jail-birds, +and in the same small desk sat the Brahmin youth and--Oh Merciful +Allah!--Moussa Isa, Somali. + +The native gentleman in charge of the party from the Duri Reformatory +had duly escorted his charges into the hall, handed them over to Mr. +Edward Jones, the Head of the High School, and been requested to wait +outside with similar custodians of parties. (Mr. Edward Jones had known +very strange things to happen in Examination Halls to which the friends +and supporters of candidates had access during the examination.) + +To Mr. Edward Jones the thus deserted Brahmin boy made frantic and +piteous appeal. + +"Oh, Sir," prayed he, "let me sit somewhere else and not beside this +African." + +"You'll stay where you are," replied Mr. Edward Jones, suspicious of the +appeal and the appellant. If the fat glib youth objected to the African +on principle, Mr. Edward Jones would be glad, metaphorically speaking, +to rub his Brahminical nose in it. If this were not his reason, it was, +doubtless, one even less creditable. Mr. Edward Jones had been in India +long enough to learn to look very carefully for the motive. + +Moussa Isa licked his chops once again, and, as Mr. Jones turned away, +the unhappy Brahmin cried in his anguish of soul:-- + +"Oh, Sir! Watch this African carefully." + +"All will be watched carefully," was the suspicious and cold reply. + +Moussa smiled broadly upon his erstwhile contemptuous and insulting +enemy, and began to consider the possibilities of a long and +well-pointed lead-pencil as a means of vengeance. Pencils were intended +for marking fair surfaces--might one not be used on this occasion for +the cleaning of a sullied surface, that of a besmirched honour? + +One insulter of the Somal race had died by the stab of a piece of broken +bottle. Might not another die by the stab of a lead-pencil? + +Doubtful. Very risky. The stabbing and piercing potentialities of a lead +pencil are not yet properly investigated, tabulated, established and +known. It would be a pity to do small damage and incur a heavy +corn-grinding punishment. He might never get another chance of +vengeance either, if he bungled this one. + +Well, there were three hours in which to decide ... and Moussa Isa +commenced to draw, pausing, from time to time, to smile meaningly at the +Brahmin, and to lick his chops suggestively. Anon he rested from his +highly uninteresting and valueless labours, laid his pencil on the desk, +and gazed around in search of inspiration in the matter of the best +method of dealing with his enemy. + +His eye fell upon a picture of a lion that ornamented the wall of the +hall; he stiffened like a pointer and fingered some scars on his right +arm. He had never seen a picture of a lion before and, for a fraction of +a second, he was shocked and alarmed--and then, while his body sat in an +Indian High School hall, his spirit flew to an East African desert, and +there sojourned awhile. + +Moussa Isa was again the slave of an ivory-poaching, hide-poaching, +specimen-poaching, slave-dealing gang of Arabs, Negroes, and Portuguese +half-castes, led by a white man of the Teutonic persuasion. He could +feel the smiting heat, see the scrub, jungle, and sand shimmering and +dancing in the heat haze. He could see the line of porters, bales on +heads, the Arabs on horseback, the white man in a litter swinging from a +long bamboo pole beneath which half a dozen Swahili loped along. He +could see the velvet star-gemmed night and the camp-fires, smell the +smoke and the savoury odours of the cooking, hear the sudden shrieks and +yells that followed the roar of the springing lion, feel the crushing +crunch of its great teeth in his arm as it seized him from beside the +nearest fire and stood over him.... Yes, that was the night when the +fair Sheikh from the North had showed the mettle of his pastures and +bound Moussa Isa to him for ever in the bonds of worshipping gratitude +and love. For, while others shrieked, yelled, fled, flung burning brands +and spears, or fired hasty, unaimed, ineffectual shots, the fair Sheikh +from the North had sprung at the lion as it stood over Moussa Isa and +driven his knife into its eye, and as it smote him to the earth, buried +its fangs in his shoulder and started to drag him away, had stabbed +upward between the ribs, giving it a second death-blow, transfixing its +heart. Thus it was he had earned the name by which he was known from +Zanzibar to Berbera, "He-who-slays-lions-with-the-knife," had earned the +envy and hatred of the fat white man and the Arabs, the boundless +admiration of the Swahili askaris, hunters and porters, and the deep +dog-like affection of Moussa Isa.... + +And then Moussa's spirit returned to his body and he saw but the picture +of a lion on a High School wall. He commenced to draw again and suddenly +had an inspiration. Deliberately he broke the point of his pencil and, +rising, marched up to the dais, whereon, at a table, sat Mr. Edward +Jones. + +Mr. Edward Jones had been shot with bewildering suddenness from +Cambridge quadrangles into the Indian Educational Service. Of India he +knew nothing, of education he knew less, but boldly took it upon him to +combine the two unknowns for the earning of his living. If wise and +beneficent men offered him a modest wage for becoming a professor and +exponent of that which he did not know, he had no objection to accepting +it; but there were people who wondered why it should be that, out of +forty million English people, Mr. Edward Jones should be the chosen one +to represent England to the youth of Duri, and asked whether there were +no keen, strictly conscientious, sporting, strong Englishmen available; +no enthusiastic educational experts left in all the British Isles, that +Mr. Edward Jones of all people had come to Duri? + +"What do you want?" he asked (how he hated these poverty-stricken, +smelly, ignoble creatures. Why was he not a master at Eton, instead of +at Duri High School. Why wouldn't somebody give him a handsome income +for looking handsome and standing around beautifully--like these +aide-de-camp Johnnies and "staff" people. Since there was nothing on +earth he could do well, he ought to have been provided with a job in +which he could look well). + +"May I borrow the Sahib's knife?" asked Moussa Isa, "I have broken my +pencil and cannot draw." Mr. Edward Jones picked up the penknife that +lay on his desk, the cheap article of restricted utility supplied to +Government Offices by the Stationery Department, and handed it to Moussa +Isa. Even as he took it with respectful salaam, Moussa Isa summed up its +possibilities. Blade two inches long, sharp-pointed, handle six inches +long, wooden; not a clasp knife, blade immovable in handle. It would +do--and he turned to go to his seat and presumably to sharpen his +pencil. + +Idly watching the boy and thinking of other things, Jones saw him try +the point of the knife on his thumb, walk up behind the other occupant +of his desk, his Brahmin neighbour, seize that neighbour by the hair, +push his head sharp over on to the shoulder, and plunge the knife into +his neck; seat himself, and commence to draw with the unfortunate +Brahmin's pencil. + +Jones sprang to his feet and rushed to the spot, to find that he had not +been dreaming. No--on the back seat drooped a boy bleeding like a stuck +pig and another industriously drawing, his face illuminated by a smile +of contentment. + +Jones pressed his thumbs into the neck of the sufferer, as he called to +an assistant-supervisor to run to the hospital for Dr. Almeida, hoping +to be able to close the severed jugular from which welled an appalling +stream of blood. + +"It is quite useless, Sahib," observed Moussa, "nor can a doctor help. +When one has got it _there_, he may give his spear to his son and turn +his face to the wall. That dog will never say '_Hubshi_' to a Somal +again." + +"Catch hold of that boy," said Mr. Edward Jones to another +assistant-supervisor who clucked around like a perturbed hen. + +"Fear not, Sahib, I shall not escape. I go to Aden Jail," said Moussa +cheerfully--but he pondered the advisability of attempting escape from +the Reformatory should he be sentenced to be hanged. It had always +seemed an impossibility, but it would be better to attempt the +impossible than to await the rope. But doubtless they would say he was +too small and light to hang satisfactorily, and would send him to Aden. +Thanks, Master Brahmin, realize as you die that you have greatly obliged +your slayer.... + + * * * * * + +"Now you will most certainly be hanged to death by rope and I shall be +rid of troublesome fellow," said the Superintendent to Moussa Isa when +that murderous villain was temporarily handed over to him by the +police-sepoy to whom he had been committed by Mr. Jones. + +"I have avenged my people and myself," replied Moussa Isa, "even as I +said, I go to Aden Jail--where there are _men_, and where a Somal is +known from a Hubshi" + +"You go to hang--across the road there at Duri Gaol," replied the babu, +and earnestly hoped to find himself a true prophet. But though the wish +was father to the thought, the expression thereof was but the wicked +uncle, for it led to the undoing of the wish. So convinced and +convincing did the babu appear to Moussa Isa, that the latter decided to +try his luck in the matter of unauthorized departure from the +Reformatory precincts. If they were going to hang him (for defending and +purging his private and racial honour), and not send him to Aden after +all, he might as well endeavour to go there at his own expense and +independently. If he were caught they could not do more than hang him; +if he were not caught he would get out of this dark ignorant land, if he +had to walk for a year.... + +When he came to devote his mind to the matter of escape, Moussa Isa +found it surprisingly easy. A sudden dash from his cell as the door was +incautiously opened that evening, a bound and scramble into a tree, a +leap to an out-house roof, another scramble, and a drop which would +settle the matter. If something broke he was done, if nothing broke he +was within a few yards of six-foot-high crops which extended to the +confines of the jungle, wherein were neither police, telegraph offices, +railways, roads, nor other apparatus of the enemy. Nothing broke--Duri +Reformatory saw Moussa Isa no more. For a week he travelled only by +night, and thereafter boldly by day, getting lifts in _bylegharies_,[45] +doing odd jobs, living as the crows and jackals live when jobs were +unavailable, receiving many a kindness from other wayfarers, especially +those of the poorer sort, but always faring onward to the West, ever +onward to the setting sun, always to the sea and Africa, until the +wonderful and blessed day when he believed for a moment that he was mad +and that his eyes and brain were playing him tricks.... After months and +months of weary travel, always toward the setting sun, he had arrived +one terrible evening of June at a wide river and a marvellous bridge--a +great bridge hung by mighty chains upon mightier posts which stood up on +either distant bank. It was a _pukka_ road, a Grand Trunk Road suspended +in the air across a river well-nigh great as Father Nile himself. + + [45] Bullock carts. + +On the banks of this river stood an ancient walled city of tall houses +separated by narrow streets, a city of smells and filth, wherein there +were no Sahibs, few Hindus and many Mussulmans. In a mud-floored +miserable _mussafarkhana_,[46] without its gates, Moussa Isa slept, +naked, hungry and very sad--for he somehow seemed to have missed the +sea. Surely if one kept on due westward always to the setting sun, one +reached the sea in time? The time was growing long, however, and he was +among a strange people, few of whom understood the Hindustani he had +learnt at Duri. Luckily they were largely Mussulmans. Should he abandon +the setting sun and take to the river, following it until it reached the +sea? He could take ship then for Africa by creeping aboard in the +darkness, and hiding himself until the ship had started.... There might +be no city at the mouth of the river when he got there. It might never +reach the sea. It might just vanish into some desert like the +Webi-Shebeyli in Somaliland. No, he would keep on toward the West, +crossing the great bridge in the morning. He did so, and turned aside +to admire the railway-station of the Cantonment on the other side of the +river, to get a drink, and to see a train come in, if happily such might +occur. + + [46] Poor travellers' rest-house. + +Ere he had finished rinsing his mouth and bathing his feet at the public +water-standard on the platform, the whistle of a distant train charmed +his ears and he sat him down, delighted, to enjoy the sights and sounds, +the stir and bustle, of its arrival and departure. And so it came about +that certain passengers by this North West Frontier train were not a +little intrigued to notice a small and very black boy suddenly arise +from beside the drinking-fountain and, with a strange hoarse scream, +fling himself at the feet of a young Englishman (who in Norfolk jacket +and white flannel trousers strolled up and down outside the first-class +carriage in which he was travelling to Kot Ghazi from Karachi), and with +every sign of the wildest excitement and joy embrace and kiss his +boots.... + +Moussa Isa was convinced that he had gone mad and that his eyes and +brain were playing him tricks. + +Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison (also Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan when in other dress and other places) was likewise more than +a little surprised--and certainly a little moved, at the sight of Moussa +Isa and his wild demonstrations of uncontrollable joy. + +"Well, I'm damned!" said he in the _rôle_ of Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison. "Rum little devil. Fancy your turning up here." And in the +_rôle_ of Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan added in +debased Arabic: "Take this money, little dog, and buy thee a _tikkut_ +to Kot Ghazi. Get into this train, and at Kot Ghazi follow me to a +house." + +To the house Moussa Isa followed him and to the end of his life +likewise, visiting _en route_ Mekran Kot, among other places, and +encountering one, Ilderim the Weeper, among other people (as was told to +Major Michael Malet-Marsac by Ross-Ellison's half-brother, the +Subedar-Major.) + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE WOMAN. + +(And Augustus Grabble; General Murger; Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith; +Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr. Horace Faggit; as well as a +reformed JOHN ROBIN ROSS-ELLISON.) + + + +§ 1. MR. GROBBLE. + + +There was something very maidenly about the appearance of Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble. One could not imagine him doing +anything unfashionable, perspiry, rough or rude; nor could one possibly +imagine him doing anything ruthless, fine, terrible, strong or +difficult. + +One expected his hose to be of the same tint as his shirt and +handkerchief, his dress-trousers to be braided, his tie to be delicate +and beautiful, his dainty shoes to be laced with black silk ribbon,--but +one would never expect him to go tiger-shooting, to ride a gay and giddy +young horse, to box, or to do his own cooking and washing in the desert +or jungle. + +Augustus had been at College during that bright brief period of the +attempted apotheosis of the dirty-minded little Decadent whose stock in +trade was a few Aubrey Beardsley drawings, a widow's-cruse-like bottle +of Green Chartreuse, an Oscar Wilde book, some dubious blue china, some +floppy ties, an assortment of second-hand epigrams, scent and scented +tobacco, a _nil admirari_ attitude and long weird hair. + +Augustus had become a Decadent--a silly harmless +conventionally-unconventional Decadent. But, as Carey, a contemporary +Rugger blood, coarsely remarked, he hadn't the innards to go far wrong. + +It was part of his cheap and childish ritual as a Decadent to draw the +curtains after breakfast, light candles, place the flask of Green +Chartreuse and a liqueur-glass on the table, drop one drip of the liquid +into the glass, burn a stinking pastille of incense, place a Birmingham +"god" or an opening lily before him, ruffle his hair, and sprawl on the +sofa with a wicked French novel he could not read--hoping for visitors +and an audience. + +If any fellow dropped in and, very naturally, exclaimed, "What the devil +_are_ you doing?" he would reply:-- + +"Wha'? Oh, sunligh'? Very vulgar thing sunligh'. Art is always superior +to Nature. You love the garish day being a gross Philistine, wha'? Now I +only live at night. Glorious wicked nigh'. So I make my own nigh'. Wha'? +Have some Green Chartreuse--only drink fit for a Hedonist. I drink its +colour and I taste its glorious greenness. Ichor and Nectar of Helicon +and the Pierian Spring. I loved a Wooman once, with eyes of just that +glowing glorious green and a soul of ruby red. I called her my +Emerald-eyed, Ruby-souled Devil, and we drank together deep draughts of +the red red Wine of Life----" + +Sometimes the visitor would say: "Look here, Grobb, you ought to be in +the Zoo, you know. There's a lot there like you, all in one big cage," +or similar words of disapproval. + +Sometimes a young fresher would be impressed, especially if he had been +brought up by Aunts in a Vicarage, and would also become a Decadent. + +During vac. the Decadents would sometimes meet in Town, and See Life--a +singularly uninteresting and unattractive side of Life (much more like +Death), and the better men among them--better because of a little +sincerity and pluck--would achieve a petty and rather sordid "adventure" +perhaps. + +Augustus had no head for Mathematics and no gift for Languages, while +his Classics had always been a trifle more than shaky. History bored +him--so he read Moral Philosophy. + +There is a somewhat dull market for second-hand and third-class Moral +Philosophy in England, so Augustus took his to India. In the first +college that he adorned his classes rapidly dwindled to nothing, and the +College Board dispensed with the services of Augustus, who passed on to +another College in another Province, leaving behind him an odour of +moral dirtiness, debt, and decadence. Quite genuine decadence this time, +with nothing picturesque about it, involving doctors' bills, alimony, +and other the fine crops of wild-oat sowing. + +At Gungapur he determined to "settle down," to "turn over a new leaf," +and laid a good space of paving-stone upon his road to reward. + +He gave up the morning nip, docked the number of cocktails, went to bed +before two, took a little gentle exercise, met Mrs. Pat Dearman--and +(like Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison, General Miltiades Murger and many another) +succumbed at once. + +Mrs. Pat Dearman had come to India (as Miss Cleopatra Diamond Brighte) +to see her brother, Dickie Honor Brighte, at Gungapur, and much +interested to see, also, a Mr. Dearman whom, in his letters to her, +Dickie had described as "a jolly old buster, simply full of money, and +fairly spoiling for a wife to help him blew it in." She had not only +seen him but had, as she wrote to acidulous Auntie Priscilla at the +Vicarage, "actually married him after a week's acquaintance--fancy!--the +last thing in the world she had ever supposed ... etc." (Auntie +Priscilla had smiled in her peculiarly unpleasant way as the artless +letter enlarged upon the strangeness of her ingenuous niece's marrying +the rich man about whom her innocent-minded brother had written so +much.) + +Having thoroughly enjoyed a most expensive and lavish honeymoon, Mrs. +Pat Dearman had settled down to make her good husband happy, to have a +good time and to do any amount of Good to other people--especially to +young men--who have so many temptations, are so thoughtless, and who +easily become the prey of such dreadful people and such dreadful habits. + +Now it is to be borne in mind that Mrs. Dearman's Good Time was marred +to some extent by her unreasoning dislike of all Indians, a dislike +which grew into a loathing hatred, born and bred of her ignorance of the +language, customs, beliefs and ideals of the people among whom she +lived, and from whom her husband's great wealth sprang. + +To Augustus--fresh from very gilded gold, painted lilies and highly +perfumed violets--she seemed a vision of delight, a blessed damozel, a +living Salvation. + +_"Incedit dea aperta,"_ he murmured to himself, and wondered whether he +had got the quotation right. Being a weak young gentleman, he +straightway yearned to lead a Beautiful Life so as to be worthy to live +in the same world with her, and did it--for a little while. He became a +teetotaller, he went to bed at ten and rose at five--going forth into +the innocent pure morning and hugging his new Goodness to his soul as he +composed odes and sonnets to Mrs. Pat Dearman. So far so excellent--but +in Augustus was no depth of earth, and speedily he withered away. And +his reformation was a house built upon sand, for, even at its pinnacle, +it was compatible with the practising of sweet and pure expressions +before the glass, the giving of much time to the discovery of the really +most successful location of the parting in his long hair, the +intentional entangling of his fingers with those of the plump and pretty +young lady (very brunette) in Rightaway & Mademore's, what time she +handed him "ties to match his eyes," as he requested. + +It was really only a change of pose. The attitude now was: "I, young as +you behold me, am old and weary of sin. I have Passed through the Fires. +Give me beauty and give me peace. I have done with the World and its +Dead Sea Fruit. There is no God but Beauty, and Woman is its Prophet." +And he improved in appearance, grew thinner, shook off a veritable Old +Man of the Sea in the shape of a persistent pimple which went ill with +the Higher Aestheticism, and achieved great things in delicate socks, +sweet shirts, dream ties, a thumb ring and really pretty shoes. + +In the presence of Mrs. Pat Dearman he looked sad, smouldering, +despairing and Fighting-against-his-Lower-Self, when not looking +Young-but-Hopelessly-Depraved-though-Yearning-for-Better-Things. And he +flung out quick epigrams, sighed heavily, talked brilliantly and wildly, +and then suppressed a groan. Sometimes the pose of, "Dear Lady, I could +kiss the hem of your garment for taking an interest in me and my +past--but it is too lurid for me to speak of it, or for you to +understand it if I did," would appear for a moment, and sometimes that +of, "Oh, help me--or my soul must drown. Ah, leave me not. If I have +sinned I have suffered, and in your hands lie my Heaven and my Hell." +Such shocking words were never uttered of course--but there are few +things more real than an atmosphere, and Augustus Clarence could always +get his atmosphere all right. + +And Mrs. Pat Dearman (who had come almost straight from a vicarage, a +vicar papa and a vicarish aunt, to an elderly, uxorious husband and +untrammelled freedom, and knew as much of the World as a little bunny +rabbit whom its mother has not brought yet out into the warren for its +first season), was mightily intrigued. + +She felt motherly to the poor boy at first, being only two years his +junior; then sisterly; and, later, very friendly indeed. + +Let it be clearly understood that Mrs. Pat Dearman was a thoroughly +good, pure-minded woman, incapable of deceiving her husband, and both +innocent and ignorant to a remarkable degree. She was the product of an +unnatural, specialized atmosphere of moral supermanity, the secluded +life, and the careful suppression of healthy, natural instincts. In +justice to Augustus Clarence also it must be stated that the impulse to +decency, though transient, was genuine as far as it went, and that he +would as soon have thought of cutting his long beautiful hair as of +thinking evil in connection with Mrs. Pat Dearman. + +Yes, Mrs. Pat Dearman was mightily intrigued--and quickly came to the +conclusion that it was her plain and bounden duty to "save" the poor, +dear boy--though from _what_ she was not quite clear. He was evidently +unhappy and obviously striving-to-be-Good--and he had such beautiful +eyes, dressed so tastefully, and looked at one with such a respectful +devotion and regard, that, really--well, it added a tremendous savour to +life. Also he should be protected from the horrid flirting Mrs. Bickker +who simply lived to collect scalps. + +And so the friendship grew and ripened--quickly as is possible only in +India. The evil-minded talked evil and saw harm where none existed, +proclaiming themselves for what they were, and injuring none but +themselves. (Sad to say, these were women, with one or two exceptions in +favour of men--like the Hatter--who perhaps might be called "old women +of the male sex," save that the expression is a vile libel upon the sex +that still contains the best of us.) Decent people expressed the belief +that it would do Augustus a lot of good--much-needed good; and the +crystallized male opinion was that the poisonous little beast was +uncommon lucky, but Mrs. Pat Dearman would find him out sooner or later. + +As for Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman, that lovable simple soul was grateful +to Augustus for existing--as long as his existence gave Mrs. Dearman any +pleasure. If the redemption of Augustus interested her, let Augustus be +redeemed. He believed that the world neither held, nor had held, his +wife's equal in character and nobility of mind. He worshipped an image +of his own creation in the shape of Cleopatra Dearman, and the image he +had conceived was a credit to the single-minded, simple-hearted +gentleman. + +Naturally he did not admire Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble +(learned in millinery; competent, as modes varied, to discuss harem, +hobble, pannier, directoire, slit, or lamp-shade skirts, berthes, +butterfly-_motif_ embroideries, rucked ninon sleeves, chiffon tunics, +and similar mysteries of the latest fashion-plates, with a lady +undecided). + +Long-haired men put Dearman off, and he could not connect the virile +virtues with large bows, velvet coats, scent, manicure, mannerisms and +meandering. + +But if Augustus gave his wife any pleasure--why Augustus had not lived +wholly in vain. His attitude to Augustus was much that of his attitude +to his wife's chocolates, fondants, and crystallized violets--"Not +absolutely nourishing and beneficial for you, Dearest;--but harmless, +and I'll bring you a ton with pleasure". + +Personally he'd as soon go about with his wife's fat French poodle as +with Augustus, but so long as either amused her--let the queer things +flourish. + +Among the nasty-minded old women who "talked" was the Mad Hatter. + +"Shameful thing the way that Dearman woman throws dust in her husband's +eyes!" said he, while sipping his third Elsie May at the club bar. "He +should divorce her. I would, to-morrow, if I were burdened with her." + +A knee took him in the small of the back with unnecessary violence and +he spun round to demand instant apology from the clumsy.... + +He found himself face to face with one John Robin Ross-Ellison newly +come to Gungapur, a gentleman of independent means but supposed to be +connected with the Political Department or the Secret Service or +something, who stared him in the eyes without speaking while he poised a +long drink as though wondering whether it were worth while wasting good +liquor on the face of such a thing as the Hatter. + +"You'll come with me and clear the dust from Dearman's eyes at once," +said he at last. "Made your will all right?" + +The Hatter publicly apologised, then and there, and explained that he +had, for once in his life, taken a third drink and didn't know what he +was saying. + +"If your third drink brings out the real man, I should recommend you to +stick to two, Bonnett," said the young man, and went away to cogitate. + +Should he speak to Dearman? No. He didn't want to see so good a chap +hanged for a thing like the Bonnett. Should he go and slap Augustus +Grobble hard and make him leave the station somehow? No. Sure to be a +scandal. You can no more stop a scandal than a locust-cloud or a fog. +The best way to increase it is to notice it. What a horrid thing is a +scandal-monger--exhaling poison. It publishes the fact that it is +poisonous, of course--but the gas is not enjoyable. + +Well, God help anybody Dearman might happen to hear on the subject! +Happily Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman heard nothing, for he was a quiet, +slow, jolly, red-haired man, and the wrath of a slow, quiet, red-haired +man, once roused, is apt to be a rather dangerous thing. Also Mr. +Dearman was singularly elephantine in the blundering crushing directness +of his methods, and his idea of enough might well seem more than a feast +to some. + +And Mr. Dearman suffered Augustus gladly, usually finding him present at +tea, frequently at dinner, and invariably in attendance at dances and +functions. + +Augustus was happy and Good--for Augustus. He dallied, he adored, he +basked. For a time he felt how much better, finer, more enjoyable, more +beautiful, was this life of innocent communion with a pure soul--pure, +if just a little insipid, after the real spankers he had hitherto +affected. + +He was being saved from himself, reformed, helped, and all the rest of +it. And when privileged to bring her pen, her fan, her book, her +cushion, he always kissed the object with an appearance of wishing to be +unseen in the act. It was a splendid change from the Lurid Life and the +mean adventure. Piquant. + +Unstable as water he could not excel nor endure, however, even in +dalliance; nor persevere even when adopted as the _fidus Achates_ of a +good and beautiful woman--the poor little weather-cock. He was +essentially weak, and weakness is worse than wickedness. There is hope +for the strong bad man. He may become a strong good one. Your weak man +can never be that. + +There came a lady to the Great Eastern Hotel where Augustus lived. Her +husband's name, curiously enough, was Harris, and wags referred to him +as _the_ Mr. Harris, because he had never been seen--and like Betsey +Prig, they "didn't believe there was no sich person". And beyond doubt +she was a spanker. + +Augustus would sit and eye her at meals--and his face would grow a +little less attractive. He would think of her while he took tea with +Mrs. and Mr. Dearman, assuring himself that she was certainly a stepper, +a stunner, and, very probably,--thrilling thought--a wrong 'un. + +Without the very slightest difficulty he obtained an introduction and, +shortly afterwards, decided that he was a man of the world, a Decadent, +a wise Hedonist who took the sweets of every day and hoped for more +to-morrow. + +Who but a fool or a silly greenhorn lets slip the chances of enjoyment, +and loses opportunities of experiences? There was nothing in the world, +they said, to compare with War and Love. Those who wanted it were +welcome to the fighting part, he would be content with the loving rôle. +He would be a Dog and go on breaking hearts and collecting trophies. +What a milk-and-water young ass he had been, hanging about round good, +silly, little Mrs. Dearman, denying himself champagne at dinner-parties, +earning opprobrium as a teetotaller, going to bed early like a +bread-and-butter flapper, and generally losing all the joys of Life! +Been behaving like a _backfisch_. He read his Swinburne again, and +unearthed from the bottom of a trunk some books that dealt with the +decadent's joys,--poets of the Flesh, and prosers of the Devil, in his +many weary forms. + +Also he redoubled his protestations (of undying, hopeless, respectful +devotion and regard) to Mrs. Dearman, until she, being a woman, +therefore suspected something and became uneasy. + +One afternoon he failed to put in an appearance at tea-time, though +expected. He wrote that he had had a headache. Perhaps it was true, but, +if so, it had been borne in the boudoir of the fair spanker whose +husband may or may not have been named Harris. + +As his absences from the society of Mrs. Dearman increased in frequency, +his protestations of undying gratitude and regard for her increased in +fervour. + +Mrs. Dearman grew more uneasy and a little unhappy. + +Could she be losing her influence for Good over the poor weak boy? Could +it be--horrible thought--that he was falling into the hands of some +nasty woman who would flirt with him, let him smoke too many cigarettes, +drink cocktails, and sit up late? Was he going to relapse and slip back +into that state of wickedness of some kind, that she vaguely understood +him to have been guilty of in the unhappy past when he had possessed no +guardian angel to keep his life pure, happy and sweet, as he now +declared it to be? + +"Where's your young friend got to lately?" inquired her husband one day. + +"I don't know, John," she replied, "he's always missing appointments +nowadays," and there was a pathetic droop about the childish mouth. + +"Haven't quarrelled with him, or anything, have you, Pat?" + +"No, John dear. It would break his heart if I were unkind to him--or it +would have used to. I mean it used to have would. Oh, you know what I +mean. Once it would have. No, I have not been unkind to him--it's rather +the other way about, I think!" + +_Rather the other way about_! The little affected pimp unkind to Mrs. +Dearman! Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman made no remark--aloud. + +Augustus came to tea next day and his hostess made much of him. His host +eyed him queerly. Very. + +Augustus felt uncomfortable. Good Heavens! Was Dearman jealous? The man +was not going to cut up jealous at this time of day, surely! Not after +giving him the run of the house for months, and allowing him to take his +wife everywhere--nay, encouraging him in every way. Absurd idea! + +Beastly disturbing idea though--Dearman jealous, and on your track! A +rather direct and uncompromising person, red-haired too. But the man was +absolutely fair and just, and he'd never do such a thing as to let a +fellow be his wife's great pal, treat him as one of the family for ages, +and then suddenly round on him as though he were up to something. No. +Especially when he was, if anything, cooling off a bit. + +"He was always most cordial--such a kind chap,--when I was living in his +wife's pocket almost," reflected Augustus, "and he wouldn't go and turn +jealous just when the thing was slacking off a bit." + +But there was no doubt that Dearman was eyeing him queerly.... + +"Shall we go on the river to-morrow night, Gussie?" said Mrs. Dearman, +"or have a round of golf, or what?" + +"Let's see how we feel to-morrow," replied Augustus, who had other +schemes in view. "Sufficient unto the day is the joy thereof," and he +escorted Mrs. Dearman to the Gymkhana, found her some nice, ladies' +pictorials, said, "I'll be back in a minute or two,"--and went in search +of Mrs. "Harris". + +"Well," said that lady, "been a good little boy and eaten your bread and +butter nicely? Have a Lyddite cocktail to take the taste away. So will +I." ... + +"Don't forget to book the big punt," said the Siren an hour or so later. +"I'll be ready for you about five." + +Augustus wrote one of his charming little notes on his charming little +note-paper that evening. + +"KIND AND GRACIOUS LADYE, + +"Pity me. Pity and love me. To-morrow the sun will not shine for your +slave, for he will not see it. I am unable to come over in the evening. +I stand 'twixt love and duty, and know you would counsel duty. Would the +College and all its works were beneath the ocean wave! Think of me just +once and I shall survive till the day after. Oh, that I could think your +disappointment were but one thousandth part of mine. I live but for +Thursday. + +"Ever your most devoted loving slave, + +"GUSSIE." + +Mrs. Dearman wept one small tear, for she had doubted his manner when he +had evaded making the appointment, and was suspicious. Mr. Dearman +entered and noted the one small tear ere it trickled off her dainty +little nose. + +She showed him the note. + +Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman thought much. What he said was "Hm!" + +"I suppose he has got to invigilate at some horrid examination or +something," she said, but she did not really suppose anything of the +kind. Even to her husband she could not admit the growing dreadful fear +that the brand she had plucked from the burning was slipping from her +hand--falling back into the flames. + +At a dinner-party that night a woman whom she hated, and wrote down an +evil-minded scandal-monger and inventor and disseminator of lies, +suddenly said to her, "Who _is_ this Mrs. Harris, my dear?" + +"How should I know?" replied Mrs. Dearman. + +"Oh, I thought your young friend Mr. Grobble might have told you--he +seems to know her very well," answered the woman sweetly. + +That night Mr. Dearman heard his wife sobbing in bed. Going to her he +asked what was the matter, and produced eau-de-Cologne, phenacetin, +smelling-salts and sympathy. + +She said that nothing at all was the matter and he went away and +pondered. Next day he asked her if he could row her on the river as he +wanted some exercise, and Augustus was not available to take her for a +drive or anything. + +"I should love it, John dear," she said. "You row like an ox," and John, +who had been reckoned an uncommon useful stroke, felt that a compliment +was intended if not quite materialized. + +Mrs. Pat Dearman enjoyed the upstream trip, and, watching her husband +drive the heavy boat against wind and current with graceful ease, +contrasted him with the puny, if charming, Augustus--to the latter's +detriment. He was so safe, so sound, so strong, reliable and true. But +then he never needed any protection, care and help. It was impossible to +"mother" John. He loved her devotedly and beautifully but one couldn't +pretend he leaned on her for moral help. Now Augustus did need her or he +had done so--and she did so love to be needed. _Had_ done so? No--she +would put the thought away. He needed her as much as ever and loved her +as devotedly and honourably.... The boat was turned back at the weir +and, half an hour later, reached the Club wharf. + +"I want to go straight home without changing, Pat; do you mind? I'll +drop you at the Gymkhana if you don't want to get home so early," said +Dearman, as he helped his wife out. + +"Won't you change and have a drink first, John?" she replied. "You must +be thirsty." + +"No. I want to go along now, if you don't mind." + +He did want to--badly. For, rowing up, he had seen something which his +wife, facing the other way, could not see. + +Under an over-hanging bush was a punt, and in the punt were Augustus and +the lady known as Mrs. Harris. + +The bush met the bank at the side toward his wife, but at the other +side, facing Dearman, there was an open space and so he had seen and she +had not. Returning, he had drawn her attention to something on the +opposite bank. This had been unnecessary, however, as Augustus had +effected a change of venue without delay. And now he did not want his +wife to witness the return of the couple and learn of the duplicity of +her snatched Brand. + +(He'd "brand" him anon!) + + * * * * * + +Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble sat in the long cane chair in +his sitting-room, a glass beside him, a cigarette between his lips, a +fleshly poet in his hand, and a reminiscent smile upon his flushed face. + +She undoubtedly was a spanker. Knew precisely how many beans make five. +A woman of the world, that. Been about. Knew things. Sort of woman one +could tell a good story to--and get one back. Life! Life! Knew it up and +down, in and out. Damn reformation, teetotality, the earnest, and the +strenuous. Good women were unmitigated bores, and he.... A sharp knock +at the door. + +"_Kon hai_?"[47] he called. "_Under ao_."[48] + + [47] Who's there. + [48] Come in. + +The door opened and large Mr. Dearman walked in. He bore a nasty-looking +malacca cane in his hand--somewhat ostentatiously. + +"Hullo, Dearman!" said Augustus after a decidedly startled and anxious +look. "What is it? Sit down. I'm just back from College. Have a drink?" + +Large Mr. Dearman considered these things _seriatim_. + +"I will sit down as I want a talk with you. You are a liar in the matter +of just being back from College. I will not have a drink." He then +lapsed into silence and looked at Augustus very straight and very +queerly, while bending the nasty malacca suggestively. The knees of +Augustus smote together. + +Good God! It had come at last! The thrashing he had so often earned was +at hand. What should he do? What _should_ he do! + +Dearman thought the young man was about to faint. + +"Fine malacca that, isn't it?" he asked. + +"Ye-yes!" + +"Swishy, supple, tough." + +"Ye-yes!" (How could the brute be such a fool as to be jealous now--now +when it was all cooling off and coming to an end?) + +"Grand stick to thrash a naughty boy with, what?" + +"Ye-yes!--Dearman, I swear before God that there is nothing between me +and----" + +"Shut up, you infernal God-forsaken cub, or I shall have to whip you. +I----" + +"Dearman, if you are jealous of me----" + +"Better be quiet and listen, or _I_ shall get cross, and _you'll_ get +hurt.... You have given us the pleasure of a great deal of your company +this year, and I have come to ask you----" + +"Dearman, I have not been so much lately, and I--" + +"That's what I complain of, my young friend." + +"What?" + +"That's what I complain of! I have come to protest against your making +yourself almost necessary to me, in a sense, and then--er--deserting me, +in a sense." + +"You are mocking me, Dearman. If you wish to take advantage of my being +half your size and strength to assault me, you----" + +"Not a bit of it, my dear Augustus. I am in most deadly earnest, as +you'll find if you are contumacious when I make my little proposition. +What I say is this. _I_ have grown to take an interest in you, Augustus. +_I_ have been very kind to you and tried to make a better man of you. +_I_ have been a sort of mother to you, and you have sworn devotion and +gratitude to me. _I_ have reformed you somewhat, and you have admitted +to me that I have made another man of you, Augustus, and that you love +me for it, you love _me_ with a deep Platonic love, my Augustus, +and--don't you forget it." + +"I admit that your wife----" + +"Don't you mention my wife, Augustus, or you and I and that malacca will +have a period of great activity. I was saying that _I_ am disappointed +in you, Augustus, and truly grieved to find you so shallow and false. I +asked you to take me on the river to-night and you lied to me and took a +very different type of--er--person. Such meanness and ingratitude fairly +get me, Augustus. Now I never _asked_ you to run after me and come and +swear I had saved your dirty little soul alive, but since you did it, +Augustus, and _I_ have come to take a deep interest in saving the +thing--why, you've got to stick it, Augustus--and if you don't--why, +then I'll make you, my dear." + +"Dearman, your wife has been the noblest friend----" + +"_Will_ you come off it, Augustus? I don't want to be cruel. Now look +here. _I_ have got accustomed to having you about the house and +employing you in those funny little ways in which you are a useful +little animal. I am under no delusion as to the value of that Soul of +yours--but, such as it is, _I_ am determined to save it. So just you +bring it round to tea to-morrow, as usual; and don't you ever be absent +again without my permission. You began the game and I'll end it--when I +think fit. Grand malacca that." + +"Dearman, I will always----" + +"'Course you will. See you at tea to-morrow, Gussie. If ever my wife +hears of this I'll kill you painfully. Bye-Bye." + +Augustus was present at tea next day, and, thenceforth, so regular was +he that Mrs. Dearman found, first, that she had been very foolish in +thinking that her Brand was slipping back into the fire and, later, that +Gussie was a bore and a nuisance. + +One day he said in the presence of John:-- + +"I can't keep that golf engagement on Saturday, dear lady, I have to +attend a meeting of the Professors, Principal and College Board". + +"Have you seen my malacca cane, Pat," said Dearman. "I want it." + +"But I really have!" said Augustus, springing up. + +"Of course you have," replied Dearman. "What _do_ you mean?" + + * * * * * + +"John dear," remarked Mrs. Dearman one day, "I wish you could give +Gussie a hint not to come quite so often. I have given him some very +broad ones during the last few months, but he won't take them. He would +from you, I expect." + +"Tired of the little bounder, Pat?" + +"Oh, sick and tired. He bores me to tears. I wish he were in Government +Service and could be transferred. A Government man's always transferred +as soon as he has settled to his job. I can't forbid him the house, very +well, but I _wish_ he'd realize how weary I am of his poses and new +socks." + + * * * * * + +Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble sat in the long cane chair in +his sitting-room, a look of rebellious discontent upon his face. What +could he do? Better chuck his job and clear out! The strain was getting +awful. What a relentless, watchful brute Dearman was! To him entered +that gentleman after gently tapping at the chamber door. + +"Gussie," said he, "I have come to say that I think you weary me. I +don't want you to come and play with me any more. _But_ be a nice good +boy and do me credit. I have brought you this malacca as a present and a +memento. I have another, Gussie, and am going to watch you, so be a real +credit to me." + +And Gussie was. + +So once again a good woman redeemed a bad man--but a trifle indirectly +perhaps. + +Then came General Miltiades Murger and Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison to be +saved. + +During intervals in the salvation process, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison +vainly endeavoured to induce Mr. Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke +Grobble to lend his countenance, as well as the rest of his person, to +the European Company of the Gungapur Fusilier Volunteer Corps which it +was the earnest ambition of Ross-Ellison to raise and train and +consolidate into a real and genuine defence organization, with a +maxim-gun, a motor-cycle and car section, and a mounted troop, and with, +above all, a living and sturdy _esprit-de-corps_. Such a Company +appeared to him to be the one and only hope of regeneration for the +ludicrous corps which Colonel Dearman commanded, and to change the +metaphor, the sole possible means of leavening the lump by its example +of high standards and high achievement. + +To Augustus, however, as to many other Englishmen, the idea was merely +ridiculous and its parent simply absurd. + +The day dawned when Augustus, like the said many other Englishmen, +changed his mind. In his, and their defence, it may be urged that they +knew nothing of the activities of a very retiring but persevering +gentleman, known to his familiars as Ilderim the Weeper, and that they +had grown up in the belief that all England's fighting and defence can +be done by a few underpaid, unconsidered, and very vulgar hirelings. + +Perish the thought that Augustus and his like should ever be expected to +do the dirty work of defending themselves, their wives, children, homes +and honour. + + + + +§ 2. GENERAL MURGER. + + +In a temporary Grand Stand of matchboarding and canvas _tout Gungapur_ +greeted Mrs. Pat Dearman, who was quite At Home, ranged itself, and +critically inspected the horses, or the frocks, of its friends, +according to its sex. + +Around the great ring on to which the Grand Stand looked, Arab, Pathan, +and other heathen raged furiously together and imagined many vain +things. Among them unobtrusively moved a Somali who listened carefully +to conversations, noted speakers, and appeared to be collecting +impressions as to the state of public opinion--and of private opinion. +Particularly he sought opportunities of hearing reference to the +whereabouts and doings of one Ilderim the Weeper. In the ring were a +course of stiff jumps, lesser rings, the judges' office, a kind of +watch-tower from which a strenuous fiend with a megaphone bawled things +that no living soul could understand, and a number of most +horsily-arrayed gentlemen, whose individual status varied from General +and cavalry-colonel to rough rider, troop sergeant-major and stud groom. + +I regret to add that there was also a Lady, that she was garbed for +riding in the style affected by mere man, and that she swaggered +loud-voiced, horsey, slapping a boot. + +Let men thank the good God for womanly women while such be--and +appreciate them. + +Behind the Grand Stand were massed the motor-cars and carriages of +Society, as well as the Steward of the Gungapur Club, who there spent a +busy afternoon in eating ices and drinking Cup while his myrmidons +hurried around, washed glasses, squeezed lemons, boiled water and +dropped things. Anon he drank ices and ate Cup (with a spoon) and was +taken deviously back to his little bungalow behind the Club by the Head +Bootlaire Saheb (or butler) who loved and admired him. + +Beyond the big ring ran the river, full with the summer rains, giving a +false appearance of doing much to cool the air and render the afternoon +suitable to the stiff collars and "Europe" garments of the once sterner +sex. + +A glorious sea-breeze did what the river pretended to do. Beneath the +shade of a clump of palms, scores of more and less valuable horses +stamped, tossed heads, whisked tails and possibly wondered why God made +flies, while an equal number of _syces_ squatted, smoked pungent +_bidis_, and told lies. + +Outside a tent, near by, sat a pimply youth at a table bearing boxes of +be-ribboned labels, number-inscribed, official, levelling. + +These numbers corresponded with those attached to the names of the +horses in the programme of events, and riders must tie one round each +arm ere bringing a horse up for judgment when called on. + +Certain wretched carping critics alleged that this arrangement was to +prevent the possibility of error on the part of the Judges, who, +otherwise, would never know whether a horse belonged to a General or a +Subaltern, to a Member of Council or an Assistant Collector, to a Head +of a Department or a wretched underling--in short to a personage or a +person. + +You find this type of doubter everywhere--and especially in India where +official rank is but the guinea stamp and gold is brass without it. + +Great, in the Grand Stand, was General Miltiades Murger. Beside Mrs. +Dearman, most charming of hostesses, he sate, in the stage of avuncular +affection, and told her that if the Judges knew their business his +hunter would win the Hunter-Class first prize and be "Best Horse in the +Show" too. + +As to his charger, his hack, his trapper, his suitable-for-polo ponies, +his carriage-horses he did not worry; they might or might not "do +something," but his big and beautiful hunter--well, he hoped the Judges +knew their business, that was all. + +"Are you going to show him in the ring yourself, General?" asked Mrs. +Dearman. + +"And leave your side?" replied the great man in manner most avuncular +and with little reassuring pats upon the lady's hand. "No, indeed. I am +going to remain with you and watch Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh ride him +for me. Finest horseman in India. Good as myself. Yes, I _hope_ the +Judges for Class XIX know their business. I imported that horse from +Home and he cost me over six thousand rupees." + +Meanwhile, it may be mentioned, evil passions surged in the soul of Mr. +John Robin Ross-Ellison as he watched the General, and witnessed his +avuncular pattings and confidential whisperings. Mr. Ross-Ellison had +lunched with the Dearmans, had brought Mrs. Dearman to the Horse Show, +and was settling down, after she had welcomed her guests, to a +delightful, entrancing, and thrillful afternoon with her--to be broken +but while he showed his horse--when he had been early and utterly routed +by the General. The heart of Mr. Ross-Ellison was sore within him, for +he loved Mrs. Dearman very devotedly and respectfully. + +He was always devotedly in love with some one, and she was always a nice +good woman. + +When she, or he, left the station, his heart died within him, life was +hollow, and his mouth filled with Dead Sea fruit. The world he loved so +much would turn to dust and ashes at his touch. After a week or so his +heart would resurrect, life would become solid, and his mouth filled +with merry song. He would fall in love afresh and the world went very +well then. + +At present he loved Mrs. Dearman--and hated General Miltiades Murger, +who had sent him for a programme and taken his seat beside Mrs. Dearman. +There was none on the other side of her--Mr. Ross-Ellison had seen to +that--and his prudent foresight had turned and rent him, for he could +not plant a chair in the narrow gangway. + +He wandered disconsolately away and instinctively sought the object of +the one permanent and unwavering love of his life--his mare "Zuleika," +late of Balkh. + +Zuleika was more remarkable for excellences of physique than for those +of mind and character. To one who knew her not, she was a wild beast, +fitter for a cage in a Zoo than for human use, a wild-eyed, screaming +man-eating she-devil; and none knew her save Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison, who had bought her unborn. (He knew her parents.) + +"If you see an ugly old cove with no hair and a blue nose come over here +for his number, just kick his foremost button, _hard_," said Mr. +Ross-Ellison to her as he gathered up the reins and, dodging a kick, +prepared to mount. This was wrong of him, for Zuleika had never suffered +any harm at the hands of General Miltiades Murger, "'eavy-sterned +amateur old men" he quoted in a vicious grumble. + +A wild gallop round the race-course did something to soothe the ruffled +spirit of Mr. Ross-Ellison and nothing to improve Zuleika's +appearance--just before she entered the show-ring. + +On returning, Mr. Ross-Ellison met the Notable Nut (Lieutenant Nottinger +Nutt, an ornament of the Royal Horse Artillery), and they talked evil of +Dignitaries and Institutions amounting to high treason if not blasphemy, +while watching the class in progress, with young but gloomy eyes. + +"I don't care what _any_body says," observed the Notable Nut. "You read +the lists of prize-winners of all the bally horse-shows ever held here +and you'll find 'em all in strict and decorous order of owner's rank. +'Chargers. First Prize--_Lieutenant-General_ White's "Pink Eye". Second +Prize--_Brigadier-General_ Black's "Red Neck". Third Prize--_Colonel_ +Brown's "Ham Bone". Highly commended--_Major_ Green's "Prairie Oyster". +Nowhere at all--_Second-Lieutenant_ Blue's "Cocktail,"'--and worth all +the rest put together. I tell you I've seen horse after horse change +hands after winning a First Prize as a General's property and then win +nothing at all as a common Officer's or junior civilian's, until bought +again by a Big Pot. Then it sweeps the board. I don't for one second +dream of accusing Judges of favouritism or impropriety any kind, but I'm +convinced that the glory of a brass-bound owner casts a halo about his +horse that dazzles and blinds the average rough-rider, stud-groom and +cavalry-sergeant, and don't improve the eyesight of some of their +betters, when judging." + +"You're right, Nutty," agreed Mr. Ross-Ellison. "Look at that horse +'Runaway'. Last year it won the First Prize as a light-weight hunter, +First Prize as a hack, and Highly Commended as a charger--disqualified +from a prize on account of having no mane. It then belonged to a Colonel +of Dragoons. This year, with a mane and in, if possible, better +condition, against practically the same horses, it wins nothing at all. +This year it belongs to a junior in the P.W.D. one notices." + +"Just what I say," acquiesced the aggrieved Nut, whose rejected horse +had been beaten by another which it had itself beaten (under different +ownership) the previous year. "Fact is, the judges should be absolutely +ignorant as to who owns the horses. They mean well enough, but to them +it stands to reason that the most exalted Pots own the most exalted +horses. Besides, is it fair to ask a troop sergeant-major to order his +own Colonel's horse out of the ring, or the General's either? They ought +not to get subordinates in at all. Army Veterinary Colonels from other +Divisions are the sort of chaps you want, and some really knowledgeable +unofficial civilians--and, as I say, to be in complete ignorance as to +ownership. No man to ride his own horse--and none of these bally numbers +to prevent the Judges from thinking a General's horse belongs to a +common man, and from getting the notion that a subaltern's horse belongs +to a General." + +"Yes" mused Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and another thing. If you want to get a +horse a win or a place in the Ladies' Hack class--get a pretty girl to +ride it. They go by the riders' faces and figures entirely.... Hullo! +Class XIX wanted. That's me and Zuleika. Come and tie the labels on my +arms like a good dog." + +"Right O. But you haven't the ghost of a little look in," opined the +Nut. "Old Murger has got a real corking English hunter in. A General +will win as usual--but he'll win with by far the best horse, for once in +the history of horse-shows." + +Dismounting and handing their reins to the syces, the two young +gentlemen strolled over to the table where presided he of the pimples +and number-labels. + +A burly Sikh was pointing to the name of General Miltiades Murger and +asking for the number printed thereagainst. + +The youth handed Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh two labels each bearing the +number 99. These, the gallant Native Officer proceeded to tie upon his +arms--putting them upside down, as is the custom of the native of India +when dealing with anything in any wise reversible. + +Mr. Ross-Ellison approached the table, showed his name on the programme +and asked for his number--66. + +"Tie these on," said he returning to his friend. "By Jove--there's old +Murger's horse," he added--"what a magnificent animal!" + +Looking up, the Nut saw Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh mounting the +beautiful English hunter--and also saw that he bore the number 66. +Therefore the labels handed to him were obviously 99, and as 99 he tied +on the 66 of Mr. Ross-Ellison--who observed the fact. + +"I am afraid I'm all Pathan at this moment," silently remarked he unto +his soul, and smiled an ugly smile. + +"Not much good my entering Zuleika against _that_ mare," he said aloud. +"It must have cost just about ten times what I paid for her. Never mind +though! We'll show up--for the credit of civilians," and he rode into +the ring--where a score of horses solemnly walked round and round the +Judges and in front of the Grand Stand.... + +General Murger brought Mrs. Dearman a cup of tea, and, having placed his +_topi_[49] in his chair, went, for a brandy-and-soda and cheroot, to the +bar behind the rows of seats. + + [49] Sun-helmet. + +On his return he beheld his superb and expensive hunter behaving +superbly and expensively in the expert hands of Rissaldar-Major Shere +Singh. + +He feasted his eyes upon it. + +Suddenly a voice, a voice he disliked intensely, the voice of Mr. +Dearman croaked fiendishly in his ear: "Why, General, they've got your +horse numbered wrongly!" + +General Miltiades Murger looked again. Upon the arm of Rissaldar-Major +Shere Singh was the number 66. + +Opening his programme with trembling fingers he found his name, his +horse's name, and number 99! + +He rose to his feet, stammering and gesticulating. As he did so the +words:-- + +"Take out number 66," were distinctly borne to the ears of the serried +ranks of the fashionable in the Grand Stand. Certain military-looking +persons at the back abandoned all dignity and fell upon each other's +necks, poured great libations, danced, called upon their gods, or fell +prostrate upon settees. + +Others, seated among the ladies, looked into their bats as though in +church. + +"Has Ross-Ellison faked it?" ran from mouth to mouth, and, "He'll be +hung for this". + +A minute or so later the Secretary approached the Grand Stand and +announced in stentorian tones: + +"First Prize--General Murger's _Darling_, Number 99". + +While behind him upon Zuleika, chosen of the Judges, sat and smiled Mr. +John Robin Ross-Ellison, who lifted his voice and said: +"Thanks--No!--This horse is _mine_ and is named _Zuleika_." He looked +rather un-English, rather cunning, cruel and unpleasant--quite different +somehow, from his ordinary cheery, bright English self. + + * * * * * + +"Old" Brigadier General Miltiades Murger was unique among British +Generals in that he sometimes resorted to alcoholic stimulants beyond +reasonable necessity and had a roving and a lifting eye for a pretty +woman. In one sense the General had never taken a wife--and, in another, +he had taken several. Indeed it was said of him by jealous colleagues +that the hottest actions in which he had ever been engaged were actions +for divorce or breach of promise, and that this type of imminent deadly +breach was the kind with which he was best acquainted. Also that he was +better at storming the citadel of a woman's heart than at storming +anything else. + +No eminent man is without jealous detractors. + +As to the stimulants, make no mistake and jump to no hasty conclusions. +General Murger had never been seen drunk in the whole of his +distinguished and famous (or as the aforesaid colleagues called it, +egregious and notorious) career. + +On the other hand, the voice of jealousy said he had never been seen +sober either. In the words of envy, hatred, malice and all +uncharitableness it declared that he had been born fuddled, had lived +fuddled, and would die fuddled. And there were ugly stories. + +Also some funny ones--one of which concerns the, Gungapur Fusilier +Volunteer Corps and Colonel Dearman, their beloved but shortly retiring +(and, as some said, their worthy) Commandant. + +Mr. Dearman was a very wealthy (and therefore popular), very red haired +and very patriotic mill-owner who tried very hard to be proud of his +Corps, and, without trying, was immensely proud of his wife. + +As to the Corps--well, it may at least be said that it would have +followed its beloved Commandant anywhere (that was neither far nor +dangerous), for every one of its Officers, except Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison, and the bulk of its men, were his employees. + +They loved him for his wealth and they trusted him absolutely--trusted +him not to march them far nor work them much. And they were justified of +their faith. + +Several of the Officers were almost English--though Greeks and +Goa-Portuguese predominated, and there was undeniably a drop or two of +English blood in the ranks, well diffused of course. Some folk said that +even Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison was not as Scotch as his name. + +On guest-nights in the Annual Camp of Exercise (when the Officers' Mess +did itself as well as any Mess in India--and only took a few hundred +rupees of the Government Grant for the purpose) Colonel Dearman would +look upon the wine when it was bubbly, see his Corps through its golden +haze, and wax so optimistic, so enthusiastic, so rash, as roundly to +state that if he had five hundred of the Gungapur Fusiliers, with +magazines charged and bayonets fixed, behind a stout entrenchment or in +a fortified building, he would stake his life on their facing any +unarmed city mob you could bring against them. But these were but +post-prandial vapourings, and Colonel Dearman never talked nor thought +any such folly when the Corps was present to the eye of flesh. + +On parade he saw it for what it was--a mob of knock-kneed, sniffling +lads with just enough strength to suck a cigarette; anaemic clerks, fat +cooks, and loafers with just enough wind to last a furlong march; huge +beery old mechanics and ex-"Tommies," forced into this coloured galley +as a condition of their "job at the works "; and the non-native scum of +the city of Gungapur--which joined for the sake of the ammunition-boots +and khaki suit. + +There was not one Englishman who was a genuine volunteer and not half a +dozen Parsis. Englishmen prefer to join a corps which consists of +Englishmen or at least has an English Company. When they have no +opportunity of so doing, it is a little unfair to class them with the +lazy, unpatriotic, degenerate young gentlemen who have the opportunity +and do not seize it. Captain Ross-Ellison was doing his utmost to +provide the opportunity--with disheartening results. + +However--Colonel Dearman tried very hard to be proud of his Corps and +never forgave anyone who spoke slightingly of it. + +As to his wife, there was, as stated, no necessity for any "trying". He +was immensely and justly proud of her as one of the prettiest, most +accomplished, and most attractive women in the Bendras Presidency. + +Mrs. "Pat" Dearman, _née_ Cleopatra Diamond Brighte, was, as has been +said, consciously and most obviously a Good Woman. Brought up by a +country rector and his vilely virtuous sister, her girlhood had been a +struggle to combine her two ambitions, that of being a Good Woman with +that of having a Good Time. In the village of Bishop's Overley the +former had been easier; in India the latter. But even in India, where +the Good Time was of the very best, she forgot not the other ambition, +went to church with unfailing regularity, read a portion of the +Scriptures daily; headed subscription lists for the myriad hospitals, +schools, widows'-homes, work-houses, Christian associations, churches, +charitable societies, shelters, orphanages, rescue-homes and other +deserving causes that appeal to the European in India; did her duty by +Colonel Dearman, and showed him daily by a hundred little bright +kindnesses that she had not married him for his great wealth but for +his--er--his--er--not exactly his beauty or cleverness or youthful +gaiety or learning or ability--no, for his Goodness, of course, and +because she loved him--loved him for the said Goodness, no doubt. No, +she never forgot the lessons of the Rectory, that it is the Whole Duty +of Man to Save his or her Soul, but remembered to be a Good Woman while +having the Good Time. Perhaps the most industriously pursued of all her +goodnesses was her unflagging zealous labour in Saving the Souls of +Others as well as her own Soul--the "Others" being the young, +presentable, gay, and well-placed men of Gungapur Society. + +Yes, Mrs. Pat Dearman went beyond the Rectory teachings and was not +content with personal salvation. A Good Woman of broad altruistic +charity, there was not a young Civilian, not a Subaltern, not a +handsome, interesting, smart, well-to-do, well-in-society, young +bachelor in whose spiritual welfare she did not take the deepest +personal interest. And, perhaps, of all such eligible souls in Gungapur, +the one whose Salvation she most deeply desired to work out (after she +wearied of the posings and posturings of Augustus Grobble) was that of +Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison of her husband's corps--an exceedingly +handsome, interesting, smart, well-to-do, well-in-society young +bachelor. The owner of this eligible Soul forebore to tell Mrs. Pat +Dearman that it was bespoke for Mohammed the Prophet of Allah--inasmuch +as _almost_ the most entrancing, thrilling and delightful pursuit of his +life was the pursuit of soul-treatment at the hands, the beautiful tiny +white hands, of Mrs. Pat Dearman. Had her large soulful eyes penetrated +this subterfuge, he would have jettisoned Mohammed forthwith, since, to +him, the soul-treatment was of infinitely more interest and value than +the soul, and, moreover, strange as it may seem, this Mussulman English +gentleman had received real and true Christian teaching at his mother's +knee. When Mrs. Pat Dearman took him to Church, as she frequently did, +on Sunday evenings, he was filled with great longings--and with a +conviction of the eternal Truth and Beauty of Christianity and the +essential nobility of its gentle, unselfish, lofty teachings. He would +think of his mother, of some splendid men and women he had known, +especially missionaries, medical and other, at Bannu and Poona and +elsewhere, and feel that he was really a Christian at heart; and then +again in Khost and Mekran Kot, when carrying his life in his hand, +across the border, in equal danger from the bullet of the Border Police, +Guides, or Frontier Force cavalry-outposts and from the bullet of +criminal tribesmen, when a devil in his soul surged up screaming for +blood and fire and slaughter; during the long stealthy crawl as he +stalked the stalker; during the wild, yelling, knife-brandishing rush; +as he pressed the steady trigger or guided the slashing, stabbing Khyber +knife, or as he instinctively _hallaled_ the victim of his _shikar_, he +knew he was a Pathan and a Mussulman as were his fathers. + +But whether circumstances brought his English blood to the surface or +his Pathan blood, whether the day were one of his most English days or +one of his most Pathan days, whether it were a day of mingled and +quickly alternating Englishry and Pathanity he now loved and supported +Britain and the British Empire for Mrs. Dearman's sake. Often as he +(like most other non-officials) had occasion to detest and desire to +kick the Imperial Englishman, championship of England and her Empire +was now his creed. And as there was probably not another England-lover +in all India who had his knowledge of under-currents, and forces within +and without, he was perhaps the most anxiously loving of all her lovers, +and the most appalled at the criminal carelessness, blind ignorance, +fatuous conceit, and folly of a proportion of her sons in India. + +Knowing what he knew of Teutonic intrigue and influence in India, +Ceylon, Afghanistan, Aden, Persia, Egypt, East Africa, the Straits +Settlements, and China, he was reminded of the men and women of Pompeii +who ate, drank, and were merry, danced and sang, pursued pleasure and +the nimble denarius, while Vesuvius rumbled. + +Constantly the comparison entered his mind. + +He had sojourned with Indian "students" in India, England, Germany, +Geneva, America and Japan, and had belonged to the most secret of +societies. He had himself been a well-paid agent of Germany in both Asia +and Africa; and he had been instrumental in supplying thousands of +rifles to Border raiders, Persian bandits, and other potential troublers +of the _pax Britannica_. He now lived half his double life in Indian +dress and moved on many planes; and to many places where even he could +not penetrate unsuspected, his staunch and devoted slave, Moussa Isa, +went observant. And all that he learnt and knew, within and without the +confines of Ind, _by itself_ disturbed him, as an England-lover, not at +all. Taken in conjunction with the probabilities of a great European War +it disturbed him mightily. As mightily as unselfishly. To him the +dripping weapon, the blazing roof, the shrieking woman, the mangled +corpse were but incidents, the unavoidable, unobjectionable concomitants +of the Great Game, the game he most loved (and played upon every +possible occasion)--War. + +While, with one half of his soul, John Robin Ross-Ellison might fear +internal disruption, mutiny, rebellion and civil war for what it might +bring to the woman he loved, with the other half of his soul, Mir +Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan dwelt upon the joys of +battle, of campaigning, the bivouac, the rattle of rifle-fire, the +charge, the circumventing and slaying of the enemy, as he circumvents +that he may slay. Thus, it was with no selfish thought, no personal +dread, that he grew, as said, mightily disturbed at what he knew of +India whenever he saw signs of the extra imminence of the Great European +Armageddon that looms upon the horizon, now near, now nearer still, now +less near, but inevitably there, plain to the eyes of all observant, +informed and thoughtful men.[50] + + [50] Written in 1912.--AUTHOR. + +What really astounded and appalled him was the mental attitude, the +mental condition, of British "statesmen," who (while a mighty and +ever-growing neighbour, openly, methodically, implacably prepared for +the war that was to win her place in the sun) laboured to reap votes by +sowing class-hatred and devoted to national "insurance" moneys sorely +needed to insure national _existence_. + +To him it was as though hens cackled of introducing +time-and-labour-saving incubators while the fox pressed against the +unfastened door, smiling to think that their cackle smothered all other +sounds ere they reached them or the watch-dog. + +Yes--while England was at peace, all was well with India; but let +England find herself at war, fighting for her very existence ... and +India might, in certain parts, be an uncomfortable place for any but the +strong man armed, as soon as the British troops were withdrawn--as they, +sooner or later, most certainly would be. Then, feared Captain John +Robin Ross-Ellison of the Gungapur Fusiliers, the British Flag would, +for a terrible breathless period of stress and horror, fly, assailed but +triumphant, wherever existed a staunch well-handled Volunteer Corps, and +would flutter down into smoke, flames, ruin and blood, where there did +not. He was convinced that, for a period, the lives of English women, +children and men; English prosperity, prestige, law and order; English +rule and supremacy, would in some parts of India depend for a time upon +the Volunteers of India. At times he was persuaded that the very +continuance of the British Empire might depend upon the Volunteers of +India. If, during some Black Week (or Black Month or Year) of England's +death-struggle with her great rival she lost India (defenceless India, +denuded of British troops), she would lose her Empire,--be the result of +her European war what it might. And knowing all that he knew, he feared +for England, he feared for India, he feared for the Empire. Also he +determined that, so far as it lay in the power of one war-trained man, +the flag should be kept flying in Gungapur when the Great European +Armageddon commenced, and should fly over a centre, and a shelter, for +Mrs. Dearman, and for all who were loyal and true. + +That would be a work worthy of the English blood of him and of the +Pathan blood too. God! he would show some of these devious, +subterranean, cowardly swine what war _is_, if they brought war to +Gungapur in the hour of India's danger and need, the hour of England and +the Empire's danger and need. + +And Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison (and still more Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan), obsessed with the belief that a +different and more terrible 1857 would dawn with the first big reverse +in England's final war with her systematic, slow, sure, and certain +rival, her deliberate, scientific, implacable rival, gave all his +thoughts, abilities and time to the enthralling, engrossing game of +Getting Ready. + +Perfecting his local system of secret information, hearing and seeing +all that he could with his own Pathan ears and eyes, and adding to his +knowledge by means of those of the Somali slave, he also learnt, at +first hand, what certain men were saying in Cabul and on the Border--and +what those men say in those places is worth knowing by the meteorologist +of world-politics. The pulse of the heart of Europe can be felt very far +from that heart, and as is the wrist to the pulse-feeling doctor, is +Afghanistan and the Border to the head of India's Political Department; +as is the doctor's sensitive thumb to the doctor's brain, is the tried, +trusted and approven agent of the Secret Service to the Head of all the +Politicals.... What chiefly troubled Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison of +the Gungapur Fusiliers was the shocking condition of those same +Fusiliers and the blind smug apathy, the fatuous contentment, the short +memories and shorter sight, of the British Pompeians who were perfectly +willing that the condition of the said Fusiliers should remain so. + +Clearly the first step towards a decently reliable and efficient corps +in Gungapur was the abolition of the present one, and, with unformulated +intentions towards its abolition, Mr. Ross-Ellison, by the kind +influence of Mrs. Dearman, joined as a Second Lieutenant and speedily +rose to the rank of Captain and the command of a Company. A year's +indefatigable work convinced him that he might as well endeavour to +fashion sword-blades from leaden pipes as to make a fighting unit of his +gang of essentially cowardly, peaceful, unreliable, feeble nondescripts. +That their bodies were contemptible he would have regarded as merely +deplorable, but there was no spirit, no soul, no tradition--nothing upon +which he could work. "Broken-down tapsters and serving-men" indeed, in +Cromwell's bitter words, and to be replaced by "men of a spirit". + +They must go--and make way for men--if indeed _men_ could be found, men +who realized that even an Englishman owes something to the community +when he goes abroad, in spite of his having grown up in a land where +honourable and manly National Service is not, and those who keep him +safe are cheap hirelings, cheaply held.... + +On the arrival of General Miltiades Murger he sat at his feet as soon +as, and whenever, possible; only to discover that he was not only +uninterested in, but obviously contemptuous of, volunteers and +volunteering. When, at the Dearmans' dinner-table, he endeavoured to +talk with the General on the subject he was profoundly discouraged, and +on his asking what was to happen when the white troops went home and +the Indian troops went to the Border, or even to Europe, as soon as +England's inevitable and final war broke out, he was also profoundly +snubbed. + +When, after that dinner, General Miltiades Murger made love to Mrs. +Dearman on the verandah, he also made an enemy, a bitter, cruel, and +vindictive enemy of Mr. Ross-Ellison (or rather of Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan). + +Nor did his subsequent victory at the Horse Show lessen the enmity, +inasmuch as Mrs. Dearman (whom Ross-Ellison loved with the respectful +platonic devotion of an English gentleman and the fierce intensity of a +Pathan) took General Miltiades Murger at his own valuation, when that +hero described himself and his career to her by the hour. For the +General had succumbed at a glance, and confided to his Brigade-Major +that Mrs. Dearman was a dooced fine woman and the Brigade-Major might +say that he said so, damme. + +As the General's infatuation increased he told everybody else +also--everybody except Colonel Dearman--who, of course, knew it already. + +He even told Jobler, his soldier-servant, promoted butler, as that +sympathetic and admiring functionary endeavoured to induce him to go to +bed without his uniform. + +At last he told Mrs. Dearman herself, as he saw her in the rosy light +that emanated from the fine old Madeira that fittingly capped a noble +luncheon given by him in her honour. + +He also told her that he loved her as a father--and she besought him not +to be absurd. Later he loved her as an uncle, later still as a cousin, +later yet as a brother, and then as a man. + +She had laughed deprecatingly at the paternal affection, doubtfully at +the avuncular, nervously at the cousinly, angrily at the brotherly,--and +not at all at the manly. + +In fact--as the declaration of manly love had been accompanied by an +endeavour to salute what the General had called her damask-cheek--she +had slapped the General's own cheek a resounding blow.... + +"Called you 'Mrs. Darlingwoman,' did he!" roared Mr. Dearman upon being +informed of the episode. "Wished to salute your damask cheek, did he! +The boozy old villain! Damask cheek! _Damned_ cheek! Where's my +dog-whip?" ... but Mrs. Dearman had soothed and restrained her lord for +the time being, and prevented him from insulting and assaulting the +"aged roué"--who was years younger, in point of fact, than the +clean-living Mr. Dearman himself. + +But he had shut his door to the unrepentant and unashamed General, had +cut him in the Club, had returned a rudely curt answer to an invitation +to dinner, and had generally shown the offender that he trod on +dangerous ground when poaching on the preserves of Mr. Dearman. Whereat +the General fumed. + +Also the General swore that he would cut the comb of this insolent +money-grubbing civilian. + +Further, he intimated his desire to inspect the Gungapur Fusiliers "on +Saturday next". + +Not the great and terrible Annual Inspection, of course, but a +preliminary canter in that direction. + +Doubtless, the new General desired to arrive at a just estimate of the +value of this unit of his Command, and to allot to it the place for +which it was best fitted in the scheme of local defence and things +military at Gungapur. + +Perhaps he desired to teach the presumptuous upstart, Dearman, a little +lesson.... + +The Brigade Major's demy-official letter, bearing the intimation of the +impending visitation--fell as a bolt from the blue and smote the Colonel +of the Gungapur Fusiliers a blow that turned his heart to water and +loosened the tendons of his knees. + +The very slack Adjutant was at home on leave; the Sergeant-Major was +absolutely new to the Corps; the Sergeant-Instructor was alcoholic and +ill; and there was not a company officer, except the admirable Captain +John Robin Ross-Ellison, competent to drill a company as a separate +unit, much less to command one in a battalion. And Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison was away on an alleged _shikar_-trip across the distant +Border. Colonel Dearman knew his battalion-drill. He also knew his +Gungapur Fusiliers and what they did when they received the orders of +those feared and detested evolutions. They walked about, each man a law +unto himself, or stood fast until pushed in the desired direction by +blasphemous drill-corporals. + +Nor could any excuse be found wherewith to evade the General. It was +near the end of the drill-season, the Corps was up to its full strength, +all the Officers were in the station--except Captain Ross-Ellison and +the Adjutant. And the Adjutant's absence could not be made a just cause +and impediment why the visit of the General should not be paid, for +Colonel Dearman had with some difficulty, procured the appointment of +one of his Managers as acting-adjutant. + +To do so he had been moved to describe the man as an "exceedingly smart +and keen Officer," and to state that the Corps would in no way suffer by +this temporary change from a military to a civilian adjutant, from a +professional to an amateur. + +Perhaps the Colonel was right--it would have taken more than that to +make the Gungapur Fusiliers "suffer". + +And all had gone exceeding well up to the moment of the receipt of this +terrible demi-official, for the Acting-Adjutant had signed papers when +and where the Sergeant-Major told him, and had saluted the Colonel +respectfully every Saturday evening at five, as he came on parade, and +suggested that the Corps should form fours and march round and round the +parade ground, prior to attempting one or two simple movements--as +usual. + +No. It would have to be--unless, of course, the General had a stroke +before Saturday, or was smitten with _delirium tremens_ in time. For it +was an article of faith with Colonel Dearman since the disgraceful +episode--that a "stroke" hung suspended by the thinnest of threads above +the head of the "aged roué" and that, moreover, he trembled on the verge +of a terrible abyss of alcoholic diseases--a belief strengthened by the +blue face, boiled eye, congested veins and shaking hand of the breaker +of hearts. And Colonel Dearman knew that he must not announce the awful +fact until the Corps was actually present--or few men and fewer Officers +would find it possible to be on parade on that occasion. + +Saturday evening came, and with it some five hundred men and +Officers--the latter as a body, much whiter-faced than usual, on receipt +of the appalling news. + +"Thank God I have nothing to do but sit around on my horse," murmured +Major Pinto. + +"Don't return thanks yet," snapped Colonel Dearman. "You'll very likely +have to drill the battalion"--and the Major went as white as his natural +disadvantages permitted. + +Bitterly did Captain Trebizondi regret his constant insistence upon the +fact that he was senior Captain--for he was given command of "A" +Company, the post of honour and danger in front of all, and was implored +to "pull it through" and not to stand staring like an owl when the +Colonel said the battalion would advance; or turn to the left when he +shouted "In succession advance in fours from the right of Companies". + +And in the orderly-room was much hurried consulting of Captain +Ross-Ellison's well-trained subaltern and of drill-books; and a babel of +such questions as: "I say, what the devil do I do if I'm commanding +Number Two and he says 'Deploy outwards'? Go to the right or left?" + +More than one gallant officer was seen scribbling for dear life upon his +shirt-cuff, while others, to the common danger, endeavoured to practise +the complicated sword-brandishment which is consequent upon the order +"Fall out the Officers". + +Colonel Dearman appealed to his brothers-in-arms to stand by him nobly +in his travail, but was evidently troubled by the fear that some of them +would stand by him when they ought to march by him. Captain +Petropaulovski, the acting-adjutant, endeavoured to moisten his parched +lips with a dry tongue and sat down whenever opportunity offered. + +Captain Euxino Spoophitophiles was seen to tear a page from a red manual +devoted to instruction in the art of drill and to secrete it as one +"palms" a card--if one is given to the palming of cards. Captain +Schloggenboschenheimer was heard to promise a substantial _trink-geld_, +_pour-boire_, or vot-you-call-tip to Sergeant-Instructor Progg in the +event of the latter official remaining mit him and prompting him mit +der-vord-to-say ven it was necessary for him der-ting-to-do. + +Too late, Captain Da Costa bethought him of telephoning to his wife (to +telephone back to himself imploring him to return at once as she was +parlous ill and sinking fast), for even as he stepped quietly toward the +telephone-closet the Sergeant-Major bustled in with a salute and the +fatal words:-- + +"'Ere's the General, Sir!" + +"For God's sake get on parade and play the man this day," cried Colonel +Dearman, as he hurried out to meet the General, scoring his right boot +with his left spur and tripping over his sword _en route_. + + * * * * * + +The General greeted the Colonel as a total stranger, addressed him as +"Colonel," and said he anticipated great pleasure from this his first +visit to the well-known Gungapur Fusiliers. He did, and he got it. + +Dismounting slowly and heavily from his horse (almost as though "by +numbers") the General, followed by his smart and dapper Brigade-Major +and the perspiring Colonel Dearman, strode with clank of steel and +creak of leather, through the Headquarters building and emerged upon the +parade-ground where steadfast stood seven companies of the Gungapur +Fusilier Volunteers in quarter column--more or less at "attention". + +"'Shun!" bawled Colonel Dearman, and those who were "at ease" 'shunned, +and those who were already 'shunning took their ease. + +"'_Shun_!" again roared the Colonel, and those who were now in that +military position relinquished it--while those who were not, assumed it +in their own good time. + +As the trio drew nigh unto the leading company, Captain Trebizondi, +coyly lurking behind its rear rank, shrilly screamed, "'A' Gompany! +Royal Salutes! Present Arrrrms!" while a volunteer, late a private of +the Loyal Whitechapel Regiment, and now an unwilling member of this +corps of auxiliary troops, audibly ejaculated through one corner of his +mobile mouth:-- + +"Don't you do nothink o' the sort!" and added a brief orison in +prejudice of his eyesight. + +Certain of "A's" stalwarts obeyed their Captain, while others took the +advice of the volunteer--who was known to have been a man of war in the +lurid past, and to understand these matters. + +Lieutenant Toddywallah tugged valiantly at his sword for a space, but +finding that weapon coy and unwilling to leave its sheath, he raised his +helmet gracefully and respectfully to the General. His manner was always +polished. + +"What the devil are they doing?" inquired the General. + +"B," "C," "D," "E," "F," and "G" Companies breathed hard and protruded +their stomachs, while Sergeant-Instructor Progg deserved well of Captain +Schloggenboschenheimer by sharply tugging his tunic-tail as he was in +the act of roaring:-- + +"_Gomm_--!" the first syllable of the word "Company," with a view to +bestowing a royal salute likewise. Instead, the Captain extended the +hand of friendship to the General as he approached. The look of _nil +admirari_ boredom slowly faded from the face of the smart and dapper +Brigade-Major, and for a while it displayed quite human emotions. + +Up and down and between the ranks strode the trio, the General making +instructive and interesting comments from time to time, such as:-- + +"Are your buttons of metal or bone, my man? Polish them and find out." + +"What did you cook in that helmet?" + +"Take your belt in seven holes, and put it where your waist was." + +"Are _you_ fourteen years old yet?" + +"Personally I don't care to see brown boots, patent shoes nor carpet +slippers with uniform." + +"And when were you ninety, my poor fellow?" + +"Get your belly out of my way." + +"Put this unclean person under arrest or under a pump, please, Colonel." + +"Can you load a rifle unaided?" and so forth. + +The last-mentioned query "Can you load a rifle unaided?" addressed to a +weedy youth of seventeen who stood like a living mark-of-interrogation, +elicited the reply:-- + +"Nossir". + +"Oh, really! And what _can_ you do?" replied the General sweetly. + +"Load a rifle Lee-Metford," was the prompt answer. + +The General smiled wintrily, and, at the conclusion of his +peregrination, remarked to Colonel Dearman:-- + +"Well, Colonel, I can safely say that I have never inspected a +corps quite like yours"--an observation capable of various +interpretations--and intimated a desire to witness some company drill +ere testing the abilities of the regiment in battalion drill. + +"Let the rear company march out and go through some movements," said he. + +"Why the devil couldn't he have chosen Ross-Ellison's company," thought +Colonel Dearman, as he saluted and lifted up his voice and cried +aloud:-- + +"Captain Rozario! March 'G' Company out for some company-drill. +Remainder--stand _easy_." + +Captain Rozario paled beneath the bronze imparted to his well-nourished +face by the suns of Portugal (or Goa), drew his sword, dropped it, +picked it up, saluted with his left hand and backed into Lieutenant +Xenophontis of "F" Company, who asked him vare the devil he was going +to--hein?... + +To the first cold stroke of fright succeeded the hot flush of rage as +Captain Rozario saw the absurdity of ordering him to march his company +out for company drill. How in the name of all the Holy Saints could he +march his company out with six companies planted in front of him? Let +them be cleared away first. To his men he ejaculated:-- + +"Compannee----!" and they accepted the remark in silence. + +The silence growing tense he further ejaculated "Ahem!" very loudly, +without visible result or consequence. The silence growing tenser, +Colonel Dearman said encouragingly but firmly:-- + +"_Do_ something, Captain Rozario". + +Captain Rozario did something. He drew his whistle. He blew it. He +replaced it in his pocket. + +Nothing happening, he took his handkerchief from his sleeve, blew his +nose therewith and dropped it (the handkerchief) upon the ground. Seven +obliging volunteers darted forward to retrieve it. + +"May we expect the evolutions this evening, Colonel?" inquired General +Murger politely. + +"We are waiting for you to move off, Captain Rozario," stated Colonel +Dearman. + +"Sir, how can I move off with _oll_ the rest in my front?" inquired +Captain Rozario reasonably. + +"Form fours, right, and quick march," prompted the Sergeant-Major, and +Captain Rozario shrilled forth: + +"Form right fours and march quick," at the top of his voice. + +Many members of "G" Company turned to their right and marched towards +the setting-sun, while some turned to their left and marched in the +direction of China. + +These latter, discovering in good time that they had erred, hurried to +rejoin their companions--and "G" Company was soon in full swing if not +in fours.... + +There is a limit to all enterprise and the march of "G" Company was +stayed by a high wall. + +Then Captain Rozario had an inspiration. + +"About turn," he shrieked--and "G" Company about turned as one man, if +not in one direction. + +The march of "G" Company was stayed this time by the battalion into +which it comfortably nuzzled. + +Again Captain Rozario seized the situation and acted promptly and +resourcefully. + +"Halt!" he squeaked, and "G" Company halted--in form an oblate spheroid. + +Some of its members removed their helmets and the sweat of their brows, +some re-fastened bootlaces and putties or unfastened restraining hooks +and buttons. One gracefully succumbed to his exertions and fainting +fell, with an eye upon the General. + +"Interestin' evolution," remarked that Officer. "Demmed interestin'. May +we have some more?" + +"Get on, Captain Rozario," implored Colonel Dearman. "Let's see some +company-drill." + +"One hundred and twenty-five paces backward march," cried Captain +Rozario after a brief calculation, and "G" Company reluctantly detached +itself from the battalion, backwards. + +"Turn round this away and face to me," continued the gallant Captain, +"and then on the left form good companee." + +The oblate spheroid assumed an archipelagic formation, melting into +irregularly-placed military islands upon a sea of dust. + +"_Oll_ get together and left dress, please," besought Captain Rozario, +and many of the little islands amalgamated with that on their extreme +right while the remainder gravitated to their left--the result being +two continents of unequal dimensions. + +As Captain Rozario besought these disunited masses to conjoin, the voice +of the General was heard in the land-- + +"Kindly order that mob to disperse before it is fired on, will you, +Colonel? They can go home and stay there," said he. + +Captain Rozario was a man of sensibility and he openly wept. + +No one could call this a good beginning--nor could they have called the +ensuing battalion-drill a good ending. + +"Put the remainder of the battalion through some simple movements if +they know any," requested the General. + +Determined to retrieve the day yet, Colonel Dearman saluted, cleared his +throat terrifically and shouted: '"Tallish, 'shun!" with such force that +a nervous man in the front rank of "A" Company dropped his rifle and +several "presented" arms. + +Only one came to the "slope," two to the "trail" and four to the +"shoulder". + +Men already at attention again stood at ease, while men already at ease +again stood at attention. + +Disregarding these minor _contretemps_, Colonel Dearman clearly and +emphatically bellowed:-- + +"The battalion will advance. In succession, advance in fours from the +left of companies--" + +"Why not tell off the battalion--just for luck?" suggested General +Murger. + +"Tell off the battalion," said Colonel Dearman in his natural voice and +an unnaturally crestfallen manner. + +Captain Trebizondi of "A" Company glared to his front, and instead of +replying "Number One" in a loud voice, held his peace--tight. + +But his lips moved constantly, and apparently Captain Trebizondi was +engaged in silent prayer. + +"Tell off the battalion," bawled the Colonel again. + +Captain Trebizondi's lips moved constantly. + +"_Will_ you tell off the dam battalion, Sir?" shouted the Colonel at the +enrapt supplicant. + +Whether Captain Trebizondi is a Mohammedan I am not certain, but, if so, +he may have remembered words of the Prophet to the effect that it is +essential to trust in Allah absolutely, and expedient to tie up your +camel yourself, none the less. Captain Trebizondi was trusting in Allah +perchance--but he had not tied up his camel; he had not learnt his +drill. + +And when Colonel Dearman personally and pointedly appealed to him in the +matter of the battalion's telling-off, he turned round and faced it and +said-- + +"Ah--battalion--er--" in a very friendly and persuasive voice. + +Then a drill corporal took it upon him to bawl _Number One_ as Captain +Trebizondi should have done, some one shouted _Number Two_ from "B" +Company, the colour-sergeant of "C" bawled _Number Three_ and then, with +ready wit, the Captains of "D," "E," and "F" caught up the idea, and the +thing was done. + +So far so good. + +And the Colonel returned to his first venture and again announced to the +battalion that it would advance in succession and in fours from the left +of companies. + +It bore the news with equanimity and Captain Trebizondi visibly +brightened at the idea of leaving the spot on which he had suffered and +sweated--but he took no steps in the matter personally. + +He tried to scratch his leg through his gaiter. + +"'A' Company going this evening?" inquired the General. "Wouldn't hurry +you, y'know, but--I dine at nine." + +Captain Trebizondi remembered his parade-manners and threw a chest +instead of a stomach. + +The jerk caused his helmet to tilt forward over his eyes and settle down +slowly and firmly upon his face as a fallen cliff upon the beach +beneath. + +"The Officer commanding the leading company appears to be trying to +hide," commented General Murger. + +Captain Trebizondi uncovered his face--a face of great promise but no +performance. + +"_Will_ you march your company off, sir," shouted Colonel Dearman, "the +battalion is waiting for you." + +With a look of reproachful surprise and an air of "Why couldn't you say +so?" the harassed Captain agitated his sword violently as a salute, +turned to his company and boomed finely:-- + +"March off!" + +The Company obeyed its Commander. + +Seeing the thing so easy of accomplishment Captains Allessandropoulos, +Schloggenboschenheimer, Da Costa, Euxino, Spoophitophiles and José gave +the same order and the battalion was in motion--marching to its front in +quarter-column instead of wheeling off in fours. + + Unsteadily shoulder from shoulder, + Unsteadily blade from blade, + Unsteady and wrong, slouching along, + Went the boys of the old brigade. + +"Halt," roared Colonel Dearman. + +"Oh, don't halt 'em," begged General Murger, "it's the most entertainin' +show I have ever seen." + +The smart and dapper Brigade-Major's mouth was open. + +Major Pinto and Captain-and-Acting-Adjutant Petropaulovski forgot to +cling to their horses with hand and heel and so endangered their lives. + +The non-commissioned officers of the permanent staff commended their +souls to God and marched as men in a dream. + +On hearing the Colonel's cry of "Halt" many of the men halted. Not +hearing the Colonel's cry of "Halt" many of the men did not halt. + +In two minutes the battalion was without form and void. + +In ten minutes the permanent staff had largely re-sorted it and, to a +great extent, re-formed the original companies. + +Captain José offered his subaltern, Lieutenant Bylegharicontractor, a +hundred rupees to change places with him. + +Offer refused, with genuine and deep regret, but firmly. + +"Shall we have another try, Colonel," inquired General Murger silkily. +"Any amount of real initiative and originality about this Corps. But I +am old-fashioned enough to prefer drill-book evolutions on the +barrack-square, I confess. Er--let the Major carry on as it is getting +late." + +Colonel Dearman's face flushed a rich dark purple. His eyes protruded +till they resembled those of a crab. His red hair appeared to flame +like very fire. His lips twitched and he gasped for breath. Could he +believe his ears. "_Let the Major carry on as it is getting late_!" Let +him step into the breach "as it is getting late!" Let the more +competent, though junior, officer take over the command "as it is +getting late". Ho!--likewise Ha! This aged roué, this miserable +wine-bibbing co-respondent, with his tremulous hand and boiled eye, +thought that Colonel Dearman did not know his drill, did he? Wanted the +wretched and incompetent Pinto to carry on, did he?--as it was getting +late. + +Good! Ha! Likewise Ho! "Let Pinto carry on as it was getting late!" + +Very well! _If it cost Colonel Dearman every penny he had in the world +he would have his revenge on the insolent scoundrel_. He might think he +could insult Colonel Dearman's wife with impunity, he might think +himself entitled to cast ridicule on Colonel Dearman's Corps--but "let +the Major carry on as it is getting late!" By God that was too +much!--That was the last straw that breaks the camel's heart--and +Colonel Dearman would have his revenge or lose life, honour, and wealth +in the attempt. + +_Ha_! and, moreover, _Ho_! + +The Colonel knew his battalion-drill by heart and backwards. Was it +_his_ fault that his officers were fools and his men damn-fools? + +Major Pinto swallowed hard, blinked hard, and breathed hard. Like the +Lady of Shallott he felt that the curse had come upon him. + +"Battalion will advance. Quick march," he shouted, as a safe beginning. +But the Sergeant-Major had by this time fully explained to the sweating +Captain Trebizondi that he should have given the order "Form fours. +Left. Right wheel. Quick march," when the Colonel had announced that the +battalion would advance "in succession from the left of companies". + +Like lightning he now hurled forth the orders. "Form fours. Left. Right +wheel. Quick march.", and the battalion was soon under way with one +company in column of fours and the remaining five companies in line.... + +Time cures all troubles, and in time "A" Company was pushed and pulled +back into line again. + +The incident pleased Major Pinto as it wasted the fleeting minutes and +gave him a chance to give the only other order of which he was sure. + +"That was _oll_ wrong," said he. "We will now, however, oll advance as +'A' Company did. The arder will be 'Battalion will advance. In +succession, advance in fours from the right of companees.' Thenn each +officer commanding companees will give the arder 'Form fours. Right. +Left wheel. Quick march' one after _thee_ other." + +And the Major gave the order. + +To the surprise of every living soul upon the parade-ground the +manoeuvre was correctly executed and the battalion moved off in column +of fours. And it kept on moving. And moving. For Major Pinto had come to +the end of his tether. + +"_Do_ something, man," said Colonel Dearman with haughty scorn, after +some five minutes of strenuous tramping had told severely on the +_morale_ of the regiment. + +And Major Pinto, hoping for the best and fearing the worst, lifted up +his voice and screamed:-- + +"On the right _form battalion_!" + +Let us draw a veil. + +The adjective that General Murger used with the noun he called the +Gungapur Fusiliers is not to be printed. + +The address he made to that Corps after it had once more found itself +would have led a French or Japanese regiment to commit suicide by +companies, taking the time from the right. A Colonel of Romance Race +would have fallen on his sword at once (and borrowed something more +lethal had it failed to penetrate). + +But the corps, though not particularly British, was neither French nor +Japanese and was very glad of the rest while the General talked. And +Colonel Dearman, instead of falling on his sword, fell on General Murger +(in spirit) and swore to be revenged tenfold. + +He would have his own back, cost what it might, or his name was not +Dearman--and he was going Home on leave immediately after the Volunteer +Annual Camp of Exercise, just before General Murger retired.... + +"I shall inspect your corps in camp," General Murger had said, "and the +question of its disbandment may wait until I have done so." + +_Disbandment_! The question of the _disbandment_ of the fine and +far-famed Fusiliers of Gungapur could wait till then, could it? Well +_and_ good! Ha! and likewise Ho! + +On Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison's return from leave, Colonel Dearman +told that officer of General Murger's twofold insult--to Colonel +Dearman's wife and to Colonel Dearman's Corps. On hearing of the first, +Captain Ross-Ellison showed his teeth in a wolfish and ugly manner, and, +on hearing of the second, propounded a scheme of vengeance that made +Colonel Dearman grin and then burst into a roar of laughter. He bade +Captain Ross-Ellison dine with him and elaborate details of the scheme. + + * * * * * + +To rumours of General Murger's failing health and growing alcoholism +Colonel Dearman listened with interest--nay, satisfaction. Stories of +seizures, strokes and "goes" of _delirium tremens_ met with no rebuke +nor contradiction from him--and an air of leisured ease and unanxious +peacefulness pervaded the Gungapur Fusiliers. If any member had thought +that the sad performance of the fatal Saturday night and the winged +words of General Murger were to be the prelude to period of fierce +activity and frantic preparation, he was mistaken. It was almost as +though Colonel Dearman believed that General Murger would not live to +carry out his threat. + +The corps paraded week by week, fell in, marched round the ground and +fell out again. There was no change of routine, no increase of work, no +stress, no strain. + +All was peace, the corps was happy, and in the fullness of time (and the +absence of the Adjutant) it went to Annual Camp of Exercise a few miles +from Gungapur. And there the activities of Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison and a large band of chosen men were peculiar. While the +remainder, with whom went Colonel Dearman, the officers, and the +permanent staff, marched about in the usual manner and enjoyed the +picnic, these others appeared to be privately and secretly rehearsing a +more specialized part--to the mystification and wonder of the said +remainder. Even on the great day, the day of the Annual Inspection, this +division was maintained and the "remainder" were marched off to the +other side of the wood adjacent to the Camp, some couple of hours before +the expected arrival of the General, who would come out by train. + +The arrangement was that the horses of the General and the Brigade-Major +should await those officers at the camp station, and that, on arrival, +they would be mounted by their owners who would then ride to the camp, a +furlong distant. Near the camp a mounted orderly would meet the General +and escort him to the spot where the battalion, with Colonel Dearman at +its head, would be drawn up for his inspection. + +A large bungalow, used as the Officers' Mess, a copse, and a hillock +completely screened the spot used as the battalion parade-ground, from +the view of one approaching the Camp, and the magnificent sight of the +Gungapur Fusiliers under arms would burst upon him only when he rounded +the corner of a wall of palms, cactus, and bamboos, and entered by a +narrow gap between it and a clump of dense jungle. + + * * * * * + +General Murger was feeling distinctly bad as he sat on the edge of his +bed and viewed with the eye of disfavour the _choti hazri_[51] set forth +for his delectation. + + [51] "Little presence," early breakfast, _petit déjeuner_. + +As he intended to inspect the Volunteers in the early morning and +return to a mid-day breakfast, the _choti hazri_ was substantial, though +served on a tray in his bedroom. + +The General yawned, rubbed his eyes and grunted. + +"Eggs be demmed," said he. + +"Toast be demmed," he said. + +"Tea be demmed," he shouted. + +"_Paté de fois gras_ be demmed," shouted he. + +"Jobler! Bring me a bottle of beer," he roared. + +"No, bring me a brandy-cocktail," roared he. + +For the brandy-cocktail the General felt better for a time but he +wished, first, that his hand would not shake in such a way that +hair-brushing was difficult and shaving impossible; secondly, that the +prevailing colour of everything was not blue; thirdly, that he did not +feel giddy when he stood up; fourthly, that his head did not ache; +fifthly, that his mouth would provide some other flavour than that of a +glue-coated copper coin; sixthly, that things would keep still and his +boots cease to smile at him from the corner; seventhly, that he had not +gone to the St. Andrew's dinner last night, begun on _punch à la +Romaine_, continued on neat whisky in _quaichs_ and finished on port, +liqueurs, champagne and haphazard brandy-and-sodas, whisky-and-sodas, +and any old thing that was handy; and eighthly, that he had had a quart +of beer instead of the brandy-cocktail for _choti hazri_. + +But that could easily be remedied by having the beer now. The General +had the beer and soon wished that he hadn't, for it made him feel very +bad indeed. + +However, a man must do his dooty, ill or well, and when the +Brigade-Major sent up to remind the General that the train went at +seven, he was answered by the General himself and a hint that he was +officious. During the brief train-journey the General slumbered. + +On mounting his horse, the General was compelled to work out a little +sum. + +If one has four fingers there must be three inter-finger spaces, eh? +Granted. Then how the devil are four reins to go into three places +between four fingers, eh? Absurd idea, an' damsilly. However, till the +matter was referred to the War Office and finally settled, one could put +two reins between two fingers or pass one outside the lill' finger, +what? But the General hated compromises.... The mounted orderly met the +General, saluted and directed him to the entrance to the tree-encircled +camp and parade-ground. + +At the entrance, the General, leading, reined in so sharply as to throw +his horse on its haunches--his mouth fell open, his mottled face went +putty-coloured, and each hair that he possessed appeared to bristle. + +He uttered a deep groan, rubbed his eyes, emitted a yell, wheeled round +and galloped for dear life, with a cry, nay a scream, of "_I've got 'em +at last_," followed by his utterly bewildered but ever-faithful +Brigade-Major, who had seen nothing but foliage, scrub, and cactus. To +Gungapur the General galloped without drawing rein, took to his bed, +sent for surgeon and priest--and became a teetotaller. + +And what had he seen? + +The affair is wrapped in mystery. + +The Brigade-Major says nothing because he knows nothing, as it happens, +and the Corps declared it was never inspected. Father Ignatius knows +what the General saw, or thinks he saw, and so does the Surgeon-General, +but neither is in the habit of repeating confessions and confidences. +What Jobler, at the keyhole, understood him to say he had seen, or +thought he had seen, is not to be believed. + +Judge of it. + +"I rode into the dem place and what did I behold? A dem pandemonium, +Sir, a pantomime--a lunatic asylum, Sir--all Hell out for a Bank +Holiday, I tell you. There was a battalion of Red Indians, Negroes, +Esquimaux, Ballet Girls, Angels, Sweeps, Romans, Sailors, Pierrots, +Savages, Bogeymen, Ancient Britons, Bishops, Zulus, Pantaloons, +Beef-eaters, Tramps, Life-Guards, Washerwomen, Ghosts, Clowns and +God-knows-what, armed with jezails, umbrellas, brooms, catapults, pikes, +brickbats, _kukeries_,[52] pokers, clubs, axes, horse-pistols, bottles, +dead fowls, polo-sticks, assegais and bombs. They were commanded by a +Highlander in a bum-bee tartan kilt, top-hat and one sock, with a red +nose a foot long, riding on a rocking horse and brandishing a dem great +cucumber and a tea-tray made into a shield. There was a thundering great +drain-pipe mounted on a bullock-cart and a naked man, painted blue, in a +cocked-hat, laying an aim and firing a penny-pistol down the middle of +it and yelling 'Pip!' + + [52] Ghurka knives. + +"There was a chauffeur in smart livery on an elephant, twirling a +steering-wheel on its neck for dear life, and tooting a big motor-horn.. +There was a fat man in a fireman's helmet and pyjamas, armed with a +peashooter, riding a donkey backwards--and the moke wore two pairs of +trousers!... As I rubbed my poor old eyes, the devil in command howled +'General salaam. Pre_sent_-legs'--and every fiend there fell flat on his +face and raised his right leg up behind--I tell you, Sir, I fled for my +life, and--no more liquor for me." ... + +When ex-Colonel Dearman heard any reference to this mystery he roared +with laughter--but it was the Last Muster of the fine and far-famed +Gungapur Fusiliers, as such. + +The Corps was disbanded forthwith and re-formed on a different basis (of +quality instead of quantity) with Lieutenant-Colonel John Robin +Ross-Ellison, promoted, in command--he having caught the keen eye of +that splendid soldier and gentleman Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur +Barnet, K.C.V.O., K.C.S.I. (G.O.C., XVIth Division), as being the very +man for the job of re-organizing the Corps, and making it worth its +capitation-grant. + +"If I could get Captain Malet-Marsac as Adjutant and a Sergeant-Major of +whom I know (used to be at Duri--man named Lawrence-Smith) I'd undertake +to show you something, Sir, in a year or two," said Lieutenant-Colonel +Ross-Ellison. + +"Malet-Marsac you can certainly have," replied Sir Arthur Barnet. "I'll +speak to your new Brigadier. If you can find your Lawrence-Smith we'll +see what can be done." ... + +And Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison wrote to Sergeant-Major +Lawrence-Smith of the Duri Volunteer Rifles to know if he would like a +transfer upon advantageous terms, and got no reply. + +As it happened, Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison, in very different +guise, had seen Sergeant Lawrence-Smith extricate and withdraw his +officerless company from the tightest of tight places (on the Border) in +a manner that moved him to large admiration. It had been a case of "and +even the ranks of Tuscany" on the part of Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan +Ilderim Dost Mahommed.... Later he had encountered him and Captain +Malet-Marsac at Duri. + + + +§ 3. SERGEANT-MAJOR LAWRENCE-SMITH. + + +Mrs. Pat Dearman was sceptical. + +"Do you mean to tell me that _you_, a man of science, an eminent medical +man, and a soldier, believe in the supernatural?" + +"Well, you see, I'm 'Oirish' and therefore unaccountable," replied +Colonel Jackson (of the Royal Army Medical Corps), fine doctor, fine +scholar, and fine gentleman. + +"And you believe in haunted houses and ghosts and things, do you? +_Well_!" + +The salted-almond dish was empty, and Mrs. Dearman accused her other +neighbour, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison. Having already prepared to meet +and rebut the charge of greediness he made passes over the vessel and it +was replenished. + +"Supernatural!" said she. + +"Most," said he. + +She prudently removed the dish to the far side of her plate--and +Colonel Jackson emptied it. + +Not having prepared to meet the request to replenish the store a second +time, it was useless for Mr. Ross-Ellison to make more passes when +commanded so to do. + +"The usual end of the 'supernatural,'" observed Mrs. Dearman with +contempt. + +"Most usual," said he. + +"More than 'most,'" corrected Mrs. Dearman. "It is the invariable end of +it, I believe. Just humbug and rubbish. It is either an invention, pure +and simple, or else it is perfectly explicable. Don't you think so, +Colonel Jackson?" + +"Not always," said her partner. "Now, will you, first, believe my word, +and, secondly, find the explanation--if I tell you a perfectly true +'supernatural' story?" + +"I'll certainly believe your word, Colonel, if you're serious, and I'll +try and suggest an explanation if you like," replied Mrs. Dearman. + +"Same to me, Mrs. Dearman?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. "I've had +'experiences' too--and can tell you one of them." + +"Same to you, Mr. Ross-Ellison," replied Mrs. Dearman, and added: "But +why only one of them?" + +Mr. Ross-Ellison smiled, glanced round the luxuriously appointed table +and the company of fair women and brave men--and thought of a +far-distant and little-known place called Mekran Kot and of a phantom +cavalry corps that haunted a valley in its vicinity. + +"Only one worth telling," said he. + +"Well,--first case," began Colonel Jackson, "I was once driving past a +cottage on my way home from College (in Ireland), and I saw the old lady +who lived in that cottage come out of the door, cross her bit of garden, +go through a gate, scuttle over the railway-line and enter a fenced +field that had belonged to her husband, and which she (and a good many +other people) believed rightly belonged to her. + +"'There goes old Biddy Maloney pottering about in that plot of ground +again,' thinks I. 'She's got it on the brain since her law-suit.' I knew +it was Biddy, of course, not only because of her coming out of Biddy's +house, but because it was Biddy's figure, walk, crutch-stick, and +patched old cloak. When I got home I happened to say to Mother: 'I saw +poor old Biddy Maloney doddering round that wretched field as I came +along'. + +"'What?' said my mother, 'why, your father was called to her, as she was +dying, hours ago, and she's not been out of her bed for weeks.' When my +father came in, I learned that Biddy was dead an hour before I saw +her--before I left the railway station in fact! What do you make of +that? Is there any 'explanation'?" + +"Some other old lady," suggested Mrs. Dearman. + +"No. There was nobody else in those parts mistakable for Biddy Maloney, +and no other old woman was in or near the house while my father was +there. We sifted the matter carefully. It was Biddy Maloney and no one +else." + +"Auto-suggestion. Visualization on the retina of an idea in the mind. +Optical illusion," hazarded Mrs. Dearman. + +"No good. I hadn't realized I was approaching Biddy Maloney's cottage +until I saw her coming out of it and I certainly hadn't thought of Biddy +Maloney until my eye fell upon her. And it's a funny optical illusion +that deceives one into seeing an old lady opening gates, crossing +railways and limping away into fenced fields." + +"H'm! What was the other case?" asked Mrs. Dearman, turning to Mr. +Ross-Ellison. + +"That happened here in India at a station called Duri, away in the +Northern Presidency, where I was then--er--living for a time. On the day +after my arrival I went to call on Malet-Marsac to whom I had letters of +introduction--political business--and, as he was out, but certain to +return in a minute or two from Parade, I sat me down in a comfortable +chair in the verandah----" + +"And went to sleep?" interrupted Mrs. Dearman. + +'"I _nevah_ sleep,'" quoted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and I had no time, if any +inclination. Scarcely indeed had I seated myself, and actually while I +was placing my _topi_ on an adjacent stool, a lady emerged from a +distant door at the end of the verandah and walked towards me. I can +tell you I was mighty surprised, for not only was Captain Malet-Marsac a +lone bachelor and a misogynist of blameless life, but the lady looked as +though she had stepped straight out of an Early Victorian +phonograph-album. She had on a crinoline sort of dress, a deep lace +collar, spring-sidey sort of boots, mittens, and a huge cameo brooch. +Also she had long ringlets. Her face is stamped on my memory and I +could pick her out from a hundred women similarly dressed, or her +picture from a hundred others...." + +"What did you do?" asked Mrs. Dearman, whose neglected ice-pudding was +fast being submerged in a pink lake of its own creation. + +"Do? Nothing. I grabbed my _topi_, stood up, bowed--and looked silly." + +"And what did the lady do?" + +"Came straight on, taking no notice whatsoever of me, until she reached +the steps leading into the porch and garden.... She passed down these +and out of my sight.... That is the plain statement of an actual fact. +Have you any 'explanation' to offer?" + +"Well--what about a lady staying there, unexpectedly and unbeknownst (to +the station), trying on a get-up for a Fancy Dress Ball. Going as 'My +ancestress' or something?" suggested Mrs. Dearman. + +"Exactly what I told myself, though I _knew_ it was nothing of the +kind.... Well, five minutes later Malet-Marsac rode up the drive and we +were soon fraternizing over cheroots and cold drinks.... As I was +leaving, an idea struck me, and I saw a way to ask a question--which was +burning my tongue,--without being too rudely inquisitive. + +"'By the way,' said I, 'I fear I did not send in the right number of +visiting cards, but they told me there was no lady here, so I only sent +in one--for you.' + +"'There _is_ no lady here,' he replied, eyeing me queerly. 'What made +you think you had been misinformed?' + +"'Well,' said I bluntly, 'a lady came out of the end room just now, +walked down the verandah, and went out into the garden. You'd better +see if anything is missing as she's not an inhabitant!' + +"'No--there won't be anything missing,' he replied. 'Did she wear a +crinoline and a general air of last century?' + +"'She did,' said I. + +"'Our own private ghost,' was the answer--and it was the sort of +statement I had anticipated. Now I solemnly assure you that at that time +I had never heard, read, nor dreamed that there was a 'ghost' in this +bungalow, nor in Duri--nor in the whole Northern Presidency for that +matter.... + +"'What's the story?' I asked, of course. + +"'Mutiny. 1857,' said Malet-Marsac. 'Husband shot on the parade-ground. +She got the news and marched straight to the spot. They cut her in +pieces as she held his body in her arms. Lots of people have seen +her--anywhere between that room and the parade-ground.' + +"'Then you have to believe in ghosts--in Duri, or how do you account for +it?' I asked. + +"'I don't bother my head,' he replied. 'But I have seen that poor lady a +good many times. And no one told me a word about her until after I had +seen her.'" + +And then Mrs. Dearman suddenly rose, as her hostess "caught" the +collective female eye of the table. + +"Was all that about the 'ghosts' of the old Irishwoman and the Early +Victorian Lady true, you fellows?" asked John Bruce, the Professor of +Engineering, after coffee, cigars and the second glass of port had +reconciled the residue or sediment to the departure of the sterner sex. + +"Didn't you hear me say my story was true?" replied Colonel Jackson +brusquely. "It was absolutely and perfectly true." + +"Same here," added Mr. Ross-Ellison. + +"Then on two separate occasions you two have seen what you can only +believe to be the ghosts of dead people?" + +"On one occasion I have, without any possibility of error or doubt, seen +the ghost of a dead person," said Colonel Jackson. + +"Have you ever come across any other thoroughly substantiated cases of +ghost-seeing--cases which have really convinced you, Colonel?" queried +Mr. Ross-Ellison--being deeply interested in the subject by reason of +queer powers and experiences of his own. + +"Yes. Many in which I fully believe, and one about which I am _certain_. +A very interesting case--and a very cruel tragedy." + +"Would you mind telling me about it?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. + +"Pleasure. More--I'll give you as interesting and convincing a 'human +document' about it as ever you read, if you like." + +"I shall be eternally grateful," replied the other. + +"It was a sad and sordid business. The man, whose last written words +I'll give you to read, was a Sergeant-Major in the Volunteer Rifles +(also at Duri where I was stationed, as you know) and he was a gentleman +born and bred, poor chap." ["Lawrence-Smith," murmured Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison with an involuntary movement of surprise. His eyebrows rose +and his jaw fell.] "Yes, he was that rare bird a gentleman-ranker who +remained a gentleman and a ranker--and became a fine soldier. He called +himself Lawrence-Smith and owned a good old English name that you'd +recognize if I mentioned it--and you'd be able to name some of his +relatives too. He was kicked out of Sandhurst for striking one of the +subordinate staff under extreme provocation. The army was in his blood +and bones, and he enlisted." + +"Excuse me," interrupted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "you speak of this +Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith in the past tense. Is he dead then?" + +"He is dead," replied Colonel Jackson. "Did you know him?" + +"I believe I saw him at Duri," answered Mr. Ross-Ellison with an +excellent assumption of indifference. "What's the story?" + +"I'll give you his own tale on paper--let me have it back--and, mind +you, every single word of it is Gospel truth. The man was a _gentleman_, +an educated, thoughtful, sober chap, and as sane as you or I. I got to +know him well--he was in hospital, with blood-poisoning from +panther-bite, for a time--and we became friends. Actual friends, I mean. +Used to play golf with him. (You remember the Duri Links.) In mufti, +you'd never have dreamed for a moment that he was not a Major or a +Colonel. Army life had not coarsened him in the slightest, and he kept +some lounge-suits and mess-kit by Poole. Many a good Snob of my +acquaintance has left my house under the impression that the +Lawrence-Smith he had met there, and with whom he had been +hail-fellow-well-met, was his social equal or superior. + +"He simply was a refined and educated gentleman and that's all there is +about it. Well--you'll read his statement--and, as you read, you may +tell yourself that I am as convinced of its truth as I am of anything in +this world.... He was dead when I got to him. + +"The stains, on the backs of some of the sheets and on the front of the +last one, are--blood stains...." + +And at this point their host suggested the propriety of joining the +ladies.... + +Colonel Jackson gave Mr. Ross-Ellison a "lift" in his powerful motor as +far as his bungalow, entered, and a few minutes later emerged with a +long and fat envelope. + +"Here you are," said he. "I took it upon myself to annex the papers as I +was his friend. Let's have 'em back. No need for me to regard them as +'private and confidential' so far as I can see, poor chap. Good-night." + +Having achieved the haven of loose Pathan trousers and a muslin shirt +(worn over them) in the privacy of his bed-room, Mr. Ross-Ellison, +looking rather un-English, sat on a camp-cot (he never really liked +chairs) and read, as follows, from a sheaf of neatly-written (and +bloodstained) sheets of foolscap. + + * * * * * + +I have come to the point at which I decide to stop. I have had enough. +But I should like to ask one or two questions. + +1. Why has a man no right to quit a world in which he no longer desires +to live? 2. Why should Evil be allowed to triumph? 3. Why should people +who cannot see spirit forms be so certain that such do not exist, when +none but an ignorant fool argues, "I believe in what I can see"? + +With regard to the first question I maintain that a man has a perfect +right to "take" the life that was "given" him (without his own consent +or desire), provided it is not an act of cowardice nor an evasion of +just punishment or responsibility. I would add--provided also that he +does not, in so doing, basely desert his duty, those who are in any way +dependent on him, or those who really love him. + +I detest that idiotic phrase "while of unsound mind". I am as sound in +mind as any man living, but because I end an unbearable state of +affairs, and take the only step I can think of as likely to give me +peace--I shall be written down mad. Moreover should I fail--in my +attempt to kill myself (which I shall not) I should be prosecuted as a +criminal! + +To me, albeit I have lived long under strict discipline and regard true +discipline as the first essential of moral, physical, mental, and social +training, to me it seems a gross and unwarrantable interference with the +liberty of the individual--to deny him sufficient captaincy of his soul +for him to be free to control it at the dictates of his conscience, and +to keep it Here or to send it There as may seem best. Surely the +implanted love of life and fear of death are sufficient safeguards +without any legislation or insolent arrogant interference between a man +and his own ego? Anyhow, such are my views, and in perfect soundness of +mind and body, after mature reflection and with full confidence in my +right so to do, I am about to end my life here. + +As to the second question, "Why should Evil be allowed to triumph?" I +confess that my mind cannot argue in a circle and say, "You are born +full of Original Sin, and if you sin you are Damned"--a vicious circle +drawn for me by the gloomy, haughty, insincere and rather unintelligent +young gentleman whom I respectfully salute as Chaplain, and who regards +me and every other non-commissioned soldier as a Common, if not Low, +person. + +He would not even answer my queries by means of the good old loop-hole, +"It is useless to appeal to Reason if you cannot to Faith" and so beg +the question. He said that things _were_ because the Lord said they +were, and that it was impious to doubt it. More impious was it, I +gathered, to doubt him, and to allude to Criticisms he had never read. + +His infallible "proof" was "It is in the Bible". + +Possibly I shall shortly know why an Omnipotent, Omniscient, Impeccable +Deity allows this world to be the Hell it is, even if there be no actual +Hell for the souls of his errant Creatures (in spite of the statements +of the Chaplain who appears to have exclusive information on the +subject, inaccessible to laymen, and to rest peacefully assured of a +Real Hell for the wicked,--nonconforming, and vulgar). + +At present I cannot understand and I do not know--though I am informed +and infused with a burning and reverent desire to understand and to +know--why Evil should be allowed to triumph, as in my own case, as well +as in those of millions of others, it does. And thirdly, why does the +man who would never deny beauty in a poem or picture because he failed +to see it while others did, deny that immaterial forms of the dead +exist, because he has never seen one, though others have? + +I know of so many many men who would blush to be called +"I-believe-what-I-see men," who yet laugh to scorn the bare idea of the +materialization and visualization of visitants from the spirit world, +because they have never seen one. I have so often met the argument, "The +ghost of a man I might conceive--but I can _not_ conceive the appearance +of the ghost of a pair of trousers or of a top-hat," offered as though +it were unanswerable. Surely the spirit, aura, shade, ghost, soul, +ego--what you will--can permeate and penetrate and pervade clothing and +other matter as well as flesh? + +Well, once again, I do not know,--and yet I have seen, not once +but repeatedly, not by moonlight in a churchyard, but under the +Indian sun on a parade-ground, the ghost of a man _and of all his +accoutrements,--of a rifle, of a horse and all a horse's trappings_. + +I have been a teetotaller for years, I have never had sunstroke and I am +as absolutely sane as ever a man was. + +And further I am in no sense remorseful, repentant, or "dogged by the +spectre of an evil deed". + +I killed Burker intentionally. Were he alive again I would kill him +again. I punished him myself because the law could not punish him as he +deserved, and I in no way regret or deplore my just and judicial action. +There are deeds a gentleman must resent and punish--with the extreme +penalty. No, it is in no sense a case of the self-tormented wretch +driven mad by the awful hallucinations of his guilty, unhinged mind. I +am no haunted murderer pursued by phantoms and illusions, believing +himself always in the presence of his victim's ghost. + +All people who have read anything, have read of the irresistible +fascination that the scene of the murder has for the murderer, of the +way in which the victim "haunts" the slayer, and of how the truth that +"murder will out" is really based on the fact that the murderer is his +own most dangerous accuser by reason of his life of terror, remorse, and +terrible hallucination. + +My case is in no wise parallel. + +I am absolutely without fear, regret, remorse, repentance, dread or +terror in the matter of my killing Sergeant Burker. Exactly how and why +I killed him, and how and why I am about to kill myself, I will now set +forth, without the slightest exaggeration, special pleading or any other +deviation from the truth.... + +I am to my certain knowledge the eighth consecutive member of my family, +in the direct line, to follow the profession of arms, but am the first +to do so without bearing a commission. My father died young in the rank +of Captain, my grandfather led his own regiment in the Crimea, my +great-grandfather was a Lieutenant-General, and, if I told you my real +name, you could probably state something that he did at Waterloo. + +I went to Sandhurst and I was expelled from Sandhurst--very rightly and +justly--for an offence, or rather the culminating offence of a series of +offences, that were everything but mean, dishonest or underhand. I was +wild, hasty, undisciplined and I was lost for want of a father to thrash +me as a boy, and by possession of a most loving and devoted mother who +worshipped, spoiled--and ruined me. + +I enlisted under an assumed name in my late father's (and +grandfather's) old Regiment of Foot and quickly rose to the rank of +Sergeant-Major. + +I might have had a commission in South Africa but I decided that I +preferred ruling in hell to serving in heaven, and declined to be a +grey-haired Lieutenant and a nuisance to the Officers' Mess of the Corps +I would not leave until compelled. + +In time I _was_ compelled and I became Sergeant-Major of the Volunteer +Rifle Corps here and husband of a--well--_de mortuis nil nisi bonum_. + +Why I married I don't know. + +The English girl of the class from which soldiers are drawn never +attracted me in the very least, and I simply could not have married one, +though a paragon of virtue and compendium of housewifely qualities. + +Admirable and pretty as Miss Higgs, Miss Bloggs, or Miss Muggins might +be, my youthful training prevented my seeing beyond her fringe, +finger-nails, figure, and aspirates, to her solid excellences;--and from +sergeants'-dances I returned quite heart-whole and still unplighted to +the Colonel's cook. But Dolores De Souza was different. + +There was absolutely nothing to offend the most fastidious taste in her +speech, appearance, or manners. She was convent-bred, accomplished, +refined, gentle, worthless and wicked. The good Sisters of the Society +of the Broken Heart had polished the exterior of the Eurasian orphan +very highly--but the polish was a thin veneer on very cheap and +unseasoned wood. + +It is a strange fact that, while I could respect the solid virtues of +the aspirateless Misses Higgs, Bloggs or Muggins, I could never have +married one of them; yet, while I knew Dolores to be a heartless flirt, +and more than suspected her to be of most unrigid principle, I was +infatuated with her dark beauty, her grace, her wiles and witchery--and +asked her to become my wife. + +The good Sisters of the Society of the Broken Heart had taught Dolores +to sing beautifully, to play upon the piano and the guitar, to +embroider, to paint mauve roses on pink tambourines and many other +useful arts, graces and accomplishments--but they had not taught her +_practical_ morality nor anything of cooking, marketing, plain sewing, +house-cleaning or anything else of house-keeping. However, having been +bred as I had been bred, I could take the form and let the substance go, +accept the shapely husks and shout not for the grain, and prefer a +pretty song, and a rose in black hair over a shell-like ear, to a square +meal. I fear the average Sergeant-Major would have beaten Dolores within +a week of matrimony, but I strove to make loss, discomfort, and +disappointment a discipline,--and music, silk dresses and daintiness an +aesthetic re-training to a barrack-blunted mind. + +In justice to Dolores I should make it clear that she was not of the +slatternly, dirty, lazy, half-breed type that pigs in a _peignoir_ from +twelve to twelve and snores again from midnight to midday. She was trim +and dainty, used good perfume or none, rose early and went in the +garden, loathed cheap and showy trash whether in dress, jewellery, or +furniture; and was incapable of wearing fine shoes over holey stockings +or a silk gown over dirty linen. No--there was nothing to offend the +fastidious about Dolores, but there was everything to offend the good +house-keeper and the moralist. + +Frequently she would provide no dinner in order that we might be +compelled to dine in public at a restaurant or a hotel, a thing she +loved to do, and she would often send out for costly sweets and pastry, +drink champagne (very moderately, I admit), and generally behave as +though she were the wife of a man of means. + +And she was an arrant, incorrigible, shameless flirt. + +Well--I do not know that a virtuous vulgar dowd is preferable to a +wicked winsome witch of refined habits and person, and I should probably +have gone quietly on to bankruptcy without any row or rupture, but for +Burker. Having been bred in a "gentle" home I naturally took the +attitude of "as you please, my dear Dolores" and refrained from bullying +when quiet indication of the inevitable end completely failed. Whether +she intended to act in a reasonable manner and show some wifely traits +when my £250 of legacy and savings was quite dissipated I do not know. +Burker came before that consummation. + +A number of gentlemen joined the Duri Volunteer Corps and formed a +Mounted Infantry troop, and, though I am a good horseman, I was not +competent to train the troop, as I had never enjoyed any experience of +mounted military work of any kind. So Sergeant Burker, late of the 54th +Lancers, was transferred to Duri as Instructor of the Mounted Infantry +Troop. Naturally I did what I could to make him comfortable and, till +his bungalow was furnished after a fashion, gave him our spare room. + +Sergeant Barker was the ideal Cavalryman and the ideal breaker of +hearts,--hearts of the Mary-Ann and Eliza-Jane order. + +He was a black-haired, blue-eyed Irishman with a heart as black as his +hair, and language as blue as his eye--a handsome, plausible, selfish, +wicked devil with scarcely a virtue but pride and high courage. I +disliked him at first sight, and Dolores fell in love with him equally +quickly, I am sure. + +I don't think he had a solitary gentlemanly instinct. + +Being desirous of learning Mounted Infantry work, I attended all his +drills, riding as troop-leader, and, between close attention to him and +close study of the drill-book, did not let the gentlemen in the ranks +know that, in the beginning, I knew as little about it as they did. + +And an uncommonly good troop he soon made of it, too. + +Of course it was excellent material, all good riders and good shots, and +well horsed. + +Burker and I were mounted by the R.H.A. Battery here, and the three +drills we held, weekly, were seasons of delight to a horse-lover like +myself. + +Now the horse I had was a high-spirited, powerful animal, and he +possessed the trait, very common among horses, of hating to be pressed +behind the saddle. Turning to look behind while "sitting-easy" one day I +rested my right hand on his back behind the saddle and he immediately +lashed out furiously with both hind legs. I did not realize for the +moment what was upsetting him--but quickly discovered that I had only to +press his back to send his hoofs out like stones from a sling. I then +remembered other similar cases and that I had also read of this curious +fact about horses--something to do with pressure on the kidneys I +believe. + +One day Burker was unexpectedly absent and I took the drill, finding +myself quite competent and _au fait_. + +The same evening I went to my wife's wardrobe, she being out, to try and +find the keys of the sideboard. I knew they frequently reposed in the +pocket of her dressing-gown. + +In the said pocket they were--and so was a letter in the crude large +handwriting of Sergeant Burker. + +I did not read it, but I did not see the necessity of a correspondence +between my wife and such a man as I knew Sergeant Burker to be. They met +often enough, in all conscience, to say what they might have to say to +each other. + +At dinner I remarked casually: "I shouldn't enter into a correspondence +with Burker if I were you, Dolly. His reputation isn't over savoury +and--" but, before I could say more, my wife was literally screaming +with rage, calling me "Spy," "Liar," "Coward," and demanding to know +what I insinuated and of what I accused her. I replied that I had +accused her of nothing at all, and merely offered advice in the matter +of correspondence with Burker. I explained how I had come to find the +letter and stated that I had not read it. + +"Then how do you know that we--" she began, and suddenly stopped. + +"That you--what?" I inquired. + +"Nothing," she said. + +At the next Sergeants' Dance at the Institute I did not like Burker's +manner to my wife at all. It was--well, amorous, and tinged with a shade +of proprietorship. I distinctly heard him call her "Dolly," and equally +distinctly saw an expressively affectionate look in her eyes as he +hugged her in the waltzes--whereof they indulged in no less than five. + +My position was awkward and unpleasant. I loathe a row or a scene +unspeakably--though I delight in fighting when that pastime is +legitimate--and I was brought into daily contact with the ruffian and I +disliked him intensely. + +I was very averse from the course of forbidding him the house and thus +insulting my wife by implication--since she obviously enjoyed his +society--and descending to pit myself against the greasy cad in a +struggle for a woman's favour, and that woman my own wife. Nor could I +conscientiously take the line of, "If she desires to go to the Devil let +her," for a man has as much responsibility for his wife as for his +children, and it is equally his duty to guide and control her and them. +Women may vote and may legislate for men--but on men they will ever +depend and rely. + +No, the position of carping, jealous husband was one that I could not +fill, and I determined to say nothing, do nothing and be +watchful--watchful, that is, to avoid exposing her to temptation. I did +my best, but I was away from home a good deal, visiting the out-station +detachments of the Corps. + +Then, one day, the wretched creature I called "butler" came to me with +an air of great mystery and said: "Sahib, Sergeant Burker Sahib sending +Mem Sahib bundle of flowers and _chitti_[53] inside and diamond ring +yesterday. His boy telling me and I seeing. He often coming here too +when Sahib out. Both wicked peoples." + + [53] Note. + +I raised my hand to knock his lies down his throat--and dropped it. They +were not lies, I knew, and the fellow had been faithful to me for many +years and--the folly of childish human vanity--I felt he knew I was a +"gentleman," and I liked him for it. + +I paid him his wages then and there, gave him a present and a good +testimonial and discharged him. He wept real tears and shook with sobs +of grief--easy grief, but very genuine. + +When Dolores came home from the Bandstand I said quietly: "Show me the +jewellery Burker sent you, Dolly. I am very much in earnest, so don't +bluster." + +She seemed about to faint and looked very frightened--perhaps my face +was more expressive than a gentleman's should be. + +"It was only a little thing for my birthday," she whined. "Can't I keep +it? Don't be a tyrant or a fool." + +"Your next birthday or your last?" I asked. "Please get it at once. +We'll settle matters quietly and finally." + +I fear the poor girl had visions of the doorstep and a closed door. Two, +perhaps, for I am sure Burker would not have taken her in if I had +turned her out, and she may have thought the same. + +It was a diamond ring, and the scoundrel must have given a couple of +months' pay for it--if he had paid for it at all. I thrust aside the +sudden conviction that Burker's own taste could not have been +responsible for its choice and that it was selected by my wife. + +"Why should he give you this, Dolores?" I asked. "Will you tell me or +must I go to him?" And then she burst into tears and flung herself at my +feet, begging for mercy. + +Mercy! + +_Qui s'excuse s'accuse_. + +What should I do? + +To cast her out was to murder her soul quickly and her body slowly, and +I could foresee her career with prophetic eye and painful clearness. + +And what could the Law do for me? + +Publish our shame and perhaps brand me that wretched thing--the +willingly deceived and complaisant husband. + +What could I do by challenging Burker? + +He was a champion man-at-arms, a fine boxer, and a younger, stronger +man, I should merely experience humiliation and defeat. What _could_ I +do? + +If I said, "Go and live with your Burker," I should be committing a +bigger crime than hers, for if he did take her in, it would not be for +long. + +I sat the night through, pondered the question carefully, looked at it +from all points of view and--decided that Burker must die. Also that he +must not drag me to jail or the scaffold as he went to his doom. If I +shot him and was punished, Dolores would become a--well, as I have said, +her soul would die quickly and her body slowly. I had married Dolores +and I must do what lay in my power to protect Dolores. But I simply +could not kill the hound in some stealthy secret manner and wait for +the footsteps of warrant-armed police for the rest of my life. + +What could I do? Or rather--for the question had narrowed to that--how +could I kill him? + +And as the sun struck upon my eyes at dawn, an idea struck upon my mind. + +I would leave it to Fate and if Fate willed it so, Burker should die. + +_If Burker stood behind my charger, Fate sat with down-turned thumb_. + +I would not seek the opportunity--but, by God, I would take it if it +offered. + +If it did not, I would go to Burker and say to him quietly: "Burker, you +must leave this station at once and never see or communicate with my +wife in any way. Otherwise I have to kill you, Burker--to execute you, +you understand." ... + +A native syce from the Artillery lines led my charger into the little +compound of my tiny bungalow. + +Having buckled on my belt I went out, patted him, and gave him a lump of +sugar. He nuzzled me for more, and, as he did so, I placed my hand on +his back, behind the saddle, and pressed. He lashed out wildly. + +I then trotted across the _maidan_[54] to the Volunteer Headquarters and +parade-ground. + + [54] Plain; level tract of ground. + +Several gentlemen of the Mounted Infantry were waiting about, some +standing by their horses, some getting bandoliers, belts, and rifles, +some cantering their horses round the ground. + +Sergeant Burker strode out of the Orderly Boom. + +"Morning, Smith," said he. "How's the Missus?" + +I looked him in the eye and made no reply. + +He laughed, as jeering, evil, and caddish a laugh as I have ever heard. +I almost forgot my purpose and had actually turned toward the armoury +for a rifle and cartridge when I remembered and controlled my rage. + +If I shot him, then and there, I must go to the scaffold or to jail +forthwith, and Dolores must inevitably go to a worse fate. Had I been +sure that she could have kept straight, Burker would have been shot, +then and there. + +"Fall in," he shouted, but did not mount his horse. + +The gentlemen assembled with their horses and faced him in line, +dismounted, I in front of the centre of the troop. How clearly I can see +every feature and detail of that morning's scene, and hear every word +and sound. + +"Tell off by sections," commanded Burker. + +"One, two, three, four--one, two, three, four...." + +There were exactly six sections. + +"Flanks of sections, proof." + +"Section leaders, proof." + +"Centre man, proof." + +"Prepare to mount." + +"Mount." + +"Sections right." + +"Sections left." + +The last two words were the last words Burker ever spoke. Passing on +foot along the line of mounted men, to inspect saddlery, accoutrements, +and the adjustment of rifle-buckets and slings, he halted immediately +behind me, where I sat on my charger in front of the centre of the +troop. + +I could not have placed him more exactly with my own hands. _Fate sat +with down-pointing thumb_. + +Turning round, as though to look at the troop, I rested my hand on my +horse's back--just behind the saddle--and pressed hard. He lashed out +with both hoofs and Sergeant Burker dropped--and never moved again. + +The base of his skull was smashed like an egg, and his back was broken +like a dry stick.... + +The terrible accident roused wide sympathy with the unfortunate man, the +local reporter used all his adjectives, and a military funeral was given +to the soldier who had died in the execution of his duty. + +On reaching home, after satisfying myself at the Station Hospital that +the man was dead, I said to my poor, pale and red-eyed wife:-- + +"Dolores, Sergeant Burker met with an accident this morning on parade. +He is dead. Let us never refer to him again." + +She fainted. + +I spent that night also in meditation, questioning myself and examining +my soul--with every honest endeavour to be not a self-deceiver. + +I came to the conclusion that I had acted rightly and in the only way in +which a gentleman could act. I had snatched Dolores from his foul +clutches, I had punished him without depriving Dolores of my protection, +and I had avenged the stain on my honour. + +"You have committed a treacherous cowardly murder," whispered the Fiend +in my ear. + +"You are a liar," I replied. "I did not fear the man and I took this +course solely on account of Dolores. I was strong enough to accept this +position--and to risk the accusation of murder, from my conscience, from +the Devil, or from man." + +Any doubt I might otherwise have had was forestalled and inhibited by +the obvious Fate that placed Burker in the one spot favourable to my +scheme of punishment. + +God had willed it? + +God had not prevented it. + +Surely God was consenting unto it.... + +And Dolores? I would forgive her and offer her the choice of remaining +with me or leaving me and receiving a half of my income and +possessions--both alternatives being contingent upon good conduct. + +At dawn I prepared tea for her, and entered our bedroom. Dolores had +wound a towel round her neck, twisted the ends tightly--and suffocated +herself. + +She had been dead for hours.... + +At the police inquiry, held the same day, I duly lied as to the virtues +of the "deceased," and the utter impossibility of assigning any reason +for the rash and deplorable act. The usual smug stereotyped verdict was +pronounced, and, in addition to expressing their belief that the suicide +was committed "while of unsound mind," the officials expressed much +sympathy with the bereaved husband. + +Dolores was buried that evening and I returned to an empty house. + +I believe opinion had been divided as to whether I was callous or +"stunned"--but the sight of her little shoes caused pains in my throat +and eyes. Had Burker been then alive I would have killed him with my +hands--and teeth. Yes, teeth. + +I spent that night in packing every possession and trace of Dolores into +her boxes, and then in trying to persuade myself that I should have +acted differently. + +I could not do so. I had acted for the best--so let God who gave me +free-will, intelligence, conscience and opportunity, approve the deed or +take the blame. + +And let God remember how that opportunity came so convincingly--so +impellingly--and if He would judge me and ask for my defence I would ask +him who sent Burker here, and who placed him on that fatal spot? + +Does God sit only in judgment? + +Does God calmly watch His creatures walking blindfold to the +Pit--struggling to tear away the bandage as they walk? Can He only +judge, and can He never help? + +"_Pray_?" + +Is God a petty-minded "jealous" God to be propitiated like the gods of +the heathen? + +Must we continually ask, or, not asking, not receive? + +And if we know not to ask aright and to demand the best and highest? + +Cannot the well-fed, well-read, well-paid Chaplain give advice? + +"_God knoweth best. Ask unceasingly. Pray always_." + +_Why_?--if. He knows best, is All Merciful, All Powerful? + +"_Praise_?" + +Is God a child, a savage, a woman? Shall I offer adulation that would +sicken _me_. + +"_God is our Father which art in heaven_." + +Would I have my son praise me to my face continually--or at all. Would I +compel him to pester me with demands for what he desired,--good, bad and +indifferent? + +And would I give him what he asked regardless of what was best for +him--or say, "If you ask not, you receive not?" Give me a God finer and +greater and juster and nobler than myself--something higher than the +Chaplain's jealous, capricious, inconsequent and illogical God. +Anthropomorphism! + +Is there a God at all? + +I shall soon know. + +If so-- + + Oh Thou, who man of baser earth didst make + And ev'n with Paradise devised the Snake, + For all the Sin the face of wretched man + Is black with--Man's forgiveness give--and take! + +At dawn I said aloud:-- + +"This Chapter is closed. The story of Burker and Dolores is written. I +may now strive to forget." + +I was wrong. + +Major Jackson of the R.A.M.C. came to see me soon after daylight. He +gave me an opiate and I slept all that day and night. I went on parade +next morning, fresh, calm, and cool--and saw _Burker riding toward the +group of gentlemen who were awaiting the signal to "fall in"_. + +I say I was fresh, calm, and cool. + +I was. + +And there was Burker--looking exactly as in life, save for a slight +nebulosity, a very faint vagueness of outline, and a hint of +transparency. + +I had been instructed by the Adjutant to assume the post of Instructor +(as the end of the Mounted Infantry drill season was near)--and I blew +the "rally" on my whistle as many of the gentlemen were riding about, +and shouted the command: "Fall in". + +Twenty living men and one dead faced me, twenty dismounted and one +mounted. I called the corporal in charge of the armoury. + +"How many on parade?" I asked. + +He looked puzzled, counted, and said:-- + +"Why--twenty, ain't there?" + +I numbered the troop. + +Twenty--and Burker. + +"Tell off by sections." + +Five sections--and Burker. + +"Sections right." + +A column of five sections--and Burker, in the rear. + +I called out the section-leader of Number One section. + +"Are the sections correctly proved?" I asked, and added: "Put the troop +back in line and tell-off again". + +"Five sections, correct," he reported. + +I held that drill, with five sections of living men, and a single file +of dead, who manoeuvred to my word. + +When I gave the order "With Numbers Three for action dismount," or +"Right-hand men, for action dismount," Burker remained mounted. When I +dismounted the whole troop, Burker remained mounted. Otherwise he +drilled precisely as Number Twenty-one would have drilled in a troop of +twenty-one men. + +Was I frightened? I do not know. + +At first my heart certainly pounded as though it would leap from my +body, and I felt dazed, lost, and shocked. + +I think I _was_ frightened--not of Burker so much as of the unfamiliar, +the unknown, the impossible. + +How would you feel if your piano suddenly began to play of itself? You +would be alarmed and afraid probably, not frightened of the piano, but +of the fact. + +A door could not frighten you--but you would surely be alarmed at its +persistently opening, each time you shut, locked, and bolted it, if it +acted thus. + +Of Burker I had no fear--but I was perturbed by the _fact_ that the dead +could ride with the living. + +When I gave the order "Dismiss" at the end of the parade Burker rode +away, as he had always done, in the direction of his bungalow. + +Returning to my lonely house, I sat me down and pondered this appalling +event that had come like a torrent, sweeping away familiar landmarks of +experience, idea, and belief. I was conscious of a dull anger against +Burker and then against God. + +Why should He allow Burker to haunt me?... + +Why should Evil triumph?... + +_Was_ I haunted? Or was it, after all, but a hallucination--due to +grief, trouble, and the drug of the opiate? + +I sat and brooded until I thought I could hear the voices of Burker and +Dolores in converse. + +This I knew to be hallucination, pure and simple, and I went to see my +friend (if he will let me call him what he is in the truest and highest +sense) Major Jackson of the R.A.M.C. + +He took me for a long ride, kept me to dinner, and manufactured a job +for me--a piece of work that would occupy and tire me. + +He assured me that the Burker affair was pure hallucination and staked +his professional reputation that the image of Burker came upon my retina +from within and not from without. "The shock of the deaths of your wife +and your friend on consecutive days has unhinged you, and very naturally +so," he said. + +Of course I did not tell him that I had killed Burker, though I +should have liked to do so. I felt I had no right to put him in the +position of having to choose between denouncing me and condoning a +murder--compounding a felony. + +Nor did I see any reason for confessing to the Police what I had done +(even though Dolores was dead) and finishing my career on the scaffold. + +One owes something to one's ancestors as well as to oneself. Well, +perhaps it was a hallucination. I would wait. + +At the next drill Burker was present and rode as Number Three in Section +Six. + +As there were twenty-three (living) on parade I ordered Number +Twenty-three to ride as Number Four of his section and leave a blank +file. + +Burker rode in that blank file and drilled so, throughout--save that he +would not dismount. + +Once, as the troop rode in column of sections, I fell to the rear and, +coming up behind, struck with all my might at that slightly nebulous +figure, with its faint vagueness of outline and hint of transparency. + +My heavy cutting-whip whistled--and touched nothing. I was as one who +beats the air. Section Six must have thought me mad.... Twice again the +dead man drilled with the living, and each time I described what +happened to Major Jackson. + +"It is a persistent hallucination," said he; "you must go on leave." + +"I won't run from Burker, nor from a hallucination," I replied. + +Then came the end. + +At the next drill, twenty-one gentlemen were present and Number +Twenty-one, the Sessions Judge of Duri, a Scot, kept staring with looks +of amazement and alarm at Burker, who rode as Number Four on his flank, +making an odd file into a skeleton section. I was certain that he saw +Burker. + +As the gentlemen "dismissed" after parade, the Judge rode up to me and, +with a white face, demanded:-- + +"Who the devil was that rode with me as Number Twenty-four? It was--it +was--like--Sergeant Burker." + +"It _was_ Sergeant Burker, Sir," said I. + +"I knew it was," he replied, and added: "Man, you and I are fey." + +"Will you tell Major Jackson of this, Sir?" I begged. "He knows I have +seen Burker's ghost here before, and tells me it is a hallucination." + +"I'll go and see him now." he replied. "He is an old friend of mine, +and--he's a damned good doctor. Man--you and I are fey." He rode to +where his trap, with its spirited cob, was awaiting him, dismounted and +drove off. + +As everybody knows, Mr. Blake of the Indian Civil Service, Sessions +Judge of Duri, was thrown from his trap and killed. It happened five +minutes after he had said to me, with a queer look in his eyes, and a +queer note in his voice, "Man! you and I are fey".... So it is no +hallucination and I am haunted by Burker's ghost. Very good. I will +fight Burker on his own ground. + +My ghost shall haunt Burker's ghost--or I shall be at peace. + +Though the religion of the Chaplain has failed me, the religion of my +Mother, taught to me at her knee, has implanted in me an ineradicable +belief in the ultimate justice of things, and the unquenchable hope of +"somehow good". + +I am about to go before my Maker or to obliteration and oblivion. If the +former, I am prepared to say to Him: "You made me a man. I have played +the man. I look to you for justice, and that is--compensation and not +'forgiveness'. Much less is it punishment. You have treated me ill and +given me no help. You have bestowed free-_will_ without free-_dom_. +Compensate me or know Yourself unjust." + +To a servant or child who spoke so to me and with equal reason, I would +reply:-- + +"Compensation is due to you and not 'forgiveness'--much less +punishment," and I would act accordingly.... Why should I cringe to +God--and why should He love a cringer more than I do? + +God help Men and Women--and such Children as are doomed to grow up to be +Men and Women. + +As I finish this sentence I shall put my revolver in my mouth and seek +Justice or Peace.... + + * * * * * + +"Bad luck," murmured Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison, "that was the man of all +men for me! A gentleman, wishful to die.... That is the sort that _does_ +things when swords are out and bullets fly. Seeks a gory grave and gets +a V.C. instead. He and Mike Malet-Marsac and I would have put a polish +on the new Gungapur Fusiliers.... Rough luck...." + +He was greatly disappointed, for his experiences in the bazaars, +market-places, secret-meeting houses, and the bowers of Hearts' +Delights,--the Rialtos of Gungapur (he disguised, now as an Afghan +horse-dealer, now as a sepoy, now as a Pathan money-lender, again as a +gold-braided, velvet waistcoated, swaggering swashbuckler from the +Border)--his experiences were disquieting, were such as to make him push +on preparations, perfect plans, and work feverishly at the "polishing" +of his re-organized Corps. + +Also the reports of his familiar, a Somali yclept Moussa Isa, were +disquieting, disturbing to a lover of the Empire who foresaw the Empire +at war in Europe. + +Moussa Isa also knew that there was talk among Pathan horse-dealers and +_budmashes_ of the coming of one Ilderim the Weeper, a mullah of great +influence and renown, and talk, moreover, among men of other race, of a +Great Conspiracy. + +Moussa was bidden to take service as a mill-coolie in one of Colonel +Dearman's mills, and to report on the views and attitude of the +thousands who laboured therein. This he did and there learnt many +interesting facts. + + + +§ 4. MR. AND MRS. CORNELIUS GOSLING-GREEN. + + +It was Sunday--and therefore John Bruce, the Engineering College +Professor, was exceptionally busy. On a-week-day he only had to deliver +his carefully prepared lectures, interview students, read and return +essays, take the chair at meetings of college societies, coach one or +two "specialists," superintend the games on the college gymkhana ground, +interview seekers after truth and perverters of the same, write letters +on various matters of college business, visit the hostel, set question +papers and correct answers, attend common-room meetings, write articles +for the college magazine and papers for the Scientific, Philosophical, +Shakespearean, Mathematical, Debating, Literary, Historical, Students', +Old Boys', or some other "union" and, if God willed, get a little +exercise and private study at his beloved "subject" and invention, +before preparing for the morrow. + +On Sundays, the thousand and one things crowded out of the programme +were to be cleared up, his home mail was to be written, and then arrears +of work had to be attacked. + +At four o'clock he addressed Roy Pittenweem and Mrs. MacDougall, his +dogs, and said:-- + +"There's a bloomin' bun-snatch somewhere, you fellers, don't it?". +Though a Professor and one of the most keen and earnest workmen in +India, his own college blazers were not quite worn out, and Life, the +great Artist, had not yet done much sketching on the canvas of his +face--in spite of his daily contact with the Science Professor, William +Greatorex Bonnett, B.A., widely known as the Mad Hatter, the greatest +of whose many great achievements is his avoidance of death at the hands +of his colleagues and acquaintance. + +Receiving no reply beyond a wink and a waggle, he dropped his blue +pencil, rose, and went to the table sacred to litter; and from a wild +welter of books, pipes, papers, golf-balls, hats, cigar-boxes, +dog-collars, switches, cartridges and other sediment, he extracted a +large gilt-edged card and studied it without enthusiasm or bias. + +"Large coat of arms," he murmured--"patience--no--a pay-sheet on a +monument asking for time; item a hand, recently washed; ditto, a dickey +bird--possibly pigeon plucked proper or gull argent; guinea-pig +regardant and expectant; supporters, two bottliwallahs rampant. Crest, a +bum-boat flottant, and motto '_Cinq-cento-percentum_'. All done in gold. +Likewise in gold and deboshed gothic, the legend 'Sir and Lady Fuggilal +Potipharpar, At Home. To meet Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P. +Five p.m. C.T.' ... Now what the devil, Roy Pittenweem, _is_ C.T.? Is it +'Curious Time' or 'Cut for Trumps' or a new decoration for gutter +plutocrats? It _might_ mean 'Calcutta Time,' mightn't it, as the +egregious Phossy and his gang would have it? Well, we'll go and look +upon the Cornmealious Gosling-Green, M.P.'s, and chasten our soul from +sinful pride--ain't it, Mrs. MacDougall?" and the Professor strolled +across to the Sports Club for a cup of tea. + +In the midst of cheery converse with a non-moral and unphilosophic +Professor of Moral Philosophy, a fat youth of the name of Augustus +Grobble whose life was one long picturesque pose, he sprang to his feet, +remarking: "I go, Augustus, I am bidden to behold some prize +Gosling-Greens or something, at 5 p.m., D.V. or D.T. or C.T. or L.S.D. +or otherwise. Perhaps it was S.T. which means 'Standard Time,' and as I +said, I go, Augustus." + +Augustus Grobble was understood to return thanks piously.... + +"Taxi, Sahib?" inquired the messenger-boy at the door. + +"Go to," said the Professor. "Also go call me a _tikka-gharri_[55] and +select a _very_ senior horse, blind, angular, withered, wilted, and +answering to the name, most obviously, of Skin-and-Grief--lest I be +taken by the Grizzly-Goslings for a down-trodden plutocrat and a +brother--and not seen for the fierce and 'aughty oppressor that I am." + + [55] Public conveyance. + +"Sahib?" + +"_Tikka-gharri lao_,[56] you lazy little 'ound! Don't I speak plain +English?" The Professor made it a practice to "rot" when not +working--hoping thus even in India to retain sanity and the broad and +wholesome outlook, for he was a very short-tempered person, easily +roused to dangerous wrath. + + [56] Bring. + +A carriage, upholding a pony who, in return, spasmodically moved the +carriage which gave evidence of having been where moths break through +and steal, lumbered into the Club garden, and the Professor, imploring +the jehu not to let the pony "die on him" in the Hibernian sense of the +expression, gingerly entered. + +"Convey me to the gilded Potipharparian 'alls, Arthur," said he. + +"Sahib?" + +"Why _don't_ you listen? _Palangur Hill ki pas_[57] And don't forget +you've to get me there at 5 p.m. C.T. or S.T.--I leave it to you, +partner." + + [57] To. + +On arrival, the Professor concluded that if he had arrived at 5 p.m. +C.T. he ought to have come at 5 p.m. S.T., or vice versa; as what he +termed 'the show' was evidently about over. Fortune favours all sorts of +people. + +His hostess, who looked as though she had come straight out of the Bible +_via_ Bond Street, and his host, who looked as though he had never come +out of Petticoat Lane at all, both accused him of being unable to work +out the problem of "Find Calcutta Time given the Standard Time," and he +professed to be proud to be able to acknowledge the truth of the +compliment. + +"Come and be presented to Meester and Meesers Carneelius Garsling-Green, +M.P.," said the lady, waddling before him; and her husband echoed:-- + +"Oah, yess. Come and be presented to Meester and Meesers +Garsling-Green," waddling after him. + +Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., proved to be a tall, drooping, +melancholy creature, with "Dundreary" whiskers, reach-me-down suit of +thick cloth, wrong kind of tie, thickish boots, and no presence. Without +"form" and void. + +Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green was a Severe Person, tiny, hard-featured +and even more garrulous than her husband, who watched her anxiously and +nervously as he answered any question put in her presence.... + +"And, oh, why, _why_ are not you Mohammedans _loyal_?" said Mrs. +Cornelius Gosling-Green, to a magnificent-looking specimen of the +Mussulman of the old school--stately, venerable, courteous and +honourable--who stood near, looking as though he wondered what the devil +he was doing in that galley. + +Turning from his friend, Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, +a fine Pathan, "Loyal, Madam! _Loyal_! Believe me we Mohammedans are +most intensely and devotedly loyal," he replied. "You have indeed been +misled. Though you are only spending a month in India for collecting the +materials for your book or pamphlet, you must really learn _that_ much. +We Mohammedans are as loyal as the English themselves.--More loyal than +some in fact," he added, with intent. The Pathan smiled meaningly. + +"Ah, that's just it. I mean 'Why aren't you Mohammedans _loyal to poor +India_?'" + +The man turned and left the marquee and the garden without another word. + +"Poor _bleeding_ India," corrected the Professor. + +"And are _you_ a friend and worker for India?" continued the lady, +turning to him and eyeing him with severity. + +"I am. I do my humble possible in my obscure capacity, Mrs. +Grisly-Gosling," he replied. "I _beg_ your pardon, Mrs. +Grossly-Grin----that is--er--Gosling-Green, I _should_ say." + +Be sure your sins will find you out. Through wilful perversion of the +pleasing name the Professor had rendered himself incapable of +enunciating it. + +"And what do _you_ do for India,--write, speak, organize, subscribe or +what?" asked the lady with increasing severity. + +"I work." + +"In what capacity?" + +"I am a professor at the Government Engineering College, here in +Gungapur." + +"O-h-h-h-h! You're one of the overpaid idlers who bolster up the +Bureaucracy and batten on the....'" + +"Allow me to assure you that I neither bolster, batten, nor bureau, Mrs. +Grizzling--I mean _Gosling_ Green. Nor do I talk through my hat. I----" +the Professor was beginning to get angry and to lose control. + +"Perhaps you are one of us in disguise--a Pro-Native?" + +"I am intensely Pro-Native." + +The tall Pathan stared at the Professor. + +"Oh, _good!_ I _beg_ your pardon! Cornelius, this gentleman is a +Government professor and is _with us!_" said this female of the M.P. +species. + +"That's right," gushed the Gosling. "We want a few in the enemy's camp +both to spy out their weakness and to embarrass them. Now about this +University business. I am going to take it up. That history affair now! +_Scandalous!_ I _cannot_ tell you what a wave of indignation swept over +England when that syllabus was drawn up. Nothing truly _Liberal_ about +the whole course, much less Radical. I at once said: '_I_ will see this +righted. _I_ will go to India, and _I_ will beard the....'" + +"I think it was _I_ who said it, Cornelius," remarked his much better +half, coldly. + +"Yes, my dear Superiora, yes. Now with your help I think we can do +something, Professor. Good. This _is_ providential. We shall be able to +embarrass them now! Will you write me----" + +"You are going a little too fast, I think," said the Professor. "I am a +'Pro-Native' and a servant of the Pro-Native Government of India. As +such, I don't think I can be of any service to twenty-one-day visitors +who wish to 'embarrass' the best friends of my friends the Natives, even +supposing I were the sort of gentle Judas you compliment me by imagining +me. I----" + +"You distinctly say you are Pro-Native and then----" + +"I repeat I am intensely Pro-Native, and so are the Viceroy, the +Governors, the entire Civil Service, the Educational Service, the Forest +Service, the P.W.D., the Medical Service, the Army, and every other +Service and Department in India as well as every decent man in India. We +are _all_ Pro-Native, and all doing our best in our respective spheres, +in spite of a deal of ignorant and officious interference and attempted +'embarrassment' at the hands of the self-seeking, the foolish, the +busy-body, the idle--not to mention the vicious. What a _charming_ day +it is. I have so enjoyed the honour of meeting you." + + * * * * * + +"Well, my Scroobious Bird! And have they this day roasted in India such +a Gosling as shall never be put out?" inquired the non-moral and +unphilosophic Professor of Moral Philosophy, a little later. + +"No, my Augustus," was the reply. "It's a quacking little gosling, and +won't lead to any great commotion m the farm-yard. Nasty little +bird--like a _sat-bai_ or whatever they call those appalling things +'seven-sister' birds, aren't they, that chatter and squeak all day." + +"Have a long drink and tell us all about it," replied Mr. Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble. + +"Oh, same old game on the same old stage. Same old players. Leading lady +and gent changed only. Huge great hideous bungalow, like a Goanese +wedding-cake, in a vast garden of symmetrically arranged blue and red +glazed 'art' flower-pots. Lofty room decorated with ancestral portraits +done by Mr. Guzzlebhoy Fustomji Paintwallah; green glass chandeliers and +big blue and white tin balls; mauve carpet with purple azure roses; +wall-paper, bright pink with red lilies and yellow cabbages; immense +mouldy mirrors, and a tin alarm clock. Big crowd of all the fly-blown +rich knaves of the place who have got more than they want out of +Government or else haven't got enough. Only novelty was a splendid +Pathan chap, got-up in English except for the conical cap and puggri. +Extraordinarily like Ross-Ellison, except that he had long black Pathan +hair on his shoulders. Been to England; barrister probably, and seemed +the most viciously seditious of the lot. Silly ignorant Goslings in the +middle saying to Brahmins, 'And you are Muscleman, aren't you, or are +you a Dhobi?' and to Parsis, 'I suppose you High Caste gentlemen have to +bathe _every_ day?' shoving their awful ignorance under the noses of +everybody, and inquiring after the healths of the 'chief wives'. Silly +fatuous geese!--and then talking the wildest piffle about the 'burning +question of the hour' and making the seditious rotters groan at their +ineptitude and folly, until they cheer them up sudden-like with a bit +of dam' treason and sedition they ought to be jailed for. _Jailed_. I +nearly threw a fit when the old geezer, in a blaze of diamonds and +glory, brought up old Phossy and presented him to the Gander, and he +murmured:-- + +"'My _deah_ friend,' as Phossy held on to his paw in transports, 'to +think of their casting _you_ into jail,' and old Mother Potiphar +squeaked: _'Oh, this is not the forger of that name--but the eminent +politeecian'_. But poor Gosly had thought he had been a political +prisoner! Meant no offence. And then some little squirt of an editor +primed him with lies about the University and the new syllabus, and +straightway the Gander tried to get me on the 'embarrass the Government' +lay, and talked as though he knew all about it. 'I'll get some of the +ladies of my committee sent out here as History-lecturers at your +University,' says he. 'They'll teach pure Liberal History and inculcate +true ideas of liberty and self-government.' I wanted to go outside and +be ill. Good old 'Paget M.P.'--takes up a 'Question' and writes a silly +pamphlet on it and thinks he's said the last word.--Written +thousands.--Don't matter so long as he does it in England.--Just the +place for him nowadays.--But when he feels he's shoved out of the +lime-light by a longer-haired Johnny, it's rough luck that he should try +and get back by spending his blooming committee's money coming here and +deludin' the poor seditionist and seducin' your Hatter from his +allegiance to his salt.... Awful old fraud really--no ability whatever. +Came to my college to spout once, in my time. Lord! Still he was a +guest, and we let him go. Run by his missus really, I think. Why can't +she stop at home and hammer windows? They say she went and asked the +Begum of Bhopal to join her in a 'mission and crusade'. Teach the Zenana +Woman and Purdah Lady to Come Forth instead of Bring Forth. Come Forth +and smash windows. Probably true. Silly Goslings. Drop 'em.... What did +you think of our bowling yesterday? With anything like a wicket your +College should be...." + + * * * * * + +Entering his lonely and sequestered bungalow that evening Mir Ilderim +Dost Mahommed changed his Pathan dress for European dining-kit, removed +his beard and wig, and became Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison. After dinner he +wrote to the eminent Cold weather Visitor to India, Mr. Cornelius +Gosling-Green, as follows-- + +"DEAR SIR, + +"As I promised this afternoon, when you graciously condescended to +honour me with your illuminating conversation, I enclose the papers +which I guaranteed would shed some light on certain aspects of Indian +conditions, and which I consider likely to give you food for thought. + +"As I was myself educated in India, was brought up to maturity with +Indian students, and have lived among them in many different places, I +may claim to know something about them. As a class they are gentle, +affectionate, industrious, well-meaning and highly intelligent. They are +the most malleable of human metal, the finest material for the sculptor +of humanity, the most impressionable of wax. In the right hands they can +be moulded to anything, by the right leader led to any height. And +conversely, of them a devil can make fiends. By the wrong leader they +can be led down to any depth. + +"The crying need of India is noble men to make noble men of these fine +impressionable youths. Read the enclosed and take it that the writer +(who wrote this recently in Gungapur Jail) is typical of a large class +of misled, much-to-be-pitied youths, wrecked and ruined and +destroyed--their undoing begun by an unspeakably false and spurious +educational ideal, and completed by the writings, and the spoken words +of heartless unscrupulous scoundrels who use them to their own vile +ends. + +"Read, Sir, and realize how truly noble, useful and beautiful is your +great work of endeavouring to embarrass our wicked Government, to weaken +its prestige here and in England, to encourage its enemies, to increase +discontent and unrest, to turn the thoughts of students to matters +political, and, in short, to carry on the good work of the usual +Self-advertising Visitation M.P. + +"Humbly thanking your Honour, and wishing your Honour precisely the +successes and rewards that your Honour deserves, + +"I remain, + +"The dust of your Honour's feet, + +"ILDERIM DOST MAHOMMED." + +And Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., read as follows:-- + +... And so I am to be hanged by the neck till I am dead, am I? And for a +murder which I never committed, and in the perpetration of which I had +no hands? Is it, my masters? I trow so. But I can afford to spit--for I +did commit a murder, nevertheless, a beautiful secret murder that no one +could possibly ever bring to my home or cast in my tooth. + +"Well, well! Hang me and grin in sleeve--and I will laugh on other side +of face while dancing on nothing--for if you think you are doing me in +eye, I know I have done you in eye! + +"Yes. _I_ murdered Mr. Spensonly, the Chief Secretary of the Nuddee +River Commission. + +"As the Latin-and-Greeks used to say, '_Solo fesit_'! + +"You think Mr. Spensonly died of plague? So he did. And who caused him +to have plague? In short, who _plagued_ him? (Ha! Ha! An infinite jest!) +You shall know all about it and about, as Omar says, for I am going now +to write my autobiography of myself, as all great so-called Criminals +have done, for the admiration of mankind and the benefit of posterity. +And my fellow-brothers and family-members shall proudly publish it with +my photo--that of a great Patriot Hero and second Mazzini, Robespierre, +Kossuth, Garibaldi, Wallace, Charlotte Corday, Kosciusko, and Mr. Robert +Bruce (of spider fame). + +"And I shall welcome death and embrace the headsman ere making last +speech and dying confession. Having long desired to know what lies +Beyond, I shall make virtue of necessity and seize opportunity (of +getting to know) to play hero and die gamish. + +"Not like the Pathan murderer who walked about in front of condemned +cell with Koran balanced on head, crying to his Prophet to save him, and +defying Englishes to touch him. Of course they cooked his geese, Koran +or not. One warder does more than many Prophets in Gungapur Jail. (He! +He! Quite good epigram and nice cynicality of educated man.) The +degraded and unpolished fellow decoyed two little girls into empty house +to steal their jewellery, and cut off fingers and noses and ears to get +rings and nose-jewels and ear-drops, and left to die. Holy Fakir, +gentleman of course! Pooh! and Bah! for all holy men. I give spurnings +to them all for fools, knaves, or hypocrites. There are no gods any more +for educated gentleman, except himself, and that's very good god to +worship and make offering to (Ha! Ha! What a wit will be lost to the +silly world when it permits itself to lose me.) + +"Well, to return to the sheep, as the European proverb has it. I was +born here in Gungapur, which will also have honour of being my +death-and-cremation place, of poor but honest parent on thirty rupees a +mensem. He was very clever fellow and sent five sons to Primary School, +Middle School, High School and Gungapur Government College at cost of +over hundred rupees a month, all out of his thirty rupees a mensem. He +always used proverb 'Politeness lubricates wheels of life and palm +also,' and he obliged any man who made it worth his while. But he fell +into bad odours at hands of Mr. Spensonly owing to folly of +bribing-fellow sending cash to office and the letter getting into Mr. +Spensonly's post-bag and opening by mistake. + +"But the Sahib took me up into his office to soften blow to progenitor +and that shows he was a bad man or his luck would not have been to take +me in and give chance to murder him. + +"My good old paternal parent made me work many hours each night, and +though he knew nothing of the subjects he could read English and would +hear all my lessons and other brothers', and we had to say Skagger Rack, +Cattegat, Scaw Fell and Helvellyn, and such things to him, and he would +abuse us if we mis-arranged the figures and letters in CaH2O2 and +H2SO4 and all those things in bottles. Before the Matriculation +Examination he made a Graduate, whom he had got under his thumb-nail, +teach us all the answers to all the back questions in all subjects till +we knew them all by heart, and also made us learn ten long essays by +heart so as to make up the required essay out of parts of them. He +nearly killed my brother by starvation (saving food as well as punishing +miscreant) for failing--the only one of us who ever failed in any +examination--which he did by writing out all first chapter of Washington +Irving for essay, when the subject was 'Describe a sunrise in the +Australian back-blocks'. As parent said, he could have used 'A moonlight +stroll by the sea-shore' and change the colour from silver to golden. +But the fool was ill--so ill that he tried to kill himself and had not +the strength. He said he would rather go to the missionaries' hell, full +of Englishes, than go on learning _Egbert, Ethelbald, Ethelbert, +Ethelwulf, Ethelred, Alfred, Edward the Elder, Edred, Edwy, Edgar, +Ethelred the Unready_, and _If two triangles have two sides of the one +equal to two angles of the other each to each and the sides so subtended +equal then shall the bases or fourth sides be equal each to each or be +isosceles_. + +"Well, the progenitor kept our noses in the pie night and day and we all +hated the old papa piously and wished he and we and all teachers and +text-books were burned alive. + +"But we were very much loved by everybody as we were so learned and +clever, and whenever the Collector or anybody came to School, the Head +Master used to put one of us in each room and call on us to answer +questions and recite and say capes and bays without the map, and other +clever things; and when my eldest brother left I had to change coat with +another boy and do it twice sometimes, in different rooms. + +"Sometimes the Educational Inspector himself would come, but then +nothing could be done, for he would not ask questions that were always +asked and were in the book, like the teachers and Deputy Inspectors did, +but questions that no one knew and had to be thought out then and there. +That is no test of Learning--and any fool who has not troubled to mug +his book by heart might be able to answer such questions, while the man +who had learnt every letter sat dumb. + +"I hated the school and the books I knew by heart, but I loved Mr. +Ganeshram Joshibhai. He was a clever cunning man, and could always tweak +the leg of pompous Head Master when he came to the room, and had +beautiful ways of cheating him when he came to examine--better than +those of the other teachers. + +"Before we had been with him a month he could tell us things while being +examined, and no one else knew he was doing it. The initial letters of +each word made up the words he wanted to crib to us, and when he +scratched his head with the right hand the answer was 'No,' while with +the left hand it was 'Yes'. And the clever way he taught us sedition +while teaching us History, and appearing to praise the English! + +"He would spend hours in praising the good men who rebelled and fought +and got Magnum Charter and disrespected the King and cheeked the +Government and Members of Council. We knew all about Oliver Cromwell, +Hampden, Pim, and those crappies, and many a boy who had never heard of +Wolsey and Alfred the Great knew all about Felton the jolly fine patriot +who stabbed the Member of Council, Buckingham Esquire, in back. + +"We learnt whole History book at home and he spent all History lessons +telling us about Plots, all the English History Plots and foreign too, +and we knew about the man who killed Henry of Navarre, as well as about +the killing of French and American Presidents of to-day. He showed +always why successful plots succeeded and the others failed. And he gave +weeks to the American Independence War and the French Revolution. + +"And all the Indian History was about the Mutiny and how and why it +failed, when he was not showing us how the Englishes have ruined and +robbed India, and comparing the Golden Age of India (when no cow ever +died and there was never famine, plague, police nor taxes) with the +miserable condition of poor bleeding India to-day. + +"He was a fine fellow and so clever that we were almost his worshippers. +But I am not writing his autobiography but my own, so let him lapse +herewith into posterity and well-merited oblivious. + +"At the College when we could work no longer, we who had never learnt +crickets and tennis and ping-pongs, would take a nice big lantern with +big windows in four sides of it, and sit publicly in the middle of the +grass at the Gardens (with our books for a blind) and make speech to +each other about Mother India and exhort each other to join together in +a secret society and strike a blow for the Mother, and talk about the +heroes who had died on the scaffolding for her, or who were languishing +in chokey and do _poojah_ to their photos. But the superior members did +no _poojah_ to anything. Then came the Emissary in the guise of a holy +man (and I thought it the most dangerous disguise he could have assumed, +for I wonder the police do not arrest every sannyasi and fakir on +suspicion) and brought us the Message. And he took us to hear the blind +Mussulman they call Ilderim the Weeper. + +"All was ready and nothing lacked but the Instrument. + +"Would any of us achieve eternal fame and undying glory by being the +next Instrument? + +"We wouldn't. No jolly fear, and thanks awfully. + +"But we agreed to make a strike at the College and to drop a useless +Browning pistol where it would be found, and in various other ways to be +unrestful. And one of us, whom the Principal would not certify to sit +for his F.E. and was very stony hard-up, joined the Emissary and went +away with him to be a Servant and perhaps an Instrument later on (if he +could not get a girl with a good dowry or a service of thirty rupees a +mensem), he was so hungry and having nothing for belly. + +"Yes, as Mr. Ganeshram Joshibhai used to say, that is what the British +Government does for you--educates you to be passed B.A. and educated +gent., and then grudges to give you thirty rupees a mensem and expects +you to go searching for employment and food to put in belly! Can B.A. +work with hands like _maistri_? + +"Then there came the best of all my friends, a science-knowing gentleman +who gave all his great talents to bomb. And the cream of all the milky +joke was that he had learnt all his science free, from Government, at +school and college, and he not only used his knowledge to be first-class +superior anarchist but he got chemicals from Government own laboratory. + +"His brother was in Government Engineering College and between them they +did much--for one could make the bomb and the other could fill it. + +"But they are both to be hanged at the same time that I am, and I do not +grudge that I am to be innocently hanged for their plot and the blowing +up of the _bhangi_ by mistake for the Collector, for I have long aspired +to be holy martyr in Freedom's sacred cause and have photo in newspapers +and be talked about. + +"Besides, as I have said, I am not being done brown, as I murdered Mr. +Spensonly, the Engineer. + +"How I hated him! + +"Why should he be big and strong while I am skinny and feeble--owing to +night-and-day burning midnight candle at both ends and unable to make +them meet? + +"Besides did he not bring unmerited dishonour on grey hairs of poor old +progenitor by finding him out in bribe-taking? Did he not bring my +honoured father's aforesaying grey hairs in sorrow to reduced pension? + +"Did he not upbraid and rebuke, nay, reproach me when I made grievous +little errors and backslippers? + +"A thousand times Yea. + +"But I should never have murdered him had I not caught the Plague, so +out of evil cometh good once more. + +"The Plague came to Gungapur in its millions and we knew not what to do +but stood like drowning man splitting at a straw. + +"Superstitious Natives said it was the revenge of Goddess Kali for not +sacrificing, and superstitious Europeans said it was a microbe created +by their God to punish unhygienic way of living. + +"Knowing there are no gods of any sort I am in a position to state that +it was just written on our foreheads. + +"To make confusion worse dumbfounded the Government of course had to +seize horns of dilemma and trouble the poor. They had all cases taken to +hospital and made segregation and inspection camps. They disinfected +houses and burnt rags and even purdah women were not allowed to die in +bosom of family. Of course police stole lakhs of rupees worth of clothes +and furniture and said it was infected. And many good men who were +enemies of Government were falsely accused of being plague-stricken and +were dragged to hospital and were never seen again. + +"Terrible calamities fell upon our city and at last it nearly lost me +myself. I was seized, dragged from my family-bosom, cast into hospital +and cured. And in hospital I learned from fellow who was +subordinate-medical that rats get plague in sewers and cesspools and +when they die of it their fleas must go elsewhere for food, and so hop +on to other rat and give that poor chap plague too, by biting him with +dirty mouths from dead rat, and then he dies and so _in adfinitum_, as +the poet has it. But suppose no other rat is handy, what is poor hungry +flea to do? When you can't get curry, eat rice! When flea can't get rat +he eats man--turns to nastier food. (He! He!) + +"So when flea from plague-stricken rat jumps on to man and bites him, +poor fellow gets plague--_bus_.[58] + + [58] Finale, enough, the end. + +"Didn't friends and family-members skeddaddle and bunk when they saw rat +after I told them all that! But I didn't care, I had had plague once, +and one cannot get it twice. Not one man in thousand recovers when he +has got it, but I did. Old uneducated fool maternal parent did lots of +thanks-givings and _poojah_ because gods specially attentive to me--but +I said 'Go to, old woman. It was written on forehead.' + +"And when I returned to work, one day I had an idea--an idea of how to +punish Mr. Spensonly for propelling honoured parent head first out of +job, and idea for striking blow at British prestige. We had our office +in private bungalow in those days before new Secretariat was built, and +it was unhealthy bungalow in which no one would live because they died. + +"Mr. Spensonly didn't care, and he had office on top floor, but bottom +floor was clerks' office who went away at night also. Now it was my +painful duty to go every morning up to his office-room and see that peon +had put fresh ink and everything ready and that the _hamal_ had dusted +properly. So it was not long before I was aware that all the drawers +were locked except the top right-hand drawer, and that was not used as +there was a biggish hole in the front of it where the edge was broken +away from the above, some miscreant having once forced it open with +tool. + +"And verily it came to pass that one day, entering my humble abode-room, +I saw a plague-rat lying suffering from _in extremis_ and about to give +up ghost. But having had plague I did not trouble about the fleas that +would leave his body when it grew stiff and cold, in search of food. +Instead I let it lie there while my food was being prepared, and +regretted that it was not beneath the chair of some enemy of mine who +had not had plague, instead of beneath my own ... that of Mr. Spensonly +for example!... + +"It was Saturday night. I returned to the office that evening, knowing +that Mr. Spensonly was out; and I went to his office-room with idle +excuse to the peon sitting in verandah--and in my pocket was poor old +rat kicking bucket fast. + +"Who was to say _I_ put deceasing rat in the Sahib's table-drawer just +where he would come and sit all day--being in the habit of doing work on +Sunday the Christian holy day (being a man of no religion or caste)? +What do I know of rats and their properties when at death's front door? + +"Cannot rat go into a Sahib's drawer as well as into poor man's? If he +did no work on Sunday very likely the fleas would remain until Monday, +the rat dying slowly and remaining warm and not in _rigour mortuis_. +Anyhow when they began to seek fresh fields and pastures new, being fed +up with old rat--or rather not able to get fed up enough, they would be +jolly well on the look out, and glad enough to take nibble even at an +Englishman! (He! He!) So I argued, and put good old rat in drawer and +did slopes. On Monday, Mr. Spensonly went early from office, feeling +feverish; and when I called, as in duty bound, to make humble inquiries +on Tuesday, he was reported jolly sickish with Plague--and he died +Tuesday night. I never heard of any other Sahib dying of Plague in +Gungapur except one missionary fellow who lived in the native city with +native fellows. + +"So they can hang me for share in bomb-outrage and welcome (though I +never threw the bomb nor made it, and only took academic interest in +affair as I told the Judge Sahib)--for I maintain with my dying breath +that it was I who murdered Mr. Spensonly and put tongue in cheeks when +_Gungapur Gazette_ wrote column about the unhealthy bungalow in which he +was so foolish as to have his office. When I reflect that by this time +to-morrow I shall be Holy Martyr I rejoice and hope photo will be good +one, and I send this message to all the world-- + +"'Oh be....'" + + * * * * * + +Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gosling-Green, M.P., liked this Pathan gentleman so +well after reading his letter and enclosure. Before long they liked him +very much less--although they did not know it--which sounds cryptic. + + + +§ 5. MR. HORACE FAGGIT. + + +"Fair cautions, ain't they, these bloomin' niggers," observed Mr. Horace +Faggit, as the train rested and refreshed itself at a wayside station on +its weary way to distant Gungapur. + +Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley, of the 99th Baluch Light Infantry, +apparently did not feel called upon to notice the remark of Horace, whom +he regarded as a Person. + +"Makes you proud to think you are one of the Ruling Rice to look at the +silly blighters, don't it?" he persisted. + +"No authority on rice," murmured the Colonel, without looking up from +his book. + +Stuffy old beggar he seemed to the friendly and genial Horace, but +Horace was too deeply interested in India and Horace to be affected by +trifles. + +For Mr. Horace Faggit had only set foot in his Imperial Majesty the King +Emperor's Indian Empire that month, and he was dazed with impressions, +drunk with sensations, and uplifted with pride. Was he not one of the +Conquerors, a member of the Superior Society, one of the Ruling Race, +and, in short, a Somebody? + +The train started again and Horace sank back upon the long couch of the +unwonted first-class carriage, and sighed with contentment and +satisfaction. + +How different from Peckham and from the offices of the fine old British +Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt! A Somebody at +last--after being office-boy, clerk, strap-hanger, gallery-patron, +cheap lodger, and paper-collar wearer. A Somebody, a Sahib, an English +gent., one of the Ruling and Upper Class after being a fourpenny +luncher, a penny-'bus-and-twopenny--tuber, a waverer 'twixt Lockhart and +Pearce-and-Plenty. + +For him, now, the respectful salaam, precedence, the first-class +carriage, the salutes of police and railway officials, hotels, a servant +(elderly and called a "Boy"), cabs (more elderly and called "gharries"), +first-class refreshment and waiting rooms, a funny but imposing +sun-helmet, silk and cotton suits, evening clothes, deference, regard +and prompt attention everywhere. Better than Peckham and the City, this! +My! What tales he'd have to tell Gwladwys Gwendoline when he had +completed his circuit and returned. + +For Mr. Horace Faggit, plausible, observant, indefatigably cunning, and +in business most capable ("No bloomin' flies on 'Orris F." as he would +confidently and truthfully assure you) was the first tentative tentacle +advanced to feel its way by the fine old British Firm of Schneider, +Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt, in the mazy markets of the gorgeous +Orient, and to introduce to the immemorial East their famous jewellery +and wine of Birmingham and Whitechapel respectively; also to introduce +certain exceeding-private documents to various gentlemen of Teutonic +sympathies and activities in various parts of India--documents of the +nature of which Horace was entirely ignorant. + +And the narrow bosom of Horace swelled with pride, as he realized that, +here at least, he was a Gentleman and a Sahib. + +Well, he'd let 'em know it too. Those who did him well and pleased him +should get tips, and those who didn't should learn what it was to earn +the displeasure of the Sahib and to evoke his wrath. And he would +endeavour to let all and sundry see the immeasurable distance and +impassable gulf that lay between a Sahib and a nigger--of any degree +whatsoever. + +This was the country to play the gentleman in and no error! You _could_ +fling your copper cash about in a land where a one-and-fourpenny piece +was worth a hundred and ninety-two copper coins, where you could get a +hundred good smokes to stick in your face for about a couple of bob, and +where you could give a black cabby sixpence and done with it. Horace had +been something of a Radical at home (and, indeed, when an office-boy, a +convinced Socialist), especially when an old-age pension took his lazy, +drunken old father off his hands, and handsomely rewarded the aged +gentleman for an unswervingly regular and unbroken career of +post-polishing and pub-pillaring. But now he felt he had been mistaken. +Travel widens the horizon and class-hatred is only sensible and +satisfactory when you are no class yourself. When you have got a +position you must keep it up--and being one of the Ruling Race was a +position undoubtedly. Horace Faggit _would_ keep it up too, and let 'em +see all about it. + +The train entered another station and drew in from the heat and glare to +the heat and comparative darkness. + +Yes, he would keep up his position as a Sahib haughtily and with +jealousy,--and he stared with terrible frown and supercilious hauteur at +what he mentally termed a big, fat buck-nigger who dared and presumed +to approach the carriage and look in. The man wore an enormous white +turban, a khaki Norfolk jacket, white jodhpore riding-breeches that +fitted the calf like skin, and red shoes with turned-up pointed toes. +His beard was curled, and his hair hung in ringlets from his turban to +his shoulders in a way Horace considered absurd. Could the blighter be +actually looking to see whether there might be room for him, and +meditating entry? If so Horace would show him his mistake. Pretty thing +if niggers were to get into First-Class carriages with Sahibs like +Horace! + +"'Ere! What's the gaime?" he inquired roughly. "Can't yer see this is +Firs-Class, and if you got a Firs-Class ticket, can't yer see there's +two Sahibs 'ere? Sling yer 'ook, _sour_.[59] Go on, _jao!_"[60] + + [59] Pig. + [60] Go away. + +The man gave no evidence of having understood Horace. + +"Sahib!" said he softly, addressing Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley. + +The Colonel went on reading. + +"_Jao_, I tell yer," repeated Horace, rather proud of his grasp of the +vernacular. "Slope, _barnshoot_."[61] + + [61] An insulting epithet. + +"Sahib!" said the man again. + +The Colonel looked up and then sprang to his feet with outstretched +hand. + +"_Bahut salaam_,[62] Subedar Major Saheb," he cried, and wrung the hand +of the "big fat buck-nigger" (who possessed the same medal-ribbons that +he himself did) as he poured forth a torrent of mingled Pushtu, Urdu, +and English while the Native Officer alternately saluted and pressed +the Colonel's hand to his forehead in transports of pure and wholly +disinterested joy. + + [62] Hearty greeting. + +"They told me the Colonel Sahib would be passing through this week," he +said, "and I have met all the trains that I might look upon his face. I +am weary of my furlough and would rejoin but for my law-suit. Praise be +to Allah that I have met my Colonel Sahib," and the man who had five war +decorations was utterly unashamed of the tear that trickled. + +"How does my son, Sahib?" he asked in Urdu. + +"Well, Subedar Major Saheb, well. Worthily of his father--whose place in +the _pultan_ may he come to occupy." + +"Praise be to God, Sahib! Let him no more seek his father's house nor +look upon his father's face again, if he please thee not in all things. +And is there good news of Malet-Marsac Sahib, O Colonel Sahib?" Then, +with a glance at Horace, he asked: "Why does this low-born one dare to +enter the carriage of the Colonel Sahib and sit? Truly the _rêlwêy +terain_ is a great caste-breaker! Clearly he belongs to the class of the +_ghora-log_, the common soldiers." ... + +"'Oo was that,--a Rajah?" inquired the astounded Horace, as the train +moved on. + +"One of the people who keep India safe for you bagmen," replied the +Colonel, who was a trifle indignant on behalf of the insulted Subedar +Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan of the 99th Baluch Light +Infantry. + +"No doubt he thought I was another officer," reflected Horace. "They +think you're a gent, if you chivvy 'em." + +At Umbalpur Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley left the train and Mr. +Faggit had the carriage to himself--for a time. + +And it was only through his own firmness and proper pride that he had it +to himself for so long, for at the very next station a beastly little +brute of a black man actually tried to get in--in with _him_, Mr. Horace +Faggit of the fine old British Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & +Schmidt, manufacturers of best quality Birmingham jewellery and +"importers" of a fine Whitechapel wine. + +But Horace settled _him_ all right and taught him to respect Sahibs. It +happened thus. Horace lay idly gazing at the ever-shifting scene of the +platform in lordly detachment and splendid isolation, when, just as the +train was starting, a little fat man, dressed in a little red turban +like a cotton bowler, a white coat with a white sash over the shoulder, +a white apron tucked up behind, pink silk socks, and patent leather +shoes, told his servant to open the door. Ere the stupefied Horace could +arise from his seat the man was climbing in! The door opened inwards +however, and Horace was in time to give it a sharp thrust with his foot +and send the little man, a mere Judge of the High Court, staggering +backwards on to the platform where he sprawled at full length, while his +turban, which Horace thought most ridiculous for a grown man, rolled in +the dust. Slamming the door the "Sahib" leant out and jeered, while the +insolent presumptuous "nigger" wiped the blood from his nose with a +corner of the _dhoti_ or apron-like garment (which Horace considered +idiotic if not improper).... + +But Homer nodded, and--Horace went to sleep. + +When he awoke he saw by the dim light of the screened roof-lamp that he +was not alone, and that on the opposite couch a _native_ had actually +made up a bed with sheets, blankets and pillow, undressed himself, put +on pyjamas and gone to bed! Gord streuth, he had! He'd attend to him in +the morning--though it would serve the brute right if Horace threw him +out at the next station--without his kit. But he looked rather large, +and Mercy is notoriously a kingly attribute. + +In the morning Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed of +Mekran Kot, Gungapur, and the world in general, awoke, yawned, stretched +himself and arose. + +He arose to some six feet and three inches of stature, and his thin +pyjamasuit was seen to cover a remarkably fine and robustious +figure--provided with large contours where contours are desirable, and +level tracts where such are good. As he lay flat back again, Horace +noted that his chest rose higher than his head and the more southerly +portion of his anatomy, while the action of clasping his hands behind +his neck brought into prominence a pair of biceps that strained their +sleeves almost to bursting. He was nearly as fair as London-bred Horace, +but there were his turbanned conical hat, his curly toed shoes, his long +silk coat, his embroidered velvet waistcoat and other wholly Oriental +articles of attire. Besides, his vest was of patterned muslin and he had +something on a coloured string round his neck. + +"What are you doing 'ere?" demanded Horace truculently, as this bold +abandoned "native" caught his eye and said "Good-morning". + +"At present I am doing nothing," was the reply, "unless passive +reclining may count as being something. I trust I do not intrude or +annoy?" + +"You do intrude and likewise you do annoy also. I ain't accustomed to +travel with blacks, and I ain't agoing to have you spitting about 'ere. +You got in when I was asleep." + +"You were certainly snoring when I got in, and I was careful not to +awaken you--but not on account of any great sensation of guilt or fear. +I assure you I have no intention of spitting or being in any way rude, +unmannerly, or offensive. And since you object to travelling with +'blacks' I suggest--that you leave the carriage." + +Did Horace's ears deceive him? Did he sleep, did he dream, and were +visions about? _Leave the carriage_? + +"Look 'ere," he shouted, "you keep a civil tongue in your 'ead. Don't +you know I am a gentleman? What do you mean by getting into a +first-class carriage with a gentleman and insulting 'im? Want me to +throw you out before we reach a station? Do yer?" + +"No, to tell you the truth I did not realize that you are a +gentleman--and I have known a great number of English gentlemen in +England and India, and generally found them mirrors of chivalry and the +pink of politeness and courtesy. And I hope you won't try to throw me +out either in a station or elsewhere for I might get annoyed and hurt +you." + +What a funny nigger it was! What did he mean by "mirrors of chivalry". +Talked like a bloomin' book. Still, Horace would learn him not to +presoom. + +The presumptuous one retired to the lavatory; washed, shaved, and +reappeared dressed in full Pathan kit. But for this, there was nothing +save his very fine physique and stature to distinguish him from an +inhabitant of Southern Europe. + +Producing a red-covered official work on Mounted Infantry Training, he +settled down to read. + +Horace regretted that India provided not his favourite _Comic Cuts and +Photo Bits_. + +"May I offer you a cigarette and light one myself?" said the "black" man +in his quiet cultured voice. + +"I don't want yer fags--and I don't want you smoking while I got a empty +stummick," replied the Englishman. + +Anon the train strolled into an accidental-looking station with an air +of one who says, "Let's sit down for a bit--what?" and Horace sprang to +the window and bawled for the guard. + +"'Ere--ask this native for 'is ticket," he said, on the arrival of that +functionary. "Wot's 'e doing in 'ere with _me_?" + +"Ticket, please?" said the guard--a very black Goanese. + +The Pathan produced his ticket. + +"Will you kindly see if there is another empty first-class carriage, +Guard?" said he. + +"There iss one next a'door," replied the guard. + +"Then you can escape from your unpleasant predicament by going in there, +Sir," said the Pathan. + +"I shall remine where I ham," was the dignified answer. + +"And so shall I," said the Pathan. + +"Out yer go," said the bagman, rising threateningly. + +"I am afraid I shall have to put you to the trouble of ejecting me," +said the Pathan, with a smile. + +"I wouldn't bemean myself," countered Horace loftily, and didn't. + +"One often hears of the dangerous classes in India," said the Pathan, as +the train moved on again. "You belong to the most dangerous of all. You +and your kind are a danger to the Empire and I have a good mind to be a +public benefactor and destroy you. Put you to the edge of the sword--or +rather of the tin-opener," and he pulled his lunch-basket from under the +seat. + +"Have some chicken, little Worm?" he continued, opening the basket and +preparing to eat. + +"Keep your muck," replied Horace. + +"No, no, little Cad," corrected the strange and rather terrible person; +"you are going to breakfast with me and you are going to learn a few +things about India--and yourself." + +And Horace did.... + +"Where are you going?" asked the Pathan person later. + +"I'm going to work up a bit o' trade in a place called Gungerpore," was +the reply of the cowed Horace. + +But in Gungapur Horace adopted the very last trade that he, respectable +man, ever expected to adopt--that of War. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"MEET AND LEAVE AGAIN." + + "So on the sea of life, Alas! + Man nears man, meets and leaves again." + + + +§ 1. + + +It had come. Ross-Ellison had proved a true prophet (and was to prove +himself a true soldier and commander of men). + +Possibly the most remarkable thing about it was the quickness and +quietness, the naturalness and easiness with which it had come. A week +or two of newspaper forecast and fear, a week or two of recrimination +and feverish preparation, an ultimatum--England at war. The navy +mobilized, the army mobilizing, auxiliaries warned to be in readiness, +overseas battalions, batteries and squadrons recalled, or +re-distributed, reverses and "regrettable incidents,"--and outlying +parts of India (her native troops massed in the North or doing +garrison-duty overseas) an archipelago of safety-islands in a sea of +danger; Border parts of India for a time dependent upon their various +volunteer battalions for the maintenance, over certain areas, of their +civil governance, their political organization and public services. + +In Gungapur, as in a few other Border cities, the lives of the European +women, children and men, the safety of property, and the continuance of +the local civil government depended for a little while upon the local +volunteer corps. + +Gungapur, whose history became an epitome of that of certain other +isolated cities, was for a few short weeks an intermittently besieged +garrison, a mark for wandering predatory bands composed of _budmashes_ +outlaws, escaped convicts, deserters, and huge mobs drawn from that +enormous body of men who live on the margin of respectability, peaceful +cultivator today, bloodthirsty dacoit to-morrow, wielders of the spade +and mattock or of the _lathi_ and _tulwar_[63] according to season, +circumstance, and the power of the Government; recruits for a mighty +army, given the leader and the opportunity--the hour of a Government's +danger. + + [63] Quarter-staff and sword. + +As had been pointed out, time after time, in the happy and +happy-go-lucky past, the practical civilian seditionist and active +civilian rebel is more fortunately situated in India than is his foreign +brother, in that his army exists ready to hand, all round him, in the +thousands of the desperately poor, devoid of the "respectability" that +accompanies property, thousands with nothing to lose and high hopes of +much to gain, heaven-sent material for the agitator. + +Thanks to the energy of Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison, his unusual +organizing ability, his personality, military genius and fore-knowledge +of what was coming, Gungapur suffered less than might have been expected +in view of its position on the edge of a Border State of +always-doubtful friendliness, its large mill-hand element, and the +poverty and turbulence of its general population. + +The sudden departure of the troops was the sign for the commencement of +a state of insecurity and anxiety which quickly merged into one of +danger and fear, soon to be replaced by a state of war. + +From the moment that it was known for certain that the garrison would be +withdrawn, Colonel Ross-Ellison commenced to put into practice his +projected plans and arrangements. On the day that Mr. Dearman's coolies +(after impassioned harangues by a blind Mussulman fanatic known as +Ibrahim the Weeper, a faquir who had recently come over the Border to +Gungapur and attained great influence; and by a Hindu professional +agitator who had obtained a post at the mills in the guise of a harmless +clerk) commenced rioting, beat Mr. Dearman to death with crowbars, +picks, and shovels, murdered all the European and Eurasian employees, +looted all that was worth stealing, and, after having set fire to the +mills, invaded the Cantonment quarter, burning, murdering, +destroying,--Colonel Ross-Ellison called out his corps, declared martial +law, and took charge of the situation, the civil authorities being dead +or cut off in the "districts". + +The place which he had marked out for his citadel in time of trouble was +the empty Military Prison, surrounded by a lofty wall provided with an +unassailable water-supply, furnished with cook-houses, infirmary, +work-shop, and containing a number of detached bungalows (for officials) +in addition to the long lines of detention barracks. + +As soon as his men had assembled at Headquarters he marched to the +place and commenced to put it in a state of defence and preparation for +a siege. + +While Captain Malet-Marsac and Captain John Bruce (of the Gungapur +Engineering College) slaved at carrying out his orders in the Prison, +other officers, with picked parties of European Volunteers, went out to +bring in fugitives, to commandeer the contents of provision and grain +shops, to drive in cattle, to seize cooks, sweepers and other servants, +to shoot rioters and looters in the Cantonment area, to search for +wounded and hidden victims of the riot, to bury corpses, extinguish +fires, penetrate to European bungalows in the city and in outlying +places, to publish abroad that the Military Prison was a safe refuge, to +seize and empty ammunition shops and toddy shops, to mount guards at the +railway-station, telegraph office, the banks, the gate-house of the +great Jail, the Treasury and the Kutcherry,[64] and generally, to use +their common sense and their rifles as the situation demanded. + + [64] Collector's Court and Office. + +Day by day external operation became more restricted as the mob grew +larger and bolder, better armed and better organized, daily augmented +and assisted from without. The last outpost which Colonel Ross-Ellison +withdrew was the one from the railway-station, and that was maintained +until it was known that large bridges had been blown up on either side +and the railway rendered useless. In the Jail gate-house he established +a strong guard under the Superintendent, and urged him to use it +ruthlessly, to kill on the barest suspicion of mutiny, and to welcome +the first opportunity of giving the sharpest of lessons. + +In this matter he set a personal example and behaved, to actual rioters, +with what some of his followers considered unnecessary severity, and +what others viewed as wise war-ending firmness. + +When remonstrated with by Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green (caught, alas! +with his admirable wife in this sudden and terrible maelstrom), for +shooting, against the Prison wall, a squad of armed men caught by night +and under more than suspicious circumstances, within Cantonment limits, +he replied curtly and rudely:-- + +"My good little Gosling, I'd shoot _you_ with my own hand if you failed +me in the least particular--so stick to your drill and hope to become a +Corporal before the war is over". + +The world-famous Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., hoping to become a +Corporal! Meanwhile he was less--a private soldier, doing four hard +drills a day--not to mention sentry-go and fatigues. Like Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble, he grumbled bitterly--but he obeyed, +having been offered the hard choice of enrolment or exclusion. + +"I'll have no useless male mouths here," had said Colonel Ross-Ellison. +"Enroll or clear out and take your chance. I'll look after your wife." + +"But, my dear Sir...." + +"'Sir' without the 'my dear,' please." + +"I was about to say that I could--ah--assist, advise, sit upon your +councils, give you the benefit of my--er--experience, ..." the Publicist +had expostulated. + +"Experience of war?" + +"No--er--I----" + +"Enroll or clear out--and when you have enrolled remember that you are +under martial law and in time of war." + +A swift, fierce, masterful man, harsh and ruthless making war without +kid gloves--that it might end the sooner and be the longer remembered by +the survivors. The flag was to be kept flying in Gungapur, the women and +children were to be saved, all possible damage was to be inflicted on +the rebels and rioters, more particularly upon those who led and incited +them. The Gosling-Greens and Grobbles who could not materially assist to +this end could go, those who could thwart or hinder this end could die. + +Gleams of humour enlivened the situation. Mrs. Gosling-Green (_née_ a +Pounding-Pobble, Superiora Pounding-Pobble, one of the Pounding-Pobbles +of Putney) was under the orders, very much under the orders, of the wife +of the Sergeant-Major, and early and plainly learnt that good woman's +opinion that she was a poor, feckless body and eke a fushionless, not +worth the salt of her porridge--a lazy slut withal. + +Among the "awkward squads" enrolled when rioting broke out and the corps +seized the old Prison, were erstwhile grave and reverend seniors +learning to "stand up like a man an' look prahd o' yourself" at the +orders of the Sergeant-Major. Among them were two who had been Great +Men, Managers signing _per_ and _pro_, Heads of Departments, almost Tin +Gods, and one of them, alas, was at the mercy of a mere boy whom he had +detested and frequently "squashed" in the happy days of yore. The mere +boy (a cool, humorous, and somewhat vindictive person, one of the best +subalterns of the Corps and especially chosen by Colonel Ross-Ellison +when re-organizing the battalion after its disbandment) was giving his +close attention to the improvement of his late manager, a pompous, dull +and silly bureaucrat, even as his late manager had done for him. + +"Now, Private Bulliton," he would urge, "_do_ learn which is your right +hand and which is your left. And _do_ stand up.... No--don't drop your +rifle when you are told to 'shoulder'. _That's_ better--we shall make +something of you yet. Head up, man, head up! Try and look fierce. Look +at Private Faggit--he'll be a Sergeant yet" ... and indeed Private +Horace Faggit was looking very fierce indeed, for he desired the blood +of these interfering villains who were hindering the development of the +business of the fine old British firm of Messrs. Schneider, Schnitzel, +Schnorrer & Schmidt and the commissions of their representative. Also he +felt that he was assisting at the making of history. 'Orace in a +bloomin' siege--Gorblimey!--and he, who had never killed anything bigger +than an insect in his life, lusted to know how it felt to shove your +bayonet into a feller or shoot 'im dead at short rynge. So Horace +drilled with alacrity and zest, paid close attention to +aiming-instruction and to such visual-training and distance-judging as +his officer, Captain John Bruce, could give him, and developed a +military aptitude surprising to those who had known him only as Horace +Faggit, Esquire, the tried and trusted Representative of the fine old +British Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt. + +To Captain Malet-Marsac, an unusually thoughtful, observant and +studious soldier, it was deeply interesting to see how War affected +different people how values changed, how the Great became exceeding +small, and the insignificant person became important. By the end of the +first month of what was virtually the siege of the Military Prison, +Horace Faggit, late office-boy, clerk, and bagman, was worth +considerably more than Augustus Grobble, late Professor of Moral +Philosophy; Cornelius Gosling-Green, late Publicist; Edward Jones, late +(alleged) Educationist, of Duri formerly; and a late Head of a +Department,--all rolled into one--a keen, dapper, self-reliant soldier, +courageous, prompt, and very bloodthirsty. + +As he strolled up and down, supervising drills, went round the +sentry-posts by night, or marched at the head of a patrol, Captain +Malet-Marsac would reflect upon the relativity of things, the false +values of civilization, and the extraordinary devitalising and +deteriorating results of "education". When it came to vital issues, +elementals, stark essential manhood,--then the elect of civilization, +the chosen of education, weighed, was found not only wanting but largely +negligible. Where the highly "educated" was as good as the other he was +so by reason of his games and sports, his _shikar_, or his specialized +training--as in the case of the engineers and other physically-trained +men. + +Captain John Bruce, for example, Professor of Engineering, was a soldier +in a few weeks and a fine one. In time of peace, a quiet, humorous, dour +and religious-minded man, he was now a stern disciplinarian and a +cunning foe who fought to kill, rejoicing in the carnage that taught a +lesson and made for earlier peace. The mind that had dreamed of +universal brotherhood and the Oneness of Humanity now dreamed of +ambushes, night-attacks, slaughterous strategy and magazine-fire on a +cornered foe. + +Surely and steadily the men enclosed behind the walls of the old Prison +rose into the ranks of the utterly reliable, the indefatigable, the +fearless and the fine, or sank into those of the shifty, unhearty, +unreliable, and unworthy--save the few who remained steadily mediocre, +well-meaning, unsoldierly, fairly trustworthy--a useful second line, but +not to be sent on forlorn hopes, dangerous reconnoitring, risky +despatch-carrying, scouting, or ticklish night-work. One siege is very +like another--and Ross-Ellison's garrison knew increasing weariness, +hunger, disease and casualties. + +Mrs. Dearman's conduct raised Colonel Ross-Ellison's love to a burning, +yearning devotion, and his defence of Gungapur became his defence of +Mrs. Dearman. For her husband she appeared to mourn but little--there +was little time to mourn--and, for a while, until sights, sounds and +smells became increasingly horrible, she appeared almost to enjoy her +position of Queen of the Garrison, the acknowledged Ladye of the +Officers and men of the Corps. Until she fell sick herself, she played +the part of amateur Florence Nightingale right well, going regularly +with a lamp--the Lady with the Lamp--at night through the hospital ward. +Captain John Bruce was the only one who was not loud in her praises, +though he uttered no dispraises. He, a dour and practical person, +thought the voyage with the Lamp wholly unnecessary and likely to awaken +sleepers to whom sleep was life; that lint-scraping would have been a +more useful employment than graciousness to the poor wounded; that a +woman, as zealous as Mrs. Dearman looked, would have torn up dainty +cotton and linen confections for bandages instead of wearing them; that +the Commandant didn't need all the personal encouragement and +enheartenment that she wished to give him--and many other uncomfortable, +cynical, and crabby thoughts. Captain Malet-Marsac loved her without +criticism. + +Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, after haranguing all and sundry, +individually and collectively, on the economic unsoundness, the illogic, +and the unsocial influence of War, took to her bed and stayed there +until she found herself totally neglected. Arising and demanding an +interview with the Commandant, she called him to witness that she +entered a formal protest against the whole proceedings and registered +her emphatic----until the Commandant, sending for Cornelius (whose +duties cut him off, unrepining, from his wife's society), ordered him to +remove her, silence her, beat her if necessary--and so save her from the +unpleasant alternative of solitary confinement on bread and water until +she could be, if not useful, innocuous. + +Many a poor woman of humble station proved herself (what most women are) +an uncomplaining, unconsidered heroine, and more than one "subordinate" +of mixed ancestry and unpromising exterior, a brave devoted man. As +usual, what kept the flag flying and gave ultimate victory to the +immeasurably weaker side was the spirit, the personality, the force, the +power, of one man. + +To Captain Malet-Marsac this was a revelation. Even to him, who knew +John Robin Ross-Ellison well, and had known and studied him for some +time at Duri and elsewhere, it was a wonderful thing to see how the +quiet, curious, secretive man (albeit a fine athlete, horseman and +adventurous traveller) stepped suddenly into the fierce light of supreme +command in time of war, a great, uncompromising, resourceful ruler of +men, skilful strategist and tactician, remarkable both as organizer, +leader, and personal fighter. + +Did he _ever_ sleep? Night after night he penetrated into the city +disguised as a Pathan (a disguise he assumed with extraordinary skill +and which he strengthened by a perfect knowledge of many Border dialects +as well as of Pushtoo), or else personally led some night attack, sally, +reconnaissance or foraging expedition. Day after day he rode out on +Zuleika with the few mounted men at his command, scouting, +reconnoitring, gleaning information, attacking and slaughtering small +parties of marauders as occasion offered. + +From him the professional soldier, his adjutant, learned much, and +wondered where his Commandant had learned all he had to teach. Captain +Malet-Marsac owned him master, his military as well as his official +superior, and grew to feel towards him as his immediate followers felt +toward Napoleon--to love him with a devoted respect, a respecting +devotion. He recognized in him the born guerrilla leader--and more, the +trained guerrilla leader, and wondered where on earth this strange +civilian had garnered his practical military knowledge and skill. + +Wherever he went on foot, especially when he slipped out of the Prison +for dangerous spy-work among the forces of the mutineers, rebels, +rioters and _budmashes_ of the city, he was followed by his servant, an +African, concerning whom Colonel Ross-Ellison had advised the servants +of the Officers' Mess to be careful and also to bear in mind that he was +not a _Hubshi_. Only when the Colonel rode forth on horseback was he +separated from this man who, when the Colonel was in his room, +invariably slept across the door thereof. + +On night expeditions, the Somali would be disguised, sometimes as a +leprous beggar, as stable-boy, again as an Arab, sometimes as a renegade +sepoy from a Native Border Levy, sometimes as a poor fisherman, again as +a Sidi boatman, he being, like his master, exceptionally good at +disguises of all kinds, and knowing Hindustani, Arabic, and his native +Somal dialect. + +He was an expert bugler, and in that capacity stuck like a burr to the +Colonel by day, looking very smart and workmanlike in khaki uniform and +being of more than average usefulness with rifle and bayonet. Not until +after the restoration of order did Mr. Edward Jones, formerly of the +Duri High School, long puzzled as to where he had seen him before, +realize who he was. + + * * * * * + +In a low dark room, dimly lighted that evening by wick-and-saucer +_butties_, squatted, lay, sat, stood and sprawled a curious collection +of scoundrels. The room was large, and round the four sides of it ran a +very broad, very low, and very filthy divan, intended for the rest and +repose of portly _bunnias_,[65] _seths_,[66] brokers, shopkeepers and +others of the commercial fraternity, what time they assembled to chew +pan and exchange lies and truths anent money and the markets. A very +different assembly now occupied its greasy lengths _vice_ the former +habitués of the _salon_, now dispersed, dead, robbed, ruined, held to +ransom, or cruelly blackmailed. + + [65] Dealers. + [66] Money-lenders. + +In the seat of honour (an extra cushion), sat the blind faquir who, with +his clerkly colleague, had set the original match to the magazine by +inciting the late Mr. Dearman's coolies. Apparently a relentless, +terrible fanatic and bitter hater of the English, for his councils were +all of blood and fire, rapine and slaughter, he taunted his hearers with +their supine cowardice in that the Military Prison still held out, its +handful of defenders still manned its walls, nay, from time to time, +made sallies and terrible reprisals upon a careless ill-disciplined +enemy. + +"Were I but as other men! Had I but mine eyes!" he screamed, "I would +overwhelm the place in an hour. Hundreds to one you are--and you are +mocked, robbed, slaughtered." + +A thin-faced, evil-looking, squint-eyed Hindu whose large, thick, +gold-rimmed goggles accorded ill with the sword that lay athwart his +crossed legs, addressed him in English. + +"Easy to talk, Moulvie. Had you your sight you could perhaps drill and +arm the mob into an army, eh? Find them repeating rifles and ammunition, +find them officers, find them courage? Is it not? Yes." + +"Hundreds to one, Babu," grunted the blind man, and spat. + +"I would urge upon this august assemblee," piped a youthful weedy +person, "that recreemination is not argument, and that many words butter +no parsneeps, so to speak. We are met to decide as to whether the +treasure shall be removed to Pirgunge or still we keep it with us here +in view of sudden sallies of foes. I hereby beg to propose and my +honourable friend Mister----" + +"Sit down, crow," said the blind faquir unkindly and there was a +snigger. "The treasure will be removed at once--this night, or I will +remove myself from Gungapur with all my followers--and go where deeds +are being done. I weary of waiting while pi-dogs yelp around the walls +they cannot enter. Cowards! Thousands to one--and ye do not kill two of +them a day. Conquer and slay them? Nay--rather must our own treasure be +removed lest some night the devil, in command there, swoop upon it, +driving ye off like sheep and carrying back with him----" + +"Flesh and blood cannot face a machine-gun, Moulvie," said the +squint-eyed Hindu. "Even _your_ holy sanctity would scarcely protect you +from bullets. Come forth and try to-morrow." + +"Nor can flesh and blood--such flesh and blood as Gungapur +provides--surround the machine-gun and rush upon it from flank and rear +of course," replied the blind man. "Do machine guns fire in all +directions at once? When they ran the accursed thing down to the +market-place and fired it into the armed crowd that listened to my +words, could ye not have fled by other streets to surround it? Had all +rushed bravely from all directions how long would it have fired? Even +thus, could more have died than did die? Scores they slew--and retired +but when they could fire no longer.... And ye allowed it to go because a +dozen men stood between it and you----," and again the good man spat. + +"I do not say 'Sit down, crow' for thou art already sitting," put in a +huge, powerful-looking man, arrayed in a conical puggri-encircled cap, +long pink shirt over very baggy peg-top trousers, and a green waistcoat, +"but I weary of thy chatter Blind-Man. Keep thy babble for fools in the +market-place, where, I admit, it hath its uses. Remain our valued and +respected talker and interfere not with fighting men, nor criticize. And +say not 'The treasure will be removed this night,' nor anything else +concerning command. _I_ will decide in the matter of the treasure and I +prefer to keep it here under mine hand...." + +"Doubtless," sneered the blind man. "Under thy hand--until, in the end, +it be found to consist of boxes of stones and old iron. Look you--the +treasure goes to-night or _I_ go, and certain others go with me. And +suppose I change my tune in the market-place, Havildar Nazir Ali Khan, +and say certain words concerning _thee_ and thy designs, give hints of +treachery--and where is the loud-mouthed Nazir Ali Khan?..." and his +blind eyes glared cold ferocity at the last speaker who handled his +sword and replied nothing. + +The secret of the man's power was clear. + +"The treasure will be removed to night," he repeated and a discussion of +limes, routes, escort and other details followed. A dispute arose +between the big man addressed as Havildar Nazir Ali Khan and a squat +broad-shouldered Pathan as to the distance and probable time that a +convoy, moving at the rate of laden bullock-carts, would take in +reaching Pirgunge. + +The short thick-set Pathan turned for confirmation of his estimate to +another Pathan, grey-eyed but obviously a Pathan, nevertheless. + +"I say it is five _kos_ and the carts should start at moonrise and +arrive before the moon sets." + +"You are right, brother," replied the grey-eyed Pathan, who, for his own +reasons, particularly desired that the convoy should move by moonlight. +This individual had not spoken hitherto in the hearing of the blind +faquir, and, as he did so now, the blind man turned sharply in his +direction, a look of startled surprise and wonder on his face. + +"Who spoke?" he snapped. + +But the grey-eyed man arose, yawned hugely, and, arranging his puggri +and straightening his attire, swaggered towards the door of the room, +passed out into a high-walled courtyard, exchanged a few words with the +guardian of a low gateway, and emerged into a narrow alley where he was +joined by an African-looking camel-man. + +The blind man, listening intently, sat motionless for a minute and then +again asked sharply:-- + +"Who spoke? Who spoke?" + +"Many have spoken Pir Saheb," replied the squat Pathan. + +"Who said '_You are right, brother_,' but now? Who? Quick!" he cried. + +"Who? Why, 'twas one of us," replied the squat Pathan. "Yea, 'twas +Abdulali Habbibullah, the money-lender. I have known him long...." + +"Let him speak again," said the blind man. + +"Where is he? He has gone out, I think," answered the other. + +"Call him back, Hidayetullah. Take others and bring him back. I must +hear his voice again," urged the faquir. + +"He will come again, Moulvie Saheb, he is often here," said the short +man soothingly. "I know him well. He will be here to-morrow." + +"See, Hidayetullah," said the blind faquir "when next he comes, say then +to me, 'May I bring thee tobacco, Pir Saheb,' if he be sitting near, but +say 'May I bring thee tobacco, Moulvie Saheb,' if he be sitting afar +off. If this, speak to him across the room that I may hear his voice in +answer, and call him by his name, Abdulali Habbibullah. And if I should, +on a sudden, cry out 'Hold the door,' do thou draw knife and leap to the +door...." + +"A _spy_, Pir Saheb?" asked the interested man. + +"That I shall know when next I hear his voice--and, if it be he whom I +think, thou shalt scrape the flesh from the bones of his face with thy +knife and put his eyeballs in his mouth. But he must not die. Nay! Nay!" + +The Pathan smiled. + +"Thou shalt hear his voice, Pir Saheb," he promised. + + * * * * * + +An hour later the African-looking camel-man and the Pathan approached +the gates of the Military Prison and at a distance of a couple of +hundred yards the African imitated the cry of a jackal, the barking of a +dog and the call of the "Did-ye-do-it" bird. + +Approaching the gate he whispered a countersign and was admitted, the +gate being then held open for the Pathan who followed him at a distance +of a hundred yards. Entering Colonel Ross-Ellison's room the Pathan +quickly metamorphosed himself into Colonel Ross-Ellison, and sent for +his Adjutant, Captain Malet-Marsac. + +"Fifty of the best, with fifty rounds each, to parade at the gate in +half an hour," he said. "Bruce to accompany me, you to remain in command +here. All who can, to wear rubber-soled shoes, others to go barefoot or +bandage their boots with putties over cardboard or paper. No man likely +to cough or sneeze is to go. Luminous-paint discs to be served out to +half a dozen. No rations, no water,--just shirts, shorts and bandoliers. +Nothing white or light-coloured to be worn. Put a strong outpost, all +European, under Corporal Faggit on the hill, and double all guards and +sentries. Shove sentry-groups at the top of the Sudder Bazaar, West +Street and Edward Road.--_You_ know all about it.... I've got a good +thing on. There'll be a lot of death about to-night, if all goes well." + +Half an hour later Captain Bruce called his company of fifty picked men +to "attention" as Colonel Ross-Ellison approached, the gate was opened +and an advance-guard of four men, with four flankers, marched out and +down the road leading to the open country. Two of these wore each a +large tin disc painted with luminous paint fastened to his back. When +these discs were only just visible from the gate a couple more +disc-adorned men started forth, and before their discs faded into the +darkness the remainder of the party "formed fours" and marched after +them, all save a section of fours which followed a couple of hundred +yards in the rear, as a rear-guard. In silence the small force advanced +for an hour, passed some cross-roads, and then Colonel Ross-Ellison, +who had joined the advance-guard, signalled a halt and moved away by +himself to the right of the road. + +In the shadow of the trees, the moon having risen, Captain Bruce ordered +his men to lie down, announcing in a whisper that he would have the life +of anyone who made a sound or struck a match. This was known to be but +half in jest, for the Captain was a good disciplinarian and a man of his +word. + +Save for the occasional distant bark of the village-dogs, the night was +very still. Sitting staring out into the moon-lit hazy dusk in the +direction in which his chief had disappeared, Captain John Bruce +wondered if he were really one of a band of armed men who hoped shortly +to pour some two and a half thousand bullets into other men, really a +soldier fighting and working and starving that the Flag might fly, +really a primitive fighting-man with much blood upon his hands and an +earnest desire for more--or whether he were not a respectable Professor +who would shortly wake, beneath mosquito-curtains, from a very dreadful +dream. How thin a veneer was this thing called Civilization, and how +unchanged was human nature after centuries and centuries of---- + +Colonel Ross-Ellison appeared. + +"Bring twenty-five men and follow me. Hurry up," he said quietly, and, a +minute later, led the way from the high-road across country. Five +minutes marching brought the party, advancing in file, to the mouth of a +nullah which ran parallel with the road. Along this, Colonel +Ross-Ellison led them, and, when he gave the signal to halt, it was seen +that they were behind a high sloping bank within fifty yards of the +high-road. + +"Now," said the Colonel to Captain John Bruce, "I'm going to leave you +here. Let your men lie below the top of the bank and if any man looks +over, till your command 'Up and fire,' kick his face in. You will peep +through that bit of bush and no one else will move. Do nothing until I +open fire from the other side. The moment I open fire, up your lot come +and do the same. Magazine, of course. The moon will improve as it rises +more. You'll fix bayonets and charge magazines now. I expect a pretty +big convoy--and before very long. Probably a mob all round a couple of +_bylegharies_[67] and a crowd following--everybody distrusting every +one, as it is treasure, looted from all round. Don't shoot the bullocks, +but I particularly want to kill a blind bloke who may be with 'em, so if +we charge, barge in too, and look out for a blinder and don't give him +any quarter--give him half instead--half your sword. He's a +ringleader--and I want him for auld lang syne too, as it happens. He +doesn't look blind at all, but he would be led.... Any questions?" + + [67] Bullock-carts. + +"No, Sir. I'm to hide till you fire. Then fire, magazine, and charge if +you do. A blind man to be captured if possible. The bullocks not to be +shot, if possible." + +"Eight O. Carry on," and the Colonel strode back to where the remaining +twenty-five waited, under a Sergeant. These he placed behind an old +stone wall that marked the boundary of a once-cultivated patch of land, +some forty yards from the road, to which the ground sloped sharply +downwards. + +A nice trap if all went well. + +All went exceeding well. + +Within an hour and a half of the establishment of the ambush, the +creaking of ungreased wheels was heard and the loud nasal singing of +some jovial soul. Down the silent deserted road came three bullock-carts +piled high with boxes and escorted by a ragged regiment of ex-sepoys, +ex-police, mutineers, almost a battalion from the forces of the wild +Border State neighbouring Gungapur. A small crowd of variously armed +uniformless men preceded the escort and carts, while a large one +followed them. + +No advance-guard nor flanking-parties guaranteed the force from ambush +or attack. + +Suddenly, as the carts crossed a long culvert and the escort perforce +massed on to the road, instead of straggling on either side beneath the +trees, a voice said coolly in English "Up and fire," and as scores of +surprised faces turned in the direction of the voice the night was rent +with the crash of fifty rifles pouring in magazine fire at the rate of +fifteen rounds a minute. Magazine fire at less than fifty yards, into a +close-packed body of men. Scarcely a hundred shots were returned and, by +the time a couple of thousand rounds had been fired (less than three +minutes), and Colonel Boss-Ellison had cried "Ch-a-a-a-r-ge" there was +but little to charge and not much for the bayonet to do. Of the six +bullocks four were uninjured. + +"Load as many boxes as you can on two carts, and leave half a dozen men +to bring them in. They'll have to take their chance. We must get back +_ek dum_,"[68] said Colonel Ross-Ellison. + + [68] At once. + +Even as he spoke, the sound of distant firing fell upon the ears of the +party and the unmistakable stammer-hammer racket of the maxim. + +"They're attacked, by Jove," he cried. "I thought it likely. There may +have been an idea that we should know something of this convoy and go +for it. All ready? Now a steady double. We'll double and quick-march +alternately. Double _march_." + + * * * * * + +Near the Military Prison was a low conical hill, bare of vegetation and +buildings, a feature of the situation which was a constant source of +anxiety to Colonel Ross-Ellison, for he realized that life in the +beleaguered fortress would be very much harder, and the casualty rate +very much higher, if the enemy had the sense to occupy it in strength +and fire down into the Prison. Against this contingency he always +maintained a picket there at night and a special sentry to watch it by +day, and he had caused deep trenches to be dug and a covered way made in +the Prison compound, so that the fire-swept area could be crossed, when +necessary, with the minimum of risk. Until the night of the +convoy-sortie, however, the enemy had not had the ordinary common sense +to grasp the fact that the hill was the key of the situation and to +seize it. + +"Bloomin' cold up 'ere, Privit Greens, wot?" observed Corporal Horace +Faggit to the famous Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., in kindly and +condescending manner, as he placed him back to back with Private +Augustus Grobble on the hill-top. "But you'll keep awake all the better +for that, me lad.... Now you other four men can go to sleep, see? +You'll lie right close up agin the feet o' Privits Greens an' Grabbles, +and when they've done their two hours, they'll jes' give two o' you a +kick and them two'll rise up an' take their plaices while they goes to +sleep. Then them two'll waike 'tother two, see? An' if hannyone +approaches, the sentry as is faicin' 'im will 'olleraht 'Alt! 'Oo comes +there?' an' if the bloke or blokes say, 'Friend,' then 'e'll say +'Hadvance one an' give the countersign,' and if he can't give no +countersign, then blow 'is bleedin' 'ead off, see?... Now _I_ shall +visit yer from time to time, an' let me find you spry an' smart with +yer,' _'Alt,' 'Oo comes there?_ see? An' if either sentry sees anythink +suspicious down below there--let 'im send the other sentry across fer me +over in the picket there, see? 'E'll waike up the others meanwhile an' +they'll all watch out till I comes and gives orders, see? An' if you're +attacked afore I come, then retire firing. Retire on the picket, see? We +won't shoot yer. Don't make a bloomin' blackguard-rush for the picket +though. Jest retire one by one firin' steady, see? Now I'm goin' back to +the picket. Ow! an' don' fergit the reconnoitrin' patrol. Don' go an' +shoot at 'em as they comes back. 'Alt 'em for the countersign as they +comes out, and 'alt 'em fer it agin as they comes in, see? Right O. Now +you keep yer eyes skinned, Greens and Grobbles." + +Private Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., had never looked really +impressive even on the public platform in over-long frock-coat and +turned-down collar. In ill-fitting khaki, ammunition boots, a helmet +many sizes too big, and badly-wound putties, he looked an extremely +absurd object. Private Augustus Grobble looked a little more +convincing, inasmuch as his fattish figure filled his uniform, but the +habit of wearing his helmet on the back of his neck and a general +congenital unmilitariness of habit and bearing, operated against +success. + +Two unhappier men rarely stood back to back upon a lonely, windy +hill-top. Both were very hungry, very sleepy and very cold, both were +essentially men of peace, and both had powerful imaginations--especially +of horrors happening to their cherished selves. + +Both were dealers in words; neither was conversant with things, facts, +deeds, and all that lay outside their inexpressibly artificial and +specialized little spheres. Each had been "educated" out of physical +manliness, self-reliance, courage, practical usefulness, adaptability, +"grit" and the plain virile virtues. + +Cornelius burned with a peevish indignation that he, writer of +innumerable pamphlets, speaker at innumerable meetings, organizer of +innumerable societies, compiler of innumerable statistics, author of +innumerable letters to the press, he, husband of the famous suffragist +worker, speaker, organizer and leader, Superiora Gosling-Green (a +Pounding-Pobble of the Pounding-Pobbles of Putney), that he, Cornelius +Gosling-Green, Esq., M.P., should be stuck there like a common soldier, +with a heavy and dangerous gun and a nasty sharp-pointed bayonet, to +stand and shiver while others slept. To stand, too, in a horribly +dangerous situation ... he had a good mind to resign in protest, to take +his stand upon his inalienable rights as a free Englishman. Who should +dare to coerce a Gosling-Green, Member of Parliament, of the Fabian +Society, and a hundred other "bodies". His Superiora did all the +coercing he wanted and more too. He would enter a formal protest and +tender his resignation. He had always, hitherto, been able to protest +and resign when things did not go as he wished. + +He yawned, and again. + +"I can see as well sitting or kneeling as I can standing," he remarked +to Private Augustus Grobble. + +"It is a great physiological truth," replied Augustus, and they both sat +down, leaning against each other for warmth and support, back to back. + +The soul of Augustus was filled with a melancholy sadness and a gentle +woe. To think that he, the loved of many beautiful Wimmin should be +suffering such hardships and running such risks. How his face was +falling in and how the wrinkles were gathering round his eyes. Some of +the beautiful and frail, of whom he thought when he gave his usual toast +after dinner, "To the Wimmin who have loved me," would hardly recognize +the fair boy over whom they had raved, whose poems they had loved, whose +hair, finger-nails, eyes, ties, socks and teeth they had complimented. A +cruel, cruel waste. But how rather romantic--the war-worn soldier! He +who knew his Piccadilly, Night Clubs, the theatres, the haunts of fair +women and brave men, standing, no--sitting, on a lonely hill-top +watching, watching, the lives of the garrison in his hands.... He would +return to those haunts, bronzed, lined, hardened--the man from the edge +of the Empire, from the back of Beyond, the man who had Done Things--and +talk of camp-fires, the trek, the Old Trail, smells of sea and desert +and jungle, and the man-stifled town, ... battle, ... brave deeds ... +unrecognized heroism ... a medal ... perhaps the ... and the nodding +head of Augustus settled upon his chest. + +His deep breathing and occasional snores did not attract the attention +of Private Gosling-Green, as Private Gosling-Green was sound asleep. Nor +did they awaken the weary four who made up the sentry group--Edward +Jones, educationist; Henry Grigg, barber; Walter Smith, shopman; +Reginald Ladon Gurr, Head of a Department--and whose right it was to +sleep so long as two of the six watched. + + * * * * * + +"Let there be no mistake then," said the burly Havildar Nazir Ali Khan +to one Hidayetulla, squat thick-set Pathan, "at the first shot from the +hill your party, ceasing to crawl, will rush upon the picket, and mine +will swoop upon the gate bearing the tins of kerosene oil, the faggots +and the brushwood. All those with guns will fire at the walls save the +Border State company who will reserve their fire till the gate is opened +or burnt down. The dogs within must either open it to extinguish the +fire, or it must burn. On their volley, all others will charge for the +gate with knife and sword. Do thou win the hill-top and keep up a heavy +fire into the Prison. There will be Lee-Metford rifles and ammunition +there ready for thy taking--ha-ha!" + +"And if we are seen and fired on as we stalk the picket on the hill?" + +"Then their first shot will, as I said, be the signal for your rush and +ours. Understandest thou?" + +"I understand. 'Tis a good plan of the blind Moulvie's." + +"Aye! He can _plan_,--and talk. We can go and be shot, and be blamed if +his plans miscarry," grumbled the big man, and added, "How many have +you?" + +"About forty," was the reply, "and all Khost men save seven, of whom +four are Afghans of Cabul, two are Punjabis, and one a Sikh." + +"Is it three hours since the treasure started? That was the time the +Moulvie fixed for the attack." + +"It must be, perhaps," replied the other. "Let us begin. But what if the +hill be not held, or if we capture it with the knife, none firing a +shot?" + +"Then get into good position, make little sungars where necessary, and, +all being ready, open fire into the Prison compound.... At the first +shot--whatever be thy luck--we shall rush in our thousands down the +Sudder Bazaar, West Street and Edward Street, and do as planned. Are thy +forty beneath the trees beyond the hill?" + +"They are. I join them now," and the squat broad-shouldered figure +rolled away with swinging, swaggering gait. + +Suddenly Private Augustus Grobble started from deep sleep to acutest +wide-eyed consciousness and was aware of a man's face peering over a +boulder not twenty yards from him--a hideous hairy face, surmounted by a +close-fitting skull-cap that shone greasy in the moonlight. The blood of +Augustus froze in his veins, he held his breath, his heart shook his +body, his tongue withered and dried. He closed his eyes as a wave of +faintness swept over him, and, as he opened them again, he saw that the +man was crawling towards him, and that between his teeth was a huge +knife. The terrible Pathan, the cruel dreadful stalker, the slashing +disemboweller was upon him!--and with a mighty effort he sprang to his +feet and fled for his life down the hill in the direction of the Prison. +His sudden movements awoke Private Green, who, in one scared glance, saw +a number of terrible forms arising from behind boulders and rushing +silently and swiftly towards him and his flying comrade. Leaping up he +fled after Grabble, running as he had never run before, and, even as he +leapt clear of the sleeping group, the wave of Pathans broke upon it and +with slash and stab assured it sound sleep for ever, all save Edward +Jones, who, badly wounded as he was, survived (to the later undoing of +Moussa Isa, murderer of a Brahmin boy). + +Of the four Pathans who had surprised the sentry group, one, with a +passing slash that re-arranged the face of Reginald Ladon Gurr, sped on +after the flying sentries. But that the man was short and stout of build +and that the fugitives had a down-hill start, both would have died that +night. As it was, within ten seconds, a tremendous sweep of the heavy +blade of the long Khyber knife caused Private Gosling-Green to lose his +head completely and for the last time. Augustus Grobble, favoured of +fortune for the moment, took flying leaps that would have been +impossible to him under other circumstances, bounded and ran +unstumbling, gained the shadow of the avenue of trees, and with bursting +breast sped down the road, reached the gate, shouted the countersign +with his remaining breath, and was dragged inside by Captain Michael +Malet-Marsac. + +"Well?" inquired he coldly of the gasping terrified wretch. + +When he could do so, Augustus sobbed out his tale. + +"Bugler, sound the alarm!" said the officer. "Sergeant of the Guard put +this man in the guard-room and keep him under arrest until he is sent +for," and, night-glasses in hand, he climbed one of the ladders leading +to the platform erected a few feet below the top of the well-loopholed +wall, just as a shot was fired and followed by others in rapid +succession on the hill whence Grobble had fled. + +The shot was fired by Corporal Horace Faggit and so were the next four +as he rapidly emptied his magazine at the swiftly charging Pathans who +rose out of the earth on his first shot at the man he had seen wriggling +to the cover of a stone. As he fired and shouted, the picket-sentry did +the same, and, within a minute of Horace's first shot, ten rifles were +levelled at the spot where the rushing silent fiends had disappeared. +Within thirty yards of them were at least half a dozen men--and not a +glimpse of one to be seen. + +"I got one, fer keeps, any'ow," said Horace in the silence that followed +the brief racket; "I see 'im drop 'is knife an' fall back'ards...." + +Perfect silence--and then ... _bang_ ... and a man standing beside +Horace grunted, coughed, and scuffled on the ground. + +"Get down! Get down! You fools," cried Horace, who was himself standing +up. "Wha's the good of a square sungar if you stands up in it? All +magazines charged? It's magazine-fire if there's a rush.".... + +Silence. + +"Fire at the next flash, all of yer," he said, "an' look out fer a +rush." Adding, "Bli' me--'ark at 'em dahn below," as a burst of fire +and a pandemonium of yells broke out. + +A yellow glare lit the scene, flickered on the sky, and even gave +sufficient light to the picket on the hill-top to see a wave of wild, +white-clad, knife-brandishing figures surge over the edge of the hill +and bear down upon them, to be joined, as they passed, by those who had +sunk behind stones at the picket's first fire. + +"Stiddy," shrilled Horace. "Aim stiddy at the b----s. _Fire_," and again +the charging line vanished. + +"Gone to earf," observed Horace in the silence. "Nah look aht for +flashes an' shoot at 'em...." + +_Bang!_ and Horace lost a thumb and a portion of his left cheek, which +was in line with his left thumb as he sighted his rifle. + +Before putting his left hand into his mouth he said, a little +unsteadily:-- + +"If I'm knocked aht you go on shootin' at flashes and do magazine-fire +fer rushes. If they gets in 'ere, we're tripe in two ticks." + +Then he fainted for a while, came to, and felt much better. "Goo' job +it's the left fumb," he observed as he strove to re-charge his magazine. +The dull thud of bullet into flesh became a frequent sound. The last +observation that Horace made to the remnant of his men was:-- + +"Bli' me! they're all rahnd us now--like flies rahnd a fish-barrer. Dam' +swine!..." + + * * * * * + +Firing steadily at the advancing mobs the street-end pickets retired on +the Prison and were admitted as the surging crowds amalgamated, +surrounded the walls, and opened a desultory fire at the loopholes and +such of the defenders as fired over the coping from ladders. + +One detachment, with some show of military discipline and uniform, +arrayed itself opposite the gate and a couple of hundred yards from it, +lining the ditch of the road, and utilizing the cover and shadow of the +trees. Suddenly a large party, mainly composed of Mahsuds, and headed by +a very big powerful man, made a swift rush to the gate, each man bearing +a bundle of faggots or a load of cut brushwood, save two or three who +bore vessels of kerosene oil. With reckless courage and daring, they ran +the gauntlet of the loopholes and the fire from the wall-top, piled +their combustibles against the wooden gate, poured gallons of kerosene +over the heap, set fire to it, and fled. + +The leaping flames spread and shot forth licking tongues and, in a few +minutes, the pile was a roaring crackling furnace. + +The mob grew denser and denser toward the gate side of the Prison, +leaving the remaining portions of the perimeter thinly surrounded by +those who possessed firearms and had been instructed to shoot at +loopholes and at all who showed themselves over the wall. It was +noticeable to Captain Malet-Marsac that the ever-increasing mob opposite +the fire left a clear front to the more-or-less uniformed and +disciplined body that had taken up a position commanding the gate. + +That was the game was it? Burn down the gate, pour in a tremendous fire +as the gate fell, and then let the mob rush in and do its devilmost.... + +What was happening on the hill-top? The picket must be holding whatever +force had attacked it, for no shots were entering the Prison compound +and the only casualties were among those at the loopholes and on the +ladders and platforms round the walls. How long would the gate last? +Absolutely useless to attempt to pour water on the fire. Even if it were +not certain death to attempt it, one might as well try to fly, as to +quench that furnace with jugs and _chatties_[69] of water. + + [69] Bowls. + +There was nothing to be done. Every man who could use a rifle was at +loophole or embrasure, ammunition was plentiful, all non-combatants were +hidden. Every one understood the standing-orders in case of such an +emergency.... + +The gate was on fire. It was smoking on the inner side, warping, +cracking, little flames were beginning to appear tentatively, and +disappear again. + +"_Now_ bugler!" said Captain Malet-Marsac, and Moussa Isa's _locum +tenens_ blew his only call--a series of long loud G's.... The gate +blazed, before long it would fall.... A hush fell upon the expectant +multitude without, the men of the more-or-less uniformed and disciplined +party raised their rifles, a big burly man bawled orders.... + +With a crash and leaping fountain of sparks the gate fell into the dying +fire, a mighty roar burst from the multitude, and a crashing fusillade +from the rifles of the uniformed men.... + +As their magazine-fire slackened, dwindled to a desultory popping, and +ceased, the mob with a howl of triumph surged forward to the gaping +gateway, trampled and scattered the glowing remnants of the fire, +swarmed yelling through, and--found themselves face to face with a +stout semicircular rampart of stone, earth and sandbags, which, +loopholed, embrasured and strongly manned, spanned the gateway in a +thirty-yard arc. From the centre of it, pointing at the entrance, looked +the maxim gun. + +"_Fire_," shouted a voice, and in a minute the place was a shambles. +Before Maxim and Lee-Metford were too hot to touch, before the baffled +foe fell back, those who surged in through the gate climbed, not over a +wall of dead, but up on to a platform of dead, a plateau through which +ran a valley literally blasted out by the ceaseless maxim-fire.... + +And, as the less fanatical, less courageous, less bloodthirsty withdrew +and gathered without and to one side, where they were safe from that +terrible fire-belching rampart that was itself like the muzzle of some +gigantic thousand-barrelled machine-gun, they were aware, in their rear, +of a steady tramp of running feet and of the orders:-- + +"From the centre _extend_! At the enemy in front; fixed sights; _fire_," +and of a withering hail of bullets. + +Colonel Ross-Ellison had arrived in the nick of time. It was a "crowning +mercy" indeed, the beginning of the end, and when (a few days later), +over a repaired bridge, came a troop-train, gingerly advancing, the +battalion of British troops that it disgorged at Gungapur Road Station +found disappointingly little to do in a city of women, children, and +eminently respectable innocent, householders. + + * * * * * + +On the hill-top, at dawn, Colonel Ross-Ellison and Captain Malet-Marsac +found all that was left of the picket and sentry-group,--of the latter, +three mangled corpses, the headless deserter, and a just-living man, +horribly slashed. It was Moussa Isa Somali who improvised a stretcher +and lifted this poor fellow on to it and tended him with the greatest +solicitude and faithful care. Was he not Jones Sahib who at Duri gave +him the knife wherewith he cleansed his honour and avenged his insulted +People? + +Of the picket, nine lay dead and one dying. Of the dead, one had his +lower jaw neatly and cleanly removed by a bullet. Two had bled to death. + +"'Ullo, Guvner!" whispered Corporal Horace Faggit through parched +cracked lips. "We kep' 'em orf. We 'eld the bleedin' fort," and the last +effect of the departing mind upon the shot-torn, knife-slashed body was +manifested in a gasping, quavering wail of-- + + "'Owld the Fort fer Hi am comin'" + Jesus whispers still. + "'Owld the Fort fer Hi am comin,'" + --By Thy graice we will. + +Each of these corpses Moussa Isa carried reverently down to the Prison +that they might be "buried darkly at dead of night" with the other +heroes, in softer ground without the walls--a curious funeral in which +loaded rifles and belted maxim played their silent part. Apart from the +honoured dead was buried the body of Private Augustus Grabble, shot +against the Prison wall by order of Colonel Ross-Ellison for cowardice +in the face of the enemy and desertion of his post. So was that of +Private Green, deserter also. After the uninterrupted ceremony, Moussa +Isa, in the guise of an ancient beggar, lame, decrepit, and bandaged +with foul rags, sought the city and the news of the bazaar. + +Limping down the lane in which stood the tall silent house that his +master often visited, he saw three men emerge from the well-known low +doorway. + +Two approached him while one departed in the opposite direction. One of +these two held the arm of the other. + +"I must hear his voice again. I have not heard his voice again," urged +this one insistently to the other. + +"Nay--but I have heard thine, thou Dog!" said Moussa Isa to himself, and +turning, followed. + +In a neighbouring bazaar the man who seemed to lead the other left him +at the entrance to a mosque--a dark and greasy entry with a short flight +of stone steps. + +As he set his foot upon the lowest of these, a hand fell upon the neck +of the man who had been led, and a voice hissed:-- + +"_Salaam! O Ibrahim the Weeper!_ Salaam! A '_Hubshi_' would speak with +thee...." and another hand joined the first, encircling his throat.... + +"Art thou dead, Dog?" snarled Moussa Isa, five minutes later.... + +Moussa Isa never boasted (if he realized the fact) that the collapse of +the revolt and mutiny in Gungapur, before the arrival of troops, was due +as much to the death of its chief ringleader and director, the blind +faquir, as to the disastrous repulse of the great assault upon the +Military Prison. + + + + + +§ 2. + + +It had gone. Nothing remained but to clear up the mess and begin afresh +with more wisdom and sounder policy. It was over, and, among other +things now possible, Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison might ask the woman +he loved whether she could some day become his wife. He had saved her +life, watched over her, served her with mind and body, lived for her. +And she had smiled upon him, looked at him as a woman looks at the man +she more than likes, had given him the encouragement of her smiles, her +trust, affectionate greeting on return from danger, prayers that he +would be "careful" when he went forth to danger. + +He believed that she loved him, and would, after a decent interval, even +perhaps a year hence, marry him. + +And then he would abandon the old life and ways, become wholly English +and settle down to make her life a happy walk through an enchanted +valley. He would take her to England and there, far from all sights, +sounds and smells of the East, far from everything wild, turbulent, +violent, crush out all the Pathan instincts so terribly aroused and +developed during the late glorious time of War. He would take himself +cruelly in hand. He would neither hunt nor shoot. He would eat no meat, +drink no alcohol, nor seek excitement. He would school himself until he +was a quiet, domesticated English country-gentleman--respectable and +respected, fit husband for a delicately-bred English gentlewoman. And if +ever his hand itched for the knife-hilt, his finger for the trigger, +his cheek for the rifle-butt, his nostrils for the smell of the +cooking-fires, his soul for the wild mountain passes, the mad gallop, +the stealthy stalk--he would live on cold water until the Old Adam were +drowned. + +He _would_ be worthy of her--and she should never dream what blood was +on his hands, what sights he had looked on, what deeds he had done, what +part he had played in wild undertakings in wild places. English would he +be to the back-bone, to the finger tips, to the marrow; a quiet, clean, +straight-dealing Englishman of normal tastes, habits, and life. + +Strange if, with all his love of fighting, he could not fight (and +conquer) himself. Yes--his last great fight should be with himself.... +He would call, to-day, at the bungalow to which Mrs. Dearman, prior to +starting for Home, had removed as soon as the carefully-guarded +Cantonment area was pronounced absolutely safe as a place of residence +for the refugees who had been besieged in the old Military Prison. + +She would be sufficiently "straight" in her bungalow, by this time, to +permit of a formal mid-day call being a reasonable and normal affair.... + +"Good-morning, Preserver of Gungapur," said Mrs. Dearman brightly; "have +the Victoria Cross and the Distinguished Service Order materialized +yet--or don't they give them to Volunteers? What a shame if they don't!" + +"I want something far more valuable and desirable than those, Mrs. +Dearman," said Colonel Ross-Ellison as he took the extended hand of his +hostess, who was a picture of coolness and health. + +"Oh?--and--what is that?" she asked, seating herself on a big settee +with her back to the light. + +"You," was the direct and uncompromising reply of the man who had been +leading a remarkably direct and uncompromising life for several years. + +Mrs. Dearman trembled, flushed and paled. + +"What _do_ you mean?" she managed to say, with a fine affectation of +coolness, unconcern, and indifference. + +"I mean what I say," was the answer. "I want _you_. I cannot live +without you. I want to take care of you. I want to devote my life to +making you happy. I want to make you forget this terrible experience and +tragedy. You are lonely and I worship you. I want you to marry me--when +you can--later--and let me serve you for the rest of my life. Make me +the happiest and proudest man in the world and I will strive to be the +noblest." + +He was very English then--in his fine passion. He took her hand and it +was not withdrawn. He bent to look in her eyes, she smiled, and in a +second was in his embrace, strained to his breast, her lips crushed by +his. + +For a minute he could not speak. + +"I cannot believe it," he whispered at length. "Is this a dream?" + +"You are a very concrete dream--dear," said Mrs. Dearman, re-arranging +crushed and disarranged flowers at her breast, blushing and laughing +shyly. + +The man was filled with awe, reverence and a deep longing for +worthiness. + +The woman felt happy in the sense of safety, of power, of pride in the +love of so fine a being. + +"And how long have you loved me?" she murmured. + +"Loved you, Cleopatra? Dearest--I have loved you from the moment my eyes +first fell on you.... Poor salt-encrusted, weary, bloodshot eyes they +were too," he added, smiling, reminiscent. + +"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Dearman, puzzled. + +"Ah--I have a secret to tell you--a confession that will open those +beautiful eyes wide with surprise. I first saw you when you _were_ +Cleopatra Brighte." + +"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Dearman in great surprise. "When_ever_ +when?" + +"I'll tell you," said the man, smiling fondly. "You have my photograph. +You took it yourself--on board the 'Malaya'." + +"I?" said Mrs. Dearman. "What _are_ you talking about?" + +"About you, dearest, and the time when I first saw you--and fell in love +with you;--love at first sight, indeed." + +"But I never photographed you on board ship. I never saw you on a ship. +I met you first here in Gungapur." + +"Do you remember the 'Malaya' stopping to pick up a shipwrecked sailor, +a castaway, in a little dug-out canoe, somewhere in the Indian Ocean, +when you were first coming out to India? But of course you do--you have +the snap-shot in your collection...." + +"Why--yes--I remember, of course--but that was a horrid, beastly +_native_. The creature could only speak Hindustani. He was the sole +survivor of the crew of some dhow or bunder-boat, they said.... He lived +and worked with the Lascars till we got to Bombay. Yes...." + +"I was that native," said Colonel Ross-Ellison. + +"_You_," whispered Mrs. Dearman. "_You_," and scanned his face intently. + +"Yes. I. I _am_ half a native. My father was a Pathan. He----" + +"_What_?" asked the woman hoarsely, drawing away. "_What_? _What_ are +you saying?" + +"I am half Pathan--my father was a Pathan and my mother an Australian +squatter's daughter." + +"_Go_," shrieked Mrs. Dearman, springing to her feet. "_Go_. You wretch! +You mean, base liar! To cheat me so! To pretend you were a gentleman. +Leave my house! Go! You horrible--_mongrel_--you----. To take me in your +arms! To make love to me! To kiss me! Ugh! I could die for shame! I +could _die_----" + +The face of the man grew terrible to see. There was no trace of the West +in it, no sign of English ancestry, the face of a mad, blood-mad Afghan. + +"_We will both die_," he gasped, and took her by the throat. + + * * * * * + +A few minutes later a Pathan in the dirty dress of his race fled from +Colonel Ross-Ellison's bungalow in Cantonments and took the road to the +city. + +Threading his way through its tortuous lanes, alleys, slums and bazaars +he reached a low door in the high wall that surrounded an almost +windowless house, knocked in a particular manner, parleyed, and was +admitted. + +The moment he was inside, the custodian of the door slammed, locked and +bolted it, and then raised an outcry. + +"Come," he shouted in Pushtoo. "The Spy! The Feringhi! The +Pushtoo-knowing English dog, that Abdulali Habbibullah," and he drew his +Khyber knife and circled round Ross-Ellison. + +A clatter of heavy boots, the opening of wooden "windows" that looked +inward on to the high-walled courtyard, and in a minute a throng of +Pathans and other Mussulmans entered the compound from the house--some +obviously aroused from heavy slumber. + +"It is he," cried one, a squat, broad-shouldered fellow, as they stood +at gaze, and long knives flashed. + +"Oho, Spy! Aha, Dog! For what hast thou come?" asked one burly fellow as +he advanced warily upon the intruder, who backed slowly to the angle of +the high walls. + +"To die, Hidayetullah. To die, Nazir Ali Khan. To die slaying! Come on!" +was the reply, and in one moment the speaker's Khyber knife flashed from +his loose sleeve into the throat of the nearest foe. + +As he withdrew it, the door-keeper slashed at his abdomen, missed by a +hair's-breadth, raised his arm to save his neck from a slash, and was +stabbed to the heart, the knife held dagger-wise. Another Pathan rushing +forward, with uplifted knife held as a sword, was met by a sudden low +fencing-lunge and fell with a hideous wound, and then, whirling his +weapon like a claymore in an invisibly rapid Maltese cross of flashing +steel, the man who had been Ross-Ellison drove his enemies before him, +whirled about, and established himself in the opposite corner, and spat +pungent Border taunts at the infuriated crowd. + +"Come on, you village curs, you landless cripples, you wifeless sons of +burnt fathers! Come on! Strike for the credit of your noseless mothers! +Run not from me as your wives ran from you--to better men! Come on, you +sweepers, you swine-herds, you down-country street-scrapers!" and they +came on to heart's content, steel clashed on steel and thudded on flesh +and bone. + +"Get a rifle," cried one, lying bleeding on the ground, striving to rise +while he held his right shoulder to his neck with his partly severed +left hand. As he fainted the shoulder gaped horribly. + +"Get a cannon," mocked Ross-Ellison. "Get a cannon, dogs, against one +man," and again, whirling the great jade-handled knife, long as a short +sword, he rushed forward and the little mob gave ground before the +irresistible claymore-whirl, the unbreakable Maltese cross described by +the razor-edge and needle-point. + +"It is a devil," groaned a man, as his knife and his hand fell together +to the ground, and he clapped his turban on the stump as a boy claps his +hat upon some small creature that he would capture. + +The madman whirled about in the third corner and, as he ceased the wild +whirl, ducked low and lunged, lessening the number of his enemies by +one. This lunge was a new thing to men who could only slash and stab, a +new thing and a terrible, for it could not be parried save by seizing +the blade and losing half a hand. + +"Come on, you growing maidens! Come on, grandmothers! Come on, you +cleaners of pig-skins, you washers of dogs! Come on!" and as he +shouted, the door crashed down and a patrol of British soldiers, +attracted by the noise, and delayed by the stout door, burst into the +courtyard. + +"At the henemy in front, fixed sights," shouted the corporal in charge. +And added an order not to be found in the drill-book: "Blow 'em to 'ell +if they budges." + +In the hush of surprise his voice arose, addressing the fighters: +"_Bus_[70] you bleedin' soors,[71]" said Corporal Cook. "_Bus_; and you +_dekho_[72] 'ere. If any of you _jaos_[73] from where 'e is, I'll +_pukkaro_[74] 'im and give 'im a punch in the _dekho_." + + [70] Enough, stop. + [71] Swine. + [72] Look. + [73] Jao = go (imperative). + [74] Seize (imperative). + +And, as bayonets rose breast-high and fingers curled lovingly round +triggers, every knife but that of Ross-Ellison disappeared as by magic, +and the Corporal beheld a little crowd of innocent men endeavouring to +secure a dangerous lunatic at the risk of their lives--terrible risk, as +the bodies of five dead and dying men might testify. + +"I give myself up to you as a murderer, Corporal," said he who had been +Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison. "I am a murderer. If you will take me +before your officer I will confess and give details." + +"I'm agoin' to take you bloomin' well all," replied the surprised +Corporal. "Chuck down that there beastly carvin' knife. You seem a too +'andy cove wiv' it." + +At the Corporal's order of, "Prod 'em all up agin that wall and shoot +any bloke as moves 'and or 'oof," the party of panting, bleeding and +perspiring ruffians was lined up, relieved of its weapons, and duly +marched to the guard-room. + +Here, one of the gang (later identified as the man who had been known +as John Robin Ross-Ellison, and who insisted that he was a Baluchi) +declared that he had just murdered Mrs. Dearman in her drawing-room and +made a full statement--a statement found to be only too true, its +details corroborated by a trembling _hamal_ who had peeped and listened, +as all Indian servants peep and listen. + + * * * * * + +Duly tried, all members of the gang received terms of imprisonment +(largely a prophylactic measure), save the extraordinary +English-speaking Baluchi, who had long imposed, it was said, upon +Gungapur Society in the days before that Society had disappeared in the +cataclysm. + +A few days before the date fixed for the execution of this very +remarkable desperado, Captain Michael Malet-Marsac, Adjutant of the +Gungapur Volunteer Corps, received two letters dated from Gungapur Jail, +one covering the other. The covering letter ran:-- + +"MY DEAR MALET-MARSAC, + +"I forward the enclosed. Should you desire to attend the execution you +could accompany the new City Magistrate, Wellson, who will doubtless be +agreeable. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"A. RANALD, Major I.M.S." + +The accompaniment was from John Robin Ross-Ellison Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan. + +"MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, + +"For the credit of the British I am pretending to be a Baluchi. I am not +a Baluchi and I hope to die like a Briton--at any rate like a man. I +have been held responsible for what I did when I was not responsible, +and shall be killed in cold blood by sane people, for what I did in hot +blood when quite as mad as any madman who ever lived. I don't +complain--I _ex_plain. I want you to understand, if you can, that it was +not your friend John Ross-Ellison who did that awful deed. It was a +Pathan named Ilderim Dost Mahommed. And yet it was I." ["Poor chap is +mad!" murmured the bewildered and horrified reader who had lived in a +kind of nightmare since the woman he loved had been murdered by the man +he loved. "The strain of the war has been too much for him. He must have +had sunstroke too." He read on, with misty sight.] + +"And it is I who will pay the penalty of Ilderim Dost Mahommed's deed. +As I say, I do not complain, and if the Law did not kill me I would +certainly kill myself--to get rid of Ilderim Dost Mahommed. + +"I have thought of doing so and cheating the scaffold, but have decided +that Ilderim will get his deserts better if I hang, and I may perhaps +get rid of him, thus, for ever. + +"Will you come? I would not ask it of any living soul but you, and I ask +it because your presence would show me that you blindly believe that it +was not John Robin Ross-Ellison who killed poor Mrs. Dearman, and that +would enable me to die quite happy. Your presence would also be a great +help to me. It would help me to feel that, whatever I have lived, I die +a Briton--that if I could not live without Ilderim Dost Mahommed I can +die without him. But this must seem lunatic wanderings to you. + +"I apologize for writing to you and I hesitated long. At length I said, +'I will tell him the truth--that the deed was not done by Ross-Ellison +and perhaps he will understand, and come'. Mike--_John Robin +Ross-Ellison did not murder Mrs. Dearman_. + +"Your distracted and broken-hearted ex-friend, + +"J.R. ROSS-ELLISON." + +"He _was_ 'queer' at times," said Captain Michael Malet-Marsac. "There +was a kink somewhere. The bravest, coolest, keenest chap I ever met, the +finest fighting-man, the truest comrade and friend,--and from time to +time something queer peeped out, and one was puzzled.... Madness in the +family, I suppose.... Poor devil, poor, poor devil!" and Captain +Malet-Marsac stamped about and swore, for his eyes tingled and his chin +quivered. + + + +§ 3. + + +Captain Michael Malet-Marsac alighted from his horse at the great gate +of the Gungapur Jail, loosed girths, slid stirrup irons up the leathers +to the saddle, and handed his reins to the orderly who had ridden behind +him. + +"Walk the horses up and down," said he, for both were sweating and the +morning was very cold. Perhaps it was the cold that made Captain Michael +Malet-Marsac's strong face so white, made his teeth chatter and his +hands shake. Perhaps it was the cold that made him feel so sick, and +that weakened the tendons of his knees so that he could scarcely +stand--and would fain have thrown himself upon the ground. + +With a curious coughing sound, as though he swallowed and cleared his +throat at the same moment, he commenced to address another order or +remark to the mounted sepoy, choked, and turned his back upon him. + +Striding to the gate, he struck upon it loudly with his hunting-crop, +and turning, waved the waiting orderly away. + +Not for a king's ransom could he have spoken at that moment. He realized +that something which was rising in his throat must be crushed back and +swallowed before speech would be possible. If he tried to speak before +that was done--he would shame his manhood, he would do that which was +unthinkable in a man and a soldier. What would happen if the little iron +wicket in the great iron door in the greater wooden gates opened before +he had swallowed the lump in his throat, had crushed down the rising +tumult of emotion, and a European official, perhaps Major Ranald +himself, spoke to him? He must either refuse to answer, and show himself +too overcome for speech--or he must--good God forbid it--burst into +tears. He suffered horribly. His skin tingled and he burnt hotly from +head to foot. + +And then--he swallowed, his will triumphed--and he was again as +outwardly self-possessed and nonchalant as he strove to appear. + +He might tremble, his face might be blanched and drawn, he might feel +physically sick and almost too weak and giddy to stand, but he had +swallowed, he had triumphed over the rising flood that had threatened +to engulf him, and he was, outwardly, himself again. He could go through +with it now, and though his face might be ghastly, his lips white, his +hand uncertain, his gait considered and careful, he would he able to +chat lightly, to meet Ross-Ellison's jest with jest--for that +Ross-Ellison would die jesting he knew.... + +Why did not the door open? Had his knock gone unheard? Should he knock +again, louder? And then his eye fell upon the great iron bell-pull and +chain, and he stepped towards it. Of course--one entered a place like +this on the sonorous clanging of a deep-throated bell that roused the +echoes of the whole vast congeries of buildings encircled by the hideous +twelve-foot wall, unbroken save by the great gatehouse before which he +stood insignificant. As his shaking hand touched the bell-pull he +suddenly remembered, and withdrew it. He was to meet the City Magistrate +outside the jail and enter with him. He could gain admittance in no +other way. + +He looked at his watch. Seventeen minutes to seven. Wellson should be +there in a minute--he had said, "At the jail-entrance at 6.45". God send +him soon or the new-found self-control might weaken and a rising tide +creep up and up until it submerged his will-power again. + +With an effort he swallowed, and turning, strode up and down on a rapid, +mechanical sentry-go. + +A guard of police-sepoys emerged from a neighbouring guard-room and +"fell in" under the word of command of an Inspector. They were armed +with Martini-Henry rifles and triangular-bladed bayonets, very long. +Their faces looked cruel, the stones of the gate-house and main-guard +looked cruel, the beautiful misty morning looked cruel. + +Would that damned magistrate never come? Didn't he know that +Malet-Marsac was fighting for his manhood and terribly afraid? Didn't he +know that unless he came quickly Malet-Marsac would either leap on his +horse and ride it till it fell, or else lose control inside the jail and +either burst into tears, faint, or--going mad--put up a fight for his +friend there in the jail itself, snatch weapons, get back to back with +him and die fighting then and there--or, later, on the same scaffold? +His friend--by whose side he had fought, starved, suffered, +triumphed--his poor two-natured friend.... + +Could not one of these cursed clever physicians, alienists, +psychologists, hypnotists--whatever they were--have cut the strange +savagery and ferocity out of the splendid John Robin Ross-Ellison?... + +A buffalo passed, driven by a barely human lout. The lout was free--the +brainless, soulless bovine lout was free in God's beautiful world--and +Ross-Ellison, soldier and gentleman, lay in a stone cell, and in quarter +of an hour would dangle by the neck in a pit below a platform--perhaps +suffering unthinkable agonies--who could tell?... His old friend and +commandant-- + +Would Wellson never come? What kept the fellow? It was disgraceful +conduct on the part of a public servant in such circumstances. Think +what an eternity of mental suffering each minute must now be to +Ross-Ellison! What was he doing? What were they doing to him? _Could_ +the agony of Ross-Ellison be greater than that of Malet-Marsac? It must +be a thousand times greater. How could that tireless activity, that +restless initiative, that cool courage, that unfathomable ingenuity be +quenched in a second? How could such a wild free nature exist in a cell, +submit to pinioning, be quietly led like a sheep to the slaughter? He +who so loved the mountain, the wild desert, the ocean, the free +wandering life of adventure and exploration. + +Would Wellson never come? It must be terribly late. Could they have +hanged Ross-Ellison already? Could he have gone to his death thinking +his friend had failed him; had passed by, like the Levite, on the other +side; had turned up a sanctimonious nose at the letter of the Murderer; +had behaved as some "friends" do behave in time of trouble? + +Could he have died thinking this? If so, he must now know the truth, if +the Parsons were right, those unconvincing very-human Parsons of like +passions, and pretence of unlike passions. Could his friend be dead, his +friend whom he had so loved and admired? And yet he was a murderer--and +he had murdered ... _her_.... + +Captain Michael Malet-Marsac leant against a tree and was violently +sick. + +Curse the weak frail body that was failing him in his hour of need! It +had never failed him in battle nor in athletic struggle. Why should it +weaken now. He _would_ see his friend, and bear himself as a man, to +help him in his dreadful hour. + +Would that scoundrel never come? He was the one who should be hanged. + +A clatter of hoofs behind, and Malet-Marsac turned to see the City +Magistrate trot across the road from the open country. He drew out his +watch accusingly and as a torrent of reproach rose to his white parched +lips, he saw that the time was--exactly quarter to seven. + +"'Morning, Marsac," said the City Magistrate as he swung down from the +saddle. "You're looking precious blue about the gills." + +"'Morning, Wellson," replied the other shortly. + +To the City Magistrate a hanging was no more than a hair-cut, a neither +pleasing nor displeasing interlude, hindering the doing of more +strenuous duties; a nuisance, cutting into his early-morning +report--writing and other judicial work. He handed his reins to an +obsequious sepoy, eased his jodhpores at the knee, and rang the bell. + +The grille-cover slid back, a dusky face appeared behind the bars and +scrutinized the visitors, the grille was closed again and the tiny door +opened. Malet-Marsac stepped in over the foot-high base of the door-way +and found himself in a kind of big gloomy strong-room in which were +native warders and a jailer with a bunch of huge keys. On either side of +the room was an office. Following Wellson to a large desk, on which +reposed a huge book, he wrote his name, address, and business, +controlling his shaking hand by a powerful effort of will. + +This done, and the entrance-door being again locked, bolted, and barred, +the jailer led the way to another pair of huge gates opposite the pair +through which they had entered, and opened a similar small door therein. +Through this Malet-Marsac stepped and found himself, light-dazzled, in +the vast enclosure of Gungapur Jail, a small town of horribly-similar +low buildings, painfully regular streets, soul-stunning uniformity, and +living death. + +"'Morning, Malet-Marsac," said Major Ranald of the Indian Medical +Service, Superintendent of the jail. "You look a bit blue about the +gills, what?" + +"'Morning, Ranald," replied Malet-Marsac, "I _am_ a little cold." + +Was he really speaking? Was that voice his? He supposed so. + +Could he pretend to gaze round with an air of intelligent interest? He +would try. + +A line of convicts, clad in a kind of striped sacking, stood with their +backs to a wall while a native warder strode up and down in front of +them, watching another convict placing brushes and implements before +them. Suddenly the warder spoke to the end man, an elderly stalwart +fellow, obviously from the North. The reply was evidently +unsatisfactory, perhaps insolent, for the warder suddenly seized the +grey beard of the convict, tugged his head violently from side to side, +shook him, and then smote him hard on either cheek. The elderly convict +gave no sign of having felt either the pain or the indignity, but gazed +straight over the warder's head. Of what was he thinking? Of what might +be the fate of that warder were he suddenly transported to the wilds of +Kathiawar, to lie at the mercy of his late victim and the famous band of +outlaws whom he had once led to fame--a fame as wide as Ind? + +There was something fine about the old villain, once a real Robin Hood, +something mean about the little tyrant. + +Had Ranald seen the incident? No, he stood with his back to a buttress +looking in the opposite direction. Did he always stand with a wall +behind him in this terrible place? How could he live in it? A minute of +it made one sick if one were cursed with imagination. Oh, the horror of +the prison system--especially for brave men, men with a code of honour +of their own--possibly sometimes a higher code than that of the average +British politician, not to mention the be-knighted cosmopolitan +financier, friend of princes and honoured of kings. + +Could not men be segregated in a place of peace and beauty and improved, +instead of being segregated in a dull hell and crushed? What a home of +soulless, hopeless horror!... And his friend was here.... Could he +contain himself?... He must say something. + +"Do you always keep your back to a wall when standing still, in here?" +he asked of Major Ranald. + +"I do," was the reply, "and I walk with a trustworthy man close behind +me." "Would you like to go round, sometime?" he added. + +"No, thank you," said Malet-Marsac. "I would like to get as far away as +possible and stay there." + +Major Ranald laughed. + +"Wouldn't like to visit the mortuary and see a post-mortem?" + +"No, thank you." + +"What about the Holy One?" put in the City Magistrate. "Did you +'autopsy' him? A pleasure to hang a chap like him." + +"Yes, the brute. I'll show you his neck vertebrae presently if you like. +Kept 'em as a curiosity. An absolute break of the bone itself. People +talk about pain, strangulation, suffocation and all that. Nothing of +the sort. Literally breaks the neck. Not mere separation of the +vertebrae you know. I'll show you the vertebra itself--clean broken...." + +Captain Malet-Marsac swayed on his feet. What should he do? A blue mist +floated before his eyes and a sound of rushing waters filled his ears. +Was he fainting? He must _not_ faint, and fail his friend. And then, the +roar of the waters was pierced and dominated by the voice of that friend +saying-- + +"Hul_lo_! old bird. Awf'ly good of you to turn out, such a beastly cold +morning." + +John Robin Ross-Ellison had come round an adjacent corner, a European +warder on either side of him and another behind him, all three, to their +credit, as white as their white uniforms and helmets. On his head was a +curious bag-like cap. + +Ross-Ellison appeared perfectly cheerful, absolutely natural, and +without the slightest outward and visible sign of any form of +perturbation. + +"'Morning, Ranald," he continued. "Sorry to be the cause of turning you +out in the cold. Gad! _isn't_ it parky. Hope you aren't going to keep me +standing. If I might be allowed I'd quote unto you the words which a +pretty American girl once used when I asked if I might kiss her--'_Wade +right in, Bub!_'" + +"'Fraid I can't 'wade in' till seven o'clock--er--Ross-Ellison," +answered the horribly embarrassed Major Ranald. "It won't be long." + +"Right O, I was only thinking of your convenience. _I'm_ all right," +said the remarkable criminal, about to suffer by the Mosaic law at the +hands of Christians, to receive Old Testament mercy from the disciples +of the New, to be done-by as he had done. + +An Indian clerk, salaaming, joined the group, and prepared to read from +an official-looking document. + +"Read," said Major Ranald, and the clerk in a high sing-song voice, +regardless of punctuation, read out the charge, conviction and +death-warrant of the man formerly calling himself John Robin +Ross-Ellison, and now professing and confessing himself to be a Baluchi. +Having finished, the clerk smiled as one well pleased with a duty well +performed, salaamed and clacked away in his heelless slippers. + +"It is my duty to inquire whether you have anything to say or any last +request to make," said Major Ranald to the prisoner. + +"Well, I've only to say that I'm sorry to cause all this fuss, y' +know--and, well, yes, I _would_ like a smoke," replied the condemned +man, and added hastily: "Don't think I want to delay things for a moment +though--but if there is time...." + +"It is four minutes to seven," said Major Ranald, "and tobacco and +matches are not supposed to be found in a Government Jail." + +Ross-Ellison winked at the Major and glanced at a bulge on the right +side of the breast of the Major's coat. + +At this moment the warder standing behind the condemned man seized both +his wrists, drew them behind him and fastened them with a broad, strong +strap. + +"H'm! That's done it, I suppose," said the murderer. "Can't smoke +without my hands. Queer idea too--never thought of it before. Can't +smoke without hands.... Rather late in life to realize it, what?" + +"Oh, yes, you can," said the Major, drawing his big silver cheroot-case +from his pocket and selecting a cheroot. Placing it between the +prisoner's lips he struck a match and held it to the end of the cigar. +Ross-Ellison drew hard and the cigar was lit. He puffed luxuriously and +sighed. + +"Gad! That's good," he said, "May some one do as much for you, old chap, +when _you_ come to be--er--no, I don't mean that, of course.... Haven't +had a smoke for weeks. Yes--you can smoke without hands after all--but +not for long without feeling the inconvenience. I used to know an +American (wicked old gun-running millionaire he was, Cuba way, and down +South too) who could change his cigar from one corner of his mouth right +across to the other with his tongue. Fascinatin' sight to watch...." + +Captain Malet-Marsac swallowed continuously, lest he lose the faculty of +swallowing--and be choked. + +Major Ranald looked at his watch. + +"Two minutes to seven. Come on," he said, and took the cheroot from the +prisoner's mouth. + +"Good-bye, Mike," said that person to the swallowing fainting wretch. +"Don't try and say anything. I know exactly what you feel. Sorry we +can't shake hands," and he stepped off in the wake of Major Ranald, +closely guarded by three warders. + +The City Magistrate and Captain Malet-Marsac followed. At Major Ranald's +knock, the small inner door of the gate-house was opened and the +procession filed through it into the strong room where the warders +stood to attention. Having re-fastened the door, the jailer opened the +outer one and the procession passed out of the jail into the blessed +free world, the world that might be such a place of wonder, beauty, +delight, health and joy, were man not educated to materialism, false +ideals, false standards, and blind strife for nothing worth. + +The sepoy-guard stood in a semicircle from the gate-house to the +entrance to a door-way in the jail-wall. Ross-Ellison took his last look +at the sky, the distant hills, the trees, God's good world, and then +turned into the doorless door-way with his jailers, and faced the +scaffold in a square, roofless cell. The warder behind him drew the cap +down over his face, and he was led up a flight of shallow stairs on to a +platform on which was a roughly-chalked square where two hinged flaps +met. As he stood on this spot the noose of the greased rope was placed +round his neck by a warder who then looked to Major Ranald for a sign, +received it, and pulled over a lever which withdrew the bolts supporting +the hinged flaps. These fell apart, Ross-Ellison dropped through the +platform, and Christian Society was avenged. + +Without a word, Captain Malet-Marsac strode, as in a dream, to his +horse, rode home, and, as in a dream, entered his sanctum, took his +revolver from its holster and loaded it. + +Laying it on the table beside him, he sat down to write a few words to +the Colonel of his regiment, Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley of the 99th +Baluch Light Infantry, and to send his will to a brother-officer whom he +wished to be his executor. + +This done, he took up the revolver, placed the muzzle in his mouth, the +barrel pointing upward, and--pulled the trigger. + +_Click_! + +And nothing more. + +A tiny, nerve-shattering, world-shaking, little universe-rocking +_click_--and nothing more. + +A bad cartridge. He remembered complaints about the revolver ammunition +from the Duri Small Arms Ammunition Factory. Too long in stock. + +Should he try the same one again, or go on to the next? Probably get +better results from the first, as the cap would be already dented by the +concussion. He took the muzzle of the big revolver from his aching mouth +and, releasing the chamber, spun it round.... He would place it to his +temple this time. Holding one's mouth open was undignified. He raised +the revolver--and John Bruce burst into the room. He had seen +Malet-Marsac ride by, and knew where he had been. + +"Half a second!" he shouted. "News! Do that afterwards." + +"What is it?" asked Malet-Marsac, taken by surprise. + +"Put that beastly thing in the drawer while I tell you, then. It might +go off. I hate pistols," said Bruce. + +Malet-Marsac obeyed. Bruce was a man to be listened to, and what had to +be done could be done when he had gone. If it were some last piece of +duty or service, it should be seen to. + +"It is this," said Bruce. "You are a liar, a forger, a thief, a dirty +pickpocket, a coward, a seller of secrets to Foreign Powers," and, ere +the astounded soldier could speak, John Bruce sprang at him and tried to +knock him out. "Take that you greasy cad--and fight me if you dare," he +shouted as the other dodged his punch. + +Malet-Marsac sprang to his feet, furious, and returned the blow. In a +second the men were fighting fiercely, coolly, murderously. + +Bruce was the bigger, stronger, more scientific, and there could be but +one result, given ordinary luck. It was a long, severe, and punishing +affair. + +"Time," gasped Malet-Marsac at length, and dropped his hands. +"Get--breath--fight--decently--time--'nother round--after," and as he +spoke Bruce knocked him down and out, proceeding instantly to tie his +feet with the punkah-cord and his hands with two handkerchiefs and a +pair of braces. This done, he carried him into his bedroom, and laid him +on the bed, and sprinkled his face with water. + +Malet-Marsac blinked and stirred. + +"Awful sorry, old chap," said Bruce at length. "I thought it the best +plan. Will you give me your word to chuck the suicide idea, or do you +want some more?" + +"You damned fool! I...." began the trussed one. + +"Yes, I know--but I solemnly swear I won't untie you, nor let anybody +else, until you've promised." + +Malet-Marsac swore violently, struggled valiantly and, anon, slept. + +When he awoke, ten hours later, he informed Bruce, sitting by the bed, +that he had no intention of committing suicide.... + +Years later, as a grey-haired Major, he learnt, from the man's own +brother, the story of the strange hero who had fascinated him, and of +whose past he had known nothing--save that it had been that of a _man_. + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Driftwood Spars, by Percival Christopher Wren + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 11691 *** diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8c1f170 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #11691 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/11691) diff --git a/old/11691-8.txt b/old/11691-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b50f4d8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/11691-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9373 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Driftwood Spars, by Percival Christopher Wren + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Driftwood Spars + The Stories of a Man, a Boy, a Woman, and Certain Other People Who + Strangely Met Upon the Sea of Life + + +Author: Percival Christopher Wren + +Release Date: March 23, 2004 [EBook #11691] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRIFTWOOD SPARS *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + +DRIFTWOOD SPARS + +THE STORIES OF A MAN, A BOY, A WOMAN, AND CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE WHO +STRANGELY MET UPON THE SEA OF LIFE + +BY + +CAPTAIN PERCIVAL CHRISTOPHER WREN, I.A.R. + +AUTHOR OF "DEW AND MILDEW", "FATHER GREGORY", "SNAKE AND SWORD", ETC. + + "Like driftwood spars which meet and pass + Upon the boundless ocean-plain, + So on the sea of life, alas! + Man nears man, meets, and leaves again" + +--MATTHEW ARNOLD + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED WIFE + + + + +NOTE.--This book was written in the year 1912 + + + + +CONTENTS. + +I. THE MAN (Mainly concerning the early life of John, Robin +Ross-Ellison.) + +II. THE BOY (Mainly concerning the life of Moussa Isa Somali.) + +III. THE WOMAN (And Augustus Grabble; General Murger; Sergeant-Major +Lawrence-Smith; Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr. Horace Faggit; +as well as a reformed JOHN ROBIN ROSS-ELLISON.) + +IV. "MEET AND LEAVE AGAIN" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE MAN. + +(Mainly concerning the early life of John Robin Ross-Ellison.) + + +Truth is stranger than fiction, and many of the coincidences of real +life are truly stranger than the most daring imaginings of the +fictionist. + +Now, I, Major Michael Malet-Marsac, happened at the moment to be +thinking of my dear and deeply lamented friend John Ross-Ellison, and to +be pondering, for the thousandth time, his extraordinary life and more +extraordinary death. Nor had I the very faintest notion that the +Subedar-Major had ever heard of such a person, much less that he was +actually his own brother, or, to be exact, his half-brother. You see I +had known Ross-Ellison intimately as one only can know the man with whom +one has worked, soldiered, suffered, and faced death. Not only had I +known, admired and respected him--I had loved him. There is no other +word for it; I loved him as a brother loves a brother, as a son loves +his father, as the fighting-man loves the born leader of fighting-men: I +loved him as Jonathan loved David. Indeed it was actually a case of +"passing the love of women" for although he killed Cleopatra Dearman, +the only woman for whom I ever cared, I fear I have forgiven him and +almost forgotten her. + +But to return to the Subedar-Major. "Peace, fool! Art blind as Ibrahim +Mahmud the Weeper," growled that burly Native Officer as the zealous and +over-anxious young sentry cried out and pointed to where, in the +moonlight, the returning reconnoitring-patrol was to be seen as it +emerged from the lye-bushes of the dry river-bed. + +A recumbent comrade of the outpost sentry group sniggered. + +My own sympathies were decidedly with the sentry, for I had fever, and +"fever is another man". In any case, hours of peering, watching, +imagining and waiting, for the attack that will surely come--and never +comes--try even experienced nerves. + +"And who was Ibrahim the Weeper, Subedar-Major Saheb?" I inquired of the +redoubtable warrior as he joined me. + +"He was my brother's enemy, Sahib," replied Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan, principal Native Officer of the 99th Baluch Light Infantry +and member of the ruling family of Mekran Kot in far Kubristan. + +"And what made him so blind as to be for a proverb unto you?" + +"Just some little drops of water, Sahib, nothing more," replied the big +man with a smile that lifted the curling moustache and showed the +dazzling perfect teeth. + +It was bitter, bitter cold--cold as it only can be in hot countries (I +have never felt the cold in Russia as I have in India) and the khaki +flannel shirt, khaki tunic, shorts and putties that had seemed so hot +in the cruel heat of the day as we made our painful way across the +valley, seemed miserably inadequate at night, on the windy hill-top. +Moreover I was in the cold stage of a go of fever, and to have escaped +sunstroke in the natural oven of that awful valley at mid-day seemed but +the prelude to being frost-bitten on the mountain at midnight. +Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan appeared wholly +unaffected by the 100° variation in temperature, but then he had a few +odd stone of comfortable fat and was bred to such climatic trifles. He, +moreover, knew not fever, and, unlike me, had not experienced dysentery, +malaria, enteric and pneumonia fairly recently. + +"And had the hand of your brother anything to do with the little drops +of water that made Ibrahim the Weeper so blind?" I asked. + +"Something, Sahib," replied Mir Daoud Khan with a laugh, "but the hand +of Allah had more than that of my brother. It is a strange story. True +stories are sometimes far stranger than those of the bazaar tale-tellers +whose trade it is to invent or remember wondrous tales and stories, +myths, and legends." + +"We have a proverb to that effect, Mir Saheb. Let us sit in the shelter +of this rock and you shall tell me the story. Our eyes can work while +tongue and ear play--or would you sleep?" + +"_Nahin_, Sahib! Am I a Sahib that I should regard night as the time +wholly sacred to sleep and day as the time when to sleep is sin? I will +tell the Sahib the tale of the Blindness of Ibrahim Mahmud the Weeper, +well knowing that he, a truth-speaker, will believe the truth spoken by +his servant. To no liar would it seem possible. + +"Know then, Sahib, that this brother of mine was not my mother's son, +though the son of my father (Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan Mir Faquir Mahommed +Afzul Khan), who was the youngest son of His Highness the Jam Saheb of +Mekran Kot in Kubristan. And he, my father, was a great traveller, a +restless wanderer, and crossed the Black Water many times. To Englistan +he went, and without crossing water he also went to the capital of the +Amir of Russia to say certain things, quietly, from the King of Islam, +the Amir of Afghanistan. To where the big Waler horses come from he also +went, and to where they take the camels for use in the hot and sandy +northern parts." + +"Yes, Australia" I remarked. + +"Without doubt, if the Sahib be pleased to say it. And there, having +taken many camels in a ship that he might sell them at a profit, he +wedded a white woman--a woman of the race of the Highland soldiers of +Englistan, such as are in this very Brigade." + +"Married a Scotchwoman?" + +"Without doubt. Of a low caste--her father being a drunkard and landless +(though grandson of a Lord Sahib), living by horses and camels menially, +out-casted, a jail-bird. Formerly he had carried the mail through the +desert, a fine rider and brave man, but _sharab_[1] had loosened the +thigh in the saddle and palsied hand and eye. On hearing this news, the +Jam Saheb was exceeding wroth, for he had planned a good marriage for +his son, and he arranged that the woman should die if my father, on +whom be Peace, brought her to Mekran Kot. 'Tis but desert and mountain, +Sahib, with a few big _jagirs_[2] and some villages, a good fort, a +crumbling tower, and a town on the Caravan Road--but the Jam Saheb's +words are clearly heard and for many miles. + + [1] Wine. + [2] Estates. + +"Our father, however, was not so foolish as to bring the woman to his +home, for he knew that Pathan horse-dealers, camel-men, and traders +would have taken the truth, and more than the truth, concerning the +woman's social position to the gossips of Mekran Kot. And, apart from +the fact that her father was a drunkard, landless, a jail-bird, +out-casted by his caste-fellows, no father loves to see his son marry +with a woman of another community, nor with any woman but her with whose +father he has made his arrangements. + +"So my father, bringing the fair woman, his wife, by ship to Karachi, +travelled by the _rêlwêy terain_ to Kot Ghazi and left her there in +India, where she would be safe. There he left her with her _butcha_,[3] +my half-brother, and journeyed toward the setting sun to look upon the +face of his father the Jam Saheb. And the Jam Saheb long turned his face +from him and would not look upon him nor give him his blessing--and only +relented when my father took to himself another wife, my mother, the +lady of noble birth whom the Jam Saheb had desired for him--and +sojourned for a season at Mekran Kot. But after I was born of this union +(I am of pure and noble descent) his heart wearied, being with the fair +woman at Kot Ghazi, for whom he yearned, and with her son, his own son, +yet so white of skin, so blue of eye, the fairest child who ever had a +Pathan father. Yea, my brother was even fairer than I, who, as the +Huzoor knoweth, have grey eyes, and hair and beard that are not darkly +brown. + + [3] Baby. + +"So my father began to make journeys to Kot Ghazi to visit the woman his +first wife, and the boy his first-born. And she, who loved him much, and +whom he loved, prevailed upon him to name my brother after _her_ father +as well as after himself, the child's father (as is our custom) and so +my brother was rightly called Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan." + +"And what part of that is the name of his mother's father?" I asked, for +the Subedar-Major's rapid utterance of the name conveyed nothing of +familiar English or Scottish names to my mind. + +"Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan," replied Mir Daoud Khan; "that was her +father's name, Sahib." + +"Say it again, slowly." + +"Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan." + +"I have it! Yes, but _what_?--John Robin Ross-Ellison? Good God! But _I_ +knew a John Robin Ross-Ellison when _I_ was a Captain. He was Colonel of +the Corps of which I was Adjutant, in fact--the Gungapur Volunteer +Rifles.... By Jove! That explains a lot. _John Robin Ross-Ellison_!" + +I was too incredulous to be astounded. It _could_ not be. + +"_Han_[4] Sahib, _bé shak_![5] Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan was his name. And his mother called him +Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan and his father, Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, called +him Ilderim Dost Mahommed." + + [4] Yes. + [5] Without doubt. + +"H'm! A Scotch Pathan, brought up by an Australian girl in India, would +be a rare bird--and of rare possibilities naturally," I murmured, while +my mind worked quickly backward. + +"My brother was unlike us in some things, Sahib. He was fond of the +_sharab_ called '_Whisky_' and of dogs; he drank smoke from the cheroot +after the fashion of the Sahib-log and not from the hookah nor the +_bidi_;[6] he wore boots; he struck with the clenched fist when angered; +and never did he squat down upon his heels nor sit cross-legged upon the +ground. Yet he was true Pathan in many ways during his life, and he died +as a Pathan should, concerning his honour (and a woman). Yea--and in his +last fight, ere he was hanged, he killed more men with his long Khyber +knife, single-handed against a mob, than ever did lone man before with +cold steel in fair fight." + + [6] Native cigarette. + +Then it was so. And the Subedar-Major was John Robin Ross-Ellison's +brother! + +"He may have been foolishly kind to women, servants and dogs, and of a +foolish type of honour that taketh not every possible advantage of the +foe--but he was very brave, Huzoor, a strong enemy, and when he began he +made an end, and if that same honour were affronted he killed his man. +And yet he did not kill Ibrahim Mahmud the Weeper, who surely earned his +death twice, and who tried to kill him in a manner most terrible to +think of. No, he did not--but it shall be told.... And the white woman +prevailed upon our father to make her man-child a Sahib and to let him +go to the _maktab_[7] and _madressah-tul-Islam_[8] at Kot Ghazi, to +learn the clerkly lore that gives no grip to the hand on the sword-hilt +and lance-shaft nor to the thighs in the saddle, no skill to the fingers +on the reins, no length of sight to the eye, no steadiness to the rifle +and the lance, no understanding of the world and men and things. But our +father corrected all this, that the learning might do him no harm, for +oft-times he brought him to Mekran Kot (where my mother tried to poison +him), and he took him across the Black Water and to Kabul and Calcutta +and showed him the world. Also he taught him all he knew of the horse, +the rifle, the sword, and the lance--which was no small matter. Thus, +much of the time wasted at school was harmless, and what the boy lost +through the folly of his mother was redeemed by the wisdom of his +father. Truly are our mothers our best friends and worst enemies. Why, +when I was but a child my mother gave me money and bade me go prove--but +I digress. Well, thus my brother grew up not ignorant of the things a +man should know if he is to be a man and not a _babu_, but the woman, +his mother, wept sore whenever he was taken from her, and gave my father +trouble and annoyance as women ever do. And when, at last, she begged +that the boy might enter the service of the Sirkar as a wielder of the +pen in an office in Kot Ghazi, and strive to become a leading +_munshi_[9] and then a Deputy-Saheb, a _babu_ in very fact, my father +was wroth, and said the boy would be a warrior--yea, though he had to +die in his first skirmish and ere his beard were grown. Then the woman +wept and wearied my father until it seemed better to him that she should +die and, being at peace, bring peace. No quiet would he have at Mekran +Kot from my mother and his father, the Jam Saheb, while the woman lived, +nor would she herself allow him quiet at Kot Ghazi. And was she not +growing old and skinny moreover? And so he sent my brother to Mekran +Kot--and the woman died, without scandal. So my brother dwelt +thenceforward in Mekran Kot, knowing many things, for he had passed a +great _imtahan_[10] at Bombay and won a _sertifcut_[11] thereby, whereof +the Jam Saheb was very pleased, for the son of the Vizier had also gone +to a _madresseh_ and won a _sertifcut_, and it was time the pride of the +Vizier and his son were abated. + + [7] School. + [8] Mohammedan High School. + [9] Clerk. + [10] Examination. + [11] Certificate. + +"Now the son of the Vizier, Mahmud Shahbaz, was Ibrahim--and a mean +mangy pariah cur this Ibrahim Mahmud was, having been educated, and he +hated my brother bitterly by reason of the _sertifcut_ and on account of +a matter concerning a dancing-girl, one of those beautiful fat Mekranis, +and, by reason of his hatred and envy and jealousy, my mother made +common cause with him, she also desiring my brother's death, in that her +husband loved this child of another woman, an alien, his first love, +better than he loved hers. But _I_ bore him no ill-will, Huzoor. I loved +him and admired his deeds. + +"Many attempts they made, but though my mother was clever and Ibrahim +Mahmud and his father the Vizier were unscrupulous, my brother was in +the protection of the Prophet. Moreover he was much away from Mekran +Kot, being, like our father, a great traveller and soon irked by +whatever place he might be in. And, one time, he returned home, having +been to Germany on secret service (a thing he often did before he became +a Sahib) and to France and Africa on a little matter of rifles for +Afghanistan and the Border, and spoke to us of that very Somaliland to +which this very _pultan_, the 99th Baluch Light Infantry, went in 1908 +(was it?), and how the English were losing prestige there and would have +to send troops or receive _boondah_[12] and the blackened face from him +they called the Mad Mullah. And yet another time he returned from India +bringing a Somali boy, a black-faced youth, but a good Mussulman, whom, +some time before, he had known and saved from death in Africa, and now +had most strangely encountered again. And this Somali lad--who was not a +_hubshi_, a Woolly One, not a Sidi[13] slave--saved my brother's life in +his turn. I said he was not a slave--but in a sense he was, for he asked +nothing better than to sit in the shadow of my brother throughout his +life; for he loved my brother as the Huzoors' dogs love their masters, +yea--he would rather have had blows from my brother than gold from +another. He it was who saved Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan from the +terrible death prepared for him by Ibrahim Mahmud. It was during this +visit to Mekran Kot that Mahmud Shahbaz, the Vizier, announced +that he was about to send his learned son, the dog Ibrahim, to +Englistan to become English-made first-class Pleader--what they +called--'_Barishtar-at-Lar_' is it not, Sahib?" + + [12] An insulting and contemptuous gesture. + [13] A class of negroes, much employed as sailors and boatmen, and + called Seedeeboys. + +"That's it, Mir Saheb," replied I, sitting alert with chattering teeth +and shivering ague-stricken body. "Barrister-at Law.... Sit as close to +me as you can, for warmth.... Hark! Is that a signal?" as a long high +wavering note rose from the dry river-bed before us and wailed +lugubriously upon the night, rising and falling in mournful cadence. + +"'Twas a genuine jackal-cry, Huzoor. One can always tell the imitation +if jackals have sung one's lullaby from birth--though most Pathans can +deceive white ears in the matter.... Well, this made things no +pleasanter, for Ibrahim crowed like the dung-hill cock he was, and +boasted loudly. Also my mother urged him to do a deed ere he left Mekran +Kot for so long a sojourn in Belait.[14] And to her incitements and his +own inclination and desires was added that which made revenge and my +brother's death the chiefest things in all the world to Ibrahim Mahmud, +and it happened thus.... But do I weary the Sahib with my babble?" + + [14] Europe. + +"Nay--nay--far from it, Mir Saheb," replied I. "The sentry of talk +challenges the approaching skirmishers of sleep. The thong of narrative +drives off the dogs of tedium. Tell on." And in point of fact I was now +too credulous to be anything but astounded.... _John Robin +Ross-Ellison_! + +"Well, one day, my brother and I went forth to shoot sand-grouse, +tuloor,[15] chikor,[16] chinkara[17] and perchance ibex, leaving behind +this black body-servant Moussa Isa, the Somali boy, because he was +sick. And it was supposed that we should not return for a week at the +least. But on the third day we returned, my brother's eyes being +inflamed and sore and he fearing blindness if he remained out in the +desert glare. This is a common thing, as the Sahib knoweth, when dust +and sun combine against the eyes of those who have read over-many books +and written over-much with the steel pen upon white paper, and my +brother was somewhat prone to this trouble in the desert if he exhausted +himself with excessive _shikar_ and--other matters. And this angered him +greatly. Yet it was all ordained by Allah for the undoing of that +unclean dog Ibrahim Mahmud--for, returning and riding on his white camel +(a far-famed pacer of speed and endurance) under the great gateway of +the Jam's fort--high enough for a camel-rider to pass unstooping and +long enough for a _rêlwêy_-tunnel--he came upon Mahmud Ibrahim and his +friends and followers (for he had many such, who thought he might +succeed his father as Vizier) doing a thing that enraged my brother very +greatly. Swinging at the end of a cord tied to his hands, which were +bound behind his back, was the boy Moussa Isa the Somali, apparently +dead, for his eyes were closed and he gave no sign of pain as Ibrahim's +gang of pimps, panders, bullies and _budmashes_[18] kept him swinging to +and fro by blows of _lathis_[19] and by kicks, while Ibrahim and his +friends, at a short distance, strove to hit the moving body with stones. +I suppose the agony of hanging forward from the arms, and the blows of +staff and stone, had stunned the lad--who had offended Ibrahim, it +appeared, by preventing him from entering my brother's house--probably +to poison his water-_lotah_[20] and _gurrah_[21]--at the door of which +he, Moussa Isa, lay sick. My brother, Mir Jan, sprang from his camel +without waiting for the driver to make it kneel, and going up to +Ibrahim, he struck him with his closed, but empty, hand. Not with the +slap that stings and angers, he struck him, but with the thud that stuns +and injures, upon the mouth, removing certain of his teeth,--such being +his anger and his strength. Rising from the ground and plucking forth +his knife, Ibrahim sprang at my brother who, unarmed, straightway smote +him senseless, and that is talked of in Mekran Kot to this day. +Yea--senseless. Placing the thumb upon the knuckles of the clenched +fingers, he smote at the chin of Ibrahim, and laid him, as one dead, +upon the earth. Straight to the front from the shoulder and not +downwards nor swinging sideways he struck, and it was as though Ibrahim +had been shot. The Sahib being English will believe this, but many +Baluchis and Pathans do not. They cannot believe it, though to me +Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan of the 99th Baluch +Light Infantry of the Army of the King Emperor of India, they pretend +that they do, when I tell of that great deed.... Then my brother loosed +Moussa Isa with his own hand, saying that even as he had served Ibrahim +Mahmud so would he serve any man who injured a hair of the head of his +body-servant. And Moussa Isa clave to my brother yet the more, and when +a great Sidi slave entered the room of my brother by night, doubtless +hired by Ibrahim Mahmud to slay him, Moussa Isa, grappling with him, +tore out his throat with his teeth, though stabbed many times by the +Sidi, ere my brother could light torch or wick to tell friend from foe. +Whether he were thief or hired murderer, none could say--least of all +the Sidi when Moussa Isa, at my brother's bidding, loosed his teeth from +the man's throat. But all men held that it was the work of Ibrahim, for, +on recovering his senses that day of the blow, he had walked up to my +brother Mir Jan and said:-- + + [15] Bustard. + [16] A kind of partridge. + [17] Gazelle. + [18] Bad characters. + [19] Long staves. + [20] Brass cup or vase. + [21] Basin or pot. + +"'For that blow will I have a great revenge, O Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan +Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, descendant of Mirs and of +_mlecca_ dogs, this year or next year, or ten years hence, or when thou +art old, or upon thy first-born. By the sacred names of God, by the +Beard of the Prophet, by the hilt and blade of this my knife, and by the +life of my oldest son, I swear to have a vengeance on thee that shall +turn men pale as they whisper it. _And may Allah smite me blind_ if I do +not unto thee a thing of which children yet unborn shall speak with +awe.' + +"Thus spake Ibrahim, son of Mahmud, for though a dog, a mangy pariah +cur, he was still a Pathan. + +"But my brother laughed in his face and said but 'It would seem that I +too have tortured a slave' whereat Ibrahim repeated again 'Yea--_may +Allah smite me blind!_' + +"And something of this coming to the ears of our father, now heir to the +Jam of Mekran Kot, as his brothers were dead (in the big Border War they +died), he prayed the Jam Saheb to hasten the departure of the Vizier's +cub, and also told the Vizier that he would surely cut out his tongue +if aught befell Mir Jan. So the Vizier sent Ibrahim to Kot Ghazi on +business of investing moneys--wrung by knavery, doubtless, from litigant +suitors, candidates, criminals, and the poor of Mekran Kot. And shortly +after, the Jam Saheb heard of a new kind of gun that fires six of the +fat cartridges such as are used for the shooting of birds, without +reloading; and he bade Mir Jan who understood all things, and the ways +of the European gun-shop at Kot Ghazi, to hasten forthwith and procure +him a couple, and if none were in Kot Ghazi to send a _tar_[22] to +Bombay for them, or even, if necessary, to Englistan, though at a cost +of two rupees a word. With such a gun the Jam hoped to get better +_shikar_ when sitting on his camel and circling round the foolish +crouching grouse or _tuloor_, and firing at them as they sat. He thought +he might fire twice or thrice at them sitting, and again twice or thrice +at the remnant flying, and perchance hit some on the wing, after the +wonderful manner of the Sahibs. So he sent my brother, knowing him to be +both clever and honest and understanding the speech and ways of the +English most fully. + + [22] Telegram. + +"Now it is many days' journey, Sahib, across the desert and the +mountains, from Mekran Kot in Kubristan to Kot Ghazi in India, but at +Kot Ghazi is a fine bungalow, the property of the Jam Saheb, and there +all travellers from his house may sojourn and rest after their long and +perilous travel. + +"Taking me and Mir Abdul Haq and Mir Hussein Ali and many men and +servants, among whom was the body-servant, the boy Moussa Isa Somali, he +set forth, a little depressed that we heard not the cry of the +partridge in the fields of Mekran Kot as we started--not exactly a bad +omen, but lacking a good one. And sure enough, ere we won to Kot Ghazi, +his eyes became red and inflamed, very sore and painful to use. So, he +put the tail of his _puggri_[23] about his face and rode all day from +sun-rise to sun-set in darkness, his camel being driven by Abdulali +Gulamali Bokhari--the same who later rose to fame and honour as an +outlaw and was hanged at Peshawar after a brave and successful career. +And being arrived, in due course, at Kot Ghazi, before entering the +bungalow belonging to the Jam Saheb, he knelt his camel at the door of +the shop of a European _hakim_--in English a--er--" + + [23] Turban. + +"Chemist, Mir Saheb," I suggested. + +"Doubtless, since your honour says it--of a _kimmish_, and entering, to +the Eurasian dog therein said in English, of which he knew everything +(and taught me much, as your honour knows), 'Look you. I need lotion for +my eyes, eye medicine, and a bath for them' and the man mixed various +waters and poured them into a blue bottle with red labels, very +beautiful to see, and wrote upon it. Also he gave my brother a small cup +of glass, shaped like the mouth of the _pulla_ fish or the eye-socket of +a man. And my brother, knowing what to do, used the things then and +there, to the wonder of Abdul Haq and Hussein Ali, pouring the liquor +into the glass cup, and holding it to his eyes, and with back-thrown +head washing the eye and soothing it. + +"'Shahbas!'[24] quoth he. 'It is good,' and anon we proceeded to the +gun-shop and then to the bungalow belonging to the Jam Saheb. And lo +and behold, here we discovered the dog Ibrahim Mahmud, and my brother +twisted the knife of memory in the wound of insult by ordering him to +quit the room he occupied and seek another, since Mir Jan intended the +room for his body-servant, Moussa Isa Somali--the servant of a Mir being +more deserving of the room than the son of a Vizier! This was unwise, +but my brother's heart was too great to fear (or to fathom) the guile of +such a serpent as Ibrahim. + + [24] Bravo! Excellent! + +"And when he had bathed and prayed, eaten and drunk and rested, my +brother again anointed his eyes with the liquid--which though only like +water, was strong to soothe and heal. And our servants and people +watched him doing this with wonder and admiration, and the news of it +spread to the servants of Ibrahim Mahmud, who told their master of this +cleverness of Mir Jan,--and Ibrahim, after a while, sent a message and a +present to my brother, humbling himself, and asking that he too might +see this thing. + +"And Mir Jan, perhaps a little proud of his English ways, sat upon his +_charpai_,[25] and bathed his eyes in the little bath, until, wearying +of the trouble of pouring back the liquid into the bottle, he would +press the bottle itself to his eye and throw back his head. So his eyes +were quickly eased of pain, and in the evening we all went forth to +enjoy. + + [25] Native cot or bed. + +"On his return to the room, Mir Jan flung himself, weary, upon his +_charpai_ and Moussa Isa lay across the doorway. + +"In the morning my brother awoke and sitting on the _charpai_, took up +the blue bottle, drew the cork, and raised the bottle towards his eyes. +As he did this, Moussa Isa entered, and knowing not why he did so, +sprang at his master and dashed the bottle from his hand. It fell to the +ground but broke not, the floor being _dhurrie_[26]-covered. + + [26] Carpet. + +"In greatest amazement Mir Jan glanced from Moussa Isa to the bottle, +clenching his hand to strike the boy--when behold! the very floor +bubbled and smoked beneath the touch of the liquid as it ran from the +bottle. By the Beard of the Prophet, that stone floor bubbled and smoked +like water and the _dhurrie_ was burnt! Snatching up the bottle my +brother dropped drops from it upon the blade of his knife, upon the +leather of his boots, upon paint and brass and clothing--and behold it +was liquid fire, burning and corroding all that it touched! To me he +called, and, being shown these things, I could scarce believe--and then +I cried aloud 'Ibrahim Mahmud! Thine enemy!... Oh, my brother,--thine +eyes!' and I remembered the words of Ibrahim, '_a vengeance that shall +turn men pale as they whisper it--a thing of which children yet unborn +shall speak with awe_' and we rushed to his room,--to find it empty. He +and his best camel and its driver were gone, but all his people and +servants and _oont-wallahs_[27] were in the _serai_,[28] and said they +knew not where he was, but had received a _hookum_[29] over-night to set +out that day for Mekran Kot. And, catching up a pariah puppy, I +re-entered the house and dropped one drop from the blue bottle into its +eye. Sahib, even _I_ pitied the creature and slew it quickly with my +knife. And it was this that Ibrahim Mahmud had intended for the blue +eyes of my beautiful brother. This was the vengeance of which men should +speak in whispers. Those who saw and heard that puppy would speak of it +in whispers indeed--or not at all. I felt sick and my fingers itched to +madness for the throat of Ibrahim Mahmud. Had I seen him then, I would +have put out his eyes with my thumbs. Nay--I would have used the burning +liquid upon him as he had designed it should be used by my brother. + + [27] Camel-men. + [28] Halting-enclosure, rest-house. + [29] Order. + +"Hearing Mir Jan's voice, I hurried forth, and found that his white +pacing-camel was already saddled and that he sat in the front seat, +prepared to drive. 'Up, Daoud Khan' he cried to me 'we go +a-hunting'--and I sprang to the rear saddle even as the camel rose. +'Lead on, Moussa Isa, and track as thou hast never tracked before, if +thou wouldst live,' said he to the Somali, a noted _paggi_,[30] even +among the Baluch and Sindhi _paggis_ of the police at Peshawar and Kot +Ghazi. 'I can track the path of yesterday's bird through the air and of +yesterday's fish through the water,' answered the black boy; 'and I +would find this Ibrahim by smell though he had blinded _me_,' and he led +on. Down the Sudder Bazaar he went unfaltering, though hundreds of feet +of camels, horses, bullocks and of men were treading its dust. As we +passed the shop of the European _hakim_, yes, the _kimmish_, my brother +leapt down and entering the shop asked questions. Returning and mounting +he said to me: ''Tis as I thought. Hither he came last night, and, +saying he was science-knowing failed B.Sc., demanded certain acids, +that, being mixed, will eat up even gold--which no other acid can +digest, nor even assail....'" + + [30] Tracker. + +"_Aqua Regia_, or vitriol, I believe," I murmured, still marvelling ... +_Ross-Ellison!_ + +"Doubtless, if your honour is pleased to say so. 'He must have poured +these acids into the bottle while we were abroad last night,' continued +my brother. 'Oh, the dog! The treacherous dreadful dog!... 'Twas in a +good hour that I saved Moussa Isa,' and indeed I too blessed that +Somali, so mysteriously moved by Allah to dash the bottle from my +brother's hand. + +"'Think you that Ibrahim Mahmud bribed Moussa and that he repented as he +saw you about to anoint your eyes with the acid?' I asked of my brother. + +"'Nay--Moussa was with me until I returned,' replied he, 'and returning, +I put the bottle beneath my pillow. Besides, Ibrahim had fled ere we +returned to the bungalow. Moreover, Moussa would lose his tongue ere he +would tell me a lie, his eyes ere he would see me suffer, his hand ere +he would take a bribe against me. No--Allah moved his heart--rewarding +me for saving his life at the risk of mine own, when he lay beneath a +lion,--or else it is that the black dog hath the instincts of a dog and +knows when evil threatens what it loves.' And indeed it is a wonderful +thing and true; and Moussa Isa never knew how he knew, but said his arm +moved of itself and that he wondered at himself as he struck the bottle +from his master's hand. And, in time, we left the city and followed the +road and found that Ibrahim was fleeing to Mekran Kot, doubtless to be +far away when the thing happened, and also to get counsel and money from +his father and my mother, should suspicion fall on him and flight be +necessary. And anon even untrained eyes could see where he had left the +Caravan Road and taken the shorter route whereby camels bearing no heavy +load could come by steeper passes and dangerous tracks in shorter time +to Mekran Kot, provided the rider bore water sufficient--for there was +no oasis nor well. 'Enough, Moussa Isa, thou mayest return, I can track +the camel of Ibrahim now that he hath left the road,' quoth my brother, +breaking a long silence; but Moussa Isa, panting as he ran before, +replied: 'I come, Mir Saheb. I shall not fall until mine eyes have +beheld thy vengeance--in which perchance, _I_ may take a part. He called +me "_Hubshi_".' + +"'He hath many hours' start, Moussa,' said my brother, 'and his camel is +a good one. He will not halt and sleep for many hours even though he +suppose me dead!' + +"'I can run for a day; for a day and a night I can run,' replied the +Somali, 'and I can run until the hour of thy vengeance cometh. He called +_me_ "Hubshi"' ... and he ran on. + +"Sahib, for the whole of that day he ran beside the fast camel, my +brother drawing rein for no single minute, and when, at dawn, I awoke +from broken slumber in the saddle, Moussa Isa was running yet! And then +we heard the cry of the partridge and knew that our luck was good. + +"'He may have left the track,' quoth my brother soon after dawn, 'but I +think he is making for Mekran Kot, to get money and documents and to +escape again ere news of his deed--or the suspicion of him--reaches the +Jam Saheb. We may have missed him, but I could not halt and wait for +daylight. He cannot be far ahead of us now. This camel shall live on +milk and meal and wheaten bread, finest _bhoosa_[31] and chosen young +green shoots, and buds, and leaves--and he shall have a collar of gold +with golden bells, and reins of silk, and hanging silken tassels, and he +shall----" and then Moussa Isa gave a hoarse scream and pointed to the +sky-line above which rose a wisp of smoke. + + [31] Bran. + +"'It is he,' said my brother, and within the hour we beheld the little +bush-tent of Ibrahim Mahmud (made with cloths thrown over a bent bush) +and his camel, near to which, his _oont-wallah_ Suleiman Abdulla had +kindled a fire and prepared food. (Later this liar swore that he made +the fire smoke with green twigs to guide the pursuit,--a foolish lie, +for he knew not what Ibrahim had done, nor anything but that his master +hastened.) + +"Moussa Isa staggered to where Ibrahim Mahmud lay asleep, looked upon +his face, and fell, seeming to be about to die. + +"Making a little _chukker_[32] round, my brother drove the camel between +Suleiman and the tent and made it kneel. + + [32] Circuit, course. + +"'_Salaam aleikoum_,[33] Mir Saheb,' said Suleiman, and my brother +replied:-- + + [33] A Mussulman greeting. + +"'Salaam. Tend thou my camel and prepare food for me, and my brother, +and my servant. And if thou wouldst not hang in a pig's skin, be wise +and wary, and keep eyes, ears, and mouth closed.' And we drank water. + +"Then, treading softly, we went to the tent where Ibrahim Mahmud slept +and sat us down where we could look upon his face. There he slept, +Sahib, peacefully, like a little child!--having left Mir Jan to die the +death 'whereof men should speak with awe,' as he had threatened. + +"We sat beside him and watched. Saying nothing, we sat and watched. An +hour passed and an hour again. For another hour without moving or +speaking we sat and Moussa Isa joined us and watched. + +"'Twas sweet, and I licked my lips and hoped he might not wake for +hours, although I hungered. The actual revenge is very, very sweet, +Sahib, but does it exceed the joy of watching the enemy as he lies +wholly at your mercy, lies in the hollow of your hand and is your poor +foolish plaything,--knave made fool at last? Like statues we sat, moving +not our eyes from his face, and we were very happy. + +"Then, suddenly, he awoke and his eyes fell on my brother--and he +shrieked aloud, as the hare shrieks when hound or jackal seize her; as +the woman shrieks when the door goes down before the raiders and the +thatch goes up in flame. + +"Thus he shrieked. + +"We moved not. + +"'Why cryest thou, dear brother?' asked Mir Jan in a soft, sweet voice. + +"'I--I--thought thou wast a spirit, come to--' he faltered, and my +brother answered:-- + +"'And why should _I_ be a spirit, my brother? Am I not young and +strong?' + +"'I dreamed,' quavered Ibrahim. + +"'I too have had a dream,' said my brother. + +"''Twas but a dream, Mir Jan. I will arise and prepare some--' replied +Ibrahim, affecting ease of manner but poorly, for he had no real nerve. + +"'Thou wilt not arise yet, Ibrahim Mahmud,' murmured my brother gently. + +"'Why?' + +"'Because thine eyes are somewhat wearied and I purpose to wash them +with my magic water,' and as he held up the blue bottle with the red +label Ibrahim screamed like a girl and flung himself forward at my +brother's feet, shrieking and praying for mercy:-- + +"'_No, No!_' he howled; 'not _that!_ Mercy, O kingly son of Kings! I +will give thee--" + +"'Nay, my brother,--what is this?' asked Mir Jan softly, with kind +caressing voice. 'What is all this? I do but propose to bathe thine eyes +with this same magic water wherewith I bathed mine own, the day before +yesterday. Thou didst see me do it--thou didst watch me do it.' + +"'Mercy--most noble Mir! Have pity, 'twas not I. Mercy!' he screamed. + +"'But, Ibrahim, dear brother' expostulated Mir Jan, 'why this objection +to my magic water? It gave me great relief and my eyes were quickly +healed. Thine own need care--for see--water gushes from them even now.' + +"The dog howled--like a dog--and offered lakhs of rupees. + +"'But surely, my brother, what gave me relief will give thee relief? +Thou knowest how my eyes were soothed and healed, and that it is a +potent charm, and surely _it is not changed_?' Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras +el-Isan was all Pathan then, Sahib, whatever he may have been at other +times. I could not have played more skilfully with the dog myself. + +"At last, turning to Moussa Isa he said:-- + +"'Our brother seemeth distraught, and perchance will do himself some +injury if he be not tended with care and watched over. Bind him, to make +sure that he hurt not himself in this strange madness that hath +o'ertaken him, making him fancy harm even in this healing balm. Bind him +tightly.' And at that, the treacherous, murderous dog found his manhood +for a moment and made to spring to his feet and fight, but as he tried +to rise, Moussa Isa kicked him in the face and fell upon him. + +"'Shall I serve thee as I served thy _Hubshi_ hireling, thy Sidi slave?' +he grunted and showed his sharp strong teeth. + +"'Perchance 'twould cure him of his madness if we bled the poor soul a +little,' cooed my brother, putting his hand to his cummerbund where was +his long Afghan knife, and Ibrahim Mahmud lay still. Picking up his big, +green turban from beside his rug, I bound his arms to his sides and +then, going forth, got baggage-cords from the _oont-wallah_ and likewise +his _puggri_, and Moussa Isa bound his feet and hands and knees. + +"Then my brother called Suleiman Abdulla the _oont-wallah_, and bade +Moussa Isa sleep--which he did with his knife in his hand, having bound +his foot to that of Ibrahim. + +"'Look, thou dog,' said Mir Jan to Suleiman, 'should this rat-flea +escape, thy soul and thy body shall pay, for I will put out thine eyes +with glowing charcoal and hang thee in the skin of a pig, if I have to +follow thee to Cabul to do it--yea, to Balkh or Bokhara. See to it.' And +Suleiman put his head upon my brother's feet, poured dust upon it and +said 'So be it, Mir Saheb. Do this and more if he escape,' and we slept +awhile. + +"Anon we awoke, ate, drank and smoked, my brother smoking the cheroots +of the Sahib-log and I having to be content with the _bidis_ of Suleiman +as there was no hookah. + +"And when we had rested we went and sat before the face of Ibrahim and +gazed upon him long, without words. + +"And he wept. Like a woman he wept, and said 'Slay me, Mir Saheb, and +have done. Slay me with thy knife.' + +"But my brother replied softly and sweetly:-- + +"'What wild words are these, Ibrahim? Why should I slay thee? Some +matter of a quarrel there was concerning thy torturing of my +servant--but I am not of them that bear grudges and nurse hatred. In no +anger slay thee with my knife? Why should I injure thee? I do most +solemnly swear, Ibrahim, that I will do thee no wilful hurt. I will but +anoint thine eyes with the contents of this bottle just as I did anoint +my own. Why should I slay thee or do thee hurt?' + +"And I chuckled aloud. He was all Pathan then, Sahib, and handling his +enemy right subtly. + +"And Ibrahim wept yet more loudly and said again:-- + +"'Slay me and have done.' Then my brother gave him the name by which he +was known ever after, saying:-- + +"'Why should I slay thee, _Ibrahim, the Weeper_?' and he produced the +bottle and held it above that villain's face. + +"His screams were music to me, and in the joy of his black heart Moussa +Isa burst into some strange chant in his own Somali tongue. + +"'Nay, our friends must hear thy eloquence and songs, Ibrahim,' said my +brother, after he had held the bottle tilted above the face of the +Weeper for some minutes. ''Twere greedy to keep this to ourselves.' + +"Again and again that day my brother would say: 'Nay--I cannot wait +longer. Poor Ibrahim's weeping eyes must be relieved at once,' and he +would produce the bottle, uncork it, and hold it over Ibrahim's face as +he writhed and screamed and twisted in his bonds. + +"'What ails thee, Ibrahim the Weeper?' he would coo. 'Thou knowest it is +a soothing lotion. Didst thou not see me use it on mine own eyes?' Yea, +he was true Pathan then, and I loved him the more. + +"A hundred times that day he did thus and enjoyed the music of Ibrahim's +screams, and by night the dog was a little mad. So, lest we defeat +ourselves and lose something of the sport our souls loved, we left him +in peace that night, if 'peace' it is to know that the dreadful death +you have prepared for another now overhangs you. Moussa Isa kept watch +through the night. And in the morning came Abdul Haq and Hussein Ali +and the servants and _oont-wallahs_, save a few who had been sent with +laden camels by the Caravan Road. And, when all had eaten and rested, my +brother held _durbar_,[34] having placed Ibrahim Mahmud in the midst, +bound, and looking like one who has long lain upon a bed of sickness. + + [34] Meeting. + +"This _durbar_ proceeded with the greatest solemnity and no man smiled +when my brother said: 'And now, touching the matter of my beloved and +respected Ibrahim Mahmud, son of our grandfather's Vizier,--the learned +Ibrahim, who shortly goeth (perhaps) across the black water to Englistan +to become a great and famous pleader,--can any suggest the cause of the +strange and distressing madness that hath come upon him so suddenly? +For, behold, I have to keep him bound lest he do himself an injury, and +constantly he crieth, "Kill me, Mir Saheb, kill me with thy knife and +make an end." And when I go to bathe his poor eyes, so sore and red with +weeping, behold he shrieketh like the _rêlwêy terain_ at Peshawar and +weepeth like a woman.' + +"And Abdul Haq spoke and said: 'Is it so indeed, Mir Saheb?' And my +brother said: 'It is so;' and Hussein Ali said: 'Is it so indeed, Mir +Saheb?' And my brother said 'It is so;' and all men said the same thing +gravely and my brother made the same answer. + +"Sahib, I shall never forget the joy of that _durbar_ with Ibrahim the +Weeper there, like a trapped rat, in the midst, looking from face to +face for mercy. + +"'Yea--it is so. It is indeed so,' again said my brother when all had +asked. 'You shall see--and hear. Behold I will drop but one drop of my +soothing lotion into each of his eyes!' ... and he turned to Ibrahim the +Weeper, with the uncorked bottle in his hand--the bottle from which came +forth smoke, though it was cold. But Ibrahim rolled screaming, and +strove to thrust his face into the ground. 'It is strange indeed,' mused +Abdul Haq, stroking his beard, while none smiled. 'Strange, in every +truth. But thou hast not dropped the drops, Mir Saheb. Perchance he will +arise and thank thee and be cured of this madness when he feels the +healing anointment that so benefited thine own eyes. Oh, the cleverness +of these European _hakims_,' and he raised hands and eyes in wonder as +he sighed piously. + +"'Yea--perchance he will,' agreed my brother and bade Moussa Isa hold +him by the ears with his face to the sky while the _oont-wallahs_ kept +him on his back. And Ibrahim's body heaved up those four strong men as +it bent like a bow and bucked like a horse, while my brother removed the +cork once again. + +"His shrieks delighted my soul. + +"''Tis a marvellous mystery to me,' sighed my brother. 'He knows how +innocent and healing are these waters and yet he refuses them. He saw me +use them on my own eyes--and surely the medicine is unchanged?' And he +balanced the bottle sideways above the face of his enemy and allowed the +devilish acid to well up and impend upon the very edge of the neck of +the bottle, as he murmured: 'But a single drop for each eye! More I +cannot spare--to-day. Perchance a drop for each ear to-morrow, and one +for his tongue on the next day--if his madness spare him to us for so +long.' + +"Then, as Ibrahim, foaming, shrieked curses and cried aloud to Allah +and Mohammed his Prophet, he said: 'Nay, this is ingratitude. He shall +not have them to-day at all, but shall endure without them till sunrise +to-morrow. Take him yonder, and lay him on that flat rock, bareheaded in +the sun, that his tears may be dried for him.' ... + +"Yea! I found no fault with my brother then, Sahib. + +"He was a master in his revenge. And the _durbar_ murmured its applause, +and praised and thanked my brother. Not one of them but had suffered at +the hands of Mahmud Shahbaz, his father, the Vizier, or at the insolent +hands of this his own son.... Then Mir Jan called to Moussa Isa, his +body-servant, and said unto him:-- + +"'Hear, Moussa Isa, and make no tiny error if thou wouldst see +to-morrow's sun and go to Paradise anon. Feed that carrion well and +pretend to be filled with the pity that is the child of avarice. Ask +what he will give thee to help him to escape. Affect to haggle long, and +speak much of the difficulties and dangers of the deed. At length agree +to put him on my fast camel this night at moon-rise, if thou art left as +his guard and we are wrapt in slumber. Play thy part well, and show thy +remorse at cheating thy master--even for a lakh[35] of rupees--yea, and +show fear of what will happen to thee, and pretend distrust of him. At +length succumb again, and as the moon just shows above the mountains +untie his bonds and do thus and thus--' and he whispered instructions +while a light shone in the eyes of Moussa Isa, the Somali, and a smile +played about his mouth. + + [35] One hundred thousand. + +"And Mir Jan told the matter that night to all and gave instructions. + +"Moussa Isa meanwhile did everything as he was bid and, while we ate, he +carried his own food to the Weeper, as though secretly. + +"Long and merrily we feasted, pretending to drink to excess of the +forbidden _sharab_, singing and behaving like toddy-laden coolies, and +in time we staggered to our carpets, put on our _poshteens_,[36] pulled +rugs over our heads and slept--not. + + [36] Warm sheep-skin coats. + +"From under his rug my brother kept watch. Shortly after, Moussa Isa +arose from beside Ibrahim the Weeper and crawled like a snake to where +the camels knelt in a ring, and there he saddled the swift white camel +of Mir Jan, and I heard its bubbling snarl as he made it rise, and led +it over near to where Ibrahim lay. There he made it kneel again, and, +throwing the nose-rope over its head, he laid the loop thereof, with his +stick, on the front seat of the saddle. This done, he crept back to +Ibrahim Mahmud and feigned sleep awhile. Anon, none stirring, he began +to untie with his teeth and knife-point the cords that bound the +captive, and when, at length, the man was free, Moussa chafed his +stiffened arms and legs, his hands and feet. + +"When, after a time, Ibrahim tried to rise, he fell again and +again, and the moon not yet having risen above the mountains, the +avaricious-seeming Moussa again massaged and chafed the limbs of the +villain Ibrahim, who earnestly prayed Moussa Isa to lay him on the +saddle as he was--and depart ere some sleeper awoke. But Moussa said +'twould be vain to start until Ibrahim could sit in the saddle and hold +on, and he continued to rub his arms and legs. + +"But when the edge of the moon shone above the mountain, Moussa placed +the arm of Ibrahim around his neck, put his arm round Ibrahim's body, +and staggered with him to where the racing-camel knelt. After a few +steps the strength of Ibrahim seemed to return, and, by the time they +reached the camel, he could totter on his feet and stand without help. +With some difficulty Moussa hoisted him into the rear saddle. Having +done so, he thrust the stirrups upon his feet and commenced to unwind +his puggri. + +"'Mount, mount!' whispered Ibrahim. + +"'Nay, I must tie thee on,' replied Moussa Isa and, knotting one end of +the _puggri_ to the back of the saddle, he passed it twice round Ibrahim +and tied the other end near the first. This done, and Ibrahim being in a +frantic fever of haste and fear and hope, Moussa Isa commenced to +bargain, Ibrahim agreeing to every demand and promising even more. + +"'Anything! anything!' he shrieked beneath his breath. 'Bargain as we +go. You cannot ask too much. I and my father will strip ourselves for +thee.' ... And having tortured him awhile, Moussa sprang into the saddle +and brought the camel to its feet--as my brother's voice said, softly +and sweetly:-- + +"'Wouldst thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my friend?' and my own chimed in:-- + +"'Could'st thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my brother's friend?' and the voice +of Abdul Haq followed with:-- + +"'Shouldst thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my cousin's friend?' and Hussein +Ali's voice added:-- + +"'Do not leave us, O Ibrahim, my friend's friend.' Like the wolf-pack, +every other voice in the camp in turn implored:-- + +"'Never leave us, O Ibrahim, our master's friend.' + +"'Go! go!' shrieked Ibrahim, kicking with his heels at the camel's sides +and striking at Moussa Isa, as that obedient youth, raising his stick, +caused the camel to bound forward, and drove it, swiftly trotting--to +where my brother lay, and there made it kneel again.... + +"Dost thou sleep, Huzoor?" + +"Nay, Mir Saheb," I replied, "nor would I till your tale be done and I +have seen the return of another reconnoitring-patrol. We might then take +turns.... Nay, I will not sleep at all. 'Tis too near dawn--when things +are wont to happen in time of war." + +Little did the worthy Subedar-Major guess how, or why, his tale +enthralled me. + +"I have nearly done, Sahib.... On the morrow my brother said: 'To-day I +will make an end. After the evening prayer let all assemble and behold +the anointing of the eyes of Ibrahim the Weeper with the same balm that +he intended to be applied to mine.' And during the day men drove strong +stakes deep into the ground, the distance between them being equal to +the width of Ibrahim's head, which they measured--telling him why. Also +pegs were driven into the ground convenient for the fastening of his +hands and feet, and stones were collected as large as men could carry. + +"And, after evening prayer and prostration we took Ibrahim, and forcing +his head between the stakes so that he could not turn it, we tied his +hands and feet to the pegs and weighted his body with the stones, being +careful to do him no injury and to cause no such pain as might detract +from the real torture, and lessen his punishment. + +"And then Mir Jan stood over him with the bottle and said, softly and +sweetly:-- + +"'Ibrahim, my friend, thou didst vow upon me a vengeance, the telling of +which should turn men pale, because I struck thee for torturing my +servant. And now I return good for thine evil, for I take pity on thy +weeping eyes and heal them. These several days thou hast refused this +benefaction with floods of tears, and sobs and screams. Now, behold, and +see how foolish thou hast been,' and he spilt a drop from the bottle, so +that it fell near the face of Ibrahim, but not on it. + +"And I was amazed to see that the stone upon which the drop fell did not +bubble and boil. This prolongation and refinement of the torture I could +appreciate and enjoy--but why did not the acid affect the stone? 'Twas +as though mere cold water had fallen upon it. Nor was the bottle smoking +as always hitherto. + +"And even as I wondered, my brother quickly stooped and dashed some of +the contents of the bottle in the eyes of Ibrahim the Weeper. + +"With a shriek that pierced our ear-drums and must have been heard for +many kos,[37] Ibrahim writhed and jerked so that the stones were thrown +from his body and the pegs that held his feet and hands were torn from +the ground. The stakes holding his head firmly, he flung his body over +until his head was beneath it and then back again, and screamed like a +wounded horse. At last he wrenched his head free, and, holding his hands +to his face--which appeared to be in no way injured--leapt up and ran +round and round in circles, until he was seized, and, by my brother's +orders, his hands were torn from his face. + + [37] Kos = two miles. + +"And behold, his eyes and face were unmarked and uninjured, and the +liquid that dripped upon his clothing made no mark and did no hurt. + +"'_Blind_,' he shrieked,' I am _blind!_ O Merciful Allah, my eyes!' and +he fell, howling. + +"'Now that is very strange,' said my brother, 'for I threw pure, plain, +cold water in his face. See me drink of the remainder!' and he drank +from the bottle, and so did I, in fear and wonder. Cold, pure, fair +water it was, and nothing else! + +"But Ibrahim the Weeper was blind. Stone blind to his dying day and +never looked upon the sun again. Little drops of water had struck him +blind. Nay, the Hand of Allah had struck him blind--him who had cried: +'_May Allah strike me blind_ if I do not unto thee a thing of which +children yet unborn shall speak with awe". He had tried to do such a +thing and God had struck him blind--though my brother, who was very +learned, spoke of self-suggestion, and of imagination being sometimes +strong enough to make the imagined come to pass. (He told of a man who +died for no reason, on a certain day at a certain hour, because his +father had done so and he believed that _he_ would also. But more likely +it was witchcraft and he was under a curse.) + +"Howbeit, little drops of pure water blinded Ibrahim the Weeper. And +there the foreign blood of my poor brother showed forth. He could not +escape the taint and was weak. At the last moment he had wavered and, +like a fool, had forgiven his enemy." + +"Was he a Christian?" I asked (and had often wondered in the past). + +"_Nahin_, Sahib! He was a Mussulman, my father having had him taught +with special care by a holy _moulvie_,[38] by reason of the fact that +his mother had had him sprinkled with holy water by her priests and had +taught him the tenets of the Christian faith--doubtless a high and noble +one since your honour is of it." + + [38] Priest. + +"He had been taught the Christian doctrines, then?" + +"Without doubt, Sahib. Throughout his childhood; in the absence of his +father. And doubtless this aided his foreign blood in making him act +thus foolishly." + +"Doubtless," I agreed, with a smile. + +"Yea, at the last moment he had put his vengeance from him and behaved +like a weak fool, throwing away the acid, cleaning the bottle and +filling it with pure water. He had intended to give Ibrahim a fright +(and also the opprobrious title of _the Weeper_), to teach him a lesson +and to let him go--provided he swore on the Q'ran never to return to +Mekran Kot when he left for England.... Such a man was my poor brother. +But the hand of Allah intervened and Ibrahim the Weeper lived and died +stone blind.... A strange man that poor brother of mine, strong save +when his foreign blood and foreign religion arose like poison within him +and made him weak.... There was the case of the English Sergeant +Larnce-Ishmeet whom he spared and sent into the English lines in the +little Border War." + +"Lance-Sergeant Smith? What regiment?" I asked. + +"I know not, Sahib, save that it was a British Infantry Regiment. (He +was not Lance-Sergeant Ishmeet but Sergeant Larnce-Ishmeet.) We ... I +mean ... they ... slew many of a Company that was doing rear-guard and +their officers being slain and many men also, a Sergeant took them off +with great skill. Section by section, from point to point he retired +them, and our ... their ... triumphant joy at the capture and slaughter +of the Company was changed to gnashing of teeth--for we lost many and +the Company retired safely on the main body. But we got the Sergeant, +badly wounded, and my brother would not have him slain. Rather he showed +him much honour and had him borne to Mekran Kot, and when he was healed +he took him to within sight of the outermost Khyber fort and set him +free.... Yet was he not an enemy, Sahib, taken in war? Strange +weaknesses had my poor brother...." + +"I knew a Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith," I remarked, as light dawned on +me after pondering "Larnce-Ishmeet." "He shot himself at Duri some time +ago." + +"He was a brave man," said Mir Daoud Khan. "Peace be upon him." + +"And what became of your brother?" I asked, although I knew only too +well--alas! + +"He left Mekran Kot when I did, Sahib, for our father died, the old Jam +Saheb was poisoned, and we had to flee or die. I never saw him again for +he made much money (out of rifles), travelled widely, and became a +Sahib (and I followed the _pultan_[39]). But he died as a Pathan +should--for his honour. In Gungapur jail they hanged him (after the +failure of the foolish attempt by some seditious Sikhs and Punjabis and +Bengalis at a second Great Killing) and I do not care to speak of that +thing even to--" + + [39] Infantry Regiment. + +A sputter of musketry broke out in the thick vegetation of the +river-bed, crackled and spread, as Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan (once +against the civilized, brave and distinguished officer) and I sprang to +our feet and hurried to our posts--I, even at that moment, thinking how +small a World is this, and how long is the long arm of Coincidence. Here +was I, while waiting for what then seemed almost certain death, hearing +from the lips of his own brother, the early history of the remarkable, +secretive and mysterious man whom I had loved above all men, and whose +death had been the tragedy of my life. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BOY. + +(Mainly concerning the early life of Moussa Isa Somali.) + + +Moussa Isa Somali never stole, lied, seduced, cheated, drank, swore, +gambled, betrayed, slandered, blasphemed, nor behaved meanly nor +cowardly--but, alas! he had personal and racial Pride. + +It is written that Pride is the sin of Devils and that by it, Lucifer, +Son of the Morning, fell. + +If it be remembered that he fell for nine days, be realized that he must +have fallen with an acceleration of velocity of thirty-two feet per +second, each second, and be conceded that he weighed a good average +number of pounds, some idea will be formed of the violence of the +concussion with which he came to earth. + +In spite of the terrible warning provided by so great a smash there yet +remain people who will argue that it is better to fall through Pride +than to remain unfallen through lack of it. By Pride, _Pride_ is meant +of course--not Conceit, Snobbishness and Bumptiousness, which are all +very damnable, and signs of a weak, base mind. One gathers that Lucifer, +Son of the Morning, was not conceited, snobbish, nor bumptious. Nor was +Moussa, son of Isa, Somali--but, like Lucifer, Son of the Morning, +Devil, he fell, through Pride, and came to a Bad End. + +One has known people who have owned to a sneaking liking and unwilling +admiration for Lucifer, Son of the Morning--people of the same sort as +those who find it difficult wholly to revere the prideless Erect when +comparing them with the prideful Fallen--and, for the life of me, I +cannot help a sneaking liking and unwilling admiration for Moussa Isa +Somali, who fell through Pride. + +There was something fine about him, even as there was about Lucifer, Son +of the Morning, and one cannot avoid feeling that if both did not get +more of hard luck and less of justice than some virtuous people one +knows, they certainly cut a better figure. Of course it is a mistake to +adopt any line of action that leads definitely to the position of +Under-Dog, and to fight when you cannot win. It is not Prudent, and +Prudence leads to Favour, Success, Decorations, and the Respect of +Others if not of yourself. It is also to be remembered that whether you +are a Wicked Rebel or a Noble True-Hearted Patriot depends very largely +on whether you succeed or fail. + +All of which is mere specious and idle special pleading on behalf of +Moussa Isa, a sinful murderous Somali.... + +Most of the memories of Moussa Isa centred round scars. When I say +"memories of Moussa Isa" I mean Moussa Isa's own memories, for there are +no memories concerning him. The might, majesty, dominion and power of +the British Empire were arrayed against him, and the Empire's duly +appointed agents hanged him by the neck until he was dead--at an age +when some people are yet at school, albeit he had gathered in his few +years of life a quantity and quality of experience quite remarkable. + +'Twas a sordid business, and yet Moussa Isa died, like many very +respectable and highly belauded folk, from the early Christians in Italy +to the late Christians in Armenia, for a principle and an idea. + +He was black, he was filthy, he was savage, ignorant and ugly--but he +had his Pride, both personal and racial, for he was a Somali. A Somali, +mark you, not a mere _Hubshi_ or Woolly One, not a common Nigger, not a +low and despicable person--worshipping idols, eating human flesh, grubs, +roots and bark--the "black ivory" of Arabs. + +If you called Moussa Isa a Hubshi, he either killed you or marked you +down for death, according to circumstances. + +Had Moussa Isa lived a few centuries earlier, been of another colour, +and swanked around in painful iron garments and assorted cutlery, he +would have been highly praised for his fine and proper spirit. Poet, +bard, and troubadour would have noted and published his quickness on the +point of honour. Moussa would have been set to music and have become a +source of income to the gifted. He would have become a Pillar of the +Order of Knighthood and an Ornament of the Age of Chivalry. A wreath of +laurels would have encircled his brow--instead of a rope of hemp +encircling his neck. + +For such fine, quick, self-respecting Pride, such resentment of insult, +men have become Splendid Figures of the Glorious Past. + +_Autres jours autres moeurs_. + +How many people called him _Hubshi_, we know not; but we know, from his +own lips, of the killing of some few. Of the killing of others he had +forgotten, for his memory was poor, save for insult and kindness. And, +having caught and convicted him in one or two cases the appointed +servants of the British Empire first "reformed" and then slew him in +their turn--thus descending to his level without his excuse of private +personal insult and injury.... + +The scars on Moussa Isa's face with the hole in his ear were connected +with one of his very earliest memories--or one of his very earliest +memories was connected with the scars on his face and the hole in his +ear--a memory of jolting along on a camel, swinging upside-down, while a +strong hand grasped his foot; of seeing his father rush at his captor +with a long, broad-bladed spear, of being whirled and flung at his +father's head; and of seeing his father's intimate internal economy +seriously and permanently disarranged by the two-handed sword of one of +the camel rider's colleagues (who flung aside a heavy gun which he had +just emptied into Moussa's mamma) as his father fell to the ground under +the impact and weight of the novel missile. Though Moussa was unaware, +in his abysmal ignorance, of the interesting fact, the great two-handed +sword so effectually wielded by the supporter of his captor, was exactly +like that of a Crusader of old. It was like that of a Crusader of old, +because it was a direct lineal descendant of the swords of the Crusaders +who had brought the first specimens to the country, quite a good many +years previously. Indeed some people said that a few of the swords +owned by these Dervishes were real, original, Crusaders' swords, the +very weapons whose hilts were once grasped by Norman hands, and whose +blades had cloven Paynim heads in the name of Christianity and the +interests of the Sepulchre. I do not know--but it is a wonderfully dry +climate, and swords are there kept, cherished, and bequeathed, even more +religiously than were the Stately Homes of England in that once +prosperous land, in the days before park, covert, pleasaunce, forest, +glade, dell, and garden became allotments, and the spoil of the +"Working"-man. + +Picked up after the raid and pursuit with a faceful of gravel, sand, +dirt, and tetanus-germs, Moussa Isa, orphan, was flung on a pile of dead +Somali spearmen and swordsmen, of horses, asses, camels, negroes, (old) +women and other cattle--and, crawling off again, received kicks and +orders to clean and polish certain much ensanguined weapons sullied with +the blood of his near and distant relatives. Thereafter he was +recognized by the above-mentioned swordsman, and accorded the privilege +of removing his own father's blood from the great two-handed sword +before alluded to--a task of a kind that does not fall to many little +boys. So willingly and cheerfully did Moussa perform his arduous duty +(arduous because the blood had had time to dry, and dried blood takes a +lot of removing from steel by one unprovided with hot water) that the +Arab swordsman instead of blowing off the child's head with his long and +beautiful gun, damascened of barrel, gold-mounted of lock, and +pearl-inlaid of stock, allowed him to rim for his life that he might die +a sporting death in hot blood, doing his devilmost. (These were not +slavers but avengers of enmity to the Mad Mullah and punishers of +friendship to the English.) + +"How much law will you give me, O Emir?" asked the child. + +"Perhaps ten yards, dog, perhaps a hundred, perhaps more.... Run!" + +"_You_ could hit me at a thousand yards, O Emir," was the reply. "Let me +die by a shot that men will talk about...." + +"Run, yelping dog," growled the Arab with a sardonic smile. + +And Moussa ran. He also bounded, shied, dodged, ducked, swerved, +dropped, crawled, zig-zagged and generally gave his best attention to +evading the shot of the common fighting-man whom he had propitiatorily +addressed as "_Emir_," though a mere wearer of a single fillet of +camel-hair cord around his _haik_. Like a naval gunner--the Arab laid +his gun and waited till the sights "came on," fired, and had the +satisfaction of seeing the child fling up his arms, leap into the air +and fall twitching to the ground. Good shot! The twitches and the last +convulsive spasm were highly artistic and creditable to the histrionic +powers of Moussa Isa, shot through the ear, and inwardly congratulating +himself that he had yet a chance. But then he had had wide opportunity +for observation, and plenty of good models, in the matter of +sudden-death spasms and twitches, so the credit is the less. Anyhow, it +deceived experienced Arab eyes at a hundred yards, and the performance +may therefore be classed as good. To the reflective person it will be +manifest that Moussa's reverence for the sanctity of human life +received but little encouragement or development from the very +beginning.... + +Returning refugees, a few days later, found Moussa very pleased-with +himself and very displeased with uncooked putrid flesh. Being +exceedingly poor and depressed as a result of the Mad Mullah's vengeful +_razzia_, they sold Moussa Isa, friendless, kinless orphan, and once +again cursed the false English who made them great promises in the +Mahdi's troublous day, and abandoned them to the Mad Mullah and his +Dervishes as soon as the Mahdi was happily dead. + +The Mad Mullah they could understand; the English they could not. For +the Mad Mullah they had no blame whatsoever; for the English they had +the bitterest blame, the deepest hatred and the uttermost contempt. Who +blames the lion for seeking and slaying his prey? Who defends the +unspeakable creature that throws its friends and children to the +lion--in payment of its debts and in cancellation of its obligations to +those friends and children? In discussing the raid on their way to +market with Moussa Isa, they mentioned the name of the Mad Mullah with +respect and fear. When they mentioned the English they expectorated and +made a gesture too significant to be particularized. And the tom-toms +once again throbbed through the long nights, sending (by a code that was +before Morse) from village to village, from the sea to the Nile, from +the Nile to the Niger and the Zambesi, from the Mediterranean to the +Cape, the news that once more the Mad Mullah had flouted that failing +and treacherous race, the English, and slaughtered those who lived +within their gates, under the shadow of their flag and the promise of +their protection. + +Ere Moussa Isa got his next prominent scar, the signal-drums throbbed +out the news that the gates were thrown open, the flag hauled down, and +the promises shamefully broken. That the representatives of the failing +treacherous race now stood huddled along the sea-shore in fear and +trembling, while those who had helped them in their trouble and had +believed their word were slaughtered by the thousand; that the country +was the home of fire and sword, the oasis-fields yielding nothing but +corpses, the wells choked with dead ... red slaughter, black pestilence, +starvation, misery and death, where had been green cultivation, fenced +villages, the sound of the quern and the well-wheel, the song of women +and the cry of the ploughman to his oxen. News and comments which did +nothing to lessen the pride and insolence of the Jubaland tribesmen, of +the Wak tribesmen, of the bold Zubhier sons of the desert, nor to strike +terror to the hearts of the murderers of Captain Aylmer and Mr. Jenner, +of slave-traders, game-poachers, raiders, wallowers in slaughter.... + +Another very noticeable and remarkable scar broke the fine lines and +smooth contours of Moussa's throat and another memory was as indelibly +established in his mind as was the said scar on his flesh. + +At any time that he fingered the horrible ridged cicatrice, he could see +the boundless ocean and the boundless blue sky from a wretched cranky +canoe-shaped boat, in which certain Arab, Somali, Negro, and other +gentlemen were proceeding all the way from near Berbera to near Aden +with large trustfulness in Allah and with certain less creditable goods. +It was a long, unwieldy vessel which ten men could row, one could steer +with a broad oar, and a small three-cornered sail could keep before the +wind. + +But the various-clad crew of this cranky craft were gentlemen all, who, +beyond running up the string-tied sail to the clothes-prop mast, or +taking a trick at the wheel--another clothes-prop with a large disc of +wood at the water-end, were far above work. + +Trusting in Allah and Mohammed his Prophet is a lot easier than rowing a +lineless, blunt-nosed, unseaworthy boat beneath a tropical sun. So they +trusted in God, and permitted Moussa Isa, slave-boy, to do all that it +was humanly possible for him to do. + +Moussa did all that was expected of him, but not so Allah and Mohammed +his Prophet. + +The gentle breeze that (sometimes) carries you steadily over a glassy +sea straight up the forty-fifth meridian of east longitude from Berbera +to Aden in the month of October, failed these worthy trustful Argonauts, +and they were becalmed. + +But Time is made for slaves, and the only slave upon the Argosy was +Moussa Isa, and so the becalming was neither here nor there. The cargo +would keep (if kept dry) for many a long day--and the greater the delay +in delivery, the greater the impatience of the consignees and their +willingness to pay even more than the stipulated price--its weight in +silver _per_ rifle. But food is made for men as well as slaves, and if +you, in your noble trustfulness, resolutely decline to reduce your daily +rations, there must, with mathematical certitude of date, arrive the +final period to any given and limited supply. Though banking wholly with +Heaven in the matter of their own salvation from hunger, the Argonauts +displayed mere worldly wisdom in the case of Moussa Isa and gave him the +minimum of food that might be calculated to keep within him strength +adequate to his duties of steering, swarming up the mast, baling, +cooking, massaging the liver of the Leading Gentleman, and so forth. And +in due course, the calm continuing, these pious and religious voyagers +came to the bitter end of their water, their rice, their _dhurra_, their +dates--and all (except the salt and coffee which formed part of the +ostensible, bogus cargo) that they had, as they too-slowly drifted into +the track of those vessels that enter and leave the strait of +Bab-el-Mandeb, the Gate of Tears, the tears of the starving, drowning, +ship-wrecked and castaway. + +Salt _per se_ is a poor diet, and, for the making of potable coffee, +fresh water is very necessary. + +Some of the Argonauts were, as has been said, Negro gentlemen. On the +third day of absolute starvation, one had an Idea and made a suggestion. + +The Leading Gentleman entertained it with an open mind and without +enthusiasm. + +The Tanga tout acclaimed it as a divine inspiration. + +The one-eyed Moor literally smiled upon it. As his eye was single and +his body therefore full of light, he saw the beauty of the notion at +once. Had it been full of food instead, we may charitably suppose he +would not have remarked:-- + +"A pity we did not feed him up better". + +For the suggestion concerned Moussa Isa and food--Moussa Isa as food, +in point of fact. The venerable gentle-looking Arab, whose face beamed +effulgent with benevolence and virtue, murmured:-- + +"He will have but little blood, the dog. None of it must +be--er--_wasted_ by the--ah--butcher." + +The huge man with the neat geometrical pattern of little scars, +perpendicular on the forehead, horizontal on the cheeks and in +concentric circles on the chest (done with loving care and a knife, in +his infancy, by his papa) said only "_Ptwack_" as he chewed a mouthful +of coffee-beans and hide. It may have been a pious ejaculation or a +whole speech in his own peculiar vernacular. It was a tremendous +smacking of tremendous lips, and the expression which overspread his +speaking countenance was of gusto, appreciative, and such as accords +with lip-smacking. + +But a very fair man (very fair beside the Negroes, Somalis, Arabs and +others our little black and brown brothers), a man with grey-blue eyes, +light brown hair and moustache, and olive complexion, said to the +originator of the Idea in faultless English, if not in faultless taste +"You damned swine". + +A look of profoundest disgust overspread his handsome young face, a face +which undoubtedly lent itself to very clear expression of such feelings +as contempt, disgust and scorn, an unusual face, with the thin +high-bridged nose of an English aristocrat, the large eyes and pencilled +black brows of an Indian noble, the sallow yet cheek-flushed complexion +of an Italian peasant-girl, and the firm lips, square jaw, and prominent +chin of a fighting-man. It was essentially an English face in +expression, and essentially foreign in detail; a face of extraordinary +contradictions. The eyes were English in colour, Oriental in size and +shape; the mouth and chin English in mould and in repose, Oriental in +mobility and animation; the whole countenance English in shape, Oriental +in complexion and profile--a fine, high-bred, strong face, upon which +played shadows of cruelty, ferocity, diabolical cunning; a face admired +more quickly than liked, inspiring more speculation than trust. + +The same duality and contradiction were proclaimed in the hands--strong, +tenacious, virile hands; small, fine, delicate hands; hands with the +powerful and purposeful thumb of the West; hands with the supple +artistic fingers and delicate finger-nails of the East. + +And the man's name was in keeping with hands and face, with mind, body, +soul, and character, for, though he would not have done so, he could +have replied to the query "What is your name?" with "My name? Well, in +full, it is John Robin Ross-Ellison Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan, and its explanation is my descent from General Ross-Ellison, +Laird of Glencairn, and from Mir Faquir Mahommed Afzul Khan, Jam of +Mekran Kot". + +In Piccadilly, wearing the garb of Piccadilly, he looked an Englishman +of the English. + +In Abdul Rehman Bazaar, Cabul, wearing the garb of Abdul Rehman Bazaar, +he looked a Pathan of Pathans. In the former case, rather more sunburnt +than the average lounger in Piccadilly; in the latter, rather fairer +than the average Afghan and Pathan loafer in Abdul Rehman Bazaar. + +"Walking down Unter den Linden in Berlin, with upturned moustache, he +looked a most Teutonic German. + +"You observed, my friend?" queried the Leading Gentleman (whose father +was the son of a Negro-Arab who married, or should have married, a +Jewess captured near Fez, and whose mother was the daughter of a +Tunisian Turk by a half-bred Negress of Timbuctoo). + +"I observed," replied the fair young man in the mongrel Arabic-Swahili +_lingua franca_ of the Red Sea and East African littorals "that it is +but natural for dogs to prey upon dogs." + +"There are times when the lion is driven to prey upon dogs, my dear +son," interposed the mild-eyed, benevolent-looking Arab--a pensive smile +on his venerable face. + +"Yes--when he is old, mangy, toothless and deserving of nothing better, +my dear father," replied the fair young man, and his glances at the +white beard, scanty locks and mumbling mouth of the ancient gentleman +had an unpleasantly personal quality. To the casual on-looker it would +have seemed that an impudent boy deliberately insulted a harmless +benevolent old gentleman. To the fair young man, however, it was well +known that the old gentleman's name was famous across Northern and +Eastern Africa for monstrous villainy and fiendish cruelty--the name of +the worst and wickedest of those traders in "black ivory," one of whose +side-lines is frequently gun-running. Also he knew that the +benevolent-looking old dear was desirous that the Leading Gentleman, his +partner, should join with him in a little scheme (a scheme revealed by +one Moussa Isa, eaves-dropper) to give the fair young man some inches +of steel instead of the pounds of Teutonic gold due for services (and +rifles) rendered, when they should reach the quiet spot on the northern +shore of the Persian Gulf where certain bold caravan-leaders would await +them and their precious cargo--a scheme condemned by the Leading +Gentleman on the grounds of the folly of killing the goose that laid the +golden eggs. But then the wealthy Arab patriarch was retiring from the +risky business (already nearly ruined and destroyed by English +gun-boats) after that trip, and the Leading Gentleman was not. Thus it +was that the attitude of the fair young man toward Sheikh Abou ben +Mustapha Muscati did not display that degree of respect that his grey +hairs and beautiful old face would appear to deserve. + +The French-speaking Moslem Berber _ex_-Zouave, from Algiers, suggested +that Moussa Isa, a slave, was certainly not fitting food for gentlemen +who fight, hunt, travel, poach elephants, deal in "black ivory," run +guns, and generally lead a life too picturesque for an over-"educated," +utilitarian and depressing age--but what would you? "One eats--but yes, +one eats, or one ceases to live, and one does not wish to cease to +live--and therefore one eats" and he cocked a yellow and appraising eye +at Moussa Isa. The sense of the meeting appeared to be that though one +would not have chosen this particular animal, necessity knows no +rule--and if the throat be cut while the animal be alive, one may eat of +the flesh and break the Law by so much the less. Moussa Isa must be +_halalled_.[40] But the fair young man drawing a Khyber knife with two +feet of blade, observed that it was now likely that there would be a +plethora of food, as he would most assuredly cut the throat of any +throat-cutter. + + [40] To _halal_ is to make lawful, here to cut the throat of a living + animal in order that its flesh may be eatable by good Mussulmans. + +Moussa Isa regarded him with the look often seen in the eye of an +intelligent dog. + +The venerable Arab smiled meaningly at the Leading Gentleman, and the +Tanga tout asked if all were to hunger for the silly scruples of one. +"If the fair-faced Sheikh did not wish to eat of Moussa, none would urge +it. Live and let live. The gentlemen were hungry; ..." but the fair +young man unreasonably replied, "Then let them eat _thee_ since they can +stomach carrion," and for the moment the subject dropped--largely +because the fair young man was supposed always to carry a revolver, +which was not a habit of his good colleagues. It was another evidence of +his strange duality that revolver and knife were (rare phenomenon) +equally acceptable to him, though in certain environment the pistol +rather suggested itself to his left hand, while in others his right hand +went quite unconsciously to his long knife. + +In the present company no thought of the fire-arm entered his head--this +was a knifing, back-stabbing outfit;--none here who stood up to shoot +and be shot at in fair fight.... + +The Leading Gentleman looked many times and hard at Moussa Isa during +the second day of his own starvation, which was the third of that of his +companions and the fourth of Moussa's. The Leading Gentleman, who was as +rich as he was ragged and dirty, wore a very beautiful knife, which +(though it reposed in a gaudy sheath of yellow, green and blue beads, +fringed with a dependent filigree, or lace work, of similar beads with +tassels of cowrie-shells) hailed from Damascus and had a handle of ivory +and gold, and an inlaid blade on which were inscribed verses from the +Q'ran. + +Moussa Isa knew the pattern of it well by the close of day. The Leading +Gentleman took that evening to sharpening the already sharp blade of the +knife. As he sharpened it on his sandal and the side of the boat, and +tried its edge on his thumb, he regarded the thin body of Moussa Isa +very critically. + +His look blended contempt, anticipation, and anxiety. + +He broke a long brooding silence with the remark:-- + +"The little dog will be thinner still, to-morrow "--a remark which +evoked from the fair youth the reply: "And so will you". + +Perhaps truth covered and excused a certain indelicacy and callousness +in the statement of the Leading Gentleman, albeit the fair young man +appeared annoyed at it. His British blood and instincts became +predominant when the killing and eating of a fellow-creature were on the +_tapis_--the said fellow-creature being on it at the same time. + +A colleague from Dar-es-Salaam, who had an ear and a half, three teeth, +six fingers, innumerable pockmarks and a German accent, said, "He will +have little fat," and there was bitterness in his tone. As a business +man he realized a bad investment of capital. The food in which they had +wallowed should have gone to the fattening of Moussa Isa. Also a fear +struck him. + +"He'll jump overboard in the night--the ungrateful dog. Tie him up," and +he reached for a coil of cord. + +"He will not be tied up," observed the fair youth in a quiet, obstinate +voice. + +"See, my friend," said the Leading Gentleman, "it is a case of one or +many. Better _that_ one," and he pointed to Moussa Isa, "than another," +and he looked meaningly at the fair young man. + +"And yet, I know not," murmured the venerable Arab, "I know not. We are +not in the debt of the slave. We _are_ in the debt of the Sheikh. It +would cancel all obligations if the Sheikh from the North preferred to +offer himself as--" + +The young man's long knife flashed from its sheath as he sprang to his +feet. "Let us eat monkey, if eat we must," he cried, pointing to the +Arab--and, even as he spoke, the huge man with the scars, flinging his +great arms around the youth's ankles, partly rose and neatly tipped him +overboard. He had long hated the fair man. + +Straightway, unseen by any, as all eyes were on the grey-eyed youth and +his assailant, Moussa Isa cast loose the _toni_[41] that nestled beneath +the stern of the larger boat. He was about to shout that he had done so +when he realised that this would defeat his purpose, and also that the +fair Sheikh was still under water. + + [41] Small dug-out canoe. + +"Good," murmured the old Arab, "now brain him as he comes up--and secure +his body." + +But the fair youth knew better than to rise in the immediate +neighbourhood of the boat. Swimming with the ease, grace and speed of a +seal, he emerged with bursting lungs a good hundred yards from where he +had disappeared. Having breathed deeply he again sank, to re-appear at +a point still more distant, and be lost in the gathering gloom. + +"He is off to Cabul to lay his case before the Amir," observed the +elderly Arab with grim humour. + +"Doubtless," agreed the Leading Gentleman, "he will swim the 2000 miles +to India, and then up the Indus to Attock." And added, "But, bear +witness all, if the young devil turn up again some day, that _I_ had no +quarrel with him.... A pity! A pity!... Where shall we find his like, a +Prank among the Franks, an Afghan among Afghans, a Frenchman in Algiers, +a nomad robber in Persia, a Bey in Cairo, a Sahib in Bombay--equally at +home as gentleman or tribesman? Where shall we find his like again as +gatherer of the yellow honey of Berlin and as negotiator in Marseilles +(where the discarded Gras breech-loaders of the army grow) and in +Muscat? Woe! Woe!" + +"Or his like for impudence to his elders, harshness in a bargain, +cunning and greed?" added the benevolent-looking Arab, who had gained a +handsome sum by the murder. + +"For courage," corrected the Leading Gentleman, and with a heavy sigh, +groaned. "We shall never see him more--and he was worth his weight to me +annually in gold." + +"No, you won't see him again," agreed the Arab. "He'll hardly swim to +Aden--apart from the little matter of sharks.... A pity the sharks +should have so fair a body--and we starve!" and he turned a fatherly +benevolent eye on Moussa Isa--whom a tall slender black Arab, from the +hills about Port Sudan, of the true "fuzzy-wuzzy" type, had seized in +his thin but Herculean arms as the boy rose to spring into the _toni_ +and paddle to the rescue of his benefactor. + +The Dar-es-Salaam merchant threw Fuzzy Wuzzy a coil of cord and Moussa +Isa (who struggled, kicked, bit and finding resistance hopeless, +screamed, "Follow the boat, Master," as he lay on his back), was bound +to a cracked and salt-encrusted beam or seat that supported, or was +supported by, the cracked and salt-encrusted sides of the canoe-shaped +vessel. + +Although very, very hungry, and perhaps as conscienceless and wicked a +gang as ever assembled together on the earth or went down to the sea in +ships, there was yet a certain reluctance on the part of some of the +members to revert to cannibalism, although all agreed that it was +necessary. + +Among the reluctant-to-commence were those who had no negro blood. Among +the ready-to-commence, the full-blooded negroes were the most impatient. + +Although very hungry and rather weak they were in different case from +that of European castaway sailors, in that all were inured to long +periods of fasting, all had crossed the Sahara or the Sus, lived for +days on a handful of dates, and had tightened the waist-string by way of +a meal. Few of them ever thought of eating between sunrise and sunset. +The lives of the negroes were alternations of gorging and starving, +incredible repletion and more incredible fasting; devouring vast masses +of hippopotamus-flesh to-day, and starving for a week thereafter; pounds +of prime meat to-day, gnawing hunger and the weakness of semi-starvation +for the next month. + +"At sunrise," said the Leading Gentleman finality. + +Good! That left the so-desirable element of chance. It left opportunity +for change of programme inasmuch as sunrise might disclose help in the +shape of a passing ship. The matter would rest with Heaven, and pious +men might lay them down to sleep with clear conscience, reflecting that, +should it be the Will of Allah that His servants should not eat of this +flesh, other would be provided; should other not be provided it was +clearly the Will of Allah that His servants should eat of this flesh! +Excellent--there would be a meal soon after sunrise. + +And the Argonauts laid them down to sleep, hungry but gratefully +trustful, trustfully grateful. But Moussa Isa watched the wondrous +lustrous stars throughout the age-long, flash-short night and thought of +many things. + +Had the splendid, noble Sheikh from the North heard his cry and had he +found the _toni_? How far had he swum ere his strength gave out or, with +sudden swirl, he was dragged under by the man-eating shark? Would he +remove his long cotton shirt, velvet waistcoat and baggy cotton +trousers? The latter would present difficulties, for the waist-string +would tangle and the water would swell the knot and prevent the drawing +of string over string. + +Moreover, the garments, though very baggy, were tight round the ankles. +Would he cast off his beautiful yard-long Khyber knife? It would go to +his heart to do that, both for the sake of the weapon itself and because +he would have to go to his death unavenged, seized by a shark without +giving it its death-wound. Had he heard and would he follow the boat in +the moonlight, find the _toni_ and escape? Could he swim to Aden? They +had said not--even leaving sharks out of consideration, and indeed it +must be forty or fifty miles away. Judging by their progress they must +have done about one hundred and fifty miles since they embarked at the +lonely spot on the Berbera coast for the other lonely spot on the Aden +coast, where certain whisperings with certain mysterious camel-riders +would preface their provisioning for the voyage along the weary +Hadramant coast to the Ras el Had and Muscat--just a humble boat-load of +poor but honest toilers and tradesmen, interested in dried fish, dates, +the pearl-fishery and the pettiest trading. No, he would never reach +land, wonderful swimmer as he was. He would be lost in the sea as is the +Webi Shebeyli River in the sands of the South, unless he followed the +drifting boat and found the _toni_. Otherwise, he might be picked up, +but he would have to keep afloat all night to do that, unless he had the +extraordinary luck to be seen by dhow or ship before dark. That could +hardly be, unless the same ship or dhow were visible from their own +boat, and none had been seen. + +No, he must be dead--and Moussa Isa would shortly follow him. How he +wished he could have given his life to save him. Had he known, he would +have cried out, "Let them eat me, O Master," and prevented him from +risking his life. If he should get the chance of striking one blow for +his life in the morning he would bestow it upon the scar-faced beast who +had tripped the fair Sheik overboard. If he could strike two he would +give the second to the old Arab who flogged women and children to death +with the _kourbash_,[42] as an amusement, and whose cruelties were +famous in a cruel land; the old Evil who hated, and plotted the death +of, the fair Sheikh, with the leader of the expedition in order that +they might divide his large share of the gun-running proceeds and German +subsidy. If he could strike a third blow it should be at the filthy +Hubshi of the Aruwimi, the low degraded Woolly One from the dark +Interior (of human sacrifice, cannibalism and ju-ju) who had proposed +eating him. Yes--if he could grab the leader's knife and deal three such +stabs as the Sheikh dealt the lion, at these three, he could die +content. But this was absurd! They would _halal_ him first, of course, +and unbind him afterwards.... They might unbind him first though, so as +to place him favourably with regard to--economy. They would use the +empty army-ration tin, shining there like silver in the moonlight, the +tin with which he had done so much weary baling. Doubtless the leader +and the Arab would share its contents. He grudged it them, and hoped a +quarrel and struggle might arise and cause it to be spilt. + + [42] Rhinoceros-hide whip. + +An unpleasant death! Without cowardice one might dislike the thought of +having one's throat cut while one's hands were bound and one watched the +blood gushing into an old army-ration tin. Perhaps there would be none +to gush--and a good job too. Serve them right. Could he cut his wrists +on a nail or a splinter or with the cords, and cheat them, if there were +any blood in him now. He would try. Yes, an unpleasant death. No one, +no true Somali, that is, objected to a prod in the heart with a +shovel-headed spear, a thwack in the head with a hammered slug, a sweep +at the neck with a big sword--but to have a person sawing at your throat +with weak and shaking hands is rotten.... + +One quite appreciated that masters must eat and slaves must die, and the +religious necessity for cutting the throat while the animal is alive, +according to the Law--and there was great comfort in the fact that the +leader's knife was inscribed with verses of the Q'ran and would probably +be used for the job. (The leader liked jobs of that sort.) Countless it +would confer distinction in Paradise upon one already distinguished as +having died to provide food for a band of right-thinking, +religious-minded gentlemen, who, even in such terrible straits, forgot +not the Law nor omitted the ceremonies.... + +Where now was the fair-faced master who so resembled the English but was +so much braver, fiercer, so much more staunch? Though fair as they, and +knowing their speech, he could not be of a race that led whole tribes to +trust in them, called them "Friendlies" and then forsook them; came to +them in the day of trouble asking help, and then scuttled away and +deserted their allies, leaving them to face alone the Power whose wrath +and vengeance their help-giving had provoked. Yet there were good men +among them--there was Kafil[43] Bey for example. Kafil Bey whose last +noble fight he had witnessed. If the fair-faced Sheikh had any of the +weak English blood in his veins it must be of such a man as Kafil Bey. + + [43] Corfield? + +Was he still swimming? Had he been picked up? Was he shark's food? To +think that _he_ should have come to his death over such a thing as a +slave boy (albeit a Somali and no Hubshi). + +This was an Emir indeed. + +An idea!... He called aloud: "Are you there, Master? The _toni_ is loose +and must be near," again and again, louder and louder. Perhaps he was +following and would hear. Again, louder still. + +The one-eyed man, disturbed by the cry, stirred, threw his arms abroad, +stretched, and put his foot on the mouth of a neighbour lying +head-to-foot beside him. The neighbour snored loudly and turned his face +sideways under the foot. He had slept standing jammed against the wall +in the Idris of Omdurman, one of the most terrible jails of all time, +and a huge foot on his face was a matter of no moment. + +The Tanga tout suddenly emitted a scream, a blood-curdling scream, and +immediately scratched his ribs like a monkey.... Moussa Isa held his +peace. + +Anon the scar-faced man turned over, moving others. + +Could it be near dawn already, and were his proprietors waking up? He +could see no change in the East, no paling of the lustrous stars. Was it +an hour ago or eight hours ago that the night had fallen? Had he an hour +to live or a night? Would he ever see Berbera again, steer a boat down +its deep inlet, gaze upon its two lighthouses, its fort, hospital, +barracks, piers, warehouses, bazaars; drive a camel along by its seven +miles of aqueduct, look down from the hills upon this wonderful and +mighty metropolis, greater and grander than Jibuti, Zeyla, Bulhar and +Karam, surely the greatest and most marvellous port and city of the +world, ere driving on through the thorn-bush and acacia-jungle into the +vast waterless Haud? Would he ever again see the sun rise in the desert, +smell the smoke of the camel-dung cooking-fires.... What was that? The +sky was paling in the East, growing grey, a rose-pink flush on the +horizon--dawn and death were at hand. + +Before the heralds of the sun, the moon slowly veiled her face with +lightest gossamer while the weaker stars fled. The daily miracle and +common marvel proceeded before the tired eyes of the bound slave; the +rim of the sun appeared above the rim of the sea; the moon more deeply +veiled her face from the fierce red eye, and gracefully and gradually +retired before the advance of the usurping conqueror--and the slave +seemed to hear the fat croaking voice of the leader saying, "At +sunrise". + +Broad day and all but he asleep. Well--it had come at last. When would +they awake? Was the toni anywhere near? + +The man with the geometrical pattern of scars on his face and chest +suddenly sat bolt upright like a released spring, yawned, looked at the +sky and the limp sail, and then at Moussa Isa. As his eye fell upon the +boy he smiled copiously, protruded a very red tongue between very white +teeth, and licked huge blue-black lips. He leaned over and awakened the +Leading Gentleman. Then he pointed to the Victim. Both watched the +horizon where, beyond distant Bombay and China, the sun was appearing, +rising with the rapidity of the minute hand of a big clock. Neither +looked to the West. + +The child knew that when the sun had risen clear of the sea, he might +look upon it for a minute or two--and no more. A puff of wind fanned his +cheek; the sail filled and drew. The boat moved through the water and +the one-eyed gentleman, arising and treading upon the out-lying tracts +of the sleepers, stumbled to the rudder, which was tied with +coconut-fibre to an upright stake. The breeze strengthened and there was +a ripple of water at the bows. Was he saved? + +The one-eyed person looked more disappointed than pleased, and observed +to the Leading Gentleman: "We cannot live to Aden, though the wind hold. +We must eat," and he regarded the figure of Moussa Isa critically, +appraisingly, with mingled favour and disfavour. His expressive +countenance seemed to say, "He is food--but he is poor food". + +Nevertheless an unmistakable look of relief overspread his face as the +Leading Gentleman replied with conviction, "We must eat...." and added, +"This is but a dawn-breeze and will not take us half a mile". + +"Then let us eat forthwith," said the one-eyed man, and he fairly beamed +upon Moussa Isa, doubtless with the said light of which his body was +full, in consequence of his singleness of vision. The whole party was by +this time awake and Moussa Isa the cynosure of neighbouring eyes. The +Leading Gentleman drew his beautiful knife from its tawdry sheath and +gave it a last loving strop on his horny palm. + +Willing hands dragged the head of Moussa Isa across the beam and willing +bodies sat upon him, that he might not waste time, and something more +precious, by thoughtless wriggling, delaying breakfast. The Leading +Gentleman crawled to an advantageous position, and having bowed in +prayer, sawed away industriously. + +Moussa Isa wished to shriek to him that he was a fool and a bungler; +that throats were not to be cut in that fashion, with hackings and +sawing at the gullet. Knew the clumsy fumbler nothing of big +blood-vessels?... but he could not speak. + +"_That_ is not the way," said the benevolent-looking old Arab. "Stab, +man, stab under the ear--don't cut ... not there, anyhow." + +The Leading Gentleman tried the other side of the double-edged blade, +continuing obstinately, and Moussa Isa contrived a strange sound which +died away on a curious bubbling note and he grew faint. + +Suddenly the one-eyed individual at the rudder screamed aloud, and +disturbed the Leading Gentleman's earnest endeavour to prevent waste. +Not from sensibility did the one-eyed scream, nor on account of his +growing conviction that the Leading Gentleman was getting more than his +share, but because, as all realized upon looking up, a great ship was +bearing down upon them from the West. + +So intent had all been upon the preparation of breakfast that the +steamer was almost audible when seen. + +Good! Here came water, rice, bread, sugar, flour, and perhaps meat, for +poor castaways, and probably money--from kindly lady-passengers, this +last, for the ship was obviously a liner. The wretched Moussa Isa's +carcase was now superfluous--nay dangerous, and must be disposed of at +once, for Europeans are most kittle cattle. They will exterminate your +tribe with machine-guns, gin, small-pox, and still nastier things, but +they are fearfully shocked at a bit of killing on the part of others. +They call it murder. And though they will well-nigh depopulate a country +themselves, they will wax highly indignant if any of the survivors do a +little slaying, even if they kill but a miserable slave, like this +Somali dog. + +Heave him overboard. + +No. Ships carry the "far-eye," the magic instrument that makes the +distant near, that brings things from miles away to within a few yards. +Doubtless telescopes were on them already. Keep in a close group round +the body, smuggle it under the palm-mats and make believe to have been +trying to kindle a fire in an old kerosine-oil tin.... Signals of +distress appeared and Moussa Isa disappeared. The great steamer +approached, slowed down, and came to a standstill beside the boat of the +starving castaways. From her cliff-like side the passengers, crowding +the rails of her many decks, looked down with interest upon a +prehistoric craft in which lay a number of poor emaciated blacks and +Arabs, clad for the most part in scanty cotton rags. These poor +creatures feebly extended skinny hands and feebly raised quavering +voices, as they begged for water and a little rice, only water and a +little rice in the name of Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate. Their +tins, lotahs and goat-skins were filled, bags of rice, bread and flour +were lowered to them; a box of sugar and a packet of biscuit were added; +and a gentle little rain of coins fell as though from Heaven. + +Kodaks clicked, clergymen beamed, ladies said, "How sweetly +picturesque--poor dears"; the Captain murmured, "Damnedest scoundrels +unhung--but can't leave 'em to starve"; the "poor dears" smiled largely +and ate wolfishly; Moussa Isa bled, and the great steamer resumed her +way. + +"Pat" Brighte (she was Cleopatra Diamond Brighte who married Colonel +Dearman of the Gungapur Volunteer Bines) found she had got a splendid +snap-shot when her films were developed at Gungapur. A little later she +got another when the look-out saw, and a boat picked up, a man who was +lying in a little dug-out or _toni_. When able to speak, he told the +_serang_[44] of the lascars that he was the sole survivor of a +bunder-boat which had turned turtle and sunk. He understood nothing but +Hindustani.... Miss Brighte pitied the poor wretch but thought he looked +rather horrid.... + + [44] Native boatswain. + +The hearts of the castaways were filled with contentment as their +stomachs were filled with food, and so busily did they devote themselves +to eating, drinking, and sleeping that they forgot all about Moussa Isa +beneath the palm-mats. + +When they chanced upon him he was just alive, and his wound was closed. +The attitude in which he had been dumped down upon the cargo (the +ostensible and upper strata thereof, consisting of hides and salt, with +a hint of ostrich-feathers, coffee, frankincense and myrrh) had favoured +his chance of recovery, for, thanks to a friendly bundle, his head was +pressed forward to his chest and the lips of the gaping wound in his +throat were shut. + +Moussa Isa was tougher than an Indian chicken. + +Near Aden his proprietors were captured by an officious and +unsympathetic police (Moussa was sent to what he dreamed to be Heaven +and later perceived to be a hospital) and while they went to jail, a +number of bristly-haired Teutonic gentlemen at the Freidrichstrasse, +Arab gentlemen at Muscat, and Afghan gentlemen at Cabul, were made to +exercise the virtue of patience. So the would-be murderers of John Robin +Ross-Ellison Ilderim Dost Mahommed unintentionally saved him from jail, +but never received his acknowledgments.... + +Discharged from the hospital, Moussa became his own master, a gentleman +at large, and, for a time, prospered in the coal-trade. + +He steered a coal-lighter that journeyed between the shore and the +ships. + +One day he received a blow, a curse, and an insult, from the _maccudam_ +or foreman of the gang that worked in the boat which he steered. Neither +blows nor curses were of any particular account to Moussa, but this man +Sulemani, a nondescript creature of no particular race, and only a man +in the sense that he was not a woman nor a quadruped, had called him +"_Hubshi_" Woolly One. Had called Moussa Isa of the Somal a _Hubshi_, as +though he had been a common black nigger. And, of course, it was +intentional, for even this eater of dogs and swine and lizards knew the +great noble, civilized and cultured Somal, Galla, Afar and Abyssinian +people from niggers. Even an English hide-and-head-buying tripper and +_soi-disant_ big-game hunter knew a Zulu from a Hottentot, a Masai from +a Wazarambo, and a Somali from a Nigger! + +The only question was as to _how_ the scoundrel should be killed, for +he was large and strong, and never far from a shovel, crow-bar, +boat-hook or some weapon. Not much hope of being able to fasten on his +throat like a young leopard on a dibatag, kudu or impala buck. + +As Moussa sat behind him at the tiller, he would regard the villain's +neck with interest, his fat neck, just below and behind the big ear. + +If he only had a knife--such as the beauty that once cut his throat--or +even a scrap of iron or of really hard pointed wood, honour could be +satisfied and a stain removed from the scutcheon of Moussa Isa of the +Somal race, insulted. + +One lucky night he got his next scar, the fine one that ornamented his +cheek-bone, and a really serviceable weapon of offence against the +offender Sulemani. + +On this auspicious night, a festive English sailor flung a bottle at +him, in merry sport, as he passed beneath the verandah of the temple of +Venus and Bacchus in which the sailor sprawled. It struck him in the +face, broke against his cheek-bone, and provided him with a new scar and +a serviceable weapon, a dagger, convenient to handle and deadly to slay. +The bottle-neck was a perfect hilt and the long tapering needle-pointed +spire of glass projecting from it was a perfect blade--rightly used, of +course. Only a fool would attempt a heart-stab with such a dagger, as it +would shatter on the ribs, leaving the fool to pay for his folly. But +the neck-stab--for the big blood-vessels--oho! And Moussa Isa licked +his chops just as he had seen the black-maned lion do in his own +fatherland; just as did the lion from whom the fair Sheikh had saved +him. + +Toward the sailor, Moussa felt no resentment for the assault that had +laid him bleeding in the gutter. Had he called him "_Hubshi_" it would +have been a different matter--perhaps very different for the sailor. +Moussa Isa regarded curses, cruelties, blows, wounds, attempts at +murder, as mere natural manifestations of the attitude of their +originators, and part of the inevitable scheme of things. Insults to his +personal and racial Pride were in another category altogether. + +Yes--the bottle must have been thus usefully broken by the hand of the +Supreme Deity himself, prompted by Moussa's own particular and private +_kismet_, to provide Moussa with the means of doing his duty by himself +and his race, in the matter of the dog who had likened a long-haired, +ringletty-haired aquiline-nosed, thin-lipped son of the Somals to a +Woolly One--a black beast of the jungle! + +Our young friend had never heard of the historical glass-bladed daggers +of the _bravos_ of Venice, but he saw at a glance, as he rose to his +feet and stared at the bottle, that he could do his business (and that +of the foreman) with the fortunately--shaped fragment, and eke leave the +point of the weapon in the wound for future complications if the blow +failed of immediate fatal effect. + +He bided his time.... + +One black night Moussa Isa sat on the stern of his barge holding to a +rope beneath the high wall of the side of the P. & O. liner, _Persia_, +in shadow and darkness undispelled by the flickering flare of a brazier +of burning fuel, designed to illuminate the path of panting, sweating, +coal-laden coolies up and down narrow bending planks, laid from the +lighter to the gloomy hole in the ship's side. + +The hot, still air was thick with coal-dust and the harmless necessary +howls of the hundreds of sons of Ham, toiling at high pressure. + +In the centre of a vast, silent circle of mysterious lamp-spangled sea +and shore, and of star-spangled sky, this spot was Inferno, an offence +to the brooding still immensity. + +And suddenly Moussa Isa was dimly conscious of his enemy, of him who had +insulted the great Somal race and Moussa Isa. On the broad edge of the +big barge Sulemani stood, before, and a foot below him, in the darkness, +yelling directions, threats, promises and encouragement to his gang. If +only there had been a moon or light by which he could see to strike! +Suddenly the edge of a beam of yellow light from a port-hole struck upon +Sulemani's neck, illuminating it below and behind his ear. Mrs. "Pat" +Dearman, homeward bound, had just entered her cabin and switched on the +electric light. (When last she passed Aden she had been Miss Cleopatra +Diamond Brighte, bound for Gungapur and the bungalow of her brother.) + +It was Mrs. Pat Dearman's habit to read a portion of the Scriptures +nightly, ere retiring to rest, for she was a Good Woman and considered +the practice to be not only a mark of, but essential to, goodness. + +Doubtless the Powers of Evil smiled sardonically when they noted that +the light which she evoked for her pious exercise lit the hand of Moussa +Isa to murder, providing opportunity. Moussa Isa weighed chances and +considered. He did not want to bungle it and lose his revenge and his +life too. Would he be seen if he struck now? The light fell on the very +spot for the true infallible death-stroke. Should he strike now, here, +in the midst of the yelling mob? + +Rising silently, Moussa drew his dagger of glass from beneath his only +garment, aimed at the patch of light upon the fat neck, and struck. +Sulemani lurched, collapsed, and fell between the lighter and the ship +without an audible sound in that dim pandemonium. + +Even as the "dagger" touched flesh, the light was quenched, Mrs. Pat +Dearman having realized that the stuffy, hot cabin was positively +uninhabitable until the port-hole could be opened, after coaling +operations were completed. + +Moussa Isa reseated himself, grabbed the rope again, and with clear +conscience, duty done, calmly awaited that which might follow. + +Nothing followed. None had seen the deed, consummated in unrelieved +gloom; the light had failed most timely.... + +The next person who mortally affronted Moussa Isa, committing the +unpardonable sin, was a grievously fat, foolish Indian Mohammedan youth +whose father supported four wives, five sons, six daughters and himself +in idleness and an Aden shop. + +It was a remarkably idle and unobtrusive shop and yet money flowed into +it without stint, mysteriously and unostentatiously, the conduits of its +flow being certain modest and retiring Arab visitors in long brown or +white _haiks_, with check cotton head-dresses girt with ropes of +camel-hair, who collogued with the honest tradesman and departed as +silently and unobtrusively as they came.... + +One of them, strangely enough, ejaculated "_Himmel_" and +"_Donnerwetter_" as often as "_Bismillah_" and "_Inshallah_" when he +swore. + +The very fat son of this secretive house in an evil hour one +inauspicious evening took it upon him to revile and abuse his father's +servant, one Moussa Isa, an African boy, as he performed divers domestic +duties in the exiguous "compound" of the dwelling-place and refused to +do the fat youth's behest ere completing them. + +"Haste thee at once to the bazaar, thou dog," screamed the fat youth. + +"Later on," replied Moussa Isa, using the words that express the general +attitude of the East. + +"Now, dog. Now, Hubshi, or I will beat thee." + +"I will kill _you_," replied Moussa Isa, and again bided his time. + +"Hubshi, Hubshi, Hubshi," goaded the misguided fat one. + +His Kismet led the youth, some weeks later, to lay him down and sleep in +the shade of the house upon some broad flagstones. Here Moussa found him +and regretted the loss of his glass-dagger,--last seen in the neck of a +foreman of coal-coolies toppling into the dark void between a barge and +a ship,--but remembered a big heavy stone used to facilitate the scaling +of the compound wall. + +Staggering with it to the spot where the fat youth lay slumbering +peacefully, Moussa Isa, in the sight of all men (who happened to be +looking), dashed it upon his fez-adorned head, and established the +hitherto disputable fact that the fat youth had brains. + +To the Magistrate, Moussa Isa offered neither excuse nor prayer. +Explanation he vouchsafed in the words:-- + +"He called _me_, Moussa Isa of the Somali, a _Hubshi!_" + +Being of tender years and of insignificant stature he was condemned to +flogging and seven years in a Reformatory School. He was too juvenile +for the Aden Jail. The Reformatory School nearest to Aden is at Duri in +India, and thither, in spite of earnest prayers that he might go to hard +labour in Aden Jail like a man and a Somali, was Moussa Isa duly +transported and therein incarcerated. + +At the Duri Reformatory School, Moussa Isa was profoundly miserable, +most unhappy, and deeply depressed by a sense of the very cruellest +injustice. + +For here they simply did not know the difference between a Somal and a +woolly-haired dog of a negro. They honestly did not know that there was +a difference. To them, a clicking Bushman was as a Nubian, an +earth-eating Kattia as a Kabyle, a face-cicatrized, tooth-sharpened +cannibal of the Aruwimi as a Danakil,--a _Hubshi_ as a Somal. They +simply did not know. To them all Africans were _Hubshis_ (just as to an +English M.P. all the three or four hundred millions of Indians are +Bengali babus). They meant no insult; they knew no better. All Africans +were black niggers and every soul in the place, from Brahmin to +Untouchable, looked down upon the African, the Black Man, the Nigger, +the Cannibal, the _Hubshi_, sent from Africa to defile their Reformatory +and destroy their caste. + +Here, the proud self-respecting Moussa, jealous champion of the honour +of his, to him, high and noble race, found himself a god-send to the +Out-castes, the Untouchables, the Depressed Classes, Mangs, Mahars, and +Sudras,--they whose touch, nay the touch of whose very shadow, is +defilement! For, at last, they, too, had some one to look down upon, to +despise, to insult. After being the recipients-of-contempt as naturally +and ordainedly as they were breathers-of-air, they at last could apply a +salve, and pass on to another the utter contempt and loathing which they +themselves received and accepted from the Brahmins and all those of +Caste. They had found one lower than themselves. _Moussa Isa of the +Somali_ was the out-cast of out-casts, the pariah of pariahs, prohibited +from touching the untouchables, one of a class depressed below the +depressed classes--in short a _Hubshi!_ + +Even a broad-nosed, foreheadless, blubber--lipped aborigine from the +hill-jungles objected to his presence! + +In the small, self-contained, self-supporting world of the Reformatory, +it was Moussa Isa against the World. And against the World he stood up. + +It had to learn the difference between a Somali and a _Hubshi_ at any +cost--the cost of Moussa's life included. + +What added to the sorrow of the situation was the realization of how +charming and desirable a retreat the place was in itself,--apart from +its ignorant and stupid inhabitants. + +Expecting a kind of torture-house wherein he would be starved, sweated, +thrashed by brutal _kourbash_-wielding overseers, he found the most +palatial and comfortable of clubs, a place of perfect peace, safety, +and ease, where one was kindly treated by those in authority, +sumptuously fed, luxuriously lodged, and provided with pleasant +occupation, attractive amusements and reasonable leisure. + +He had always heard and believed that the English were mad, and now he +knew it. + +As a punishment for murder he had got a birching that merely tickled +him, and a free ticket to seven years' board, lodging, clothing, +lighting, medical care, instruction and diversion! + +_Wow_! + +Were it not for the presence of the insolent, ignorant, untravelled, +inexperienced, soft-living, lily-livered dogs of inhabitants, the place +was the Earthly Paradise. They were the crocodile in the ointment. + +A young Brahmin, son of a well-paid Government servant, and incarcerated +for forgery and theft, was his most annoying persecutor. He was at great +pains to expectorate and murmur "_Hubshi_" in accents of abhorrent +contempt, whenever Moussa Isa chanced between the wind and his nobility. + +The first time, Moussa replied with pitying magnanimity and all +reasonableness:-- + +"I am not a _Hubshi_, but a Somali, which is quite different--even as a +lion is different from a jackal or a man from an ape". + +To which the Brahmin replied but:-- + +"_Hubshi_," and pointed out that there was danger of Moussa Isa's shadow +touching him, if Moussa were not careful. + +"I must kill you if you call me _Hubshi_, understanding that I am of the +Somals," said Moussa Isa. + +"_Hubshi_," would the Brahmin reply and loudly bewail his evil Luck +which had put him in the power of the accursed Feringhi Government--a +Government that compelled a Brahmin to breathe the same air as a filthy +negro dog, a Woolly One of Africa, barely human and most untouchable, a +living Contamination ... and Moussa cast about for a weapon. + +His first opportunity arose when he found the Brahmin, who was in the +book-binding and compositor department, working one day in the same +gardening-gang with himself. + +He had but a watering-can by way of offensive weapon, but good play can +be made with a big iron watering-can wielded in the right spirit and the +right hand. + +Master Brahmin was feebly tapping the earth with a kind of single-headed +pick, and watching him, Moussa Isa saw that, in a quarter of an hour or +so, he might plausibly and legitimately pass within a yard or two of +this his enemy, as he went to and fro between the water-tap and the +strip of flower-border that he was sprinkling.... Would they hang him if +he killed the Brahmin, or would they feebly flog him again and give him +a longer sentence (that he be supported, fed, lodged, clothed and cared +for) than the present seven years? + +There was no foretelling what the mad English would do. Sometimes they +acquitted a criminal and gave him money and education, and sometimes +they sent him to far distant islands in the South and there housed and +fed him free, for life; and sometimes they killed him at the end of a +rope. + +Doubtless Allah smote the English mad to prevent them from stealing the +whole world.... If they were not mad they would do so and enslave all +other races--except their conquerors, the Dervishes, of course.... It +was like the lying hypocrites to call the Great Mullah "the Mad Mullah" +knowing themselves to be mad, and being afraid of their victorious enemy +who had driven them out of Somaliland to the coast forts.... + +Oh, if they would only treat him, Moussa Isa, as an adult, and send him +to the Aden Jail to hard labour. There folk knew a Somali from a +_Hubshi_; a gentleman of Afar and Galla stock, of Arab blood, Moslem +tenets, and Caucasian descent, from a common nigger, a low black +Ethiopian, an eater of men and insects, a worshipper of idols and +_ju-ju_. + +In Aden, men knew a Somali from a _Hubshi_ as surely as they knew an +Emir from a mere Englishman. + +Here, in benighted, ignorant, savage India, the Dark Continent indeed, +men knew not what a Somali was, likened him to a Negro, ranked him lower +than a Hindu even--called him a _Hubshi_ in insolent ignorance. If only +the beautiful Reformatory were in Berbera, and tenanted by Africans. + +Better Aden Jail a thousand times than Duri Reformatory. + +What a splendid joke if the dog of a Brahmin who persistently insulted +him--even after he had been shown his error and ignorance--should be the +unwitting means of his return to Aden--where a Somali gentleman is +recognized. There is no harm about a Jail as such. Far from it. A jail +is a wise man's paradise provided by fools. You have excellent and +plentiful food, a roof against the sun, unfailing water supply, +clothing, interesting occupation, and safety--protection from your +enemies. No man harries you, you are not chained, you are not tortured; +you have all that heart can desire. Freedom?... What _is_ Freedom? +Freedom to die of thirst in the desert? Freedom to be disembowelled by +the Great Mullah? Freedom to be sold as a slave into Arabia or Persia? +Freedom to be the unfed, unpaid, well-beaten property of gun-runners in +the Gulf, or of Arab _safari_ ruffians and "black-ivory" men? Freedom to +be left to the hyaena when you broke down on the march? Freedom to die +of starvation when you fell sick and could not carry coal? Thanks. + +If the mad English provided beautiful refuges, and made the commission +of certain crimes the requisite qualification for admission, let wise +men qualify. + +Take this Reformatory--where else could a little Somali boy get such +safety, peace, food, and sumptuous luxury; everything the heart could +desire, in return for doing a little gardening? Even a house to himself +as though he were the honoured, favourite son of some chief. + +To Moussa Isa, the dark and dingy cell with its bare stone walls, mud +floor, grated aperture and iron door was a fine safe house; its iron +bed-frame with cotton-rug-covered laths and stony pillow, a piece of +wanton luxury; its shelf, stool and utensils, prideful wealth. If only +the place were in Africa or Aden! Well, Aden Jail would do, and if the +Brahmin's death led to his being sent there as a serious and respectable +murderer, it would be a real case of two enemies on one spear--an insult +avenged and a most desired re-patriation achieved. + +That would be subtilty,--at once washing out the insult in the +Brahmin's blood and getting sent whither his heart turned so constantly +and fondly. They had treated him as a juvenile offender because he was +so small and young, and because the killing of the fat Mussulman was his +first offence, as they supposed. Surely they would recognize that he was +a man when he had killed his second enemy--especially if he told them +about Sulemani. What in the name of Allah did they want, to constitute a +real sound criminal, fit for Aden Jail, if three murders were not +enough? Well, he would go on killing until they did have enough, and +were obliged to send him to Aden Jail. There he would behave beautifully +and kill nobody until they wanted to turn him out to starve. Then, since +murder was the requisite qualification, he would murder to admiration. +He knew they could not send him over the way to the Duri Jail, since he +belonged to Aden, had been convicted there, and only sent to the Duri +Reformatory because Aden boasted no such institution.... + +Yes. The Brahmin's corpse should be the stepping-stone to higher things +and the place where people knew a Somali from a Negro. + +If only he were in the carpentry department with Master Brahmin, where +there were axes, hammers, chisels, knives, saws, and various pointed +instruments. Fancy teaching the young gentleman manners and ethnology +with an axe! However, after one or two more journeys between the tap and +the flower-bed, he would pass within striking-distance of the dog as he +worked his slow way along the tract of earth he was supposed to be +digging up with the silly short-handled pick. + +Should he try and seize the pick and give him one on the temple with it? +No, the Brahmin would scream and struggle and the overseer would be on +Moussa Isa in a single bound. He must strike a sudden blow in the act of +passing. + +A few more journeys to the water-tap.... + +_Now!_ "_Hubshi_," eh? + +Halting beside the crouching Brahmin youth, Moussa Isa swung up the +heavy watering-can by the spout and aimed a blow with all his strength +at the side of his enemy's head. He designed to bring the sharp strong +rim of the base behind the ear with the first blow, on the temple with +the second, and just anywhere thereafter, if time permitted of a +thereafter. + +But the aggravating creature tossed his head as Moussa, with a grunt of +energy, brought the vessel down, and the rim merely struck the top of +the shaven skull. Another--harder. Another--with frenzied strength and +the force of long-suppressed rage and sense of wrong. + +And then Moussa was knocked head over heels and sat upon by the overseer +in charge of the garden-gang, while the Brahmin twitched convulsively on +the ground. He was by no means dead, however, and the sole immediate +results, to Moussa, were penal diet, solitary confinement in his +palatial cell, a severe sentence of corn-grinding with the heavy quern, +and most joyous recollections of the sound of the water-can on the pate +of the foe. + +"I have still to kill you, of course," he whispered to his victim, the +next time they met, and the Brahmin went in terror of his life. He was +a very clever young person and had passed an astounding number of +examinations in the course of his brief career. But he was not +courageous, and his "education" had given him skill in nothing +practical, except in penmanship, which skill he had devoted to forgery. + +"Why did you violently commit this dastardish deed, and assault the +harmless peaceful Brahmin?" asked the Superintendent, a worthy and +voluble babu, and then translated the question into debased Hindustani. + +"He called me _Hubshi_, and I will kill him," replied Moussa. + +"Oho! and you kill everyone who calls you _Hubshi_, do you, Master +African?" + +"I do. I wish to go to Aden Jail for attempting murder. It will be +murder if I am kept here where none knows a man from a dog." + +"Oho! And you would kill even _me_, I suppose, if I called you +_Hubshi_." + +"Of course! I will kill you in any case if I am not sent to Aden Jail." + +The babu decided that it was high time for some other institution to +shelter this touchy and truculent person, and that he would lay the case +before the next weekly Visitor and ask for it to be submitted to the +Committee at their ensuing monthly meeting. + +The Visitor of the week happened to be the Educational Inspector. "Wants +to leave India, does he?" said the Inspector, looking Moussa over as he +heard the statement of the Superintendent. "I admire his taste. India is +a magnificent country to leave." + +The Educational Inspector, a very keen, thoughtful and competent +educationist, was a disappointed man, like so many of his Service. He +felt that he had, for quarter of a century, strenuously woven ropes of +sand. When his liver was particularly sluggish he felt that for quarter +of a century he had worked industriously, not at a useless thing, but at +an evil thing--a terrible belief. + +Moreover, after quarter of a century of faithful labour and strict +economy, he found himself with a load of debt, broken health, and a +cheaply educated family of boys and girls to whom he was a complete +stranger--merely the man who found the money and sent it Home, visiting +them from time to time at intervals of four or five years. India had +killed his wife, and broken him. + +He had had what seemed to him to be bitter experience also. An +individual, notoriously slack and incompetent, ten years his junior, had +been promoted over his head, because he was somebody's cousin and the +kind of fatuous ass that only labours industriously in drawing-rooms and +at functions, recuperating by slacking idly in offices and at duties--a +paltry but paying game much practised by a very small class in India. + +Another individual, by reason of his having come to India two boats +earlier than the Inspector, drew Rs. 500 a month more than he did, this +being the Senior Inspector's Allowance. That he was reported on as lazy, +eccentric, and irregular, made no difference to the fact that he was a +fortnight senior to, and therefore worth Rs. 500 a month more than, the +next man. The recipient regarded the extra trifle (£400 a year) as his +bare right and merest due. The Inspector regarded it as an infamous +piece of injustice and folly that for fifteen years the whole of this +sum should go to a lazy fool because he happened to set sail from +England on a certain date, and not a fortnight later. So he loathed and +detested India where he had had bad luck, bad health and what he +considered bad treatment, and sympathized with the desire of Moussa Isa. + +"Why do you want to go back to Aden?" he inquired in the _lingua franca_ +of the Indian Empire, of Moussa whose heart beat high with hope. + +"Because here, where there are no lions, wolves think a lion is a dog; +here where there are no men, asses think a man is a monkey. I am a +Somal, and these ignorant camels think I am a negro--a filthy Hubshi." + +"And you tried to kill another boy because he called you 'Hubshi,' eh?" + +"I did, Sahib, and I will kill him yet if I be not sent to Aden. If that +fail I will kill myself also." + +"Stout fella," commented the Inspector in his own vernacular, and added, +musing aloud:-- + +"You'll come to the gallows through possessing pride, self-respect and +determination, my lad. You're behind the times--or rather you maintain a +spirit for which Civilization has no use. You must return to the Wilds +of the Earth or else you must be content to become good, grubby, and +grey, dull and dejected, sober and sorrowful, respectable and +unenterprising--like me; and you must cultivate fat, propriety, smugness +and the Dead Level.... What, you young Devil! You'd have self-respect +and pride, would you; be quick upon the point of honour, eh? revive the +duello, what? Get thee to a--er--less civilized and respectable age or +place ... in other words, Mr. Toshiwalla, bring the case before the +Committee of Visitors. I'll put up a note to the effect that he had +better be sent back to Aden. This is a Reformatory, and there's nothing +very reformatory about keeping him to plan murder and suicide because he +has been (quite unjustifiably) transported as well as flogged and +imprisoned. Yes, we'll consider the case. Meanwhile, keep a sharp eye on +him--and give him all the corn-grinding he can do. Sweat the Original +Sin out of him ... and see he does not secrete any kind of weapon." + +Accordingly was Moussa segregated, and to the base women's-work of +corn-grinding in the cook-house, wholly relegated. It was hard, +soul-breaking work, ignoble and degrading, but he drew two crumbs of +comfort from the bread of affliction. He was developing his arm-muscles +and he was literally watering the said bread of affliction with the +sweat of labour. As the heavy drops trickled from chin and nose into the +meal around the grindstone, it pleased Moussa Isa to reflect that his +enemy should eat of it. Since the shadow of Moussa was pollution to +these travesties of men and warriors, let them have a little concrete +pollution also. But in the cook-house, while arm and soul wearied +together, one heavy day of copper sky and brazen earth, first eye and +then foot, fell upon a piece of tin, the lid of some empty milk-tin or +like vessel. The prehensile toes gathered in the trove, the foot gently +rose and the fingers of the pendant left hand secured the disc, while +the body swayed with the strenuous circlings of the right hand chat +revolved the heavy upper millstone. + +That night, immediately after being locked in his cell, that there +might be the fullest time for bleeding to death, he slashed and slashed +while strength lasted at wrist and abdomen--but without succeeding in +penetrating the abdominal wall and reaching the viscera. + +This effected his transfer to the Reformatory hospital and underlined +the remark of the Inspector in the Visitors' Book to the effect that one +Moussa Isa would commit suicide or murder, if kept at Duri, and would +certainly not be "reformed" in any way. In hospital, Major Jackson of +the Royal Army Medical Corps, a Visitor of the Duri Jail, paying his +periodical visits, grew interested in the sturdy bright boy and soon +came to like him for his directness, cheery courage, and refreshing +views. When the boy was convalescent he took him on the surrounding Duri +golf-links as his caddie in his endless games with his poor friend +Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith, _ex_-gentleman. + +Moussa was grateful and, fingering the scar on his throat, likened Major +Jackson to his hero, the fair Sheikh who had saved him from the lion and +had lost his life through intervening on Moussa's behalf in the boat. +But _he_ was not mad like these English. He would not, with infinite +earnestness, seriousness and mingled joy at success and grief at +failure, have pursued a little white ball with a stick, mile after mile, +knocking it with infinite precautions, every now and then, into a little +hole, and taking it out again. + +No, _his_ idea of sport across country with an iron-shod stick would +rather have been lion-hunting with an assegai (yet, curiously enough, +one, Robin Ross-Ellison, lived to play more than one game of golf with +Major Jackson on these same Duri Links). To see this adult white man +behaving so, _coram publico_, made Moussa bitterly ashamed for him. + +And, as the sun set, Moussa Isa earned a sharp rebuke for inattentive +slacking, as he stood sighing his soul to where it sank in the West over +Aden and Somaliland.... Wait till his chance of escape arrived; he would +journey straight for the sunset, day after day, until he reached a +sea-shore. There he would steal a canoe and paddle and paddle straight +for the sunset, day after day, until he reached a sea-shore again. That +would be Africa or Arabia, and Moussa Isa would be where a Somal is +known from a _Hubshi_.... Should he make a bolt for it now? No, too +weak, and not fair to this kind Sahib who had healed him and sympathized +with him in the matter of the ignorance and impudence of those who +misnamed a son of the Somals.... In due course, the Committee of +Visitors met at the Reformatory one morning, and found on the agenda +paper _inter alia_ the case of Moussa Isa, a murderer from Aden, his +attempt at murder and suicide, and his prayer to be sent to Aden Jail. + +On the Committee were the Director of Public Instruction, the Collector, +the Executive Engineer, the Superintendent of Duri Jail, the Educational +Inspector, the Cantonment Magistrate, Major Jackson of the Royal Army +Medical Corps, and a number of Indian gentlemen. To the Chairman's +inquiries Moussa Isa made the usual replies. He had been mortally +affronted and had endeavoured to avenge the insult. He had tried to do +his duty to himself--and to his enemy. He had been put to base +women's-work as a punishment for defending his honour and he had tried +to take his life in despair. Was there _no_ justice in British lands? +What would the Sahib himself do if his honour were assailed? If one rose +up and insulted him and his race? Called him baboon, born of baboons, +for example? Or had the Sahib no honour? Why should he have been +transported when he was not sentenced to transportation? What had he +done but defend his honour and avenge insults? Unless he were now tried +for murder and suicide, and sentenced to hard labour in Aden Jail, he +would go on murdering until they did send him there. If they said, +"Well, you shan't go there, whatever you do," he would kill himself. If +he could get no sort of weapon he would starve himself (he did not in +his ignorance quote the gentle and joyous Pankhurst family) or hold his +breath. So they had better send him, and that was all he had got to say +about it. + +"Send him for trial before the City Magistrate and recommend that he go +to Aden Jail at once, before he hurts somebody else," said the native +members of the Committee. "Why should we be troubled with the +off-scourings of Aden?" + +"Certainly not," opined the Collector of Duri. A pretty state of affairs +if every criminal were to be allowed to select his own place of +punishment, and to terrorize any penitentiary that had the misfortune to +lack favour in his sight. Let the boy be well flogged for the assault +and attempted suicide, and then let him rejoin the ordinary gangs and +classes. It was the Superintendent's duty to watch his charges and keep +discipline in what was, after all, a school. + +"Sir, he is one violent and dangerous character and will assault the +peaceful and mild. Yea--he may even attack _me_," objected the babu. + +"Are we to understand that you admit your inability to maintain order in +this Reformatory?" inquired the Director of Public Instruction from the +Chair. + +Anything but that. They were to understand, on the contrary, that the +babu was respectfully a most unprecedented disciplinarian. + +"You don't expect cock angels in a Reformatory, y' know," said the +engineer, suddenly awaking to light a fat black cheroot. "Got to use +the--ah--strong hand;--on their--ah--_you_ know," and he resumed his +slumbers, puffing mechanically and unconsciously at his cheroot. + +So Moussa Isa was flogged and sent back to gardening, lessons and +drawing. + +Yes--the Somali was taught drawing. Not mere utilitarian drawing-to-scale +and making plans and elevations, but "freehand"-drawing, the reproducing +of meaningless twirly curves and twiddly twists from symmetrical +conventional "copies". He copied copies and drew lines--but never copied +things, nor drew things. In time he could, with infinite labour, produce +a copy of a flat "copy" that a really observant eye could identify with +the original, but had you asked him to draw his foot or the door of the +room, his desk, his watering-can or book, he would probably have +replied, "_They_ are not drawing-copies," and would have laughed at your +absurd joke. No, he was not taught to draw _things_, nor to give +expression to impression. + +And he had a special warder all to himself, who watched him as a cat +watches a mouse. However, warders cannot prevent looks and smiles, and +whenever Moussa Isa saw the Brahmin youth, he gave a peculiar look and a +meaning smile. It was borne in upon the clever young man that the Hubshi +looked at his neck, below his ear, when he smiled that dreadful smile. + +Sometimes a significant gesture accompanied the meaning smile. For +Moussa Isa had decided, upon the rejection of his prayer by the +Committee, to wait until he was a little older and bigger, more like a +proper criminal and less of a wretched little "juvenile offender," and +then to qualify, by murder, for the Aden Jail--with the unoffered help +of the Brahmin boy. + +Allah would vouchsafe opportunity, and when he did so, Moussa Isa, his +servant, would seize it. Doubtless it would come as soon as he was big +enough to receive the privileges of an adult and serious criminal. +Anyhow, the insult would be properly punished and the honour of the +Somal race avenged.... + +Came the day when certain of the sinful inhabitants of the Duri +Reformatory were to be conducted to a neighbouring Government High +School, a centre for the official Drawing Examinations for the district, +there to sit and be examined in the gentle art of Art. + +To this end they had been trained in the copying of lines and in the +painting of areas of conventional shape, not that they might be made to +observe natural form, express themselves in reproduction, render the +inner outer, originate, articulate ... but that they might pass an +examination in copying unnatural things in impossible colours. Thus it +came to pass that, in the big hall of this school, divers of the +Reformed found themselves copying, and colouring the copy of, a curious +picture pinned to a blackboard--the picture of a floral wonder unknown +to Botany, possessed of delicate mauve leaves, blue-veined, shaped some +like the oak-leaf and some like the ivy; of long slender blades like +those of the iris, but of tenderest pink; of beautiful and profusely +chromatic blossoms, reminding one now of the orchid, now of the +sunflower and anon of the forget-me-not; and likewise of clustering +fulgent fruit. + +And at the back of all these budding artists and blossoming jail-birds, +and in the same small desk sat the Brahmin youth and--Oh Merciful +Allah!--Moussa Isa, Somali. + +The native gentleman in charge of the party from the Duri Reformatory +had duly escorted his charges into the hall, handed them over to Mr. +Edward Jones, the Head of the High School, and been requested to wait +outside with similar custodians of parties. (Mr. Edward Jones had known +very strange things to happen in Examination Halls to which the friends +and supporters of candidates had access during the examination.) + +To Mr. Edward Jones the thus deserted Brahmin boy made frantic and +piteous appeal. + +"Oh, Sir," prayed he, "let me sit somewhere else and not beside this +African." + +"You'll stay where you are," replied Mr. Edward Jones, suspicious of the +appeal and the appellant. If the fat glib youth objected to the African +on principle, Mr. Edward Jones would be glad, metaphorically speaking, +to rub his Brahminical nose in it. If this were not his reason, it was, +doubtless, one even less creditable. Mr. Edward Jones had been in India +long enough to learn to look very carefully for the motive. + +Moussa Isa licked his chops once again, and, as Mr. Jones turned away, +the unhappy Brahmin cried in his anguish of soul:-- + +"Oh, Sir! Watch this African carefully." + +"All will be watched carefully," was the suspicious and cold reply. + +Moussa smiled broadly upon his erstwhile contemptuous and insulting +enemy, and began to consider the possibilities of a long and +well-pointed lead-pencil as a means of vengeance. Pencils were intended +for marking fair surfaces--might one not be used on this occasion for +the cleaning of a sullied surface, that of a besmirched honour? + +One insulter of the Somal race had died by the stab of a piece of broken +bottle. Might not another die by the stab of a lead-pencil? + +Doubtful. Very risky. The stabbing and piercing potentialities of a lead +pencil are not yet properly investigated, tabulated, established and +known. It would be a pity to do small damage and incur a heavy +corn-grinding punishment. He might never get another chance of +vengeance either, if he bungled this one. + +Well, there were three hours in which to decide ... and Moussa Isa +commenced to draw, pausing, from time to time, to smile meaningly at the +Brahmin, and to lick his chops suggestively. Anon he rested from his +highly uninteresting and valueless labours, laid his pencil on the desk, +and gazed around in search of inspiration in the matter of the best +method of dealing with his enemy. + +His eye fell upon a picture of a lion that ornamented the wall of the +hall; he stiffened like a pointer and fingered some scars on his right +arm. He had never seen a picture of a lion before and, for a fraction of +a second, he was shocked and alarmed--and then, while his body sat in an +Indian High School hall, his spirit flew to an East African desert, and +there sojourned awhile. + +Moussa Isa was again the slave of an ivory-poaching, hide-poaching, +specimen-poaching, slave-dealing gang of Arabs, Negroes, and Portuguese +half-castes, led by a white man of the Teutonic persuasion. He could +feel the smiting heat, see the scrub, jungle, and sand shimmering and +dancing in the heat haze. He could see the line of porters, bales on +heads, the Arabs on horseback, the white man in a litter swinging from a +long bamboo pole beneath which half a dozen Swahili loped along. He +could see the velvet star-gemmed night and the camp-fires, smell the +smoke and the savoury odours of the cooking, hear the sudden shrieks and +yells that followed the roar of the springing lion, feel the crushing +crunch of its great teeth in his arm as it seized him from beside the +nearest fire and stood over him.... Yes, that was the night when the +fair Sheikh from the North had showed the mettle of his pastures and +bound Moussa Isa to him for ever in the bonds of worshipping gratitude +and love. For, while others shrieked, yelled, fled, flung burning brands +and spears, or fired hasty, unaimed, ineffectual shots, the fair Sheikh +from the North had sprung at the lion as it stood over Moussa Isa and +driven his knife into its eye, and as it smote him to the earth, buried +its fangs in his shoulder and started to drag him away, had stabbed +upward between the ribs, giving it a second death-blow, transfixing its +heart. Thus it was he had earned the name by which he was known from +Zanzibar to Berbera, "He-who-slays-lions-with-the-knife," had earned the +envy and hatred of the fat white man and the Arabs, the boundless +admiration of the Swahili askaris, hunters and porters, and the deep +dog-like affection of Moussa Isa.... + +And then Moussa's spirit returned to his body and he saw but the picture +of a lion on a High School wall. He commenced to draw again and suddenly +had an inspiration. Deliberately he broke the point of his pencil and, +rising, marched up to the dais, whereon, at a table, sat Mr. Edward +Jones. + +Mr. Edward Jones had been shot with bewildering suddenness from +Cambridge quadrangles into the Indian Educational Service. Of India he +knew nothing, of education he knew less, but boldly took it upon him to +combine the two unknowns for the earning of his living. If wise and +beneficent men offered him a modest wage for becoming a professor and +exponent of that which he did not know, he had no objection to accepting +it; but there were people who wondered why it should be that, out of +forty million English people, Mr. Edward Jones should be the chosen one +to represent England to the youth of Duri, and asked whether there were +no keen, strictly conscientious, sporting, strong Englishmen available; +no enthusiastic educational experts left in all the British Isles, that +Mr. Edward Jones of all people had come to Duri? + +"What do you want?" he asked (how he hated these poverty-stricken, +smelly, ignoble creatures. Why was he not a master at Eton, instead of +at Duri High School. Why wouldn't somebody give him a handsome income +for looking handsome and standing around beautifully--like these +aide-de-camp Johnnies and "staff" people. Since there was nothing on +earth he could do well, he ought to have been provided with a job in +which he could look well). + +"May I borrow the Sahib's knife?" asked Moussa Isa, "I have broken my +pencil and cannot draw." Mr. Edward Jones picked up the penknife that +lay on his desk, the cheap article of restricted utility supplied to +Government Offices by the Stationery Department, and handed it to Moussa +Isa. Even as he took it with respectful salaam, Moussa Isa summed up its +possibilities. Blade two inches long, sharp-pointed, handle six inches +long, wooden; not a clasp knife, blade immovable in handle. It would +do--and he turned to go to his seat and presumably to sharpen his +pencil. + +Idly watching the boy and thinking of other things, Jones saw him try +the point of the knife on his thumb, walk up behind the other occupant +of his desk, his Brahmin neighbour, seize that neighbour by the hair, +push his head sharp over on to the shoulder, and plunge the knife into +his neck; seat himself, and commence to draw with the unfortunate +Brahmin's pencil. + +Jones sprang to his feet and rushed to the spot, to find that he had not +been dreaming. No--on the back seat drooped a boy bleeding like a stuck +pig and another industriously drawing, his face illuminated by a smile +of contentment. + +Jones pressed his thumbs into the neck of the sufferer, as he called to +an assistant-supervisor to run to the hospital for Dr. Almeida, hoping +to be able to close the severed jugular from which welled an appalling +stream of blood. + +"It is quite useless, Sahib," observed Moussa, "nor can a doctor help. +When one has got it _there_, he may give his spear to his son and turn +his face to the wall. That dog will never say '_Hubshi_' to a Somal +again." + +"Catch hold of that boy," said Mr. Edward Jones to another +assistant-supervisor who clucked around like a perturbed hen. + +"Fear not, Sahib, I shall not escape. I go to Aden Jail," said Moussa +cheerfully--but he pondered the advisability of attempting escape from +the Reformatory should he be sentenced to be hanged. It had always +seemed an impossibility, but it would be better to attempt the +impossible than to await the rope. But doubtless they would say he was +too small and light to hang satisfactorily, and would send him to Aden. +Thanks, Master Brahmin, realize as you die that you have greatly obliged +your slayer.... + + * * * * * + +"Now you will most certainly be hanged to death by rope and I shall be +rid of troublesome fellow," said the Superintendent to Moussa Isa when +that murderous villain was temporarily handed over to him by the +police-sepoy to whom he had been committed by Mr. Jones. + +"I have avenged my people and myself," replied Moussa Isa, "even as I +said, I go to Aden Jail--where there are _men_, and where a Somal is +known from a Hubshi" + +"You go to hang--across the road there at Duri Gaol," replied the babu, +and earnestly hoped to find himself a true prophet. But though the wish +was father to the thought, the expression thereof was but the wicked +uncle, for it led to the undoing of the wish. So convinced and +convincing did the babu appear to Moussa Isa, that the latter decided to +try his luck in the matter of unauthorized departure from the +Reformatory precincts. If they were going to hang him (for defending and +purging his private and racial honour), and not send him to Aden after +all, he might as well endeavour to go there at his own expense and +independently. If he were caught they could not do more than hang him; +if he were not caught he would get out of this dark ignorant land, if he +had to walk for a year.... + +When he came to devote his mind to the matter of escape, Moussa Isa +found it surprisingly easy. A sudden dash from his cell as the door was +incautiously opened that evening, a bound and scramble into a tree, a +leap to an out-house roof, another scramble, and a drop which would +settle the matter. If something broke he was done, if nothing broke he +was within a few yards of six-foot-high crops which extended to the +confines of the jungle, wherein were neither police, telegraph offices, +railways, roads, nor other apparatus of the enemy. Nothing broke--Duri +Reformatory saw Moussa Isa no more. For a week he travelled only by +night, and thereafter boldly by day, getting lifts in _bylegharies_,[45] +doing odd jobs, living as the crows and jackals live when jobs were +unavailable, receiving many a kindness from other wayfarers, especially +those of the poorer sort, but always faring onward to the West, ever +onward to the setting sun, always to the sea and Africa, until the +wonderful and blessed day when he believed for a moment that he was mad +and that his eyes and brain were playing him tricks.... After months and +months of weary travel, always toward the setting sun, he had arrived +one terrible evening of June at a wide river and a marvellous bridge--a +great bridge hung by mighty chains upon mightier posts which stood up on +either distant bank. It was a _pukka_ road, a Grand Trunk Road suspended +in the air across a river well-nigh great as Father Nile himself. + + [45] Bullock carts. + +On the banks of this river stood an ancient walled city of tall houses +separated by narrow streets, a city of smells and filth, wherein there +were no Sahibs, few Hindus and many Mussulmans. In a mud-floored +miserable _mussafarkhana_,[46] without its gates, Moussa Isa slept, +naked, hungry and very sad--for he somehow seemed to have missed the +sea. Surely if one kept on due westward always to the setting sun, one +reached the sea in time? The time was growing long, however, and he was +among a strange people, few of whom understood the Hindustani he had +learnt at Duri. Luckily they were largely Mussulmans. Should he abandon +the setting sun and take to the river, following it until it reached the +sea? He could take ship then for Africa by creeping aboard in the +darkness, and hiding himself until the ship had started.... There might +be no city at the mouth of the river when he got there. It might never +reach the sea. It might just vanish into some desert like the +Webi-Shebeyli in Somaliland. No, he would keep on toward the West, +crossing the great bridge in the morning. He did so, and turned aside +to admire the railway-station of the Cantonment on the other side of the +river, to get a drink, and to see a train come in, if happily such might +occur. + + [46] Poor travellers' rest-house. + +Ere he had finished rinsing his mouth and bathing his feet at the public +water-standard on the platform, the whistle of a distant train charmed +his ears and he sat him down, delighted, to enjoy the sights and sounds, +the stir and bustle, of its arrival and departure. And so it came about +that certain passengers by this North West Frontier train were not a +little intrigued to notice a small and very black boy suddenly arise +from beside the drinking-fountain and, with a strange hoarse scream, +fling himself at the feet of a young Englishman (who in Norfolk jacket +and white flannel trousers strolled up and down outside the first-class +carriage in which he was travelling to Kot Ghazi from Karachi), and with +every sign of the wildest excitement and joy embrace and kiss his +boots.... + +Moussa Isa was convinced that he had gone mad and that his eyes and +brain were playing him tricks. + +Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison (also Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan when in other dress and other places) was likewise more than +a little surprised--and certainly a little moved, at the sight of Moussa +Isa and his wild demonstrations of uncontrollable joy. + +"Well, I'm damned!" said he in the _rôle_ of Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison. "Rum little devil. Fancy your turning up here." And in the +_rôle_ of Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan added in +debased Arabic: "Take this money, little dog, and buy thee a _tikkut_ +to Kot Ghazi. Get into this train, and at Kot Ghazi follow me to a +house." + +To the house Moussa Isa followed him and to the end of his life +likewise, visiting _en route_ Mekran Kot, among other places, and +encountering one, Ilderim the Weeper, among other people (as was told to +Major Michael Malet-Marsac by Ross-Ellison's half-brother, the +Subedar-Major.) + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE WOMAN. + +(And Augustus Grabble; General Murger; Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith; +Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr. Horace Faggit; as well as a +reformed JOHN ROBIN ROSS-ELLISON.) + + + +§ 1. MR. GROBBLE. + + +There was something very maidenly about the appearance of Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble. One could not imagine him doing +anything unfashionable, perspiry, rough or rude; nor could one possibly +imagine him doing anything ruthless, fine, terrible, strong or +difficult. + +One expected his hose to be of the same tint as his shirt and +handkerchief, his dress-trousers to be braided, his tie to be delicate +and beautiful, his dainty shoes to be laced with black silk ribbon,--but +one would never expect him to go tiger-shooting, to ride a gay and giddy +young horse, to box, or to do his own cooking and washing in the desert +or jungle. + +Augustus had been at College during that bright brief period of the +attempted apotheosis of the dirty-minded little Decadent whose stock in +trade was a few Aubrey Beardsley drawings, a widow's-cruse-like bottle +of Green Chartreuse, an Oscar Wilde book, some dubious blue china, some +floppy ties, an assortment of second-hand epigrams, scent and scented +tobacco, a _nil admirari_ attitude and long weird hair. + +Augustus had become a Decadent--a silly harmless +conventionally-unconventional Decadent. But, as Carey, a contemporary +Rugger blood, coarsely remarked, he hadn't the innards to go far wrong. + +It was part of his cheap and childish ritual as a Decadent to draw the +curtains after breakfast, light candles, place the flask of Green +Chartreuse and a liqueur-glass on the table, drop one drip of the liquid +into the glass, burn a stinking pastille of incense, place a Birmingham +"god" or an opening lily before him, ruffle his hair, and sprawl on the +sofa with a wicked French novel he could not read--hoping for visitors +and an audience. + +If any fellow dropped in and, very naturally, exclaimed, "What the devil +_are_ you doing?" he would reply:-- + +"Wha'? Oh, sunligh'? Very vulgar thing sunligh'. Art is always superior +to Nature. You love the garish day being a gross Philistine, wha'? Now I +only live at night. Glorious wicked nigh'. So I make my own nigh'. Wha'? +Have some Green Chartreuse--only drink fit for a Hedonist. I drink its +colour and I taste its glorious greenness. Ichor and Nectar of Helicon +and the Pierian Spring. I loved a Wooman once, with eyes of just that +glowing glorious green and a soul of ruby red. I called her my +Emerald-eyed, Ruby-souled Devil, and we drank together deep draughts of +the red red Wine of Life----" + +Sometimes the visitor would say: "Look here, Grobb, you ought to be in +the Zoo, you know. There's a lot there like you, all in one big cage," +or similar words of disapproval. + +Sometimes a young fresher would be impressed, especially if he had been +brought up by Aunts in a Vicarage, and would also become a Decadent. + +During vac. the Decadents would sometimes meet in Town, and See Life--a +singularly uninteresting and unattractive side of Life (much more like +Death), and the better men among them--better because of a little +sincerity and pluck--would achieve a petty and rather sordid "adventure" +perhaps. + +Augustus had no head for Mathematics and no gift for Languages, while +his Classics had always been a trifle more than shaky. History bored +him--so he read Moral Philosophy. + +There is a somewhat dull market for second-hand and third-class Moral +Philosophy in England, so Augustus took his to India. In the first +college that he adorned his classes rapidly dwindled to nothing, and the +College Board dispensed with the services of Augustus, who passed on to +another College in another Province, leaving behind him an odour of +moral dirtiness, debt, and decadence. Quite genuine decadence this time, +with nothing picturesque about it, involving doctors' bills, alimony, +and other the fine crops of wild-oat sowing. + +At Gungapur he determined to "settle down," to "turn over a new leaf," +and laid a good space of paving-stone upon his road to reward. + +He gave up the morning nip, docked the number of cocktails, went to bed +before two, took a little gentle exercise, met Mrs. Pat Dearman--and +(like Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison, General Miltiades Murger and many another) +succumbed at once. + +Mrs. Pat Dearman had come to India (as Miss Cleopatra Diamond Brighte) +to see her brother, Dickie Honor Brighte, at Gungapur, and much +interested to see, also, a Mr. Dearman whom, in his letters to her, +Dickie had described as "a jolly old buster, simply full of money, and +fairly spoiling for a wife to help him blew it in." She had not only +seen him but had, as she wrote to acidulous Auntie Priscilla at the +Vicarage, "actually married him after a week's acquaintance--fancy!--the +last thing in the world she had ever supposed ... etc." (Auntie +Priscilla had smiled in her peculiarly unpleasant way as the artless +letter enlarged upon the strangeness of her ingenuous niece's marrying +the rich man about whom her innocent-minded brother had written so +much.) + +Having thoroughly enjoyed a most expensive and lavish honeymoon, Mrs. +Pat Dearman had settled down to make her good husband happy, to have a +good time and to do any amount of Good to other people--especially to +young men--who have so many temptations, are so thoughtless, and who +easily become the prey of such dreadful people and such dreadful habits. + +Now it is to be borne in mind that Mrs. Dearman's Good Time was marred +to some extent by her unreasoning dislike of all Indians, a dislike +which grew into a loathing hatred, born and bred of her ignorance of the +language, customs, beliefs and ideals of the people among whom she +lived, and from whom her husband's great wealth sprang. + +To Augustus--fresh from very gilded gold, painted lilies and highly +perfumed violets--she seemed a vision of delight, a blessed damozel, a +living Salvation. + +_"Incedit dea aperta,"_ he murmured to himself, and wondered whether he +had got the quotation right. Being a weak young gentleman, he +straightway yearned to lead a Beautiful Life so as to be worthy to live +in the same world with her, and did it--for a little while. He became a +teetotaller, he went to bed at ten and rose at five--going forth into +the innocent pure morning and hugging his new Goodness to his soul as he +composed odes and sonnets to Mrs. Pat Dearman. So far so excellent--but +in Augustus was no depth of earth, and speedily he withered away. And +his reformation was a house built upon sand, for, even at its pinnacle, +it was compatible with the practising of sweet and pure expressions +before the glass, the giving of much time to the discovery of the really +most successful location of the parting in his long hair, the +intentional entangling of his fingers with those of the plump and pretty +young lady (very brunette) in Rightaway & Mademore's, what time she +handed him "ties to match his eyes," as he requested. + +It was really only a change of pose. The attitude now was: "I, young as +you behold me, am old and weary of sin. I have Passed through the Fires. +Give me beauty and give me peace. I have done with the World and its +Dead Sea Fruit. There is no God but Beauty, and Woman is its Prophet." +And he improved in appearance, grew thinner, shook off a veritable Old +Man of the Sea in the shape of a persistent pimple which went ill with +the Higher Aestheticism, and achieved great things in delicate socks, +sweet shirts, dream ties, a thumb ring and really pretty shoes. + +In the presence of Mrs. Pat Dearman he looked sad, smouldering, +despairing and Fighting-against-his-Lower-Self, when not looking +Young-but-Hopelessly-Depraved-though-Yearning-for-Better-Things. And he +flung out quick epigrams, sighed heavily, talked brilliantly and wildly, +and then suppressed a groan. Sometimes the pose of, "Dear Lady, I could +kiss the hem of your garment for taking an interest in me and my +past--but it is too lurid for me to speak of it, or for you to +understand it if I did," would appear for a moment, and sometimes that +of, "Oh, help me--or my soul must drown. Ah, leave me not. If I have +sinned I have suffered, and in your hands lie my Heaven and my Hell." +Such shocking words were never uttered of course--but there are few +things more real than an atmosphere, and Augustus Clarence could always +get his atmosphere all right. + +And Mrs. Pat Dearman (who had come almost straight from a vicarage, a +vicar papa and a vicarish aunt, to an elderly, uxorious husband and +untrammelled freedom, and knew as much of the World as a little bunny +rabbit whom its mother has not brought yet out into the warren for its +first season), was mightily intrigued. + +She felt motherly to the poor boy at first, being only two years his +junior; then sisterly; and, later, very friendly indeed. + +Let it be clearly understood that Mrs. Pat Dearman was a thoroughly +good, pure-minded woman, incapable of deceiving her husband, and both +innocent and ignorant to a remarkable degree. She was the product of an +unnatural, specialized atmosphere of moral supermanity, the secluded +life, and the careful suppression of healthy, natural instincts. In +justice to Augustus Clarence also it must be stated that the impulse to +decency, though transient, was genuine as far as it went, and that he +would as soon have thought of cutting his long beautiful hair as of +thinking evil in connection with Mrs. Pat Dearman. + +Yes, Mrs. Pat Dearman was mightily intrigued--and quickly came to the +conclusion that it was her plain and bounden duty to "save" the poor, +dear boy--though from _what_ she was not quite clear. He was evidently +unhappy and obviously striving-to-be-Good--and he had such beautiful +eyes, dressed so tastefully, and looked at one with such a respectful +devotion and regard, that, really--well, it added a tremendous savour to +life. Also he should be protected from the horrid flirting Mrs. Bickker +who simply lived to collect scalps. + +And so the friendship grew and ripened--quickly as is possible only in +India. The evil-minded talked evil and saw harm where none existed, +proclaiming themselves for what they were, and injuring none but +themselves. (Sad to say, these were women, with one or two exceptions in +favour of men--like the Hatter--who perhaps might be called "old women +of the male sex," save that the expression is a vile libel upon the sex +that still contains the best of us.) Decent people expressed the belief +that it would do Augustus a lot of good--much-needed good; and the +crystallized male opinion was that the poisonous little beast was +uncommon lucky, but Mrs. Pat Dearman would find him out sooner or later. + +As for Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman, that lovable simple soul was grateful +to Augustus for existing--as long as his existence gave Mrs. Dearman any +pleasure. If the redemption of Augustus interested her, let Augustus be +redeemed. He believed that the world neither held, nor had held, his +wife's equal in character and nobility of mind. He worshipped an image +of his own creation in the shape of Cleopatra Dearman, and the image he +had conceived was a credit to the single-minded, simple-hearted +gentleman. + +Naturally he did not admire Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble +(learned in millinery; competent, as modes varied, to discuss harem, +hobble, pannier, directoire, slit, or lamp-shade skirts, berthes, +butterfly-_motif_ embroideries, rucked ninon sleeves, chiffon tunics, +and similar mysteries of the latest fashion-plates, with a lady +undecided). + +Long-haired men put Dearman off, and he could not connect the virile +virtues with large bows, velvet coats, scent, manicure, mannerisms and +meandering. + +But if Augustus gave his wife any pleasure--why Augustus had not lived +wholly in vain. His attitude to Augustus was much that of his attitude +to his wife's chocolates, fondants, and crystallized violets--"Not +absolutely nourishing and beneficial for you, Dearest;--but harmless, +and I'll bring you a ton with pleasure". + +Personally he'd as soon go about with his wife's fat French poodle as +with Augustus, but so long as either amused her--let the queer things +flourish. + +Among the nasty-minded old women who "talked" was the Mad Hatter. + +"Shameful thing the way that Dearman woman throws dust in her husband's +eyes!" said he, while sipping his third Elsie May at the club bar. "He +should divorce her. I would, to-morrow, if I were burdened with her." + +A knee took him in the small of the back with unnecessary violence and +he spun round to demand instant apology from the clumsy.... + +He found himself face to face with one John Robin Ross-Ellison newly +come to Gungapur, a gentleman of independent means but supposed to be +connected with the Political Department or the Secret Service or +something, who stared him in the eyes without speaking while he poised a +long drink as though wondering whether it were worth while wasting good +liquor on the face of such a thing as the Hatter. + +"You'll come with me and clear the dust from Dearman's eyes at once," +said he at last. "Made your will all right?" + +The Hatter publicly apologised, then and there, and explained that he +had, for once in his life, taken a third drink and didn't know what he +was saying. + +"If your third drink brings out the real man, I should recommend you to +stick to two, Bonnett," said the young man, and went away to cogitate. + +Should he speak to Dearman? No. He didn't want to see so good a chap +hanged for a thing like the Bonnett. Should he go and slap Augustus +Grobble hard and make him leave the station somehow? No. Sure to be a +scandal. You can no more stop a scandal than a locust-cloud or a fog. +The best way to increase it is to notice it. What a horrid thing is a +scandal-monger--exhaling poison. It publishes the fact that it is +poisonous, of course--but the gas is not enjoyable. + +Well, God help anybody Dearman might happen to hear on the subject! +Happily Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman heard nothing, for he was a quiet, +slow, jolly, red-haired man, and the wrath of a slow, quiet, red-haired +man, once roused, is apt to be a rather dangerous thing. Also Mr. +Dearman was singularly elephantine in the blundering crushing directness +of his methods, and his idea of enough might well seem more than a feast +to some. + +And Mr. Dearman suffered Augustus gladly, usually finding him present at +tea, frequently at dinner, and invariably in attendance at dances and +functions. + +Augustus was happy and Good--for Augustus. He dallied, he adored, he +basked. For a time he felt how much better, finer, more enjoyable, more +beautiful, was this life of innocent communion with a pure soul--pure, +if just a little insipid, after the real spankers he had hitherto +affected. + +He was being saved from himself, reformed, helped, and all the rest of +it. And when privileged to bring her pen, her fan, her book, her +cushion, he always kissed the object with an appearance of wishing to be +unseen in the act. It was a splendid change from the Lurid Life and the +mean adventure. Piquant. + +Unstable as water he could not excel nor endure, however, even in +dalliance; nor persevere even when adopted as the _fidus Achates_ of a +good and beautiful woman--the poor little weather-cock. He was +essentially weak, and weakness is worse than wickedness. There is hope +for the strong bad man. He may become a strong good one. Your weak man +can never be that. + +There came a lady to the Great Eastern Hotel where Augustus lived. Her +husband's name, curiously enough, was Harris, and wags referred to him +as _the_ Mr. Harris, because he had never been seen--and like Betsey +Prig, they "didn't believe there was no sich person". And beyond doubt +she was a spanker. + +Augustus would sit and eye her at meals--and his face would grow a +little less attractive. He would think of her while he took tea with +Mrs. and Mr. Dearman, assuring himself that she was certainly a stepper, +a stunner, and, very probably,--thrilling thought--a wrong 'un. + +Without the very slightest difficulty he obtained an introduction and, +shortly afterwards, decided that he was a man of the world, a Decadent, +a wise Hedonist who took the sweets of every day and hoped for more +to-morrow. + +Who but a fool or a silly greenhorn lets slip the chances of enjoyment, +and loses opportunities of experiences? There was nothing in the world, +they said, to compare with War and Love. Those who wanted it were +welcome to the fighting part, he would be content with the loving rôle. +He would be a Dog and go on breaking hearts and collecting trophies. +What a milk-and-water young ass he had been, hanging about round good, +silly, little Mrs. Dearman, denying himself champagne at dinner-parties, +earning opprobrium as a teetotaller, going to bed early like a +bread-and-butter flapper, and generally losing all the joys of Life! +Been behaving like a _backfisch_. He read his Swinburne again, and +unearthed from the bottom of a trunk some books that dealt with the +decadent's joys,--poets of the Flesh, and prosers of the Devil, in his +many weary forms. + +Also he redoubled his protestations (of undying, hopeless, respectful +devotion and regard) to Mrs. Dearman, until she, being a woman, +therefore suspected something and became uneasy. + +One afternoon he failed to put in an appearance at tea-time, though +expected. He wrote that he had had a headache. Perhaps it was true, but, +if so, it had been borne in the boudoir of the fair spanker whose +husband may or may not have been named Harris. + +As his absences from the society of Mrs. Dearman increased in frequency, +his protestations of undying gratitude and regard for her increased in +fervour. + +Mrs. Dearman grew more uneasy and a little unhappy. + +Could she be losing her influence for Good over the poor weak boy? Could +it be--horrible thought--that he was falling into the hands of some +nasty woman who would flirt with him, let him smoke too many cigarettes, +drink cocktails, and sit up late? Was he going to relapse and slip back +into that state of wickedness of some kind, that she vaguely understood +him to have been guilty of in the unhappy past when he had possessed no +guardian angel to keep his life pure, happy and sweet, as he now +declared it to be? + +"Where's your young friend got to lately?" inquired her husband one day. + +"I don't know, John," she replied, "he's always missing appointments +nowadays," and there was a pathetic droop about the childish mouth. + +"Haven't quarrelled with him, or anything, have you, Pat?" + +"No, John dear. It would break his heart if I were unkind to him--or it +would have used to. I mean it used to have would. Oh, you know what I +mean. Once it would have. No, I have not been unkind to him--it's rather +the other way about, I think!" + +_Rather the other way about_! The little affected pimp unkind to Mrs. +Dearman! Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman made no remark--aloud. + +Augustus came to tea next day and his hostess made much of him. His host +eyed him queerly. Very. + +Augustus felt uncomfortable. Good Heavens! Was Dearman jealous? The man +was not going to cut up jealous at this time of day, surely! Not after +giving him the run of the house for months, and allowing him to take his +wife everywhere--nay, encouraging him in every way. Absurd idea! + +Beastly disturbing idea though--Dearman jealous, and on your track! A +rather direct and uncompromising person, red-haired too. But the man was +absolutely fair and just, and he'd never do such a thing as to let a +fellow be his wife's great pal, treat him as one of the family for ages, +and then suddenly round on him as though he were up to something. No. +Especially when he was, if anything, cooling off a bit. + +"He was always most cordial--such a kind chap,--when I was living in his +wife's pocket almost," reflected Augustus, "and he wouldn't go and turn +jealous just when the thing was slacking off a bit." + +But there was no doubt that Dearman was eyeing him queerly.... + +"Shall we go on the river to-morrow night, Gussie?" said Mrs. Dearman, +"or have a round of golf, or what?" + +"Let's see how we feel to-morrow," replied Augustus, who had other +schemes in view. "Sufficient unto the day is the joy thereof," and he +escorted Mrs. Dearman to the Gymkhana, found her some nice, ladies' +pictorials, said, "I'll be back in a minute or two,"--and went in search +of Mrs. "Harris". + +"Well," said that lady, "been a good little boy and eaten your bread and +butter nicely? Have a Lyddite cocktail to take the taste away. So will +I." ... + +"Don't forget to book the big punt," said the Siren an hour or so later. +"I'll be ready for you about five." + +Augustus wrote one of his charming little notes on his charming little +note-paper that evening. + +"KIND AND GRACIOUS LADYE, + +"Pity me. Pity and love me. To-morrow the sun will not shine for your +slave, for he will not see it. I am unable to come over in the evening. +I stand 'twixt love and duty, and know you would counsel duty. Would the +College and all its works were beneath the ocean wave! Think of me just +once and I shall survive till the day after. Oh, that I could think your +disappointment were but one thousandth part of mine. I live but for +Thursday. + +"Ever your most devoted loving slave, + +"GUSSIE." + +Mrs. Dearman wept one small tear, for she had doubted his manner when he +had evaded making the appointment, and was suspicious. Mr. Dearman +entered and noted the one small tear ere it trickled off her dainty +little nose. + +She showed him the note. + +Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman thought much. What he said was "Hm!" + +"I suppose he has got to invigilate at some horrid examination or +something," she said, but she did not really suppose anything of the +kind. Even to her husband she could not admit the growing dreadful fear +that the brand she had plucked from the burning was slipping from her +hand--falling back into the flames. + +At a dinner-party that night a woman whom she hated, and wrote down an +evil-minded scandal-monger and inventor and disseminator of lies, +suddenly said to her, "Who _is_ this Mrs. Harris, my dear?" + +"How should I know?" replied Mrs. Dearman. + +"Oh, I thought your young friend Mr. Grobble might have told you--he +seems to know her very well," answered the woman sweetly. + +That night Mr. Dearman heard his wife sobbing in bed. Going to her he +asked what was the matter, and produced eau-de-Cologne, phenacetin, +smelling-salts and sympathy. + +She said that nothing at all was the matter and he went away and +pondered. Next day he asked her if he could row her on the river as he +wanted some exercise, and Augustus was not available to take her for a +drive or anything. + +"I should love it, John dear," she said. "You row like an ox," and John, +who had been reckoned an uncommon useful stroke, felt that a compliment +was intended if not quite materialized. + +Mrs. Pat Dearman enjoyed the upstream trip, and, watching her husband +drive the heavy boat against wind and current with graceful ease, +contrasted him with the puny, if charming, Augustus--to the latter's +detriment. He was so safe, so sound, so strong, reliable and true. But +then he never needed any protection, care and help. It was impossible to +"mother" John. He loved her devotedly and beautifully but one couldn't +pretend he leaned on her for moral help. Now Augustus did need her or he +had done so--and she did so love to be needed. _Had_ done so? No--she +would put the thought away. He needed her as much as ever and loved her +as devotedly and honourably.... The boat was turned back at the weir +and, half an hour later, reached the Club wharf. + +"I want to go straight home without changing, Pat; do you mind? I'll +drop you at the Gymkhana if you don't want to get home so early," said +Dearman, as he helped his wife out. + +"Won't you change and have a drink first, John?" she replied. "You must +be thirsty." + +"No. I want to go along now, if you don't mind." + +He did want to--badly. For, rowing up, he had seen something which his +wife, facing the other way, could not see. + +Under an over-hanging bush was a punt, and in the punt were Augustus and +the lady known as Mrs. Harris. + +The bush met the bank at the side toward his wife, but at the other +side, facing Dearman, there was an open space and so he had seen and she +had not. Returning, he had drawn her attention to something on the +opposite bank. This had been unnecessary, however, as Augustus had +effected a change of venue without delay. And now he did not want his +wife to witness the return of the couple and learn of the duplicity of +her snatched Brand. + +(He'd "brand" him anon!) + + * * * * * + +Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble sat in the long cane chair in +his sitting-room, a glass beside him, a cigarette between his lips, a +fleshly poet in his hand, and a reminiscent smile upon his flushed face. + +She undoubtedly was a spanker. Knew precisely how many beans make five. +A woman of the world, that. Been about. Knew things. Sort of woman one +could tell a good story to--and get one back. Life! Life! Knew it up and +down, in and out. Damn reformation, teetotality, the earnest, and the +strenuous. Good women were unmitigated bores, and he.... A sharp knock +at the door. + +"_Kon hai_?"[47] he called. "_Under ao_."[48] + + [47] Who's there. + [48] Come in. + +The door opened and large Mr. Dearman walked in. He bore a nasty-looking +malacca cane in his hand--somewhat ostentatiously. + +"Hullo, Dearman!" said Augustus after a decidedly startled and anxious +look. "What is it? Sit down. I'm just back from College. Have a drink?" + +Large Mr. Dearman considered these things _seriatim_. + +"I will sit down as I want a talk with you. You are a liar in the matter +of just being back from College. I will not have a drink." He then +lapsed into silence and looked at Augustus very straight and very +queerly, while bending the nasty malacca suggestively. The knees of +Augustus smote together. + +Good God! It had come at last! The thrashing he had so often earned was +at hand. What should he do? What _should_ he do! + +Dearman thought the young man was about to faint. + +"Fine malacca that, isn't it?" he asked. + +"Ye-yes!" + +"Swishy, supple, tough." + +"Ye-yes!" (How could the brute be such a fool as to be jealous now--now +when it was all cooling off and coming to an end?) + +"Grand stick to thrash a naughty boy with, what?" + +"Ye-yes!--Dearman, I swear before God that there is nothing between me +and----" + +"Shut up, you infernal God-forsaken cub, or I shall have to whip you. +I----" + +"Dearman, if you are jealous of me----" + +"Better be quiet and listen, or _I_ shall get cross, and _you'll_ get +hurt.... You have given us the pleasure of a great deal of your company +this year, and I have come to ask you----" + +"Dearman, I have not been so much lately, and I--" + +"That's what I complain of, my young friend." + +"What?" + +"That's what I complain of! I have come to protest against your making +yourself almost necessary to me, in a sense, and then--er--deserting me, +in a sense." + +"You are mocking me, Dearman. If you wish to take advantage of my being +half your size and strength to assault me, you----" + +"Not a bit of it, my dear Augustus. I am in most deadly earnest, as +you'll find if you are contumacious when I make my little proposition. +What I say is this. _I_ have grown to take an interest in you, Augustus. +_I_ have been very kind to you and tried to make a better man of you. +_I_ have been a sort of mother to you, and you have sworn devotion and +gratitude to me. _I_ have reformed you somewhat, and you have admitted +to me that I have made another man of you, Augustus, and that you love +me for it, you love _me_ with a deep Platonic love, my Augustus, +and--don't you forget it." + +"I admit that your wife----" + +"Don't you mention my wife, Augustus, or you and I and that malacca will +have a period of great activity. I was saying that _I_ am disappointed +in you, Augustus, and truly grieved to find you so shallow and false. I +asked you to take me on the river to-night and you lied to me and took a +very different type of--er--person. Such meanness and ingratitude fairly +get me, Augustus. Now I never _asked_ you to run after me and come and +swear I had saved your dirty little soul alive, but since you did it, +Augustus, and _I_ have come to take a deep interest in saving the +thing--why, you've got to stick it, Augustus--and if you don't--why, +then I'll make you, my dear." + +"Dearman, your wife has been the noblest friend----" + +"_Will_ you come off it, Augustus? I don't want to be cruel. Now look +here. _I_ have got accustomed to having you about the house and +employing you in those funny little ways in which you are a useful +little animal. I am under no delusion as to the value of that Soul of +yours--but, such as it is, _I_ am determined to save it. So just you +bring it round to tea to-morrow, as usual; and don't you ever be absent +again without my permission. You began the game and I'll end it--when I +think fit. Grand malacca that." + +"Dearman, I will always----" + +"'Course you will. See you at tea to-morrow, Gussie. If ever my wife +hears of this I'll kill you painfully. Bye-Bye." + +Augustus was present at tea next day, and, thenceforth, so regular was +he that Mrs. Dearman found, first, that she had been very foolish in +thinking that her Brand was slipping back into the fire and, later, that +Gussie was a bore and a nuisance. + +One day he said in the presence of John:-- + +"I can't keep that golf engagement on Saturday, dear lady, I have to +attend a meeting of the Professors, Principal and College Board". + +"Have you seen my malacca cane, Pat," said Dearman. "I want it." + +"But I really have!" said Augustus, springing up. + +"Of course you have," replied Dearman. "What _do_ you mean?" + + * * * * * + +"John dear," remarked Mrs. Dearman one day, "I wish you could give +Gussie a hint not to come quite so often. I have given him some very +broad ones during the last few months, but he won't take them. He would +from you, I expect." + +"Tired of the little bounder, Pat?" + +"Oh, sick and tired. He bores me to tears. I wish he were in Government +Service and could be transferred. A Government man's always transferred +as soon as he has settled to his job. I can't forbid him the house, very +well, but I _wish_ he'd realize how weary I am of his poses and new +socks." + + * * * * * + +Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble sat in the long cane chair in +his sitting-room, a look of rebellious discontent upon his face. What +could he do? Better chuck his job and clear out! The strain was getting +awful. What a relentless, watchful brute Dearman was! To him entered +that gentleman after gently tapping at the chamber door. + +"Gussie," said he, "I have come to say that I think you weary me. I +don't want you to come and play with me any more. _But_ be a nice good +boy and do me credit. I have brought you this malacca as a present and a +memento. I have another, Gussie, and am going to watch you, so be a real +credit to me." + +And Gussie was. + +So once again a good woman redeemed a bad man--but a trifle indirectly +perhaps. + +Then came General Miltiades Murger and Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison to be +saved. + +During intervals in the salvation process, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison +vainly endeavoured to induce Mr. Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke +Grobble to lend his countenance, as well as the rest of his person, to +the European Company of the Gungapur Fusilier Volunteer Corps which it +was the earnest ambition of Ross-Ellison to raise and train and +consolidate into a real and genuine defence organization, with a +maxim-gun, a motor-cycle and car section, and a mounted troop, and with, +above all, a living and sturdy _esprit-de-corps_. Such a Company +appeared to him to be the one and only hope of regeneration for the +ludicrous corps which Colonel Dearman commanded, and to change the +metaphor, the sole possible means of leavening the lump by its example +of high standards and high achievement. + +To Augustus, however, as to many other Englishmen, the idea was merely +ridiculous and its parent simply absurd. + +The day dawned when Augustus, like the said many other Englishmen, +changed his mind. In his, and their defence, it may be urged that they +knew nothing of the activities of a very retiring but persevering +gentleman, known to his familiars as Ilderim the Weeper, and that they +had grown up in the belief that all England's fighting and defence can +be done by a few underpaid, unconsidered, and very vulgar hirelings. + +Perish the thought that Augustus and his like should ever be expected to +do the dirty work of defending themselves, their wives, children, homes +and honour. + + + + +§ 2. GENERAL MURGER. + + +In a temporary Grand Stand of matchboarding and canvas _tout Gungapur_ +greeted Mrs. Pat Dearman, who was quite At Home, ranged itself, and +critically inspected the horses, or the frocks, of its friends, +according to its sex. + +Around the great ring on to which the Grand Stand looked, Arab, Pathan, +and other heathen raged furiously together and imagined many vain +things. Among them unobtrusively moved a Somali who listened carefully +to conversations, noted speakers, and appeared to be collecting +impressions as to the state of public opinion--and of private opinion. +Particularly he sought opportunities of hearing reference to the +whereabouts and doings of one Ilderim the Weeper. In the ring were a +course of stiff jumps, lesser rings, the judges' office, a kind of +watch-tower from which a strenuous fiend with a megaphone bawled things +that no living soul could understand, and a number of most +horsily-arrayed gentlemen, whose individual status varied from General +and cavalry-colonel to rough rider, troop sergeant-major and stud groom. + +I regret to add that there was also a Lady, that she was garbed for +riding in the style affected by mere man, and that she swaggered +loud-voiced, horsey, slapping a boot. + +Let men thank the good God for womanly women while such be--and +appreciate them. + +Behind the Grand Stand were massed the motor-cars and carriages of +Society, as well as the Steward of the Gungapur Club, who there spent a +busy afternoon in eating ices and drinking Cup while his myrmidons +hurried around, washed glasses, squeezed lemons, boiled water and +dropped things. Anon he drank ices and ate Cup (with a spoon) and was +taken deviously back to his little bungalow behind the Club by the Head +Bootlaire Saheb (or butler) who loved and admired him. + +Beyond the big ring ran the river, full with the summer rains, giving a +false appearance of doing much to cool the air and render the afternoon +suitable to the stiff collars and "Europe" garments of the once sterner +sex. + +A glorious sea-breeze did what the river pretended to do. Beneath the +shade of a clump of palms, scores of more and less valuable horses +stamped, tossed heads, whisked tails and possibly wondered why God made +flies, while an equal number of _syces_ squatted, smoked pungent +_bidis_, and told lies. + +Outside a tent, near by, sat a pimply youth at a table bearing boxes of +be-ribboned labels, number-inscribed, official, levelling. + +These numbers corresponded with those attached to the names of the +horses in the programme of events, and riders must tie one round each +arm ere bringing a horse up for judgment when called on. + +Certain wretched carping critics alleged that this arrangement was to +prevent the possibility of error on the part of the Judges, who, +otherwise, would never know whether a horse belonged to a General or a +Subaltern, to a Member of Council or an Assistant Collector, to a Head +of a Department or a wretched underling--in short to a personage or a +person. + +You find this type of doubter everywhere--and especially in India where +official rank is but the guinea stamp and gold is brass without it. + +Great, in the Grand Stand, was General Miltiades Murger. Beside Mrs. +Dearman, most charming of hostesses, he sate, in the stage of avuncular +affection, and told her that if the Judges knew their business his +hunter would win the Hunter-Class first prize and be "Best Horse in the +Show" too. + +As to his charger, his hack, his trapper, his suitable-for-polo ponies, +his carriage-horses he did not worry; they might or might not "do +something," but his big and beautiful hunter--well, he hoped the Judges +knew their business, that was all. + +"Are you going to show him in the ring yourself, General?" asked Mrs. +Dearman. + +"And leave your side?" replied the great man in manner most avuncular +and with little reassuring pats upon the lady's hand. "No, indeed. I am +going to remain with you and watch Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh ride him +for me. Finest horseman in India. Good as myself. Yes, I _hope_ the +Judges for Class XIX know their business. I imported that horse from +Home and he cost me over six thousand rupees." + +Meanwhile, it may be mentioned, evil passions surged in the soul of Mr. +John Robin Ross-Ellison as he watched the General, and witnessed his +avuncular pattings and confidential whisperings. Mr. Ross-Ellison had +lunched with the Dearmans, had brought Mrs. Dearman to the Horse Show, +and was settling down, after she had welcomed her guests, to a +delightful, entrancing, and thrillful afternoon with her--to be broken +but while he showed his horse--when he had been early and utterly routed +by the General. The heart of Mr. Ross-Ellison was sore within him, for +he loved Mrs. Dearman very devotedly and respectfully. + +He was always devotedly in love with some one, and she was always a nice +good woman. + +When she, or he, left the station, his heart died within him, life was +hollow, and his mouth filled with Dead Sea fruit. The world he loved so +much would turn to dust and ashes at his touch. After a week or so his +heart would resurrect, life would become solid, and his mouth filled +with merry song. He would fall in love afresh and the world went very +well then. + +At present he loved Mrs. Dearman--and hated General Miltiades Murger, +who had sent him for a programme and taken his seat beside Mrs. Dearman. +There was none on the other side of her--Mr. Ross-Ellison had seen to +that--and his prudent foresight had turned and rent him, for he could +not plant a chair in the narrow gangway. + +He wandered disconsolately away and instinctively sought the object of +the one permanent and unwavering love of his life--his mare "Zuleika," +late of Balkh. + +Zuleika was more remarkable for excellences of physique than for those +of mind and character. To one who knew her not, she was a wild beast, +fitter for a cage in a Zoo than for human use, a wild-eyed, screaming +man-eating she-devil; and none knew her save Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison, who had bought her unborn. (He knew her parents.) + +"If you see an ugly old cove with no hair and a blue nose come over here +for his number, just kick his foremost button, _hard_," said Mr. +Ross-Ellison to her as he gathered up the reins and, dodging a kick, +prepared to mount. This was wrong of him, for Zuleika had never suffered +any harm at the hands of General Miltiades Murger, "'eavy-sterned +amateur old men" he quoted in a vicious grumble. + +A wild gallop round the race-course did something to soothe the ruffled +spirit of Mr. Ross-Ellison and nothing to improve Zuleika's +appearance--just before she entered the show-ring. + +On returning, Mr. Ross-Ellison met the Notable Nut (Lieutenant Nottinger +Nutt, an ornament of the Royal Horse Artillery), and they talked evil of +Dignitaries and Institutions amounting to high treason if not blasphemy, +while watching the class in progress, with young but gloomy eyes. + +"I don't care what _any_body says," observed the Notable Nut. "You read +the lists of prize-winners of all the bally horse-shows ever held here +and you'll find 'em all in strict and decorous order of owner's rank. +'Chargers. First Prize--_Lieutenant-General_ White's "Pink Eye". Second +Prize--_Brigadier-General_ Black's "Red Neck". Third Prize--_Colonel_ +Brown's "Ham Bone". Highly commended--_Major_ Green's "Prairie Oyster". +Nowhere at all--_Second-Lieutenant_ Blue's "Cocktail,"'--and worth all +the rest put together. I tell you I've seen horse after horse change +hands after winning a First Prize as a General's property and then win +nothing at all as a common Officer's or junior civilian's, until bought +again by a Big Pot. Then it sweeps the board. I don't for one second +dream of accusing Judges of favouritism or impropriety any kind, but I'm +convinced that the glory of a brass-bound owner casts a halo about his +horse that dazzles and blinds the average rough-rider, stud-groom and +cavalry-sergeant, and don't improve the eyesight of some of their +betters, when judging." + +"You're right, Nutty," agreed Mr. Ross-Ellison. "Look at that horse +'Runaway'. Last year it won the First Prize as a light-weight hunter, +First Prize as a hack, and Highly Commended as a charger--disqualified +from a prize on account of having no mane. It then belonged to a Colonel +of Dragoons. This year, with a mane and in, if possible, better +condition, against practically the same horses, it wins nothing at all. +This year it belongs to a junior in the P.W.D. one notices." + +"Just what I say," acquiesced the aggrieved Nut, whose rejected horse +had been beaten by another which it had itself beaten (under different +ownership) the previous year. "Fact is, the judges should be absolutely +ignorant as to who owns the horses. They mean well enough, but to them +it stands to reason that the most exalted Pots own the most exalted +horses. Besides, is it fair to ask a troop sergeant-major to order his +own Colonel's horse out of the ring, or the General's either? They ought +not to get subordinates in at all. Army Veterinary Colonels from other +Divisions are the sort of chaps you want, and some really knowledgeable +unofficial civilians--and, as I say, to be in complete ignorance as to +ownership. No man to ride his own horse--and none of these bally numbers +to prevent the Judges from thinking a General's horse belongs to a +common man, and from getting the notion that a subaltern's horse belongs +to a General." + +"Yes" mused Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and another thing. If you want to get a +horse a win or a place in the Ladies' Hack class--get a pretty girl to +ride it. They go by the riders' faces and figures entirely.... Hullo! +Class XIX wanted. That's me and Zuleika. Come and tie the labels on my +arms like a good dog." + +"Right O. But you haven't the ghost of a little look in," opined the +Nut. "Old Murger has got a real corking English hunter in. A General +will win as usual--but he'll win with by far the best horse, for once in +the history of horse-shows." + +Dismounting and handing their reins to the syces, the two young +gentlemen strolled over to the table where presided he of the pimples +and number-labels. + +A burly Sikh was pointing to the name of General Miltiades Murger and +asking for the number printed thereagainst. + +The youth handed Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh two labels each bearing the +number 99. These, the gallant Native Officer proceeded to tie upon his +arms--putting them upside down, as is the custom of the native of India +when dealing with anything in any wise reversible. + +Mr. Ross-Ellison approached the table, showed his name on the programme +and asked for his number--66. + +"Tie these on," said he returning to his friend. "By Jove--there's old +Murger's horse," he added--"what a magnificent animal!" + +Looking up, the Nut saw Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh mounting the +beautiful English hunter--and also saw that he bore the number 66. +Therefore the labels handed to him were obviously 99, and as 99 he tied +on the 66 of Mr. Ross-Ellison--who observed the fact. + +"I am afraid I'm all Pathan at this moment," silently remarked he unto +his soul, and smiled an ugly smile. + +"Not much good my entering Zuleika against _that_ mare," he said aloud. +"It must have cost just about ten times what I paid for her. Never mind +though! We'll show up--for the credit of civilians," and he rode into +the ring--where a score of horses solemnly walked round and round the +Judges and in front of the Grand Stand.... + +General Murger brought Mrs. Dearman a cup of tea, and, having placed his +_topi_[49] in his chair, went, for a brandy-and-soda and cheroot, to the +bar behind the rows of seats. + + [49] Sun-helmet. + +On his return he beheld his superb and expensive hunter behaving +superbly and expensively in the expert hands of Rissaldar-Major Shere +Singh. + +He feasted his eyes upon it. + +Suddenly a voice, a voice he disliked intensely, the voice of Mr. +Dearman croaked fiendishly in his ear: "Why, General, they've got your +horse numbered wrongly!" + +General Miltiades Murger looked again. Upon the arm of Rissaldar-Major +Shere Singh was the number 66. + +Opening his programme with trembling fingers he found his name, his +horse's name, and number 99! + +He rose to his feet, stammering and gesticulating. As he did so the +words:-- + +"Take out number 66," were distinctly borne to the ears of the serried +ranks of the fashionable in the Grand Stand. Certain military-looking +persons at the back abandoned all dignity and fell upon each other's +necks, poured great libations, danced, called upon their gods, or fell +prostrate upon settees. + +Others, seated among the ladies, looked into their bats as though in +church. + +"Has Ross-Ellison faked it?" ran from mouth to mouth, and, "He'll be +hung for this". + +A minute or so later the Secretary approached the Grand Stand and +announced in stentorian tones: + +"First Prize--General Murger's _Darling_, Number 99". + +While behind him upon Zuleika, chosen of the Judges, sat and smiled Mr. +John Robin Ross-Ellison, who lifted his voice and said: +"Thanks--No!--This horse is _mine_ and is named _Zuleika_." He looked +rather un-English, rather cunning, cruel and unpleasant--quite different +somehow, from his ordinary cheery, bright English self. + + * * * * * + +"Old" Brigadier General Miltiades Murger was unique among British +Generals in that he sometimes resorted to alcoholic stimulants beyond +reasonable necessity and had a roving and a lifting eye for a pretty +woman. In one sense the General had never taken a wife--and, in another, +he had taken several. Indeed it was said of him by jealous colleagues +that the hottest actions in which he had ever been engaged were actions +for divorce or breach of promise, and that this type of imminent deadly +breach was the kind with which he was best acquainted. Also that he was +better at storming the citadel of a woman's heart than at storming +anything else. + +No eminent man is without jealous detractors. + +As to the stimulants, make no mistake and jump to no hasty conclusions. +General Murger had never been seen drunk in the whole of his +distinguished and famous (or as the aforesaid colleagues called it, +egregious and notorious) career. + +On the other hand, the voice of jealousy said he had never been seen +sober either. In the words of envy, hatred, malice and all +uncharitableness it declared that he had been born fuddled, had lived +fuddled, and would die fuddled. And there were ugly stories. + +Also some funny ones--one of which concerns the, Gungapur Fusilier +Volunteer Corps and Colonel Dearman, their beloved but shortly retiring +(and, as some said, their worthy) Commandant. + +Mr. Dearman was a very wealthy (and therefore popular), very red haired +and very patriotic mill-owner who tried very hard to be proud of his +Corps, and, without trying, was immensely proud of his wife. + +As to the Corps--well, it may at least be said that it would have +followed its beloved Commandant anywhere (that was neither far nor +dangerous), for every one of its Officers, except Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison, and the bulk of its men, were his employees. + +They loved him for his wealth and they trusted him absolutely--trusted +him not to march them far nor work them much. And they were justified of +their faith. + +Several of the Officers were almost English--though Greeks and +Goa-Portuguese predominated, and there was undeniably a drop or two of +English blood in the ranks, well diffused of course. Some folk said that +even Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison was not as Scotch as his name. + +On guest-nights in the Annual Camp of Exercise (when the Officers' Mess +did itself as well as any Mess in India--and only took a few hundred +rupees of the Government Grant for the purpose) Colonel Dearman would +look upon the wine when it was bubbly, see his Corps through its golden +haze, and wax so optimistic, so enthusiastic, so rash, as roundly to +state that if he had five hundred of the Gungapur Fusiliers, with +magazines charged and bayonets fixed, behind a stout entrenchment or in +a fortified building, he would stake his life on their facing any +unarmed city mob you could bring against them. But these were but +post-prandial vapourings, and Colonel Dearman never talked nor thought +any such folly when the Corps was present to the eye of flesh. + +On parade he saw it for what it was--a mob of knock-kneed, sniffling +lads with just enough strength to suck a cigarette; anaemic clerks, fat +cooks, and loafers with just enough wind to last a furlong march; huge +beery old mechanics and ex-"Tommies," forced into this coloured galley +as a condition of their "job at the works "; and the non-native scum of +the city of Gungapur--which joined for the sake of the ammunition-boots +and khaki suit. + +There was not one Englishman who was a genuine volunteer and not half a +dozen Parsis. Englishmen prefer to join a corps which consists of +Englishmen or at least has an English Company. When they have no +opportunity of so doing, it is a little unfair to class them with the +lazy, unpatriotic, degenerate young gentlemen who have the opportunity +and do not seize it. Captain Ross-Ellison was doing his utmost to +provide the opportunity--with disheartening results. + +However--Colonel Dearman tried very hard to be proud of his Corps and +never forgave anyone who spoke slightingly of it. + +As to his wife, there was, as stated, no necessity for any "trying". He +was immensely and justly proud of her as one of the prettiest, most +accomplished, and most attractive women in the Bendras Presidency. + +Mrs. "Pat" Dearman, _née_ Cleopatra Diamond Brighte, was, as has been +said, consciously and most obviously a Good Woman. Brought up by a +country rector and his vilely virtuous sister, her girlhood had been a +struggle to combine her two ambitions, that of being a Good Woman with +that of having a Good Time. In the village of Bishop's Overley the +former had been easier; in India the latter. But even in India, where +the Good Time was of the very best, she forgot not the other ambition, +went to church with unfailing regularity, read a portion of the +Scriptures daily; headed subscription lists for the myriad hospitals, +schools, widows'-homes, work-houses, Christian associations, churches, +charitable societies, shelters, orphanages, rescue-homes and other +deserving causes that appeal to the European in India; did her duty by +Colonel Dearman, and showed him daily by a hundred little bright +kindnesses that she had not married him for his great wealth but for +his--er--his--er--not exactly his beauty or cleverness or youthful +gaiety or learning or ability--no, for his Goodness, of course, and +because she loved him--loved him for the said Goodness, no doubt. No, +she never forgot the lessons of the Rectory, that it is the Whole Duty +of Man to Save his or her Soul, but remembered to be a Good Woman while +having the Good Time. Perhaps the most industriously pursued of all her +goodnesses was her unflagging zealous labour in Saving the Souls of +Others as well as her own Soul--the "Others" being the young, +presentable, gay, and well-placed men of Gungapur Society. + +Yes, Mrs. Pat Dearman went beyond the Rectory teachings and was not +content with personal salvation. A Good Woman of broad altruistic +charity, there was not a young Civilian, not a Subaltern, not a +handsome, interesting, smart, well-to-do, well-in-society, young +bachelor in whose spiritual welfare she did not take the deepest +personal interest. And, perhaps, of all such eligible souls in Gungapur, +the one whose Salvation she most deeply desired to work out (after she +wearied of the posings and posturings of Augustus Grobble) was that of +Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison of her husband's corps--an exceedingly +handsome, interesting, smart, well-to-do, well-in-society young +bachelor. The owner of this eligible Soul forebore to tell Mrs. Pat +Dearman that it was bespoke for Mohammed the Prophet of Allah--inasmuch +as _almost_ the most entrancing, thrilling and delightful pursuit of his +life was the pursuit of soul-treatment at the hands, the beautiful tiny +white hands, of Mrs. Pat Dearman. Had her large soulful eyes penetrated +this subterfuge, he would have jettisoned Mohammed forthwith, since, to +him, the soul-treatment was of infinitely more interest and value than +the soul, and, moreover, strange as it may seem, this Mussulman English +gentleman had received real and true Christian teaching at his mother's +knee. When Mrs. Pat Dearman took him to Church, as she frequently did, +on Sunday evenings, he was filled with great longings--and with a +conviction of the eternal Truth and Beauty of Christianity and the +essential nobility of its gentle, unselfish, lofty teachings. He would +think of his mother, of some splendid men and women he had known, +especially missionaries, medical and other, at Bannu and Poona and +elsewhere, and feel that he was really a Christian at heart; and then +again in Khost and Mekran Kot, when carrying his life in his hand, +across the border, in equal danger from the bullet of the Border Police, +Guides, or Frontier Force cavalry-outposts and from the bullet of +criminal tribesmen, when a devil in his soul surged up screaming for +blood and fire and slaughter; during the long stealthy crawl as he +stalked the stalker; during the wild, yelling, knife-brandishing rush; +as he pressed the steady trigger or guided the slashing, stabbing Khyber +knife, or as he instinctively _hallaled_ the victim of his _shikar_, he +knew he was a Pathan and a Mussulman as were his fathers. + +But whether circumstances brought his English blood to the surface or +his Pathan blood, whether the day were one of his most English days or +one of his most Pathan days, whether it were a day of mingled and +quickly alternating Englishry and Pathanity he now loved and supported +Britain and the British Empire for Mrs. Dearman's sake. Often as he +(like most other non-officials) had occasion to detest and desire to +kick the Imperial Englishman, championship of England and her Empire +was now his creed. And as there was probably not another England-lover +in all India who had his knowledge of under-currents, and forces within +and without, he was perhaps the most anxiously loving of all her lovers, +and the most appalled at the criminal carelessness, blind ignorance, +fatuous conceit, and folly of a proportion of her sons in India. + +Knowing what he knew of Teutonic intrigue and influence in India, +Ceylon, Afghanistan, Aden, Persia, Egypt, East Africa, the Straits +Settlements, and China, he was reminded of the men and women of Pompeii +who ate, drank, and were merry, danced and sang, pursued pleasure and +the nimble denarius, while Vesuvius rumbled. + +Constantly the comparison entered his mind. + +He had sojourned with Indian "students" in India, England, Germany, +Geneva, America and Japan, and had belonged to the most secret of +societies. He had himself been a well-paid agent of Germany in both Asia +and Africa; and he had been instrumental in supplying thousands of +rifles to Border raiders, Persian bandits, and other potential troublers +of the _pax Britannica_. He now lived half his double life in Indian +dress and moved on many planes; and to many places where even he could +not penetrate unsuspected, his staunch and devoted slave, Moussa Isa, +went observant. And all that he learnt and knew, within and without the +confines of Ind, _by itself_ disturbed him, as an England-lover, not at +all. Taken in conjunction with the probabilities of a great European War +it disturbed him mightily. As mightily as unselfishly. To him the +dripping weapon, the blazing roof, the shrieking woman, the mangled +corpse were but incidents, the unavoidable, unobjectionable concomitants +of the Great Game, the game he most loved (and played upon every +possible occasion)--War. + +While, with one half of his soul, John Robin Ross-Ellison might fear +internal disruption, mutiny, rebellion and civil war for what it might +bring to the woman he loved, with the other half of his soul, Mir +Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan dwelt upon the joys of +battle, of campaigning, the bivouac, the rattle of rifle-fire, the +charge, the circumventing and slaying of the enemy, as he circumvents +that he may slay. Thus, it was with no selfish thought, no personal +dread, that he grew, as said, mightily disturbed at what he knew of +India whenever he saw signs of the extra imminence of the Great European +Armageddon that looms upon the horizon, now near, now nearer still, now +less near, but inevitably there, plain to the eyes of all observant, +informed and thoughtful men.[50] + + [50] Written in 1912.--AUTHOR. + +What really astounded and appalled him was the mental attitude, the +mental condition, of British "statesmen," who (while a mighty and +ever-growing neighbour, openly, methodically, implacably prepared for +the war that was to win her place in the sun) laboured to reap votes by +sowing class-hatred and devoted to national "insurance" moneys sorely +needed to insure national _existence_. + +To him it was as though hens cackled of introducing +time-and-labour-saving incubators while the fox pressed against the +unfastened door, smiling to think that their cackle smothered all other +sounds ere they reached them or the watch-dog. + +Yes--while England was at peace, all was well with India; but let +England find herself at war, fighting for her very existence ... and +India might, in certain parts, be an uncomfortable place for any but the +strong man armed, as soon as the British troops were withdrawn--as they, +sooner or later, most certainly would be. Then, feared Captain John +Robin Ross-Ellison of the Gungapur Fusiliers, the British Flag would, +for a terrible breathless period of stress and horror, fly, assailed but +triumphant, wherever existed a staunch well-handled Volunteer Corps, and +would flutter down into smoke, flames, ruin and blood, where there did +not. He was convinced that, for a period, the lives of English women, +children and men; English prosperity, prestige, law and order; English +rule and supremacy, would in some parts of India depend for a time upon +the Volunteers of India. At times he was persuaded that the very +continuance of the British Empire might depend upon the Volunteers of +India. If, during some Black Week (or Black Month or Year) of England's +death-struggle with her great rival she lost India (defenceless India, +denuded of British troops), she would lose her Empire,--be the result of +her European war what it might. And knowing all that he knew, he feared +for England, he feared for India, he feared for the Empire. Also he +determined that, so far as it lay in the power of one war-trained man, +the flag should be kept flying in Gungapur when the Great European +Armageddon commenced, and should fly over a centre, and a shelter, for +Mrs. Dearman, and for all who were loyal and true. + +That would be a work worthy of the English blood of him and of the +Pathan blood too. God! he would show some of these devious, +subterranean, cowardly swine what war _is_, if they brought war to +Gungapur in the hour of India's danger and need, the hour of England and +the Empire's danger and need. + +And Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison (and still more Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan), obsessed with the belief that a +different and more terrible 1857 would dawn with the first big reverse +in England's final war with her systematic, slow, sure, and certain +rival, her deliberate, scientific, implacable rival, gave all his +thoughts, abilities and time to the enthralling, engrossing game of +Getting Ready. + +Perfecting his local system of secret information, hearing and seeing +all that he could with his own Pathan ears and eyes, and adding to his +knowledge by means of those of the Somali slave, he also learnt, at +first hand, what certain men were saying in Cabul and on the Border--and +what those men say in those places is worth knowing by the meteorologist +of world-politics. The pulse of the heart of Europe can be felt very far +from that heart, and as is the wrist to the pulse-feeling doctor, is +Afghanistan and the Border to the head of India's Political Department; +as is the doctor's sensitive thumb to the doctor's brain, is the tried, +trusted and approven agent of the Secret Service to the Head of all the +Politicals.... What chiefly troubled Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison of +the Gungapur Fusiliers was the shocking condition of those same +Fusiliers and the blind smug apathy, the fatuous contentment, the short +memories and shorter sight, of the British Pompeians who were perfectly +willing that the condition of the said Fusiliers should remain so. + +Clearly the first step towards a decently reliable and efficient corps +in Gungapur was the abolition of the present one, and, with unformulated +intentions towards its abolition, Mr. Ross-Ellison, by the kind +influence of Mrs. Dearman, joined as a Second Lieutenant and speedily +rose to the rank of Captain and the command of a Company. A year's +indefatigable work convinced him that he might as well endeavour to +fashion sword-blades from leaden pipes as to make a fighting unit of his +gang of essentially cowardly, peaceful, unreliable, feeble nondescripts. +That their bodies were contemptible he would have regarded as merely +deplorable, but there was no spirit, no soul, no tradition--nothing upon +which he could work. "Broken-down tapsters and serving-men" indeed, in +Cromwell's bitter words, and to be replaced by "men of a spirit". + +They must go--and make way for men--if indeed _men_ could be found, men +who realized that even an Englishman owes something to the community +when he goes abroad, in spite of his having grown up in a land where +honourable and manly National Service is not, and those who keep him +safe are cheap hirelings, cheaply held.... + +On the arrival of General Miltiades Murger he sat at his feet as soon +as, and whenever, possible; only to discover that he was not only +uninterested in, but obviously contemptuous of, volunteers and +volunteering. When, at the Dearmans' dinner-table, he endeavoured to +talk with the General on the subject he was profoundly discouraged, and +on his asking what was to happen when the white troops went home and +the Indian troops went to the Border, or even to Europe, as soon as +England's inevitable and final war broke out, he was also profoundly +snubbed. + +When, after that dinner, General Miltiades Murger made love to Mrs. +Dearman on the verandah, he also made an enemy, a bitter, cruel, and +vindictive enemy of Mr. Ross-Ellison (or rather of Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan). + +Nor did his subsequent victory at the Horse Show lessen the enmity, +inasmuch as Mrs. Dearman (whom Ross-Ellison loved with the respectful +platonic devotion of an English gentleman and the fierce intensity of a +Pathan) took General Miltiades Murger at his own valuation, when that +hero described himself and his career to her by the hour. For the +General had succumbed at a glance, and confided to his Brigade-Major +that Mrs. Dearman was a dooced fine woman and the Brigade-Major might +say that he said so, damme. + +As the General's infatuation increased he told everybody else +also--everybody except Colonel Dearman--who, of course, knew it already. + +He even told Jobler, his soldier-servant, promoted butler, as that +sympathetic and admiring functionary endeavoured to induce him to go to +bed without his uniform. + +At last he told Mrs. Dearman herself, as he saw her in the rosy light +that emanated from the fine old Madeira that fittingly capped a noble +luncheon given by him in her honour. + +He also told her that he loved her as a father--and she besought him not +to be absurd. Later he loved her as an uncle, later still as a cousin, +later yet as a brother, and then as a man. + +She had laughed deprecatingly at the paternal affection, doubtfully at +the avuncular, nervously at the cousinly, angrily at the brotherly,--and +not at all at the manly. + +In fact--as the declaration of manly love had been accompanied by an +endeavour to salute what the General had called her damask-cheek--she +had slapped the General's own cheek a resounding blow.... + +"Called you 'Mrs. Darlingwoman,' did he!" roared Mr. Dearman upon being +informed of the episode. "Wished to salute your damask cheek, did he! +The boozy old villain! Damask cheek! _Damned_ cheek! Where's my +dog-whip?" ... but Mrs. Dearman had soothed and restrained her lord for +the time being, and prevented him from insulting and assaulting the +"aged roué"--who was years younger, in point of fact, than the +clean-living Mr. Dearman himself. + +But he had shut his door to the unrepentant and unashamed General, had +cut him in the Club, had returned a rudely curt answer to an invitation +to dinner, and had generally shown the offender that he trod on +dangerous ground when poaching on the preserves of Mr. Dearman. Whereat +the General fumed. + +Also the General swore that he would cut the comb of this insolent +money-grubbing civilian. + +Further, he intimated his desire to inspect the Gungapur Fusiliers "on +Saturday next". + +Not the great and terrible Annual Inspection, of course, but a +preliminary canter in that direction. + +Doubtless, the new General desired to arrive at a just estimate of the +value of this unit of his Command, and to allot to it the place for +which it was best fitted in the scheme of local defence and things +military at Gungapur. + +Perhaps he desired to teach the presumptuous upstart, Dearman, a little +lesson.... + +The Brigade Major's demy-official letter, bearing the intimation of the +impending visitation--fell as a bolt from the blue and smote the Colonel +of the Gungapur Fusiliers a blow that turned his heart to water and +loosened the tendons of his knees. + +The very slack Adjutant was at home on leave; the Sergeant-Major was +absolutely new to the Corps; the Sergeant-Instructor was alcoholic and +ill; and there was not a company officer, except the admirable Captain +John Robin Ross-Ellison, competent to drill a company as a separate +unit, much less to command one in a battalion. And Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison was away on an alleged _shikar_-trip across the distant +Border. Colonel Dearman knew his battalion-drill. He also knew his +Gungapur Fusiliers and what they did when they received the orders of +those feared and detested evolutions. They walked about, each man a law +unto himself, or stood fast until pushed in the desired direction by +blasphemous drill-corporals. + +Nor could any excuse be found wherewith to evade the General. It was +near the end of the drill-season, the Corps was up to its full strength, +all the Officers were in the station--except Captain Ross-Ellison and +the Adjutant. And the Adjutant's absence could not be made a just cause +and impediment why the visit of the General should not be paid, for +Colonel Dearman had with some difficulty, procured the appointment of +one of his Managers as acting-adjutant. + +To do so he had been moved to describe the man as an "exceedingly smart +and keen Officer," and to state that the Corps would in no way suffer by +this temporary change from a military to a civilian adjutant, from a +professional to an amateur. + +Perhaps the Colonel was right--it would have taken more than that to +make the Gungapur Fusiliers "suffer". + +And all had gone exceeding well up to the moment of the receipt of this +terrible demi-official, for the Acting-Adjutant had signed papers when +and where the Sergeant-Major told him, and had saluted the Colonel +respectfully every Saturday evening at five, as he came on parade, and +suggested that the Corps should form fours and march round and round the +parade ground, prior to attempting one or two simple movements--as +usual. + +No. It would have to be--unless, of course, the General had a stroke +before Saturday, or was smitten with _delirium tremens_ in time. For it +was an article of faith with Colonel Dearman since the disgraceful +episode--that a "stroke" hung suspended by the thinnest of threads above +the head of the "aged roué" and that, moreover, he trembled on the verge +of a terrible abyss of alcoholic diseases--a belief strengthened by the +blue face, boiled eye, congested veins and shaking hand of the breaker +of hearts. And Colonel Dearman knew that he must not announce the awful +fact until the Corps was actually present--or few men and fewer Officers +would find it possible to be on parade on that occasion. + +Saturday evening came, and with it some five hundred men and +Officers--the latter as a body, much whiter-faced than usual, on receipt +of the appalling news. + +"Thank God I have nothing to do but sit around on my horse," murmured +Major Pinto. + +"Don't return thanks yet," snapped Colonel Dearman. "You'll very likely +have to drill the battalion"--and the Major went as white as his natural +disadvantages permitted. + +Bitterly did Captain Trebizondi regret his constant insistence upon the +fact that he was senior Captain--for he was given command of "A" +Company, the post of honour and danger in front of all, and was implored +to "pull it through" and not to stand staring like an owl when the +Colonel said the battalion would advance; or turn to the left when he +shouted "In succession advance in fours from the right of Companies". + +And in the orderly-room was much hurried consulting of Captain +Ross-Ellison's well-trained subaltern and of drill-books; and a babel of +such questions as: "I say, what the devil do I do if I'm commanding +Number Two and he says 'Deploy outwards'? Go to the right or left?" + +More than one gallant officer was seen scribbling for dear life upon his +shirt-cuff, while others, to the common danger, endeavoured to practise +the complicated sword-brandishment which is consequent upon the order +"Fall out the Officers". + +Colonel Dearman appealed to his brothers-in-arms to stand by him nobly +in his travail, but was evidently troubled by the fear that some of them +would stand by him when they ought to march by him. Captain +Petropaulovski, the acting-adjutant, endeavoured to moisten his parched +lips with a dry tongue and sat down whenever opportunity offered. + +Captain Euxino Spoophitophiles was seen to tear a page from a red manual +devoted to instruction in the art of drill and to secrete it as one +"palms" a card--if one is given to the palming of cards. Captain +Schloggenboschenheimer was heard to promise a substantial _trink-geld_, +_pour-boire_, or vot-you-call-tip to Sergeant-Instructor Progg in the +event of the latter official remaining mit him and prompting him mit +der-vord-to-say ven it was necessary for him der-ting-to-do. + +Too late, Captain Da Costa bethought him of telephoning to his wife (to +telephone back to himself imploring him to return at once as she was +parlous ill and sinking fast), for even as he stepped quietly toward the +telephone-closet the Sergeant-Major bustled in with a salute and the +fatal words:-- + +"'Ere's the General, Sir!" + +"For God's sake get on parade and play the man this day," cried Colonel +Dearman, as he hurried out to meet the General, scoring his right boot +with his left spur and tripping over his sword _en route_. + + * * * * * + +The General greeted the Colonel as a total stranger, addressed him as +"Colonel," and said he anticipated great pleasure from this his first +visit to the well-known Gungapur Fusiliers. He did, and he got it. + +Dismounting slowly and heavily from his horse (almost as though "by +numbers") the General, followed by his smart and dapper Brigade-Major +and the perspiring Colonel Dearman, strode with clank of steel and +creak of leather, through the Headquarters building and emerged upon the +parade-ground where steadfast stood seven companies of the Gungapur +Fusilier Volunteers in quarter column--more or less at "attention". + +"'Shun!" bawled Colonel Dearman, and those who were "at ease" 'shunned, +and those who were already 'shunning took their ease. + +"'_Shun_!" again roared the Colonel, and those who were now in that +military position relinquished it--while those who were not, assumed it +in their own good time. + +As the trio drew nigh unto the leading company, Captain Trebizondi, +coyly lurking behind its rear rank, shrilly screamed, "'A' Gompany! +Royal Salutes! Present Arrrrms!" while a volunteer, late a private of +the Loyal Whitechapel Regiment, and now an unwilling member of this +corps of auxiliary troops, audibly ejaculated through one corner of his +mobile mouth:-- + +"Don't you do nothink o' the sort!" and added a brief orison in +prejudice of his eyesight. + +Certain of "A's" stalwarts obeyed their Captain, while others took the +advice of the volunteer--who was known to have been a man of war in the +lurid past, and to understand these matters. + +Lieutenant Toddywallah tugged valiantly at his sword for a space, but +finding that weapon coy and unwilling to leave its sheath, he raised his +helmet gracefully and respectfully to the General. His manner was always +polished. + +"What the devil are they doing?" inquired the General. + +"B," "C," "D," "E," "F," and "G" Companies breathed hard and protruded +their stomachs, while Sergeant-Instructor Progg deserved well of Captain +Schloggenboschenheimer by sharply tugging his tunic-tail as he was in +the act of roaring:-- + +"_Gomm_--!" the first syllable of the word "Company," with a view to +bestowing a royal salute likewise. Instead, the Captain extended the +hand of friendship to the General as he approached. The look of _nil +admirari_ boredom slowly faded from the face of the smart and dapper +Brigade-Major, and for a while it displayed quite human emotions. + +Up and down and between the ranks strode the trio, the General making +instructive and interesting comments from time to time, such as:-- + +"Are your buttons of metal or bone, my man? Polish them and find out." + +"What did you cook in that helmet?" + +"Take your belt in seven holes, and put it where your waist was." + +"Are _you_ fourteen years old yet?" + +"Personally I don't care to see brown boots, patent shoes nor carpet +slippers with uniform." + +"And when were you ninety, my poor fellow?" + +"Get your belly out of my way." + +"Put this unclean person under arrest or under a pump, please, Colonel." + +"Can you load a rifle unaided?" and so forth. + +The last-mentioned query "Can you load a rifle unaided?" addressed to a +weedy youth of seventeen who stood like a living mark-of-interrogation, +elicited the reply:-- + +"Nossir". + +"Oh, really! And what _can_ you do?" replied the General sweetly. + +"Load a rifle Lee-Metford," was the prompt answer. + +The General smiled wintrily, and, at the conclusion of his +peregrination, remarked to Colonel Dearman:-- + +"Well, Colonel, I can safely say that I have never inspected a +corps quite like yours"--an observation capable of various +interpretations--and intimated a desire to witness some company drill +ere testing the abilities of the regiment in battalion drill. + +"Let the rear company march out and go through some movements," said he. + +"Why the devil couldn't he have chosen Ross-Ellison's company," thought +Colonel Dearman, as he saluted and lifted up his voice and cried +aloud:-- + +"Captain Rozario! March 'G' Company out for some company-drill. +Remainder--stand _easy_." + +Captain Rozario paled beneath the bronze imparted to his well-nourished +face by the suns of Portugal (or Goa), drew his sword, dropped it, +picked it up, saluted with his left hand and backed into Lieutenant +Xenophontis of "F" Company, who asked him vare the devil he was going +to--hein?... + +To the first cold stroke of fright succeeded the hot flush of rage as +Captain Rozario saw the absurdity of ordering him to march his company +out for company drill. How in the name of all the Holy Saints could he +march his company out with six companies planted in front of him? Let +them be cleared away first. To his men he ejaculated:-- + +"Compannee----!" and they accepted the remark in silence. + +The silence growing tense he further ejaculated "Ahem!" very loudly, +without visible result or consequence. The silence growing tenser, +Colonel Dearman said encouragingly but firmly:-- + +"_Do_ something, Captain Rozario". + +Captain Rozario did something. He drew his whistle. He blew it. He +replaced it in his pocket. + +Nothing happening, he took his handkerchief from his sleeve, blew his +nose therewith and dropped it (the handkerchief) upon the ground. Seven +obliging volunteers darted forward to retrieve it. + +"May we expect the evolutions this evening, Colonel?" inquired General +Murger politely. + +"We are waiting for you to move off, Captain Rozario," stated Colonel +Dearman. + +"Sir, how can I move off with _oll_ the rest in my front?" inquired +Captain Rozario reasonably. + +"Form fours, right, and quick march," prompted the Sergeant-Major, and +Captain Rozario shrilled forth: + +"Form right fours and march quick," at the top of his voice. + +Many members of "G" Company turned to their right and marched towards +the setting-sun, while some turned to their left and marched in the +direction of China. + +These latter, discovering in good time that they had erred, hurried to +rejoin their companions--and "G" Company was soon in full swing if not +in fours.... + +There is a limit to all enterprise and the march of "G" Company was +stayed by a high wall. + +Then Captain Rozario had an inspiration. + +"About turn," he shrieked--and "G" Company about turned as one man, if +not in one direction. + +The march of "G" Company was stayed this time by the battalion into +which it comfortably nuzzled. + +Again Captain Rozario seized the situation and acted promptly and +resourcefully. + +"Halt!" he squeaked, and "G" Company halted--in form an oblate spheroid. + +Some of its members removed their helmets and the sweat of their brows, +some re-fastened bootlaces and putties or unfastened restraining hooks +and buttons. One gracefully succumbed to his exertions and fainting +fell, with an eye upon the General. + +"Interestin' evolution," remarked that Officer. "Demmed interestin'. May +we have some more?" + +"Get on, Captain Rozario," implored Colonel Dearman. "Let's see some +company-drill." + +"One hundred and twenty-five paces backward march," cried Captain +Rozario after a brief calculation, and "G" Company reluctantly detached +itself from the battalion, backwards. + +"Turn round this away and face to me," continued the gallant Captain, +"and then on the left form good companee." + +The oblate spheroid assumed an archipelagic formation, melting into +irregularly-placed military islands upon a sea of dust. + +"_Oll_ get together and left dress, please," besought Captain Rozario, +and many of the little islands amalgamated with that on their extreme +right while the remainder gravitated to their left--the result being +two continents of unequal dimensions. + +As Captain Rozario besought these disunited masses to conjoin, the voice +of the General was heard in the land-- + +"Kindly order that mob to disperse before it is fired on, will you, +Colonel? They can go home and stay there," said he. + +Captain Rozario was a man of sensibility and he openly wept. + +No one could call this a good beginning--nor could they have called the +ensuing battalion-drill a good ending. + +"Put the remainder of the battalion through some simple movements if +they know any," requested the General. + +Determined to retrieve the day yet, Colonel Dearman saluted, cleared his +throat terrifically and shouted: '"Tallish, 'shun!" with such force that +a nervous man in the front rank of "A" Company dropped his rifle and +several "presented" arms. + +Only one came to the "slope," two to the "trail" and four to the +"shoulder". + +Men already at attention again stood at ease, while men already at ease +again stood at attention. + +Disregarding these minor _contretemps_, Colonel Dearman clearly and +emphatically bellowed:-- + +"The battalion will advance. In succession, advance in fours from the +left of companies--" + +"Why not tell off the battalion--just for luck?" suggested General +Murger. + +"Tell off the battalion," said Colonel Dearman in his natural voice and +an unnaturally crestfallen manner. + +Captain Trebizondi of "A" Company glared to his front, and instead of +replying "Number One" in a loud voice, held his peace--tight. + +But his lips moved constantly, and apparently Captain Trebizondi was +engaged in silent prayer. + +"Tell off the battalion," bawled the Colonel again. + +Captain Trebizondi's lips moved constantly. + +"_Will_ you tell off the dam battalion, Sir?" shouted the Colonel at the +enrapt supplicant. + +Whether Captain Trebizondi is a Mohammedan I am not certain, but, if so, +he may have remembered words of the Prophet to the effect that it is +essential to trust in Allah absolutely, and expedient to tie up your +camel yourself, none the less. Captain Trebizondi was trusting in Allah +perchance--but he had not tied up his camel; he had not learnt his +drill. + +And when Colonel Dearman personally and pointedly appealed to him in the +matter of the battalion's telling-off, he turned round and faced it and +said-- + +"Ah--battalion--er--" in a very friendly and persuasive voice. + +Then a drill corporal took it upon him to bawl _Number One_ as Captain +Trebizondi should have done, some one shouted _Number Two_ from "B" +Company, the colour-sergeant of "C" bawled _Number Three_ and then, with +ready wit, the Captains of "D," "E," and "F" caught up the idea, and the +thing was done. + +So far so good. + +And the Colonel returned to his first venture and again announced to the +battalion that it would advance in succession and in fours from the left +of companies. + +It bore the news with equanimity and Captain Trebizondi visibly +brightened at the idea of leaving the spot on which he had suffered and +sweated--but he took no steps in the matter personally. + +He tried to scratch his leg through his gaiter. + +"'A' Company going this evening?" inquired the General. "Wouldn't hurry +you, y'know, but--I dine at nine." + +Captain Trebizondi remembered his parade-manners and threw a chest +instead of a stomach. + +The jerk caused his helmet to tilt forward over his eyes and settle down +slowly and firmly upon his face as a fallen cliff upon the beach +beneath. + +"The Officer commanding the leading company appears to be trying to +hide," commented General Murger. + +Captain Trebizondi uncovered his face--a face of great promise but no +performance. + +"_Will_ you march your company off, sir," shouted Colonel Dearman, "the +battalion is waiting for you." + +With a look of reproachful surprise and an air of "Why couldn't you say +so?" the harassed Captain agitated his sword violently as a salute, +turned to his company and boomed finely:-- + +"March off!" + +The Company obeyed its Commander. + +Seeing the thing so easy of accomplishment Captains Allessandropoulos, +Schloggenboschenheimer, Da Costa, Euxino, Spoophitophiles and José gave +the same order and the battalion was in motion--marching to its front in +quarter-column instead of wheeling off in fours. + + Unsteadily shoulder from shoulder, + Unsteadily blade from blade, + Unsteady and wrong, slouching along, + Went the boys of the old brigade. + +"Halt," roared Colonel Dearman. + +"Oh, don't halt 'em," begged General Murger, "it's the most entertainin' +show I have ever seen." + +The smart and dapper Brigade-Major's mouth was open. + +Major Pinto and Captain-and-Acting-Adjutant Petropaulovski forgot to +cling to their horses with hand and heel and so endangered their lives. + +The non-commissioned officers of the permanent staff commended their +souls to God and marched as men in a dream. + +On hearing the Colonel's cry of "Halt" many of the men halted. Not +hearing the Colonel's cry of "Halt" many of the men did not halt. + +In two minutes the battalion was without form and void. + +In ten minutes the permanent staff had largely re-sorted it and, to a +great extent, re-formed the original companies. + +Captain José offered his subaltern, Lieutenant Bylegharicontractor, a +hundred rupees to change places with him. + +Offer refused, with genuine and deep regret, but firmly. + +"Shall we have another try, Colonel," inquired General Murger silkily. +"Any amount of real initiative and originality about this Corps. But I +am old-fashioned enough to prefer drill-book evolutions on the +barrack-square, I confess. Er--let the Major carry on as it is getting +late." + +Colonel Dearman's face flushed a rich dark purple. His eyes protruded +till they resembled those of a crab. His red hair appeared to flame +like very fire. His lips twitched and he gasped for breath. Could he +believe his ears. "_Let the Major carry on as it is getting late_!" Let +him step into the breach "as it is getting late!" Let the more +competent, though junior, officer take over the command "as it is +getting late". Ho!--likewise Ha! This aged roué, this miserable +wine-bibbing co-respondent, with his tremulous hand and boiled eye, +thought that Colonel Dearman did not know his drill, did he? Wanted the +wretched and incompetent Pinto to carry on, did he?--as it was getting +late. + +Good! Ha! Likewise Ho! "Let Pinto carry on as it was getting late!" + +Very well! _If it cost Colonel Dearman every penny he had in the world +he would have his revenge on the insolent scoundrel_. He might think he +could insult Colonel Dearman's wife with impunity, he might think +himself entitled to cast ridicule on Colonel Dearman's Corps--but "let +the Major carry on as it is getting late!" By God that was too +much!--That was the last straw that breaks the camel's heart--and +Colonel Dearman would have his revenge or lose life, honour, and wealth +in the attempt. + +_Ha_! and, moreover, _Ho_! + +The Colonel knew his battalion-drill by heart and backwards. Was it +_his_ fault that his officers were fools and his men damn-fools? + +Major Pinto swallowed hard, blinked hard, and breathed hard. Like the +Lady of Shallott he felt that the curse had come upon him. + +"Battalion will advance. Quick march," he shouted, as a safe beginning. +But the Sergeant-Major had by this time fully explained to the sweating +Captain Trebizondi that he should have given the order "Form fours. +Left. Right wheel. Quick march," when the Colonel had announced that the +battalion would advance "in succession from the left of companies". + +Like lightning he now hurled forth the orders. "Form fours. Left. Right +wheel. Quick march.", and the battalion was soon under way with one +company in column of fours and the remaining five companies in line.... + +Time cures all troubles, and in time "A" Company was pushed and pulled +back into line again. + +The incident pleased Major Pinto as it wasted the fleeting minutes and +gave him a chance to give the only other order of which he was sure. + +"That was _oll_ wrong," said he. "We will now, however, oll advance as +'A' Company did. The arder will be 'Battalion will advance. In +succession, advance in fours from the right of companees.' Thenn each +officer commanding companees will give the arder 'Form fours. Right. +Left wheel. Quick march' one after _thee_ other." + +And the Major gave the order. + +To the surprise of every living soul upon the parade-ground the +manoeuvre was correctly executed and the battalion moved off in column +of fours. And it kept on moving. And moving. For Major Pinto had come to +the end of his tether. + +"_Do_ something, man," said Colonel Dearman with haughty scorn, after +some five minutes of strenuous tramping had told severely on the +_morale_ of the regiment. + +And Major Pinto, hoping for the best and fearing the worst, lifted up +his voice and screamed:-- + +"On the right _form battalion_!" + +Let us draw a veil. + +The adjective that General Murger used with the noun he called the +Gungapur Fusiliers is not to be printed. + +The address he made to that Corps after it had once more found itself +would have led a French or Japanese regiment to commit suicide by +companies, taking the time from the right. A Colonel of Romance Race +would have fallen on his sword at once (and borrowed something more +lethal had it failed to penetrate). + +But the corps, though not particularly British, was neither French nor +Japanese and was very glad of the rest while the General talked. And +Colonel Dearman, instead of falling on his sword, fell on General Murger +(in spirit) and swore to be revenged tenfold. + +He would have his own back, cost what it might, or his name was not +Dearman--and he was going Home on leave immediately after the Volunteer +Annual Camp of Exercise, just before General Murger retired.... + +"I shall inspect your corps in camp," General Murger had said, "and the +question of its disbandment may wait until I have done so." + +_Disbandment_! The question of the _disbandment_ of the fine and +far-famed Fusiliers of Gungapur could wait till then, could it? Well +_and_ good! Ha! and likewise Ho! + +On Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison's return from leave, Colonel Dearman +told that officer of General Murger's twofold insult--to Colonel +Dearman's wife and to Colonel Dearman's Corps. On hearing of the first, +Captain Ross-Ellison showed his teeth in a wolfish and ugly manner, and, +on hearing of the second, propounded a scheme of vengeance that made +Colonel Dearman grin and then burst into a roar of laughter. He bade +Captain Ross-Ellison dine with him and elaborate details of the scheme. + + * * * * * + +To rumours of General Murger's failing health and growing alcoholism +Colonel Dearman listened with interest--nay, satisfaction. Stories of +seizures, strokes and "goes" of _delirium tremens_ met with no rebuke +nor contradiction from him--and an air of leisured ease and unanxious +peacefulness pervaded the Gungapur Fusiliers. If any member had thought +that the sad performance of the fatal Saturday night and the winged +words of General Murger were to be the prelude to period of fierce +activity and frantic preparation, he was mistaken. It was almost as +though Colonel Dearman believed that General Murger would not live to +carry out his threat. + +The corps paraded week by week, fell in, marched round the ground and +fell out again. There was no change of routine, no increase of work, no +stress, no strain. + +All was peace, the corps was happy, and in the fullness of time (and the +absence of the Adjutant) it went to Annual Camp of Exercise a few miles +from Gungapur. And there the activities of Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison and a large band of chosen men were peculiar. While the +remainder, with whom went Colonel Dearman, the officers, and the +permanent staff, marched about in the usual manner and enjoyed the +picnic, these others appeared to be privately and secretly rehearsing a +more specialized part--to the mystification and wonder of the said +remainder. Even on the great day, the day of the Annual Inspection, this +division was maintained and the "remainder" were marched off to the +other side of the wood adjacent to the Camp, some couple of hours before +the expected arrival of the General, who would come out by train. + +The arrangement was that the horses of the General and the Brigade-Major +should await those officers at the camp station, and that, on arrival, +they would be mounted by their owners who would then ride to the camp, a +furlong distant. Near the camp a mounted orderly would meet the General +and escort him to the spot where the battalion, with Colonel Dearman at +its head, would be drawn up for his inspection. + +A large bungalow, used as the Officers' Mess, a copse, and a hillock +completely screened the spot used as the battalion parade-ground, from +the view of one approaching the Camp, and the magnificent sight of the +Gungapur Fusiliers under arms would burst upon him only when he rounded +the corner of a wall of palms, cactus, and bamboos, and entered by a +narrow gap between it and a clump of dense jungle. + + * * * * * + +General Murger was feeling distinctly bad as he sat on the edge of his +bed and viewed with the eye of disfavour the _choti hazri_[51] set forth +for his delectation. + + [51] "Little presence," early breakfast, _petit déjeuner_. + +As he intended to inspect the Volunteers in the early morning and +return to a mid-day breakfast, the _choti hazri_ was substantial, though +served on a tray in his bedroom. + +The General yawned, rubbed his eyes and grunted. + +"Eggs be demmed," said he. + +"Toast be demmed," he said. + +"Tea be demmed," he shouted. + +"_Paté de fois gras_ be demmed," shouted he. + +"Jobler! Bring me a bottle of beer," he roared. + +"No, bring me a brandy-cocktail," roared he. + +For the brandy-cocktail the General felt better for a time but he +wished, first, that his hand would not shake in such a way that +hair-brushing was difficult and shaving impossible; secondly, that the +prevailing colour of everything was not blue; thirdly, that he did not +feel giddy when he stood up; fourthly, that his head did not ache; +fifthly, that his mouth would provide some other flavour than that of a +glue-coated copper coin; sixthly, that things would keep still and his +boots cease to smile at him from the corner; seventhly, that he had not +gone to the St. Andrew's dinner last night, begun on _punch à la +Romaine_, continued on neat whisky in _quaichs_ and finished on port, +liqueurs, champagne and haphazard brandy-and-sodas, whisky-and-sodas, +and any old thing that was handy; and eighthly, that he had had a quart +of beer instead of the brandy-cocktail for _choti hazri_. + +But that could easily be remedied by having the beer now. The General +had the beer and soon wished that he hadn't, for it made him feel very +bad indeed. + +However, a man must do his dooty, ill or well, and when the +Brigade-Major sent up to remind the General that the train went at +seven, he was answered by the General himself and a hint that he was +officious. During the brief train-journey the General slumbered. + +On mounting his horse, the General was compelled to work out a little +sum. + +If one has four fingers there must be three inter-finger spaces, eh? +Granted. Then how the devil are four reins to go into three places +between four fingers, eh? Absurd idea, an' damsilly. However, till the +matter was referred to the War Office and finally settled, one could put +two reins between two fingers or pass one outside the lill' finger, +what? But the General hated compromises.... The mounted orderly met the +General, saluted and directed him to the entrance to the tree-encircled +camp and parade-ground. + +At the entrance, the General, leading, reined in so sharply as to throw +his horse on its haunches--his mouth fell open, his mottled face went +putty-coloured, and each hair that he possessed appeared to bristle. + +He uttered a deep groan, rubbed his eyes, emitted a yell, wheeled round +and galloped for dear life, with a cry, nay a scream, of "_I've got 'em +at last_," followed by his utterly bewildered but ever-faithful +Brigade-Major, who had seen nothing but foliage, scrub, and cactus. To +Gungapur the General galloped without drawing rein, took to his bed, +sent for surgeon and priest--and became a teetotaller. + +And what had he seen? + +The affair is wrapped in mystery. + +The Brigade-Major says nothing because he knows nothing, as it happens, +and the Corps declared it was never inspected. Father Ignatius knows +what the General saw, or thinks he saw, and so does the Surgeon-General, +but neither is in the habit of repeating confessions and confidences. +What Jobler, at the keyhole, understood him to say he had seen, or +thought he had seen, is not to be believed. + +Judge of it. + +"I rode into the dem place and what did I behold? A dem pandemonium, +Sir, a pantomime--a lunatic asylum, Sir--all Hell out for a Bank +Holiday, I tell you. There was a battalion of Red Indians, Negroes, +Esquimaux, Ballet Girls, Angels, Sweeps, Romans, Sailors, Pierrots, +Savages, Bogeymen, Ancient Britons, Bishops, Zulus, Pantaloons, +Beef-eaters, Tramps, Life-Guards, Washerwomen, Ghosts, Clowns and +God-knows-what, armed with jezails, umbrellas, brooms, catapults, pikes, +brickbats, _kukeries_,[52] pokers, clubs, axes, horse-pistols, bottles, +dead fowls, polo-sticks, assegais and bombs. They were commanded by a +Highlander in a bum-bee tartan kilt, top-hat and one sock, with a red +nose a foot long, riding on a rocking horse and brandishing a dem great +cucumber and a tea-tray made into a shield. There was a thundering great +drain-pipe mounted on a bullock-cart and a naked man, painted blue, in a +cocked-hat, laying an aim and firing a penny-pistol down the middle of +it and yelling 'Pip!' + + [52] Ghurka knives. + +"There was a chauffeur in smart livery on an elephant, twirling a +steering-wheel on its neck for dear life, and tooting a big motor-horn.. +There was a fat man in a fireman's helmet and pyjamas, armed with a +peashooter, riding a donkey backwards--and the moke wore two pairs of +trousers!... As I rubbed my poor old eyes, the devil in command howled +'General salaam. Pre_sent_-legs'--and every fiend there fell flat on his +face and raised his right leg up behind--I tell you, Sir, I fled for my +life, and--no more liquor for me." ... + +When ex-Colonel Dearman heard any reference to this mystery he roared +with laughter--but it was the Last Muster of the fine and far-famed +Gungapur Fusiliers, as such. + +The Corps was disbanded forthwith and re-formed on a different basis (of +quality instead of quantity) with Lieutenant-Colonel John Robin +Ross-Ellison, promoted, in command--he having caught the keen eye of +that splendid soldier and gentleman Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur +Barnet, K.C.V.O., K.C.S.I. (G.O.C., XVIth Division), as being the very +man for the job of re-organizing the Corps, and making it worth its +capitation-grant. + +"If I could get Captain Malet-Marsac as Adjutant and a Sergeant-Major of +whom I know (used to be at Duri--man named Lawrence-Smith) I'd undertake +to show you something, Sir, in a year or two," said Lieutenant-Colonel +Ross-Ellison. + +"Malet-Marsac you can certainly have," replied Sir Arthur Barnet. "I'll +speak to your new Brigadier. If you can find your Lawrence-Smith we'll +see what can be done." ... + +And Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison wrote to Sergeant-Major +Lawrence-Smith of the Duri Volunteer Rifles to know if he would like a +transfer upon advantageous terms, and got no reply. + +As it happened, Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison, in very different +guise, had seen Sergeant Lawrence-Smith extricate and withdraw his +officerless company from the tightest of tight places (on the Border) in +a manner that moved him to large admiration. It had been a case of "and +even the ranks of Tuscany" on the part of Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan +Ilderim Dost Mahommed.... Later he had encountered him and Captain +Malet-Marsac at Duri. + + + +§ 3. SERGEANT-MAJOR LAWRENCE-SMITH. + + +Mrs. Pat Dearman was sceptical. + +"Do you mean to tell me that _you_, a man of science, an eminent medical +man, and a soldier, believe in the supernatural?" + +"Well, you see, I'm 'Oirish' and therefore unaccountable," replied +Colonel Jackson (of the Royal Army Medical Corps), fine doctor, fine +scholar, and fine gentleman. + +"And you believe in haunted houses and ghosts and things, do you? +_Well_!" + +The salted-almond dish was empty, and Mrs. Dearman accused her other +neighbour, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison. Having already prepared to meet +and rebut the charge of greediness he made passes over the vessel and it +was replenished. + +"Supernatural!" said she. + +"Most," said he. + +She prudently removed the dish to the far side of her plate--and +Colonel Jackson emptied it. + +Not having prepared to meet the request to replenish the store a second +time, it was useless for Mr. Ross-Ellison to make more passes when +commanded so to do. + +"The usual end of the 'supernatural,'" observed Mrs. Dearman with +contempt. + +"Most usual," said he. + +"More than 'most,'" corrected Mrs. Dearman. "It is the invariable end of +it, I believe. Just humbug and rubbish. It is either an invention, pure +and simple, or else it is perfectly explicable. Don't you think so, +Colonel Jackson?" + +"Not always," said her partner. "Now, will you, first, believe my word, +and, secondly, find the explanation--if I tell you a perfectly true +'supernatural' story?" + +"I'll certainly believe your word, Colonel, if you're serious, and I'll +try and suggest an explanation if you like," replied Mrs. Dearman. + +"Same to me, Mrs. Dearman?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. "I've had +'experiences' too--and can tell you one of them." + +"Same to you, Mr. Ross-Ellison," replied Mrs. Dearman, and added: "But +why only one of them?" + +Mr. Ross-Ellison smiled, glanced round the luxuriously appointed table +and the company of fair women and brave men--and thought of a +far-distant and little-known place called Mekran Kot and of a phantom +cavalry corps that haunted a valley in its vicinity. + +"Only one worth telling," said he. + +"Well,--first case," began Colonel Jackson, "I was once driving past a +cottage on my way home from College (in Ireland), and I saw the old lady +who lived in that cottage come out of the door, cross her bit of garden, +go through a gate, scuttle over the railway-line and enter a fenced +field that had belonged to her husband, and which she (and a good many +other people) believed rightly belonged to her. + +"'There goes old Biddy Maloney pottering about in that plot of ground +again,' thinks I. 'She's got it on the brain since her law-suit.' I knew +it was Biddy, of course, not only because of her coming out of Biddy's +house, but because it was Biddy's figure, walk, crutch-stick, and +patched old cloak. When I got home I happened to say to Mother: 'I saw +poor old Biddy Maloney doddering round that wretched field as I came +along'. + +"'What?' said my mother, 'why, your father was called to her, as she was +dying, hours ago, and she's not been out of her bed for weeks.' When my +father came in, I learned that Biddy was dead an hour before I saw +her--before I left the railway station in fact! What do you make of +that? Is there any 'explanation'?" + +"Some other old lady," suggested Mrs. Dearman. + +"No. There was nobody else in those parts mistakable for Biddy Maloney, +and no other old woman was in or near the house while my father was +there. We sifted the matter carefully. It was Biddy Maloney and no one +else." + +"Auto-suggestion. Visualization on the retina of an idea in the mind. +Optical illusion," hazarded Mrs. Dearman. + +"No good. I hadn't realized I was approaching Biddy Maloney's cottage +until I saw her coming out of it and I certainly hadn't thought of Biddy +Maloney until my eye fell upon her. And it's a funny optical illusion +that deceives one into seeing an old lady opening gates, crossing +railways and limping away into fenced fields." + +"H'm! What was the other case?" asked Mrs. Dearman, turning to Mr. +Ross-Ellison. + +"That happened here in India at a station called Duri, away in the +Northern Presidency, where I was then--er--living for a time. On the day +after my arrival I went to call on Malet-Marsac to whom I had letters of +introduction--political business--and, as he was out, but certain to +return in a minute or two from Parade, I sat me down in a comfortable +chair in the verandah----" + +"And went to sleep?" interrupted Mrs. Dearman. + +'"I _nevah_ sleep,'" quoted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and I had no time, if any +inclination. Scarcely indeed had I seated myself, and actually while I +was placing my _topi_ on an adjacent stool, a lady emerged from a +distant door at the end of the verandah and walked towards me. I can +tell you I was mighty surprised, for not only was Captain Malet-Marsac a +lone bachelor and a misogynist of blameless life, but the lady looked as +though she had stepped straight out of an Early Victorian +phonograph-album. She had on a crinoline sort of dress, a deep lace +collar, spring-sidey sort of boots, mittens, and a huge cameo brooch. +Also she had long ringlets. Her face is stamped on my memory and I +could pick her out from a hundred women similarly dressed, or her +picture from a hundred others...." + +"What did you do?" asked Mrs. Dearman, whose neglected ice-pudding was +fast being submerged in a pink lake of its own creation. + +"Do? Nothing. I grabbed my _topi_, stood up, bowed--and looked silly." + +"And what did the lady do?" + +"Came straight on, taking no notice whatsoever of me, until she reached +the steps leading into the porch and garden.... She passed down these +and out of my sight.... That is the plain statement of an actual fact. +Have you any 'explanation' to offer?" + +"Well--what about a lady staying there, unexpectedly and unbeknownst (to +the station), trying on a get-up for a Fancy Dress Ball. Going as 'My +ancestress' or something?" suggested Mrs. Dearman. + +"Exactly what I told myself, though I _knew_ it was nothing of the +kind.... Well, five minutes later Malet-Marsac rode up the drive and we +were soon fraternizing over cheroots and cold drinks.... As I was +leaving, an idea struck me, and I saw a way to ask a question--which was +burning my tongue,--without being too rudely inquisitive. + +"'By the way,' said I, 'I fear I did not send in the right number of +visiting cards, but they told me there was no lady here, so I only sent +in one--for you.' + +"'There _is_ no lady here,' he replied, eyeing me queerly. 'What made +you think you had been misinformed?' + +"'Well,' said I bluntly, 'a lady came out of the end room just now, +walked down the verandah, and went out into the garden. You'd better +see if anything is missing as she's not an inhabitant!' + +"'No--there won't be anything missing,' he replied. 'Did she wear a +crinoline and a general air of last century?' + +"'She did,' said I. + +"'Our own private ghost,' was the answer--and it was the sort of +statement I had anticipated. Now I solemnly assure you that at that time +I had never heard, read, nor dreamed that there was a 'ghost' in this +bungalow, nor in Duri--nor in the whole Northern Presidency for that +matter.... + +"'What's the story?' I asked, of course. + +"'Mutiny. 1857,' said Malet-Marsac. 'Husband shot on the parade-ground. +She got the news and marched straight to the spot. They cut her in +pieces as she held his body in her arms. Lots of people have seen +her--anywhere between that room and the parade-ground.' + +"'Then you have to believe in ghosts--in Duri, or how do you account for +it?' I asked. + +"'I don't bother my head,' he replied. 'But I have seen that poor lady a +good many times. And no one told me a word about her until after I had +seen her.'" + +And then Mrs. Dearman suddenly rose, as her hostess "caught" the +collective female eye of the table. + +"Was all that about the 'ghosts' of the old Irishwoman and the Early +Victorian Lady true, you fellows?" asked John Bruce, the Professor of +Engineering, after coffee, cigars and the second glass of port had +reconciled the residue or sediment to the departure of the sterner sex. + +"Didn't you hear me say my story was true?" replied Colonel Jackson +brusquely. "It was absolutely and perfectly true." + +"Same here," added Mr. Ross-Ellison. + +"Then on two separate occasions you two have seen what you can only +believe to be the ghosts of dead people?" + +"On one occasion I have, without any possibility of error or doubt, seen +the ghost of a dead person," said Colonel Jackson. + +"Have you ever come across any other thoroughly substantiated cases of +ghost-seeing--cases which have really convinced you, Colonel?" queried +Mr. Ross-Ellison--being deeply interested in the subject by reason of +queer powers and experiences of his own. + +"Yes. Many in which I fully believe, and one about which I am _certain_. +A very interesting case--and a very cruel tragedy." + +"Would you mind telling me about it?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. + +"Pleasure. More--I'll give you as interesting and convincing a 'human +document' about it as ever you read, if you like." + +"I shall be eternally grateful," replied the other. + +"It was a sad and sordid business. The man, whose last written words +I'll give you to read, was a Sergeant-Major in the Volunteer Rifles +(also at Duri where I was stationed, as you know) and he was a gentleman +born and bred, poor chap." ["Lawrence-Smith," murmured Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison with an involuntary movement of surprise. His eyebrows rose +and his jaw fell.] "Yes, he was that rare bird a gentleman-ranker who +remained a gentleman and a ranker--and became a fine soldier. He called +himself Lawrence-Smith and owned a good old English name that you'd +recognize if I mentioned it--and you'd be able to name some of his +relatives too. He was kicked out of Sandhurst for striking one of the +subordinate staff under extreme provocation. The army was in his blood +and bones, and he enlisted." + +"Excuse me," interrupted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "you speak of this +Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith in the past tense. Is he dead then?" + +"He is dead," replied Colonel Jackson. "Did you know him?" + +"I believe I saw him at Duri," answered Mr. Ross-Ellison with an +excellent assumption of indifference. "What's the story?" + +"I'll give you his own tale on paper--let me have it back--and, mind +you, every single word of it is Gospel truth. The man was a _gentleman_, +an educated, thoughtful, sober chap, and as sane as you or I. I got to +know him well--he was in hospital, with blood-poisoning from +panther-bite, for a time--and we became friends. Actual friends, I mean. +Used to play golf with him. (You remember the Duri Links.) In mufti, +you'd never have dreamed for a moment that he was not a Major or a +Colonel. Army life had not coarsened him in the slightest, and he kept +some lounge-suits and mess-kit by Poole. Many a good Snob of my +acquaintance has left my house under the impression that the +Lawrence-Smith he had met there, and with whom he had been +hail-fellow-well-met, was his social equal or superior. + +"He simply was a refined and educated gentleman and that's all there is +about it. Well--you'll read his statement--and, as you read, you may +tell yourself that I am as convinced of its truth as I am of anything in +this world.... He was dead when I got to him. + +"The stains, on the backs of some of the sheets and on the front of the +last one, are--blood stains...." + +And at this point their host suggested the propriety of joining the +ladies.... + +Colonel Jackson gave Mr. Ross-Ellison a "lift" in his powerful motor as +far as his bungalow, entered, and a few minutes later emerged with a +long and fat envelope. + +"Here you are," said he. "I took it upon myself to annex the papers as I +was his friend. Let's have 'em back. No need for me to regard them as +'private and confidential' so far as I can see, poor chap. Good-night." + +Having achieved the haven of loose Pathan trousers and a muslin shirt +(worn over them) in the privacy of his bed-room, Mr. Ross-Ellison, +looking rather un-English, sat on a camp-cot (he never really liked +chairs) and read, as follows, from a sheaf of neatly-written (and +bloodstained) sheets of foolscap. + + * * * * * + +I have come to the point at which I decide to stop. I have had enough. +But I should like to ask one or two questions. + +1. Why has a man no right to quit a world in which he no longer desires +to live? 2. Why should Evil be allowed to triumph? 3. Why should people +who cannot see spirit forms be so certain that such do not exist, when +none but an ignorant fool argues, "I believe in what I can see"? + +With regard to the first question I maintain that a man has a perfect +right to "take" the life that was "given" him (without his own consent +or desire), provided it is not an act of cowardice nor an evasion of +just punishment or responsibility. I would add--provided also that he +does not, in so doing, basely desert his duty, those who are in any way +dependent on him, or those who really love him. + +I detest that idiotic phrase "while of unsound mind". I am as sound in +mind as any man living, but because I end an unbearable state of +affairs, and take the only step I can think of as likely to give me +peace--I shall be written down mad. Moreover should I fail--in my +attempt to kill myself (which I shall not) I should be prosecuted as a +criminal! + +To me, albeit I have lived long under strict discipline and regard true +discipline as the first essential of moral, physical, mental, and social +training, to me it seems a gross and unwarrantable interference with the +liberty of the individual--to deny him sufficient captaincy of his soul +for him to be free to control it at the dictates of his conscience, and +to keep it Here or to send it There as may seem best. Surely the +implanted love of life and fear of death are sufficient safeguards +without any legislation or insolent arrogant interference between a man +and his own ego? Anyhow, such are my views, and in perfect soundness of +mind and body, after mature reflection and with full confidence in my +right so to do, I am about to end my life here. + +As to the second question, "Why should Evil be allowed to triumph?" I +confess that my mind cannot argue in a circle and say, "You are born +full of Original Sin, and if you sin you are Damned"--a vicious circle +drawn for me by the gloomy, haughty, insincere and rather unintelligent +young gentleman whom I respectfully salute as Chaplain, and who regards +me and every other non-commissioned soldier as a Common, if not Low, +person. + +He would not even answer my queries by means of the good old loop-hole, +"It is useless to appeal to Reason if you cannot to Faith" and so beg +the question. He said that things _were_ because the Lord said they +were, and that it was impious to doubt it. More impious was it, I +gathered, to doubt him, and to allude to Criticisms he had never read. + +His infallible "proof" was "It is in the Bible". + +Possibly I shall shortly know why an Omnipotent, Omniscient, Impeccable +Deity allows this world to be the Hell it is, even if there be no actual +Hell for the souls of his errant Creatures (in spite of the statements +of the Chaplain who appears to have exclusive information on the +subject, inaccessible to laymen, and to rest peacefully assured of a +Real Hell for the wicked,--nonconforming, and vulgar). + +At present I cannot understand and I do not know--though I am informed +and infused with a burning and reverent desire to understand and to +know--why Evil should be allowed to triumph, as in my own case, as well +as in those of millions of others, it does. And thirdly, why does the +man who would never deny beauty in a poem or picture because he failed +to see it while others did, deny that immaterial forms of the dead +exist, because he has never seen one, though others have? + +I know of so many many men who would blush to be called +"I-believe-what-I-see men," who yet laugh to scorn the bare idea of the +materialization and visualization of visitants from the spirit world, +because they have never seen one. I have so often met the argument, "The +ghost of a man I might conceive--but I can _not_ conceive the appearance +of the ghost of a pair of trousers or of a top-hat," offered as though +it were unanswerable. Surely the spirit, aura, shade, ghost, soul, +ego--what you will--can permeate and penetrate and pervade clothing and +other matter as well as flesh? + +Well, once again, I do not know,--and yet I have seen, not once +but repeatedly, not by moonlight in a churchyard, but under the +Indian sun on a parade-ground, the ghost of a man _and of all his +accoutrements,--of a rifle, of a horse and all a horse's trappings_. + +I have been a teetotaller for years, I have never had sunstroke and I am +as absolutely sane as ever a man was. + +And further I am in no sense remorseful, repentant, or "dogged by the +spectre of an evil deed". + +I killed Burker intentionally. Were he alive again I would kill him +again. I punished him myself because the law could not punish him as he +deserved, and I in no way regret or deplore my just and judicial action. +There are deeds a gentleman must resent and punish--with the extreme +penalty. No, it is in no sense a case of the self-tormented wretch +driven mad by the awful hallucinations of his guilty, unhinged mind. I +am no haunted murderer pursued by phantoms and illusions, believing +himself always in the presence of his victim's ghost. + +All people who have read anything, have read of the irresistible +fascination that the scene of the murder has for the murderer, of the +way in which the victim "haunts" the slayer, and of how the truth that +"murder will out" is really based on the fact that the murderer is his +own most dangerous accuser by reason of his life of terror, remorse, and +terrible hallucination. + +My case is in no wise parallel. + +I am absolutely without fear, regret, remorse, repentance, dread or +terror in the matter of my killing Sergeant Burker. Exactly how and why +I killed him, and how and why I am about to kill myself, I will now set +forth, without the slightest exaggeration, special pleading or any other +deviation from the truth.... + +I am to my certain knowledge the eighth consecutive member of my family, +in the direct line, to follow the profession of arms, but am the first +to do so without bearing a commission. My father died young in the rank +of Captain, my grandfather led his own regiment in the Crimea, my +great-grandfather was a Lieutenant-General, and, if I told you my real +name, you could probably state something that he did at Waterloo. + +I went to Sandhurst and I was expelled from Sandhurst--very rightly and +justly--for an offence, or rather the culminating offence of a series of +offences, that were everything but mean, dishonest or underhand. I was +wild, hasty, undisciplined and I was lost for want of a father to thrash +me as a boy, and by possession of a most loving and devoted mother who +worshipped, spoiled--and ruined me. + +I enlisted under an assumed name in my late father's (and +grandfather's) old Regiment of Foot and quickly rose to the rank of +Sergeant-Major. + +I might have had a commission in South Africa but I decided that I +preferred ruling in hell to serving in heaven, and declined to be a +grey-haired Lieutenant and a nuisance to the Officers' Mess of the Corps +I would not leave until compelled. + +In time I _was_ compelled and I became Sergeant-Major of the Volunteer +Rifle Corps here and husband of a--well--_de mortuis nil nisi bonum_. + +Why I married I don't know. + +The English girl of the class from which soldiers are drawn never +attracted me in the very least, and I simply could not have married one, +though a paragon of virtue and compendium of housewifely qualities. + +Admirable and pretty as Miss Higgs, Miss Bloggs, or Miss Muggins might +be, my youthful training prevented my seeing beyond her fringe, +finger-nails, figure, and aspirates, to her solid excellences;--and from +sergeants'-dances I returned quite heart-whole and still unplighted to +the Colonel's cook. But Dolores De Souza was different. + +There was absolutely nothing to offend the most fastidious taste in her +speech, appearance, or manners. She was convent-bred, accomplished, +refined, gentle, worthless and wicked. The good Sisters of the Society +of the Broken Heart had polished the exterior of the Eurasian orphan +very highly--but the polish was a thin veneer on very cheap and +unseasoned wood. + +It is a strange fact that, while I could respect the solid virtues of +the aspirateless Misses Higgs, Bloggs or Muggins, I could never have +married one of them; yet, while I knew Dolores to be a heartless flirt, +and more than suspected her to be of most unrigid principle, I was +infatuated with her dark beauty, her grace, her wiles and witchery--and +asked her to become my wife. + +The good Sisters of the Society of the Broken Heart had taught Dolores +to sing beautifully, to play upon the piano and the guitar, to +embroider, to paint mauve roses on pink tambourines and many other +useful arts, graces and accomplishments--but they had not taught her +_practical_ morality nor anything of cooking, marketing, plain sewing, +house-cleaning or anything else of house-keeping. However, having been +bred as I had been bred, I could take the form and let the substance go, +accept the shapely husks and shout not for the grain, and prefer a +pretty song, and a rose in black hair over a shell-like ear, to a square +meal. I fear the average Sergeant-Major would have beaten Dolores within +a week of matrimony, but I strove to make loss, discomfort, and +disappointment a discipline,--and music, silk dresses and daintiness an +aesthetic re-training to a barrack-blunted mind. + +In justice to Dolores I should make it clear that she was not of the +slatternly, dirty, lazy, half-breed type that pigs in a _peignoir_ from +twelve to twelve and snores again from midnight to midday. She was trim +and dainty, used good perfume or none, rose early and went in the +garden, loathed cheap and showy trash whether in dress, jewellery, or +furniture; and was incapable of wearing fine shoes over holey stockings +or a silk gown over dirty linen. No--there was nothing to offend the +fastidious about Dolores, but there was everything to offend the good +house-keeper and the moralist. + +Frequently she would provide no dinner in order that we might be +compelled to dine in public at a restaurant or a hotel, a thing she +loved to do, and she would often send out for costly sweets and pastry, +drink champagne (very moderately, I admit), and generally behave as +though she were the wife of a man of means. + +And she was an arrant, incorrigible, shameless flirt. + +Well--I do not know that a virtuous vulgar dowd is preferable to a +wicked winsome witch of refined habits and person, and I should probably +have gone quietly on to bankruptcy without any row or rupture, but for +Burker. Having been bred in a "gentle" home I naturally took the +attitude of "as you please, my dear Dolores" and refrained from bullying +when quiet indication of the inevitable end completely failed. Whether +she intended to act in a reasonable manner and show some wifely traits +when my £250 of legacy and savings was quite dissipated I do not know. +Burker came before that consummation. + +A number of gentlemen joined the Duri Volunteer Corps and formed a +Mounted Infantry troop, and, though I am a good horseman, I was not +competent to train the troop, as I had never enjoyed any experience of +mounted military work of any kind. So Sergeant Burker, late of the 54th +Lancers, was transferred to Duri as Instructor of the Mounted Infantry +Troop. Naturally I did what I could to make him comfortable and, till +his bungalow was furnished after a fashion, gave him our spare room. + +Sergeant Barker was the ideal Cavalryman and the ideal breaker of +hearts,--hearts of the Mary-Ann and Eliza-Jane order. + +He was a black-haired, blue-eyed Irishman with a heart as black as his +hair, and language as blue as his eye--a handsome, plausible, selfish, +wicked devil with scarcely a virtue but pride and high courage. I +disliked him at first sight, and Dolores fell in love with him equally +quickly, I am sure. + +I don't think he had a solitary gentlemanly instinct. + +Being desirous of learning Mounted Infantry work, I attended all his +drills, riding as troop-leader, and, between close attention to him and +close study of the drill-book, did not let the gentlemen in the ranks +know that, in the beginning, I knew as little about it as they did. + +And an uncommonly good troop he soon made of it, too. + +Of course it was excellent material, all good riders and good shots, and +well horsed. + +Burker and I were mounted by the R.H.A. Battery here, and the three +drills we held, weekly, were seasons of delight to a horse-lover like +myself. + +Now the horse I had was a high-spirited, powerful animal, and he +possessed the trait, very common among horses, of hating to be pressed +behind the saddle. Turning to look behind while "sitting-easy" one day I +rested my right hand on his back behind the saddle and he immediately +lashed out furiously with both hind legs. I did not realize for the +moment what was upsetting him--but quickly discovered that I had only to +press his back to send his hoofs out like stones from a sling. I then +remembered other similar cases and that I had also read of this curious +fact about horses--something to do with pressure on the kidneys I +believe. + +One day Burker was unexpectedly absent and I took the drill, finding +myself quite competent and _au fait_. + +The same evening I went to my wife's wardrobe, she being out, to try and +find the keys of the sideboard. I knew they frequently reposed in the +pocket of her dressing-gown. + +In the said pocket they were--and so was a letter in the crude large +handwriting of Sergeant Burker. + +I did not read it, but I did not see the necessity of a correspondence +between my wife and such a man as I knew Sergeant Burker to be. They met +often enough, in all conscience, to say what they might have to say to +each other. + +At dinner I remarked casually: "I shouldn't enter into a correspondence +with Burker if I were you, Dolly. His reputation isn't over savoury +and--" but, before I could say more, my wife was literally screaming +with rage, calling me "Spy," "Liar," "Coward," and demanding to know +what I insinuated and of what I accused her. I replied that I had +accused her of nothing at all, and merely offered advice in the matter +of correspondence with Burker. I explained how I had come to find the +letter and stated that I had not read it. + +"Then how do you know that we--" she began, and suddenly stopped. + +"That you--what?" I inquired. + +"Nothing," she said. + +At the next Sergeants' Dance at the Institute I did not like Burker's +manner to my wife at all. It was--well, amorous, and tinged with a shade +of proprietorship. I distinctly heard him call her "Dolly," and equally +distinctly saw an expressively affectionate look in her eyes as he +hugged her in the waltzes--whereof they indulged in no less than five. + +My position was awkward and unpleasant. I loathe a row or a scene +unspeakably--though I delight in fighting when that pastime is +legitimate--and I was brought into daily contact with the ruffian and I +disliked him intensely. + +I was very averse from the course of forbidding him the house and thus +insulting my wife by implication--since she obviously enjoyed his +society--and descending to pit myself against the greasy cad in a +struggle for a woman's favour, and that woman my own wife. Nor could I +conscientiously take the line of, "If she desires to go to the Devil let +her," for a man has as much responsibility for his wife as for his +children, and it is equally his duty to guide and control her and them. +Women may vote and may legislate for men--but on men they will ever +depend and rely. + +No, the position of carping, jealous husband was one that I could not +fill, and I determined to say nothing, do nothing and be +watchful--watchful, that is, to avoid exposing her to temptation. I did +my best, but I was away from home a good deal, visiting the out-station +detachments of the Corps. + +Then, one day, the wretched creature I called "butler" came to me with +an air of great mystery and said: "Sahib, Sergeant Burker Sahib sending +Mem Sahib bundle of flowers and _chitti_[53] inside and diamond ring +yesterday. His boy telling me and I seeing. He often coming here too +when Sahib out. Both wicked peoples." + + [53] Note. + +I raised my hand to knock his lies down his throat--and dropped it. They +were not lies, I knew, and the fellow had been faithful to me for many +years and--the folly of childish human vanity--I felt he knew I was a +"gentleman," and I liked him for it. + +I paid him his wages then and there, gave him a present and a good +testimonial and discharged him. He wept real tears and shook with sobs +of grief--easy grief, but very genuine. + +When Dolores came home from the Bandstand I said quietly: "Show me the +jewellery Burker sent you, Dolly. I am very much in earnest, so don't +bluster." + +She seemed about to faint and looked very frightened--perhaps my face +was more expressive than a gentleman's should be. + +"It was only a little thing for my birthday," she whined. "Can't I keep +it? Don't be a tyrant or a fool." + +"Your next birthday or your last?" I asked. "Please get it at once. +We'll settle matters quietly and finally." + +I fear the poor girl had visions of the doorstep and a closed door. Two, +perhaps, for I am sure Burker would not have taken her in if I had +turned her out, and she may have thought the same. + +It was a diamond ring, and the scoundrel must have given a couple of +months' pay for it--if he had paid for it at all. I thrust aside the +sudden conviction that Burker's own taste could not have been +responsible for its choice and that it was selected by my wife. + +"Why should he give you this, Dolores?" I asked. "Will you tell me or +must I go to him?" And then she burst into tears and flung herself at my +feet, begging for mercy. + +Mercy! + +_Qui s'excuse s'accuse_. + +What should I do? + +To cast her out was to murder her soul quickly and her body slowly, and +I could foresee her career with prophetic eye and painful clearness. + +And what could the Law do for me? + +Publish our shame and perhaps brand me that wretched thing--the +willingly deceived and complaisant husband. + +What could I do by challenging Burker? + +He was a champion man-at-arms, a fine boxer, and a younger, stronger +man, I should merely experience humiliation and defeat. What _could_ I +do? + +If I said, "Go and live with your Burker," I should be committing a +bigger crime than hers, for if he did take her in, it would not be for +long. + +I sat the night through, pondered the question carefully, looked at it +from all points of view and--decided that Burker must die. Also that he +must not drag me to jail or the scaffold as he went to his doom. If I +shot him and was punished, Dolores would become a--well, as I have said, +her soul would die quickly and her body slowly. I had married Dolores +and I must do what lay in my power to protect Dolores. But I simply +could not kill the hound in some stealthy secret manner and wait for +the footsteps of warrant-armed police for the rest of my life. + +What could I do? Or rather--for the question had narrowed to that--how +could I kill him? + +And as the sun struck upon my eyes at dawn, an idea struck upon my mind. + +I would leave it to Fate and if Fate willed it so, Burker should die. + +_If Burker stood behind my charger, Fate sat with down-turned thumb_. + +I would not seek the opportunity--but, by God, I would take it if it +offered. + +If it did not, I would go to Burker and say to him quietly: "Burker, you +must leave this station at once and never see or communicate with my +wife in any way. Otherwise I have to kill you, Burker--to execute you, +you understand." ... + +A native syce from the Artillery lines led my charger into the little +compound of my tiny bungalow. + +Having buckled on my belt I went out, patted him, and gave him a lump of +sugar. He nuzzled me for more, and, as he did so, I placed my hand on +his back, behind the saddle, and pressed. He lashed out wildly. + +I then trotted across the _maidan_[54] to the Volunteer Headquarters and +parade-ground. + + [54] Plain; level tract of ground. + +Several gentlemen of the Mounted Infantry were waiting about, some +standing by their horses, some getting bandoliers, belts, and rifles, +some cantering their horses round the ground. + +Sergeant Burker strode out of the Orderly Boom. + +"Morning, Smith," said he. "How's the Missus?" + +I looked him in the eye and made no reply. + +He laughed, as jeering, evil, and caddish a laugh as I have ever heard. +I almost forgot my purpose and had actually turned toward the armoury +for a rifle and cartridge when I remembered and controlled my rage. + +If I shot him, then and there, I must go to the scaffold or to jail +forthwith, and Dolores must inevitably go to a worse fate. Had I been +sure that she could have kept straight, Burker would have been shot, +then and there. + +"Fall in," he shouted, but did not mount his horse. + +The gentlemen assembled with their horses and faced him in line, +dismounted, I in front of the centre of the troop. How clearly I can see +every feature and detail of that morning's scene, and hear every word +and sound. + +"Tell off by sections," commanded Burker. + +"One, two, three, four--one, two, three, four...." + +There were exactly six sections. + +"Flanks of sections, proof." + +"Section leaders, proof." + +"Centre man, proof." + +"Prepare to mount." + +"Mount." + +"Sections right." + +"Sections left." + +The last two words were the last words Burker ever spoke. Passing on +foot along the line of mounted men, to inspect saddlery, accoutrements, +and the adjustment of rifle-buckets and slings, he halted immediately +behind me, where I sat on my charger in front of the centre of the +troop. + +I could not have placed him more exactly with my own hands. _Fate sat +with down-pointing thumb_. + +Turning round, as though to look at the troop, I rested my hand on my +horse's back--just behind the saddle--and pressed hard. He lashed out +with both hoofs and Sergeant Burker dropped--and never moved again. + +The base of his skull was smashed like an egg, and his back was broken +like a dry stick.... + +The terrible accident roused wide sympathy with the unfortunate man, the +local reporter used all his adjectives, and a military funeral was given +to the soldier who had died in the execution of his duty. + +On reaching home, after satisfying myself at the Station Hospital that +the man was dead, I said to my poor, pale and red-eyed wife:-- + +"Dolores, Sergeant Burker met with an accident this morning on parade. +He is dead. Let us never refer to him again." + +She fainted. + +I spent that night also in meditation, questioning myself and examining +my soul--with every honest endeavour to be not a self-deceiver. + +I came to the conclusion that I had acted rightly and in the only way in +which a gentleman could act. I had snatched Dolores from his foul +clutches, I had punished him without depriving Dolores of my protection, +and I had avenged the stain on my honour. + +"You have committed a treacherous cowardly murder," whispered the Fiend +in my ear. + +"You are a liar," I replied. "I did not fear the man and I took this +course solely on account of Dolores. I was strong enough to accept this +position--and to risk the accusation of murder, from my conscience, from +the Devil, or from man." + +Any doubt I might otherwise have had was forestalled and inhibited by +the obvious Fate that placed Burker in the one spot favourable to my +scheme of punishment. + +God had willed it? + +God had not prevented it. + +Surely God was consenting unto it.... + +And Dolores? I would forgive her and offer her the choice of remaining +with me or leaving me and receiving a half of my income and +possessions--both alternatives being contingent upon good conduct. + +At dawn I prepared tea for her, and entered our bedroom. Dolores had +wound a towel round her neck, twisted the ends tightly--and suffocated +herself. + +She had been dead for hours.... + +At the police inquiry, held the same day, I duly lied as to the virtues +of the "deceased," and the utter impossibility of assigning any reason +for the rash and deplorable act. The usual smug stereotyped verdict was +pronounced, and, in addition to expressing their belief that the suicide +was committed "while of unsound mind," the officials expressed much +sympathy with the bereaved husband. + +Dolores was buried that evening and I returned to an empty house. + +I believe opinion had been divided as to whether I was callous or +"stunned"--but the sight of her little shoes caused pains in my throat +and eyes. Had Burker been then alive I would have killed him with my +hands--and teeth. Yes, teeth. + +I spent that night in packing every possession and trace of Dolores into +her boxes, and then in trying to persuade myself that I should have +acted differently. + +I could not do so. I had acted for the best--so let God who gave me +free-will, intelligence, conscience and opportunity, approve the deed or +take the blame. + +And let God remember how that opportunity came so convincingly--so +impellingly--and if He would judge me and ask for my defence I would ask +him who sent Burker here, and who placed him on that fatal spot? + +Does God sit only in judgment? + +Does God calmly watch His creatures walking blindfold to the +Pit--struggling to tear away the bandage as they walk? Can He only +judge, and can He never help? + +"_Pray_?" + +Is God a petty-minded "jealous" God to be propitiated like the gods of +the heathen? + +Must we continually ask, or, not asking, not receive? + +And if we know not to ask aright and to demand the best and highest? + +Cannot the well-fed, well-read, well-paid Chaplain give advice? + +"_God knoweth best. Ask unceasingly. Pray always_." + +_Why_?--if. He knows best, is All Merciful, All Powerful? + +"_Praise_?" + +Is God a child, a savage, a woman? Shall I offer adulation that would +sicken _me_. + +"_God is our Father which art in heaven_." + +Would I have my son praise me to my face continually--or at all. Would I +compel him to pester me with demands for what he desired,--good, bad and +indifferent? + +And would I give him what he asked regardless of what was best for +him--or say, "If you ask not, you receive not?" Give me a God finer and +greater and juster and nobler than myself--something higher than the +Chaplain's jealous, capricious, inconsequent and illogical God. +Anthropomorphism! + +Is there a God at all? + +I shall soon know. + +If so-- + + Oh Thou, who man of baser earth didst make + And ev'n with Paradise devised the Snake, + For all the Sin the face of wretched man + Is black with--Man's forgiveness give--and take! + +At dawn I said aloud:-- + +"This Chapter is closed. The story of Burker and Dolores is written. I +may now strive to forget." + +I was wrong. + +Major Jackson of the R.A.M.C. came to see me soon after daylight. He +gave me an opiate and I slept all that day and night. I went on parade +next morning, fresh, calm, and cool--and saw _Burker riding toward the +group of gentlemen who were awaiting the signal to "fall in"_. + +I say I was fresh, calm, and cool. + +I was. + +And there was Burker--looking exactly as in life, save for a slight +nebulosity, a very faint vagueness of outline, and a hint of +transparency. + +I had been instructed by the Adjutant to assume the post of Instructor +(as the end of the Mounted Infantry drill season was near)--and I blew +the "rally" on my whistle as many of the gentlemen were riding about, +and shouted the command: "Fall in". + +Twenty living men and one dead faced me, twenty dismounted and one +mounted. I called the corporal in charge of the armoury. + +"How many on parade?" I asked. + +He looked puzzled, counted, and said:-- + +"Why--twenty, ain't there?" + +I numbered the troop. + +Twenty--and Burker. + +"Tell off by sections." + +Five sections--and Burker. + +"Sections right." + +A column of five sections--and Burker, in the rear. + +I called out the section-leader of Number One section. + +"Are the sections correctly proved?" I asked, and added: "Put the troop +back in line and tell-off again". + +"Five sections, correct," he reported. + +I held that drill, with five sections of living men, and a single file +of dead, who manoeuvred to my word. + +When I gave the order "With Numbers Three for action dismount," or +"Right-hand men, for action dismount," Burker remained mounted. When I +dismounted the whole troop, Burker remained mounted. Otherwise he +drilled precisely as Number Twenty-one would have drilled in a troop of +twenty-one men. + +Was I frightened? I do not know. + +At first my heart certainly pounded as though it would leap from my +body, and I felt dazed, lost, and shocked. + +I think I _was_ frightened--not of Burker so much as of the unfamiliar, +the unknown, the impossible. + +How would you feel if your piano suddenly began to play of itself? You +would be alarmed and afraid probably, not frightened of the piano, but +of the fact. + +A door could not frighten you--but you would surely be alarmed at its +persistently opening, each time you shut, locked, and bolted it, if it +acted thus. + +Of Burker I had no fear--but I was perturbed by the _fact_ that the dead +could ride with the living. + +When I gave the order "Dismiss" at the end of the parade Burker rode +away, as he had always done, in the direction of his bungalow. + +Returning to my lonely house, I sat me down and pondered this appalling +event that had come like a torrent, sweeping away familiar landmarks of +experience, idea, and belief. I was conscious of a dull anger against +Burker and then against God. + +Why should He allow Burker to haunt me?... + +Why should Evil triumph?... + +_Was_ I haunted? Or was it, after all, but a hallucination--due to +grief, trouble, and the drug of the opiate? + +I sat and brooded until I thought I could hear the voices of Burker and +Dolores in converse. + +This I knew to be hallucination, pure and simple, and I went to see my +friend (if he will let me call him what he is in the truest and highest +sense) Major Jackson of the R.A.M.C. + +He took me for a long ride, kept me to dinner, and manufactured a job +for me--a piece of work that would occupy and tire me. + +He assured me that the Burker affair was pure hallucination and staked +his professional reputation that the image of Burker came upon my retina +from within and not from without. "The shock of the deaths of your wife +and your friend on consecutive days has unhinged you, and very naturally +so," he said. + +Of course I did not tell him that I had killed Burker, though I +should have liked to do so. I felt I had no right to put him in the +position of having to choose between denouncing me and condoning a +murder--compounding a felony. + +Nor did I see any reason for confessing to the Police what I had done +(even though Dolores was dead) and finishing my career on the scaffold. + +One owes something to one's ancestors as well as to oneself. Well, +perhaps it was a hallucination. I would wait. + +At the next drill Burker was present and rode as Number Three in Section +Six. + +As there were twenty-three (living) on parade I ordered Number +Twenty-three to ride as Number Four of his section and leave a blank +file. + +Burker rode in that blank file and drilled so, throughout--save that he +would not dismount. + +Once, as the troop rode in column of sections, I fell to the rear and, +coming up behind, struck with all my might at that slightly nebulous +figure, with its faint vagueness of outline and hint of transparency. + +My heavy cutting-whip whistled--and touched nothing. I was as one who +beats the air. Section Six must have thought me mad.... Twice again the +dead man drilled with the living, and each time I described what +happened to Major Jackson. + +"It is a persistent hallucination," said he; "you must go on leave." + +"I won't run from Burker, nor from a hallucination," I replied. + +Then came the end. + +At the next drill, twenty-one gentlemen were present and Number +Twenty-one, the Sessions Judge of Duri, a Scot, kept staring with looks +of amazement and alarm at Burker, who rode as Number Four on his flank, +making an odd file into a skeleton section. I was certain that he saw +Burker. + +As the gentlemen "dismissed" after parade, the Judge rode up to me and, +with a white face, demanded:-- + +"Who the devil was that rode with me as Number Twenty-four? It was--it +was--like--Sergeant Burker." + +"It _was_ Sergeant Burker, Sir," said I. + +"I knew it was," he replied, and added: "Man, you and I are fey." + +"Will you tell Major Jackson of this, Sir?" I begged. "He knows I have +seen Burker's ghost here before, and tells me it is a hallucination." + +"I'll go and see him now." he replied. "He is an old friend of mine, +and--he's a damned good doctor. Man--you and I are fey." He rode to +where his trap, with its spirited cob, was awaiting him, dismounted and +drove off. + +As everybody knows, Mr. Blake of the Indian Civil Service, Sessions +Judge of Duri, was thrown from his trap and killed. It happened five +minutes after he had said to me, with a queer look in his eyes, and a +queer note in his voice, "Man! you and I are fey".... So it is no +hallucination and I am haunted by Burker's ghost. Very good. I will +fight Burker on his own ground. + +My ghost shall haunt Burker's ghost--or I shall be at peace. + +Though the religion of the Chaplain has failed me, the religion of my +Mother, taught to me at her knee, has implanted in me an ineradicable +belief in the ultimate justice of things, and the unquenchable hope of +"somehow good". + +I am about to go before my Maker or to obliteration and oblivion. If the +former, I am prepared to say to Him: "You made me a man. I have played +the man. I look to you for justice, and that is--compensation and not +'forgiveness'. Much less is it punishment. You have treated me ill and +given me no help. You have bestowed free-_will_ without free-_dom_. +Compensate me or know Yourself unjust." + +To a servant or child who spoke so to me and with equal reason, I would +reply:-- + +"Compensation is due to you and not 'forgiveness'--much less +punishment," and I would act accordingly.... Why should I cringe to +God--and why should He love a cringer more than I do? + +God help Men and Women--and such Children as are doomed to grow up to be +Men and Women. + +As I finish this sentence I shall put my revolver in my mouth and seek +Justice or Peace.... + + * * * * * + +"Bad luck," murmured Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison, "that was the man of all +men for me! A gentleman, wishful to die.... That is the sort that _does_ +things when swords are out and bullets fly. Seeks a gory grave and gets +a V.C. instead. He and Mike Malet-Marsac and I would have put a polish +on the new Gungapur Fusiliers.... Rough luck...." + +He was greatly disappointed, for his experiences in the bazaars, +market-places, secret-meeting houses, and the bowers of Hearts' +Delights,--the Rialtos of Gungapur (he disguised, now as an Afghan +horse-dealer, now as a sepoy, now as a Pathan money-lender, again as a +gold-braided, velvet waistcoated, swaggering swashbuckler from the +Border)--his experiences were disquieting, were such as to make him push +on preparations, perfect plans, and work feverishly at the "polishing" +of his re-organized Corps. + +Also the reports of his familiar, a Somali yclept Moussa Isa, were +disquieting, disturbing to a lover of the Empire who foresaw the Empire +at war in Europe. + +Moussa Isa also knew that there was talk among Pathan horse-dealers and +_budmashes_ of the coming of one Ilderim the Weeper, a mullah of great +influence and renown, and talk, moreover, among men of other race, of a +Great Conspiracy. + +Moussa was bidden to take service as a mill-coolie in one of Colonel +Dearman's mills, and to report on the views and attitude of the +thousands who laboured therein. This he did and there learnt many +interesting facts. + + + +§ 4. MR. AND MRS. CORNELIUS GOSLING-GREEN. + + +It was Sunday--and therefore John Bruce, the Engineering College +Professor, was exceptionally busy. On a-week-day he only had to deliver +his carefully prepared lectures, interview students, read and return +essays, take the chair at meetings of college societies, coach one or +two "specialists," superintend the games on the college gymkhana ground, +interview seekers after truth and perverters of the same, write letters +on various matters of college business, visit the hostel, set question +papers and correct answers, attend common-room meetings, write articles +for the college magazine and papers for the Scientific, Philosophical, +Shakespearean, Mathematical, Debating, Literary, Historical, Students', +Old Boys', or some other "union" and, if God willed, get a little +exercise and private study at his beloved "subject" and invention, +before preparing for the morrow. + +On Sundays, the thousand and one things crowded out of the programme +were to be cleared up, his home mail was to be written, and then arrears +of work had to be attacked. + +At four o'clock he addressed Roy Pittenweem and Mrs. MacDougall, his +dogs, and said:-- + +"There's a bloomin' bun-snatch somewhere, you fellers, don't it?". +Though a Professor and one of the most keen and earnest workmen in +India, his own college blazers were not quite worn out, and Life, the +great Artist, had not yet done much sketching on the canvas of his +face--in spite of his daily contact with the Science Professor, William +Greatorex Bonnett, B.A., widely known as the Mad Hatter, the greatest +of whose many great achievements is his avoidance of death at the hands +of his colleagues and acquaintance. + +Receiving no reply beyond a wink and a waggle, he dropped his blue +pencil, rose, and went to the table sacred to litter; and from a wild +welter of books, pipes, papers, golf-balls, hats, cigar-boxes, +dog-collars, switches, cartridges and other sediment, he extracted a +large gilt-edged card and studied it without enthusiasm or bias. + +"Large coat of arms," he murmured--"patience--no--a pay-sheet on a +monument asking for time; item a hand, recently washed; ditto, a dickey +bird--possibly pigeon plucked proper or gull argent; guinea-pig +regardant and expectant; supporters, two bottliwallahs rampant. Crest, a +bum-boat flottant, and motto '_Cinq-cento-percentum_'. All done in gold. +Likewise in gold and deboshed gothic, the legend 'Sir and Lady Fuggilal +Potipharpar, At Home. To meet Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P. +Five p.m. C.T.' ... Now what the devil, Roy Pittenweem, _is_ C.T.? Is it +'Curious Time' or 'Cut for Trumps' or a new decoration for gutter +plutocrats? It _might_ mean 'Calcutta Time,' mightn't it, as the +egregious Phossy and his gang would have it? Well, we'll go and look +upon the Cornmealious Gosling-Green, M.P.'s, and chasten our soul from +sinful pride--ain't it, Mrs. MacDougall?" and the Professor strolled +across to the Sports Club for a cup of tea. + +In the midst of cheery converse with a non-moral and unphilosophic +Professor of Moral Philosophy, a fat youth of the name of Augustus +Grobble whose life was one long picturesque pose, he sprang to his feet, +remarking: "I go, Augustus, I am bidden to behold some prize +Gosling-Greens or something, at 5 p.m., D.V. or D.T. or C.T. or L.S.D. +or otherwise. Perhaps it was S.T. which means 'Standard Time,' and as I +said, I go, Augustus." + +Augustus Grobble was understood to return thanks piously.... + +"Taxi, Sahib?" inquired the messenger-boy at the door. + +"Go to," said the Professor. "Also go call me a _tikka-gharri_[55] and +select a _very_ senior horse, blind, angular, withered, wilted, and +answering to the name, most obviously, of Skin-and-Grief--lest I be +taken by the Grizzly-Goslings for a down-trodden plutocrat and a +brother--and not seen for the fierce and 'aughty oppressor that I am." + + [55] Public conveyance. + +"Sahib?" + +"_Tikka-gharri lao_,[56] you lazy little 'ound! Don't I speak plain +English?" The Professor made it a practice to "rot" when not +working--hoping thus even in India to retain sanity and the broad and +wholesome outlook, for he was a very short-tempered person, easily +roused to dangerous wrath. + + [56] Bring. + +A carriage, upholding a pony who, in return, spasmodically moved the +carriage which gave evidence of having been where moths break through +and steal, lumbered into the Club garden, and the Professor, imploring +the jehu not to let the pony "die on him" in the Hibernian sense of the +expression, gingerly entered. + +"Convey me to the gilded Potipharparian 'alls, Arthur," said he. + +"Sahib?" + +"Why _don't_ you listen? _Palangur Hill ki pas_[57] And don't forget +you've to get me there at 5 p.m. C.T. or S.T.--I leave it to you, +partner." + + [57] To. + +On arrival, the Professor concluded that if he had arrived at 5 p.m. +C.T. he ought to have come at 5 p.m. S.T., or vice versa; as what he +termed 'the show' was evidently about over. Fortune favours all sorts of +people. + +His hostess, who looked as though she had come straight out of the Bible +_via_ Bond Street, and his host, who looked as though he had never come +out of Petticoat Lane at all, both accused him of being unable to work +out the problem of "Find Calcutta Time given the Standard Time," and he +professed to be proud to be able to acknowledge the truth of the +compliment. + +"Come and be presented to Meester and Meesers Carneelius Garsling-Green, +M.P.," said the lady, waddling before him; and her husband echoed:-- + +"Oah, yess. Come and be presented to Meester and Meesers +Garsling-Green," waddling after him. + +Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., proved to be a tall, drooping, +melancholy creature, with "Dundreary" whiskers, reach-me-down suit of +thick cloth, wrong kind of tie, thickish boots, and no presence. Without +"form" and void. + +Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green was a Severe Person, tiny, hard-featured +and even more garrulous than her husband, who watched her anxiously and +nervously as he answered any question put in her presence.... + +"And, oh, why, _why_ are not you Mohammedans _loyal_?" said Mrs. +Cornelius Gosling-Green, to a magnificent-looking specimen of the +Mussulman of the old school--stately, venerable, courteous and +honourable--who stood near, looking as though he wondered what the devil +he was doing in that galley. + +Turning from his friend, Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, +a fine Pathan, "Loyal, Madam! _Loyal_! Believe me we Mohammedans are +most intensely and devotedly loyal," he replied. "You have indeed been +misled. Though you are only spending a month in India for collecting the +materials for your book or pamphlet, you must really learn _that_ much. +We Mohammedans are as loyal as the English themselves.--More loyal than +some in fact," he added, with intent. The Pathan smiled meaningly. + +"Ah, that's just it. I mean 'Why aren't you Mohammedans _loyal to poor +India_?'" + +The man turned and left the marquee and the garden without another word. + +"Poor _bleeding_ India," corrected the Professor. + +"And are _you_ a friend and worker for India?" continued the lady, +turning to him and eyeing him with severity. + +"I am. I do my humble possible in my obscure capacity, Mrs. +Grisly-Gosling," he replied. "I _beg_ your pardon, Mrs. +Grossly-Grin----that is--er--Gosling-Green, I _should_ say." + +Be sure your sins will find you out. Through wilful perversion of the +pleasing name the Professor had rendered himself incapable of +enunciating it. + +"And what do _you_ do for India,--write, speak, organize, subscribe or +what?" asked the lady with increasing severity. + +"I work." + +"In what capacity?" + +"I am a professor at the Government Engineering College, here in +Gungapur." + +"O-h-h-h-h! You're one of the overpaid idlers who bolster up the +Bureaucracy and batten on the....'" + +"Allow me to assure you that I neither bolster, batten, nor bureau, Mrs. +Grizzling--I mean _Gosling_ Green. Nor do I talk through my hat. I----" +the Professor was beginning to get angry and to lose control. + +"Perhaps you are one of us in disguise--a Pro-Native?" + +"I am intensely Pro-Native." + +The tall Pathan stared at the Professor. + +"Oh, _good!_ I _beg_ your pardon! Cornelius, this gentleman is a +Government professor and is _with us!_" said this female of the M.P. +species. + +"That's right," gushed the Gosling. "We want a few in the enemy's camp +both to spy out their weakness and to embarrass them. Now about this +University business. I am going to take it up. That history affair now! +_Scandalous!_ I _cannot_ tell you what a wave of indignation swept over +England when that syllabus was drawn up. Nothing truly _Liberal_ about +the whole course, much less Radical. I at once said: '_I_ will see this +righted. _I_ will go to India, and _I_ will beard the....'" + +"I think it was _I_ who said it, Cornelius," remarked his much better +half, coldly. + +"Yes, my dear Superiora, yes. Now with your help I think we can do +something, Professor. Good. This _is_ providential. We shall be able to +embarrass them now! Will you write me----" + +"You are going a little too fast, I think," said the Professor. "I am a +'Pro-Native' and a servant of the Pro-Native Government of India. As +such, I don't think I can be of any service to twenty-one-day visitors +who wish to 'embarrass' the best friends of my friends the Natives, even +supposing I were the sort of gentle Judas you compliment me by imagining +me. I----" + +"You distinctly say you are Pro-Native and then----" + +"I repeat I am intensely Pro-Native, and so are the Viceroy, the +Governors, the entire Civil Service, the Educational Service, the Forest +Service, the P.W.D., the Medical Service, the Army, and every other +Service and Department in India as well as every decent man in India. We +are _all_ Pro-Native, and all doing our best in our respective spheres, +in spite of a deal of ignorant and officious interference and attempted +'embarrassment' at the hands of the self-seeking, the foolish, the +busy-body, the idle--not to mention the vicious. What a _charming_ day +it is. I have so enjoyed the honour of meeting you." + + * * * * * + +"Well, my Scroobious Bird! And have they this day roasted in India such +a Gosling as shall never be put out?" inquired the non-moral and +unphilosophic Professor of Moral Philosophy, a little later. + +"No, my Augustus," was the reply. "It's a quacking little gosling, and +won't lead to any great commotion m the farm-yard. Nasty little +bird--like a _sat-bai_ or whatever they call those appalling things +'seven-sister' birds, aren't they, that chatter and squeak all day." + +"Have a long drink and tell us all about it," replied Mr. Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble. + +"Oh, same old game on the same old stage. Same old players. Leading lady +and gent changed only. Huge great hideous bungalow, like a Goanese +wedding-cake, in a vast garden of symmetrically arranged blue and red +glazed 'art' flower-pots. Lofty room decorated with ancestral portraits +done by Mr. Guzzlebhoy Fustomji Paintwallah; green glass chandeliers and +big blue and white tin balls; mauve carpet with purple azure roses; +wall-paper, bright pink with red lilies and yellow cabbages; immense +mouldy mirrors, and a tin alarm clock. Big crowd of all the fly-blown +rich knaves of the place who have got more than they want out of +Government or else haven't got enough. Only novelty was a splendid +Pathan chap, got-up in English except for the conical cap and puggri. +Extraordinarily like Ross-Ellison, except that he had long black Pathan +hair on his shoulders. Been to England; barrister probably, and seemed +the most viciously seditious of the lot. Silly ignorant Goslings in the +middle saying to Brahmins, 'And you are Muscleman, aren't you, or are +you a Dhobi?' and to Parsis, 'I suppose you High Caste gentlemen have to +bathe _every_ day?' shoving their awful ignorance under the noses of +everybody, and inquiring after the healths of the 'chief wives'. Silly +fatuous geese!--and then talking the wildest piffle about the 'burning +question of the hour' and making the seditious rotters groan at their +ineptitude and folly, until they cheer them up sudden-like with a bit +of dam' treason and sedition they ought to be jailed for. _Jailed_. I +nearly threw a fit when the old geezer, in a blaze of diamonds and +glory, brought up old Phossy and presented him to the Gander, and he +murmured:-- + +"'My _deah_ friend,' as Phossy held on to his paw in transports, 'to +think of their casting _you_ into jail,' and old Mother Potiphar +squeaked: _'Oh, this is not the forger of that name--but the eminent +politeecian'_. But poor Gosly had thought he had been a political +prisoner! Meant no offence. And then some little squirt of an editor +primed him with lies about the University and the new syllabus, and +straightway the Gander tried to get me on the 'embarrass the Government' +lay, and talked as though he knew all about it. 'I'll get some of the +ladies of my committee sent out here as History-lecturers at your +University,' says he. 'They'll teach pure Liberal History and inculcate +true ideas of liberty and self-government.' I wanted to go outside and +be ill. Good old 'Paget M.P.'--takes up a 'Question' and writes a silly +pamphlet on it and thinks he's said the last word.--Written +thousands.--Don't matter so long as he does it in England.--Just the +place for him nowadays.--But when he feels he's shoved out of the +lime-light by a longer-haired Johnny, it's rough luck that he should try +and get back by spending his blooming committee's money coming here and +deludin' the poor seditionist and seducin' your Hatter from his +allegiance to his salt.... Awful old fraud really--no ability whatever. +Came to my college to spout once, in my time. Lord! Still he was a +guest, and we let him go. Run by his missus really, I think. Why can't +she stop at home and hammer windows? They say she went and asked the +Begum of Bhopal to join her in a 'mission and crusade'. Teach the Zenana +Woman and Purdah Lady to Come Forth instead of Bring Forth. Come Forth +and smash windows. Probably true. Silly Goslings. Drop 'em.... What did +you think of our bowling yesterday? With anything like a wicket your +College should be...." + + * * * * * + +Entering his lonely and sequestered bungalow that evening Mir Ilderim +Dost Mahommed changed his Pathan dress for European dining-kit, removed +his beard and wig, and became Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison. After dinner he +wrote to the eminent Cold weather Visitor to India, Mr. Cornelius +Gosling-Green, as follows-- + +"DEAR SIR, + +"As I promised this afternoon, when you graciously condescended to +honour me with your illuminating conversation, I enclose the papers +which I guaranteed would shed some light on certain aspects of Indian +conditions, and which I consider likely to give you food for thought. + +"As I was myself educated in India, was brought up to maturity with +Indian students, and have lived among them in many different places, I +may claim to know something about them. As a class they are gentle, +affectionate, industrious, well-meaning and highly intelligent. They are +the most malleable of human metal, the finest material for the sculptor +of humanity, the most impressionable of wax. In the right hands they can +be moulded to anything, by the right leader led to any height. And +conversely, of them a devil can make fiends. By the wrong leader they +can be led down to any depth. + +"The crying need of India is noble men to make noble men of these fine +impressionable youths. Read the enclosed and take it that the writer +(who wrote this recently in Gungapur Jail) is typical of a large class +of misled, much-to-be-pitied youths, wrecked and ruined and +destroyed--their undoing begun by an unspeakably false and spurious +educational ideal, and completed by the writings, and the spoken words +of heartless unscrupulous scoundrels who use them to their own vile +ends. + +"Read, Sir, and realize how truly noble, useful and beautiful is your +great work of endeavouring to embarrass our wicked Government, to weaken +its prestige here and in England, to encourage its enemies, to increase +discontent and unrest, to turn the thoughts of students to matters +political, and, in short, to carry on the good work of the usual +Self-advertising Visitation M.P. + +"Humbly thanking your Honour, and wishing your Honour precisely the +successes and rewards that your Honour deserves, + +"I remain, + +"The dust of your Honour's feet, + +"ILDERIM DOST MAHOMMED." + +And Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., read as follows:-- + +... And so I am to be hanged by the neck till I am dead, am I? And for a +murder which I never committed, and in the perpetration of which I had +no hands? Is it, my masters? I trow so. But I can afford to spit--for I +did commit a murder, nevertheless, a beautiful secret murder that no one +could possibly ever bring to my home or cast in my tooth. + +"Well, well! Hang me and grin in sleeve--and I will laugh on other side +of face while dancing on nothing--for if you think you are doing me in +eye, I know I have done you in eye! + +"Yes. _I_ murdered Mr. Spensonly, the Chief Secretary of the Nuddee +River Commission. + +"As the Latin-and-Greeks used to say, '_Solo fesit_'! + +"You think Mr. Spensonly died of plague? So he did. And who caused him +to have plague? In short, who _plagued_ him? (Ha! Ha! An infinite jest!) +You shall know all about it and about, as Omar says, for I am going now +to write my autobiography of myself, as all great so-called Criminals +have done, for the admiration of mankind and the benefit of posterity. +And my fellow-brothers and family-members shall proudly publish it with +my photo--that of a great Patriot Hero and second Mazzini, Robespierre, +Kossuth, Garibaldi, Wallace, Charlotte Corday, Kosciusko, and Mr. Robert +Bruce (of spider fame). + +"And I shall welcome death and embrace the headsman ere making last +speech and dying confession. Having long desired to know what lies +Beyond, I shall make virtue of necessity and seize opportunity (of +getting to know) to play hero and die gamish. + +"Not like the Pathan murderer who walked about in front of condemned +cell with Koran balanced on head, crying to his Prophet to save him, and +defying Englishes to touch him. Of course they cooked his geese, Koran +or not. One warder does more than many Prophets in Gungapur Jail. (He! +He! Quite good epigram and nice cynicality of educated man.) The +degraded and unpolished fellow decoyed two little girls into empty house +to steal their jewellery, and cut off fingers and noses and ears to get +rings and nose-jewels and ear-drops, and left to die. Holy Fakir, +gentleman of course! Pooh! and Bah! for all holy men. I give spurnings +to them all for fools, knaves, or hypocrites. There are no gods any more +for educated gentleman, except himself, and that's very good god to +worship and make offering to (Ha! Ha! What a wit will be lost to the +silly world when it permits itself to lose me.) + +"Well, to return to the sheep, as the European proverb has it. I was +born here in Gungapur, which will also have honour of being my +death-and-cremation place, of poor but honest parent on thirty rupees a +mensem. He was very clever fellow and sent five sons to Primary School, +Middle School, High School and Gungapur Government College at cost of +over hundred rupees a month, all out of his thirty rupees a mensem. He +always used proverb 'Politeness lubricates wheels of life and palm +also,' and he obliged any man who made it worth his while. But he fell +into bad odours at hands of Mr. Spensonly owing to folly of +bribing-fellow sending cash to office and the letter getting into Mr. +Spensonly's post-bag and opening by mistake. + +"But the Sahib took me up into his office to soften blow to progenitor +and that shows he was a bad man or his luck would not have been to take +me in and give chance to murder him. + +"My good old paternal parent made me work many hours each night, and +though he knew nothing of the subjects he could read English and would +hear all my lessons and other brothers', and we had to say Skagger Rack, +Cattegat, Scaw Fell and Helvellyn, and such things to him, and he would +abuse us if we mis-arranged the figures and letters in CaH2O2 and +H2SO4 and all those things in bottles. Before the Matriculation +Examination he made a Graduate, whom he had got under his thumb-nail, +teach us all the answers to all the back questions in all subjects till +we knew them all by heart, and also made us learn ten long essays by +heart so as to make up the required essay out of parts of them. He +nearly killed my brother by starvation (saving food as well as punishing +miscreant) for failing--the only one of us who ever failed in any +examination--which he did by writing out all first chapter of Washington +Irving for essay, when the subject was 'Describe a sunrise in the +Australian back-blocks'. As parent said, he could have used 'A moonlight +stroll by the sea-shore' and change the colour from silver to golden. +But the fool was ill--so ill that he tried to kill himself and had not +the strength. He said he would rather go to the missionaries' hell, full +of Englishes, than go on learning _Egbert, Ethelbald, Ethelbert, +Ethelwulf, Ethelred, Alfred, Edward the Elder, Edred, Edwy, Edgar, +Ethelred the Unready_, and _If two triangles have two sides of the one +equal to two angles of the other each to each and the sides so subtended +equal then shall the bases or fourth sides be equal each to each or be +isosceles_. + +"Well, the progenitor kept our noses in the pie night and day and we all +hated the old papa piously and wished he and we and all teachers and +text-books were burned alive. + +"But we were very much loved by everybody as we were so learned and +clever, and whenever the Collector or anybody came to School, the Head +Master used to put one of us in each room and call on us to answer +questions and recite and say capes and bays without the map, and other +clever things; and when my eldest brother left I had to change coat with +another boy and do it twice sometimes, in different rooms. + +"Sometimes the Educational Inspector himself would come, but then +nothing could be done, for he would not ask questions that were always +asked and were in the book, like the teachers and Deputy Inspectors did, +but questions that no one knew and had to be thought out then and there. +That is no test of Learning--and any fool who has not troubled to mug +his book by heart might be able to answer such questions, while the man +who had learnt every letter sat dumb. + +"I hated the school and the books I knew by heart, but I loved Mr. +Ganeshram Joshibhai. He was a clever cunning man, and could always tweak +the leg of pompous Head Master when he came to the room, and had +beautiful ways of cheating him when he came to examine--better than +those of the other teachers. + +"Before we had been with him a month he could tell us things while being +examined, and no one else knew he was doing it. The initial letters of +each word made up the words he wanted to crib to us, and when he +scratched his head with the right hand the answer was 'No,' while with +the left hand it was 'Yes'. And the clever way he taught us sedition +while teaching us History, and appearing to praise the English! + +"He would spend hours in praising the good men who rebelled and fought +and got Magnum Charter and disrespected the King and cheeked the +Government and Members of Council. We knew all about Oliver Cromwell, +Hampden, Pim, and those crappies, and many a boy who had never heard of +Wolsey and Alfred the Great knew all about Felton the jolly fine patriot +who stabbed the Member of Council, Buckingham Esquire, in back. + +"We learnt whole History book at home and he spent all History lessons +telling us about Plots, all the English History Plots and foreign too, +and we knew about the man who killed Henry of Navarre, as well as about +the killing of French and American Presidents of to-day. He showed +always why successful plots succeeded and the others failed. And he gave +weeks to the American Independence War and the French Revolution. + +"And all the Indian History was about the Mutiny and how and why it +failed, when he was not showing us how the Englishes have ruined and +robbed India, and comparing the Golden Age of India (when no cow ever +died and there was never famine, plague, police nor taxes) with the +miserable condition of poor bleeding India to-day. + +"He was a fine fellow and so clever that we were almost his worshippers. +But I am not writing his autobiography but my own, so let him lapse +herewith into posterity and well-merited oblivious. + +"At the College when we could work no longer, we who had never learnt +crickets and tennis and ping-pongs, would take a nice big lantern with +big windows in four sides of it, and sit publicly in the middle of the +grass at the Gardens (with our books for a blind) and make speech to +each other about Mother India and exhort each other to join together in +a secret society and strike a blow for the Mother, and talk about the +heroes who had died on the scaffolding for her, or who were languishing +in chokey and do _poojah_ to their photos. But the superior members did +no _poojah_ to anything. Then came the Emissary in the guise of a holy +man (and I thought it the most dangerous disguise he could have assumed, +for I wonder the police do not arrest every sannyasi and fakir on +suspicion) and brought us the Message. And he took us to hear the blind +Mussulman they call Ilderim the Weeper. + +"All was ready and nothing lacked but the Instrument. + +"Would any of us achieve eternal fame and undying glory by being the +next Instrument? + +"We wouldn't. No jolly fear, and thanks awfully. + +"But we agreed to make a strike at the College and to drop a useless +Browning pistol where it would be found, and in various other ways to be +unrestful. And one of us, whom the Principal would not certify to sit +for his F.E. and was very stony hard-up, joined the Emissary and went +away with him to be a Servant and perhaps an Instrument later on (if he +could not get a girl with a good dowry or a service of thirty rupees a +mensem), he was so hungry and having nothing for belly. + +"Yes, as Mr. Ganeshram Joshibhai used to say, that is what the British +Government does for you--educates you to be passed B.A. and educated +gent., and then grudges to give you thirty rupees a mensem and expects +you to go searching for employment and food to put in belly! Can B.A. +work with hands like _maistri_? + +"Then there came the best of all my friends, a science-knowing gentleman +who gave all his great talents to bomb. And the cream of all the milky +joke was that he had learnt all his science free, from Government, at +school and college, and he not only used his knowledge to be first-class +superior anarchist but he got chemicals from Government own laboratory. + +"His brother was in Government Engineering College and between them they +did much--for one could make the bomb and the other could fill it. + +"But they are both to be hanged at the same time that I am, and I do not +grudge that I am to be innocently hanged for their plot and the blowing +up of the _bhangi_ by mistake for the Collector, for I have long aspired +to be holy martyr in Freedom's sacred cause and have photo in newspapers +and be talked about. + +"Besides, as I have said, I am not being done brown, as I murdered Mr. +Spensonly, the Engineer. + +"How I hated him! + +"Why should he be big and strong while I am skinny and feeble--owing to +night-and-day burning midnight candle at both ends and unable to make +them meet? + +"Besides did he not bring unmerited dishonour on grey hairs of poor old +progenitor by finding him out in bribe-taking? Did he not bring my +honoured father's aforesaying grey hairs in sorrow to reduced pension? + +"Did he not upbraid and rebuke, nay, reproach me when I made grievous +little errors and backslippers? + +"A thousand times Yea. + +"But I should never have murdered him had I not caught the Plague, so +out of evil cometh good once more. + +"The Plague came to Gungapur in its millions and we knew not what to do +but stood like drowning man splitting at a straw. + +"Superstitious Natives said it was the revenge of Goddess Kali for not +sacrificing, and superstitious Europeans said it was a microbe created +by their God to punish unhygienic way of living. + +"Knowing there are no gods of any sort I am in a position to state that +it was just written on our foreheads. + +"To make confusion worse dumbfounded the Government of course had to +seize horns of dilemma and trouble the poor. They had all cases taken to +hospital and made segregation and inspection camps. They disinfected +houses and burnt rags and even purdah women were not allowed to die in +bosom of family. Of course police stole lakhs of rupees worth of clothes +and furniture and said it was infected. And many good men who were +enemies of Government were falsely accused of being plague-stricken and +were dragged to hospital and were never seen again. + +"Terrible calamities fell upon our city and at last it nearly lost me +myself. I was seized, dragged from my family-bosom, cast into hospital +and cured. And in hospital I learned from fellow who was +subordinate-medical that rats get plague in sewers and cesspools and +when they die of it their fleas must go elsewhere for food, and so hop +on to other rat and give that poor chap plague too, by biting him with +dirty mouths from dead rat, and then he dies and so _in adfinitum_, as +the poet has it. But suppose no other rat is handy, what is poor hungry +flea to do? When you can't get curry, eat rice! When flea can't get rat +he eats man--turns to nastier food. (He! He!) + +"So when flea from plague-stricken rat jumps on to man and bites him, +poor fellow gets plague--_bus_.[58] + + [58] Finale, enough, the end. + +"Didn't friends and family-members skeddaddle and bunk when they saw rat +after I told them all that! But I didn't care, I had had plague once, +and one cannot get it twice. Not one man in thousand recovers when he +has got it, but I did. Old uneducated fool maternal parent did lots of +thanks-givings and _poojah_ because gods specially attentive to me--but +I said 'Go to, old woman. It was written on forehead.' + +"And when I returned to work, one day I had an idea--an idea of how to +punish Mr. Spensonly for propelling honoured parent head first out of +job, and idea for striking blow at British prestige. We had our office +in private bungalow in those days before new Secretariat was built, and +it was unhealthy bungalow in which no one would live because they died. + +"Mr. Spensonly didn't care, and he had office on top floor, but bottom +floor was clerks' office who went away at night also. Now it was my +painful duty to go every morning up to his office-room and see that peon +had put fresh ink and everything ready and that the _hamal_ had dusted +properly. So it was not long before I was aware that all the drawers +were locked except the top right-hand drawer, and that was not used as +there was a biggish hole in the front of it where the edge was broken +away from the above, some miscreant having once forced it open with +tool. + +"And verily it came to pass that one day, entering my humble abode-room, +I saw a plague-rat lying suffering from _in extremis_ and about to give +up ghost. But having had plague I did not trouble about the fleas that +would leave his body when it grew stiff and cold, in search of food. +Instead I let it lie there while my food was being prepared, and +regretted that it was not beneath the chair of some enemy of mine who +had not had plague, instead of beneath my own ... that of Mr. Spensonly +for example!... + +"It was Saturday night. I returned to the office that evening, knowing +that Mr. Spensonly was out; and I went to his office-room with idle +excuse to the peon sitting in verandah--and in my pocket was poor old +rat kicking bucket fast. + +"Who was to say _I_ put deceasing rat in the Sahib's table-drawer just +where he would come and sit all day--being in the habit of doing work on +Sunday the Christian holy day (being a man of no religion or caste)? +What do I know of rats and their properties when at death's front door? + +"Cannot rat go into a Sahib's drawer as well as into poor man's? If he +did no work on Sunday very likely the fleas would remain until Monday, +the rat dying slowly and remaining warm and not in _rigour mortuis_. +Anyhow when they began to seek fresh fields and pastures new, being fed +up with old rat--or rather not able to get fed up enough, they would be +jolly well on the look out, and glad enough to take nibble even at an +Englishman! (He! He!) So I argued, and put good old rat in drawer and +did slopes. On Monday, Mr. Spensonly went early from office, feeling +feverish; and when I called, as in duty bound, to make humble inquiries +on Tuesday, he was reported jolly sickish with Plague--and he died +Tuesday night. I never heard of any other Sahib dying of Plague in +Gungapur except one missionary fellow who lived in the native city with +native fellows. + +"So they can hang me for share in bomb-outrage and welcome (though I +never threw the bomb nor made it, and only took academic interest in +affair as I told the Judge Sahib)--for I maintain with my dying breath +that it was I who murdered Mr. Spensonly and put tongue in cheeks when +_Gungapur Gazette_ wrote column about the unhealthy bungalow in which he +was so foolish as to have his office. When I reflect that by this time +to-morrow I shall be Holy Martyr I rejoice and hope photo will be good +one, and I send this message to all the world-- + +"'Oh be....'" + + * * * * * + +Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gosling-Green, M.P., liked this Pathan gentleman so +well after reading his letter and enclosure. Before long they liked him +very much less--although they did not know it--which sounds cryptic. + + + +§ 5. MR. HORACE FAGGIT. + + +"Fair cautions, ain't they, these bloomin' niggers," observed Mr. Horace +Faggit, as the train rested and refreshed itself at a wayside station on +its weary way to distant Gungapur. + +Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley, of the 99th Baluch Light Infantry, +apparently did not feel called upon to notice the remark of Horace, whom +he regarded as a Person. + +"Makes you proud to think you are one of the Ruling Rice to look at the +silly blighters, don't it?" he persisted. + +"No authority on rice," murmured the Colonel, without looking up from +his book. + +Stuffy old beggar he seemed to the friendly and genial Horace, but +Horace was too deeply interested in India and Horace to be affected by +trifles. + +For Mr. Horace Faggit had only set foot in his Imperial Majesty the King +Emperor's Indian Empire that month, and he was dazed with impressions, +drunk with sensations, and uplifted with pride. Was he not one of the +Conquerors, a member of the Superior Society, one of the Ruling Race, +and, in short, a Somebody? + +The train started again and Horace sank back upon the long couch of the +unwonted first-class carriage, and sighed with contentment and +satisfaction. + +How different from Peckham and from the offices of the fine old British +Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt! A Somebody at +last--after being office-boy, clerk, strap-hanger, gallery-patron, +cheap lodger, and paper-collar wearer. A Somebody, a Sahib, an English +gent., one of the Ruling and Upper Class after being a fourpenny +luncher, a penny-'bus-and-twopenny--tuber, a waverer 'twixt Lockhart and +Pearce-and-Plenty. + +For him, now, the respectful salaam, precedence, the first-class +carriage, the salutes of police and railway officials, hotels, a servant +(elderly and called a "Boy"), cabs (more elderly and called "gharries"), +first-class refreshment and waiting rooms, a funny but imposing +sun-helmet, silk and cotton suits, evening clothes, deference, regard +and prompt attention everywhere. Better than Peckham and the City, this! +My! What tales he'd have to tell Gwladwys Gwendoline when he had +completed his circuit and returned. + +For Mr. Horace Faggit, plausible, observant, indefatigably cunning, and +in business most capable ("No bloomin' flies on 'Orris F." as he would +confidently and truthfully assure you) was the first tentative tentacle +advanced to feel its way by the fine old British Firm of Schneider, +Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt, in the mazy markets of the gorgeous +Orient, and to introduce to the immemorial East their famous jewellery +and wine of Birmingham and Whitechapel respectively; also to introduce +certain exceeding-private documents to various gentlemen of Teutonic +sympathies and activities in various parts of India--documents of the +nature of which Horace was entirely ignorant. + +And the narrow bosom of Horace swelled with pride, as he realized that, +here at least, he was a Gentleman and a Sahib. + +Well, he'd let 'em know it too. Those who did him well and pleased him +should get tips, and those who didn't should learn what it was to earn +the displeasure of the Sahib and to evoke his wrath. And he would +endeavour to let all and sundry see the immeasurable distance and +impassable gulf that lay between a Sahib and a nigger--of any degree +whatsoever. + +This was the country to play the gentleman in and no error! You _could_ +fling your copper cash about in a land where a one-and-fourpenny piece +was worth a hundred and ninety-two copper coins, where you could get a +hundred good smokes to stick in your face for about a couple of bob, and +where you could give a black cabby sixpence and done with it. Horace had +been something of a Radical at home (and, indeed, when an office-boy, a +convinced Socialist), especially when an old-age pension took his lazy, +drunken old father off his hands, and handsomely rewarded the aged +gentleman for an unswervingly regular and unbroken career of +post-polishing and pub-pillaring. But now he felt he had been mistaken. +Travel widens the horizon and class-hatred is only sensible and +satisfactory when you are no class yourself. When you have got a +position you must keep it up--and being one of the Ruling Race was a +position undoubtedly. Horace Faggit _would_ keep it up too, and let 'em +see all about it. + +The train entered another station and drew in from the heat and glare to +the heat and comparative darkness. + +Yes, he would keep up his position as a Sahib haughtily and with +jealousy,--and he stared with terrible frown and supercilious hauteur at +what he mentally termed a big, fat buck-nigger who dared and presumed +to approach the carriage and look in. The man wore an enormous white +turban, a khaki Norfolk jacket, white jodhpore riding-breeches that +fitted the calf like skin, and red shoes with turned-up pointed toes. +His beard was curled, and his hair hung in ringlets from his turban to +his shoulders in a way Horace considered absurd. Could the blighter be +actually looking to see whether there might be room for him, and +meditating entry? If so Horace would show him his mistake. Pretty thing +if niggers were to get into First-Class carriages with Sahibs like +Horace! + +"'Ere! What's the gaime?" he inquired roughly. "Can't yer see this is +Firs-Class, and if you got a Firs-Class ticket, can't yer see there's +two Sahibs 'ere? Sling yer 'ook, _sour_.[59] Go on, _jao!_"[60] + + [59] Pig. + [60] Go away. + +The man gave no evidence of having understood Horace. + +"Sahib!" said he softly, addressing Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley. + +The Colonel went on reading. + +"_Jao_, I tell yer," repeated Horace, rather proud of his grasp of the +vernacular. "Slope, _barnshoot_."[61] + + [61] An insulting epithet. + +"Sahib!" said the man again. + +The Colonel looked up and then sprang to his feet with outstretched +hand. + +"_Bahut salaam_,[62] Subedar Major Saheb," he cried, and wrung the hand +of the "big fat buck-nigger" (who possessed the same medal-ribbons that +he himself did) as he poured forth a torrent of mingled Pushtu, Urdu, +and English while the Native Officer alternately saluted and pressed +the Colonel's hand to his forehead in transports of pure and wholly +disinterested joy. + + [62] Hearty greeting. + +"They told me the Colonel Sahib would be passing through this week," he +said, "and I have met all the trains that I might look upon his face. I +am weary of my furlough and would rejoin but for my law-suit. Praise be +to Allah that I have met my Colonel Sahib," and the man who had five war +decorations was utterly unashamed of the tear that trickled. + +"How does my son, Sahib?" he asked in Urdu. + +"Well, Subedar Major Saheb, well. Worthily of his father--whose place in +the _pultan_ may he come to occupy." + +"Praise be to God, Sahib! Let him no more seek his father's house nor +look upon his father's face again, if he please thee not in all things. +And is there good news of Malet-Marsac Sahib, O Colonel Sahib?" Then, +with a glance at Horace, he asked: "Why does this low-born one dare to +enter the carriage of the Colonel Sahib and sit? Truly the _rêlwêy +terain_ is a great caste-breaker! Clearly he belongs to the class of the +_ghora-log_, the common soldiers." ... + +"'Oo was that,--a Rajah?" inquired the astounded Horace, as the train +moved on. + +"One of the people who keep India safe for you bagmen," replied the +Colonel, who was a trifle indignant on behalf of the insulted Subedar +Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan of the 99th Baluch Light +Infantry. + +"No doubt he thought I was another officer," reflected Horace. "They +think you're a gent, if you chivvy 'em." + +At Umbalpur Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley left the train and Mr. +Faggit had the carriage to himself--for a time. + +And it was only through his own firmness and proper pride that he had it +to himself for so long, for at the very next station a beastly little +brute of a black man actually tried to get in--in with _him_, Mr. Horace +Faggit of the fine old British Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & +Schmidt, manufacturers of best quality Birmingham jewellery and +"importers" of a fine Whitechapel wine. + +But Horace settled _him_ all right and taught him to respect Sahibs. It +happened thus. Horace lay idly gazing at the ever-shifting scene of the +platform in lordly detachment and splendid isolation, when, just as the +train was starting, a little fat man, dressed in a little red turban +like a cotton bowler, a white coat with a white sash over the shoulder, +a white apron tucked up behind, pink silk socks, and patent leather +shoes, told his servant to open the door. Ere the stupefied Horace could +arise from his seat the man was climbing in! The door opened inwards +however, and Horace was in time to give it a sharp thrust with his foot +and send the little man, a mere Judge of the High Court, staggering +backwards on to the platform where he sprawled at full length, while his +turban, which Horace thought most ridiculous for a grown man, rolled in +the dust. Slamming the door the "Sahib" leant out and jeered, while the +insolent presumptuous "nigger" wiped the blood from his nose with a +corner of the _dhoti_ or apron-like garment (which Horace considered +idiotic if not improper).... + +But Homer nodded, and--Horace went to sleep. + +When he awoke he saw by the dim light of the screened roof-lamp that he +was not alone, and that on the opposite couch a _native_ had actually +made up a bed with sheets, blankets and pillow, undressed himself, put +on pyjamas and gone to bed! Gord streuth, he had! He'd attend to him in +the morning--though it would serve the brute right if Horace threw him +out at the next station--without his kit. But he looked rather large, +and Mercy is notoriously a kingly attribute. + +In the morning Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed of +Mekran Kot, Gungapur, and the world in general, awoke, yawned, stretched +himself and arose. + +He arose to some six feet and three inches of stature, and his thin +pyjamasuit was seen to cover a remarkably fine and robustious +figure--provided with large contours where contours are desirable, and +level tracts where such are good. As he lay flat back again, Horace +noted that his chest rose higher than his head and the more southerly +portion of his anatomy, while the action of clasping his hands behind +his neck brought into prominence a pair of biceps that strained their +sleeves almost to bursting. He was nearly as fair as London-bred Horace, +but there were his turbanned conical hat, his curly toed shoes, his long +silk coat, his embroidered velvet waistcoat and other wholly Oriental +articles of attire. Besides, his vest was of patterned muslin and he had +something on a coloured string round his neck. + +"What are you doing 'ere?" demanded Horace truculently, as this bold +abandoned "native" caught his eye and said "Good-morning". + +"At present I am doing nothing," was the reply, "unless passive +reclining may count as being something. I trust I do not intrude or +annoy?" + +"You do intrude and likewise you do annoy also. I ain't accustomed to +travel with blacks, and I ain't agoing to have you spitting about 'ere. +You got in when I was asleep." + +"You were certainly snoring when I got in, and I was careful not to +awaken you--but not on account of any great sensation of guilt or fear. +I assure you I have no intention of spitting or being in any way rude, +unmannerly, or offensive. And since you object to travelling with +'blacks' I suggest--that you leave the carriage." + +Did Horace's ears deceive him? Did he sleep, did he dream, and were +visions about? _Leave the carriage_? + +"Look 'ere," he shouted, "you keep a civil tongue in your 'ead. Don't +you know I am a gentleman? What do you mean by getting into a +first-class carriage with a gentleman and insulting 'im? Want me to +throw you out before we reach a station? Do yer?" + +"No, to tell you the truth I did not realize that you are a +gentleman--and I have known a great number of English gentlemen in +England and India, and generally found them mirrors of chivalry and the +pink of politeness and courtesy. And I hope you won't try to throw me +out either in a station or elsewhere for I might get annoyed and hurt +you." + +What a funny nigger it was! What did he mean by "mirrors of chivalry". +Talked like a bloomin' book. Still, Horace would learn him not to +presoom. + +The presumptuous one retired to the lavatory; washed, shaved, and +reappeared dressed in full Pathan kit. But for this, there was nothing +save his very fine physique and stature to distinguish him from an +inhabitant of Southern Europe. + +Producing a red-covered official work on Mounted Infantry Training, he +settled down to read. + +Horace regretted that India provided not his favourite _Comic Cuts and +Photo Bits_. + +"May I offer you a cigarette and light one myself?" said the "black" man +in his quiet cultured voice. + +"I don't want yer fags--and I don't want you smoking while I got a empty +stummick," replied the Englishman. + +Anon the train strolled into an accidental-looking station with an air +of one who says, "Let's sit down for a bit--what?" and Horace sprang to +the window and bawled for the guard. + +"'Ere--ask this native for 'is ticket," he said, on the arrival of that +functionary. "Wot's 'e doing in 'ere with _me_?" + +"Ticket, please?" said the guard--a very black Goanese. + +The Pathan produced his ticket. + +"Will you kindly see if there is another empty first-class carriage, +Guard?" said he. + +"There iss one next a'door," replied the guard. + +"Then you can escape from your unpleasant predicament by going in there, +Sir," said the Pathan. + +"I shall remine where I ham," was the dignified answer. + +"And so shall I," said the Pathan. + +"Out yer go," said the bagman, rising threateningly. + +"I am afraid I shall have to put you to the trouble of ejecting me," +said the Pathan, with a smile. + +"I wouldn't bemean myself," countered Horace loftily, and didn't. + +"One often hears of the dangerous classes in India," said the Pathan, as +the train moved on again. "You belong to the most dangerous of all. You +and your kind are a danger to the Empire and I have a good mind to be a +public benefactor and destroy you. Put you to the edge of the sword--or +rather of the tin-opener," and he pulled his lunch-basket from under the +seat. + +"Have some chicken, little Worm?" he continued, opening the basket and +preparing to eat. + +"Keep your muck," replied Horace. + +"No, no, little Cad," corrected the strange and rather terrible person; +"you are going to breakfast with me and you are going to learn a few +things about India--and yourself." + +And Horace did.... + +"Where are you going?" asked the Pathan person later. + +"I'm going to work up a bit o' trade in a place called Gungerpore," was +the reply of the cowed Horace. + +But in Gungapur Horace adopted the very last trade that he, respectable +man, ever expected to adopt--that of War. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"MEET AND LEAVE AGAIN." + + "So on the sea of life, Alas! + Man nears man, meets and leaves again." + + + +§ 1. + + +It had come. Ross-Ellison had proved a true prophet (and was to prove +himself a true soldier and commander of men). + +Possibly the most remarkable thing about it was the quickness and +quietness, the naturalness and easiness with which it had come. A week +or two of newspaper forecast and fear, a week or two of recrimination +and feverish preparation, an ultimatum--England at war. The navy +mobilized, the army mobilizing, auxiliaries warned to be in readiness, +overseas battalions, batteries and squadrons recalled, or +re-distributed, reverses and "regrettable incidents,"--and outlying +parts of India (her native troops massed in the North or doing +garrison-duty overseas) an archipelago of safety-islands in a sea of +danger; Border parts of India for a time dependent upon their various +volunteer battalions for the maintenance, over certain areas, of their +civil governance, their political organization and public services. + +In Gungapur, as in a few other Border cities, the lives of the European +women, children and men, the safety of property, and the continuance of +the local civil government depended for a little while upon the local +volunteer corps. + +Gungapur, whose history became an epitome of that of certain other +isolated cities, was for a few short weeks an intermittently besieged +garrison, a mark for wandering predatory bands composed of _budmashes_ +outlaws, escaped convicts, deserters, and huge mobs drawn from that +enormous body of men who live on the margin of respectability, peaceful +cultivator today, bloodthirsty dacoit to-morrow, wielders of the spade +and mattock or of the _lathi_ and _tulwar_[63] according to season, +circumstance, and the power of the Government; recruits for a mighty +army, given the leader and the opportunity--the hour of a Government's +danger. + + [63] Quarter-staff and sword. + +As had been pointed out, time after time, in the happy and +happy-go-lucky past, the practical civilian seditionist and active +civilian rebel is more fortunately situated in India than is his foreign +brother, in that his army exists ready to hand, all round him, in the +thousands of the desperately poor, devoid of the "respectability" that +accompanies property, thousands with nothing to lose and high hopes of +much to gain, heaven-sent material for the agitator. + +Thanks to the energy of Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison, his unusual +organizing ability, his personality, military genius and fore-knowledge +of what was coming, Gungapur suffered less than might have been expected +in view of its position on the edge of a Border State of +always-doubtful friendliness, its large mill-hand element, and the +poverty and turbulence of its general population. + +The sudden departure of the troops was the sign for the commencement of +a state of insecurity and anxiety which quickly merged into one of +danger and fear, soon to be replaced by a state of war. + +From the moment that it was known for certain that the garrison would be +withdrawn, Colonel Ross-Ellison commenced to put into practice his +projected plans and arrangements. On the day that Mr. Dearman's coolies +(after impassioned harangues by a blind Mussulman fanatic known as +Ibrahim the Weeper, a faquir who had recently come over the Border to +Gungapur and attained great influence; and by a Hindu professional +agitator who had obtained a post at the mills in the guise of a harmless +clerk) commenced rioting, beat Mr. Dearman to death with crowbars, +picks, and shovels, murdered all the European and Eurasian employees, +looted all that was worth stealing, and, after having set fire to the +mills, invaded the Cantonment quarter, burning, murdering, +destroying,--Colonel Ross-Ellison called out his corps, declared martial +law, and took charge of the situation, the civil authorities being dead +or cut off in the "districts". + +The place which he had marked out for his citadel in time of trouble was +the empty Military Prison, surrounded by a lofty wall provided with an +unassailable water-supply, furnished with cook-houses, infirmary, +work-shop, and containing a number of detached bungalows (for officials) +in addition to the long lines of detention barracks. + +As soon as his men had assembled at Headquarters he marched to the +place and commenced to put it in a state of defence and preparation for +a siege. + +While Captain Malet-Marsac and Captain John Bruce (of the Gungapur +Engineering College) slaved at carrying out his orders in the Prison, +other officers, with picked parties of European Volunteers, went out to +bring in fugitives, to commandeer the contents of provision and grain +shops, to drive in cattle, to seize cooks, sweepers and other servants, +to shoot rioters and looters in the Cantonment area, to search for +wounded and hidden victims of the riot, to bury corpses, extinguish +fires, penetrate to European bungalows in the city and in outlying +places, to publish abroad that the Military Prison was a safe refuge, to +seize and empty ammunition shops and toddy shops, to mount guards at the +railway-station, telegraph office, the banks, the gate-house of the +great Jail, the Treasury and the Kutcherry,[64] and generally, to use +their common sense and their rifles as the situation demanded. + + [64] Collector's Court and Office. + +Day by day external operation became more restricted as the mob grew +larger and bolder, better armed and better organized, daily augmented +and assisted from without. The last outpost which Colonel Ross-Ellison +withdrew was the one from the railway-station, and that was maintained +until it was known that large bridges had been blown up on either side +and the railway rendered useless. In the Jail gate-house he established +a strong guard under the Superintendent, and urged him to use it +ruthlessly, to kill on the barest suspicion of mutiny, and to welcome +the first opportunity of giving the sharpest of lessons. + +In this matter he set a personal example and behaved, to actual rioters, +with what some of his followers considered unnecessary severity, and +what others viewed as wise war-ending firmness. + +When remonstrated with by Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green (caught, alas! +with his admirable wife in this sudden and terrible maelstrom), for +shooting, against the Prison wall, a squad of armed men caught by night +and under more than suspicious circumstances, within Cantonment limits, +he replied curtly and rudely:-- + +"My good little Gosling, I'd shoot _you_ with my own hand if you failed +me in the least particular--so stick to your drill and hope to become a +Corporal before the war is over". + +The world-famous Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., hoping to become a +Corporal! Meanwhile he was less--a private soldier, doing four hard +drills a day--not to mention sentry-go and fatigues. Like Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble, he grumbled bitterly--but he obeyed, +having been offered the hard choice of enrolment or exclusion. + +"I'll have no useless male mouths here," had said Colonel Ross-Ellison. +"Enroll or clear out and take your chance. I'll look after your wife." + +"But, my dear Sir...." + +"'Sir' without the 'my dear,' please." + +"I was about to say that I could--ah--assist, advise, sit upon your +councils, give you the benefit of my--er--experience, ..." the Publicist +had expostulated. + +"Experience of war?" + +"No--er--I----" + +"Enroll or clear out--and when you have enrolled remember that you are +under martial law and in time of war." + +A swift, fierce, masterful man, harsh and ruthless making war without +kid gloves--that it might end the sooner and be the longer remembered by +the survivors. The flag was to be kept flying in Gungapur, the women and +children were to be saved, all possible damage was to be inflicted on +the rebels and rioters, more particularly upon those who led and incited +them. The Gosling-Greens and Grobbles who could not materially assist to +this end could go, those who could thwart or hinder this end could die. + +Gleams of humour enlivened the situation. Mrs. Gosling-Green (_née_ a +Pounding-Pobble, Superiora Pounding-Pobble, one of the Pounding-Pobbles +of Putney) was under the orders, very much under the orders, of the wife +of the Sergeant-Major, and early and plainly learnt that good woman's +opinion that she was a poor, feckless body and eke a fushionless, not +worth the salt of her porridge--a lazy slut withal. + +Among the "awkward squads" enrolled when rioting broke out and the corps +seized the old Prison, were erstwhile grave and reverend seniors +learning to "stand up like a man an' look prahd o' yourself" at the +orders of the Sergeant-Major. Among them were two who had been Great +Men, Managers signing _per_ and _pro_, Heads of Departments, almost Tin +Gods, and one of them, alas, was at the mercy of a mere boy whom he had +detested and frequently "squashed" in the happy days of yore. The mere +boy (a cool, humorous, and somewhat vindictive person, one of the best +subalterns of the Corps and especially chosen by Colonel Ross-Ellison +when re-organizing the battalion after its disbandment) was giving his +close attention to the improvement of his late manager, a pompous, dull +and silly bureaucrat, even as his late manager had done for him. + +"Now, Private Bulliton," he would urge, "_do_ learn which is your right +hand and which is your left. And _do_ stand up.... No--don't drop your +rifle when you are told to 'shoulder'. _That's_ better--we shall make +something of you yet. Head up, man, head up! Try and look fierce. Look +at Private Faggit--he'll be a Sergeant yet" ... and indeed Private +Horace Faggit was looking very fierce indeed, for he desired the blood +of these interfering villains who were hindering the development of the +business of the fine old British firm of Messrs. Schneider, Schnitzel, +Schnorrer & Schmidt and the commissions of their representative. Also he +felt that he was assisting at the making of history. 'Orace in a +bloomin' siege--Gorblimey!--and he, who had never killed anything bigger +than an insect in his life, lusted to know how it felt to shove your +bayonet into a feller or shoot 'im dead at short rynge. So Horace +drilled with alacrity and zest, paid close attention to +aiming-instruction and to such visual-training and distance-judging as +his officer, Captain John Bruce, could give him, and developed a +military aptitude surprising to those who had known him only as Horace +Faggit, Esquire, the tried and trusted Representative of the fine old +British Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt. + +To Captain Malet-Marsac, an unusually thoughtful, observant and +studious soldier, it was deeply interesting to see how War affected +different people how values changed, how the Great became exceeding +small, and the insignificant person became important. By the end of the +first month of what was virtually the siege of the Military Prison, +Horace Faggit, late office-boy, clerk, and bagman, was worth +considerably more than Augustus Grobble, late Professor of Moral +Philosophy; Cornelius Gosling-Green, late Publicist; Edward Jones, late +(alleged) Educationist, of Duri formerly; and a late Head of a +Department,--all rolled into one--a keen, dapper, self-reliant soldier, +courageous, prompt, and very bloodthirsty. + +As he strolled up and down, supervising drills, went round the +sentry-posts by night, or marched at the head of a patrol, Captain +Malet-Marsac would reflect upon the relativity of things, the false +values of civilization, and the extraordinary devitalising and +deteriorating results of "education". When it came to vital issues, +elementals, stark essential manhood,--then the elect of civilization, +the chosen of education, weighed, was found not only wanting but largely +negligible. Where the highly "educated" was as good as the other he was +so by reason of his games and sports, his _shikar_, or his specialized +training--as in the case of the engineers and other physically-trained +men. + +Captain John Bruce, for example, Professor of Engineering, was a soldier +in a few weeks and a fine one. In time of peace, a quiet, humorous, dour +and religious-minded man, he was now a stern disciplinarian and a +cunning foe who fought to kill, rejoicing in the carnage that taught a +lesson and made for earlier peace. The mind that had dreamed of +universal brotherhood and the Oneness of Humanity now dreamed of +ambushes, night-attacks, slaughterous strategy and magazine-fire on a +cornered foe. + +Surely and steadily the men enclosed behind the walls of the old Prison +rose into the ranks of the utterly reliable, the indefatigable, the +fearless and the fine, or sank into those of the shifty, unhearty, +unreliable, and unworthy--save the few who remained steadily mediocre, +well-meaning, unsoldierly, fairly trustworthy--a useful second line, but +not to be sent on forlorn hopes, dangerous reconnoitring, risky +despatch-carrying, scouting, or ticklish night-work. One siege is very +like another--and Ross-Ellison's garrison knew increasing weariness, +hunger, disease and casualties. + +Mrs. Dearman's conduct raised Colonel Ross-Ellison's love to a burning, +yearning devotion, and his defence of Gungapur became his defence of +Mrs. Dearman. For her husband she appeared to mourn but little--there +was little time to mourn--and, for a while, until sights, sounds and +smells became increasingly horrible, she appeared almost to enjoy her +position of Queen of the Garrison, the acknowledged Ladye of the +Officers and men of the Corps. Until she fell sick herself, she played +the part of amateur Florence Nightingale right well, going regularly +with a lamp--the Lady with the Lamp--at night through the hospital ward. +Captain John Bruce was the only one who was not loud in her praises, +though he uttered no dispraises. He, a dour and practical person, +thought the voyage with the Lamp wholly unnecessary and likely to awaken +sleepers to whom sleep was life; that lint-scraping would have been a +more useful employment than graciousness to the poor wounded; that a +woman, as zealous as Mrs. Dearman looked, would have torn up dainty +cotton and linen confections for bandages instead of wearing them; that +the Commandant didn't need all the personal encouragement and +enheartenment that she wished to give him--and many other uncomfortable, +cynical, and crabby thoughts. Captain Malet-Marsac loved her without +criticism. + +Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, after haranguing all and sundry, +individually and collectively, on the economic unsoundness, the illogic, +and the unsocial influence of War, took to her bed and stayed there +until she found herself totally neglected. Arising and demanding an +interview with the Commandant, she called him to witness that she +entered a formal protest against the whole proceedings and registered +her emphatic----until the Commandant, sending for Cornelius (whose +duties cut him off, unrepining, from his wife's society), ordered him to +remove her, silence her, beat her if necessary--and so save her from the +unpleasant alternative of solitary confinement on bread and water until +she could be, if not useful, innocuous. + +Many a poor woman of humble station proved herself (what most women are) +an uncomplaining, unconsidered heroine, and more than one "subordinate" +of mixed ancestry and unpromising exterior, a brave devoted man. As +usual, what kept the flag flying and gave ultimate victory to the +immeasurably weaker side was the spirit, the personality, the force, the +power, of one man. + +To Captain Malet-Marsac this was a revelation. Even to him, who knew +John Robin Ross-Ellison well, and had known and studied him for some +time at Duri and elsewhere, it was a wonderful thing to see how the +quiet, curious, secretive man (albeit a fine athlete, horseman and +adventurous traveller) stepped suddenly into the fierce light of supreme +command in time of war, a great, uncompromising, resourceful ruler of +men, skilful strategist and tactician, remarkable both as organizer, +leader, and personal fighter. + +Did he _ever_ sleep? Night after night he penetrated into the city +disguised as a Pathan (a disguise he assumed with extraordinary skill +and which he strengthened by a perfect knowledge of many Border dialects +as well as of Pushtoo), or else personally led some night attack, sally, +reconnaissance or foraging expedition. Day after day he rode out on +Zuleika with the few mounted men at his command, scouting, +reconnoitring, gleaning information, attacking and slaughtering small +parties of marauders as occasion offered. + +From him the professional soldier, his adjutant, learned much, and +wondered where his Commandant had learned all he had to teach. Captain +Malet-Marsac owned him master, his military as well as his official +superior, and grew to feel towards him as his immediate followers felt +toward Napoleon--to love him with a devoted respect, a respecting +devotion. He recognized in him the born guerrilla leader--and more, the +trained guerrilla leader, and wondered where on earth this strange +civilian had garnered his practical military knowledge and skill. + +Wherever he went on foot, especially when he slipped out of the Prison +for dangerous spy-work among the forces of the mutineers, rebels, +rioters and _budmashes_ of the city, he was followed by his servant, an +African, concerning whom Colonel Ross-Ellison had advised the servants +of the Officers' Mess to be careful and also to bear in mind that he was +not a _Hubshi_. Only when the Colonel rode forth on horseback was he +separated from this man who, when the Colonel was in his room, +invariably slept across the door thereof. + +On night expeditions, the Somali would be disguised, sometimes as a +leprous beggar, as stable-boy, again as an Arab, sometimes as a renegade +sepoy from a Native Border Levy, sometimes as a poor fisherman, again as +a Sidi boatman, he being, like his master, exceptionally good at +disguises of all kinds, and knowing Hindustani, Arabic, and his native +Somal dialect. + +He was an expert bugler, and in that capacity stuck like a burr to the +Colonel by day, looking very smart and workmanlike in khaki uniform and +being of more than average usefulness with rifle and bayonet. Not until +after the restoration of order did Mr. Edward Jones, formerly of the +Duri High School, long puzzled as to where he had seen him before, +realize who he was. + + * * * * * + +In a low dark room, dimly lighted that evening by wick-and-saucer +_butties_, squatted, lay, sat, stood and sprawled a curious collection +of scoundrels. The room was large, and round the four sides of it ran a +very broad, very low, and very filthy divan, intended for the rest and +repose of portly _bunnias_,[65] _seths_,[66] brokers, shopkeepers and +others of the commercial fraternity, what time they assembled to chew +pan and exchange lies and truths anent money and the markets. A very +different assembly now occupied its greasy lengths _vice_ the former +habitués of the _salon_, now dispersed, dead, robbed, ruined, held to +ransom, or cruelly blackmailed. + + [65] Dealers. + [66] Money-lenders. + +In the seat of honour (an extra cushion), sat the blind faquir who, with +his clerkly colleague, had set the original match to the magazine by +inciting the late Mr. Dearman's coolies. Apparently a relentless, +terrible fanatic and bitter hater of the English, for his councils were +all of blood and fire, rapine and slaughter, he taunted his hearers with +their supine cowardice in that the Military Prison still held out, its +handful of defenders still manned its walls, nay, from time to time, +made sallies and terrible reprisals upon a careless ill-disciplined +enemy. + +"Were I but as other men! Had I but mine eyes!" he screamed, "I would +overwhelm the place in an hour. Hundreds to one you are--and you are +mocked, robbed, slaughtered." + +A thin-faced, evil-looking, squint-eyed Hindu whose large, thick, +gold-rimmed goggles accorded ill with the sword that lay athwart his +crossed legs, addressed him in English. + +"Easy to talk, Moulvie. Had you your sight you could perhaps drill and +arm the mob into an army, eh? Find them repeating rifles and ammunition, +find them officers, find them courage? Is it not? Yes." + +"Hundreds to one, Babu," grunted the blind man, and spat. + +"I would urge upon this august assemblee," piped a youthful weedy +person, "that recreemination is not argument, and that many words butter +no parsneeps, so to speak. We are met to decide as to whether the +treasure shall be removed to Pirgunge or still we keep it with us here +in view of sudden sallies of foes. I hereby beg to propose and my +honourable friend Mister----" + +"Sit down, crow," said the blind faquir unkindly and there was a +snigger. "The treasure will be removed at once--this night, or I will +remove myself from Gungapur with all my followers--and go where deeds +are being done. I weary of waiting while pi-dogs yelp around the walls +they cannot enter. Cowards! Thousands to one--and ye do not kill two of +them a day. Conquer and slay them? Nay--rather must our own treasure be +removed lest some night the devil, in command there, swoop upon it, +driving ye off like sheep and carrying back with him----" + +"Flesh and blood cannot face a machine-gun, Moulvie," said the +squint-eyed Hindu. "Even _your_ holy sanctity would scarcely protect you +from bullets. Come forth and try to-morrow." + +"Nor can flesh and blood--such flesh and blood as Gungapur +provides--surround the machine-gun and rush upon it from flank and rear +of course," replied the blind man. "Do machine guns fire in all +directions at once? When they ran the accursed thing down to the +market-place and fired it into the armed crowd that listened to my +words, could ye not have fled by other streets to surround it? Had all +rushed bravely from all directions how long would it have fired? Even +thus, could more have died than did die? Scores they slew--and retired +but when they could fire no longer.... And ye allowed it to go because a +dozen men stood between it and you----," and again the good man spat. + +"I do not say 'Sit down, crow' for thou art already sitting," put in a +huge, powerful-looking man, arrayed in a conical puggri-encircled cap, +long pink shirt over very baggy peg-top trousers, and a green waistcoat, +"but I weary of thy chatter Blind-Man. Keep thy babble for fools in the +market-place, where, I admit, it hath its uses. Remain our valued and +respected talker and interfere not with fighting men, nor criticize. And +say not 'The treasure will be removed this night,' nor anything else +concerning command. _I_ will decide in the matter of the treasure and I +prefer to keep it here under mine hand...." + +"Doubtless," sneered the blind man. "Under thy hand--until, in the end, +it be found to consist of boxes of stones and old iron. Look you--the +treasure goes to-night or _I_ go, and certain others go with me. And +suppose I change my tune in the market-place, Havildar Nazir Ali Khan, +and say certain words concerning _thee_ and thy designs, give hints of +treachery--and where is the loud-mouthed Nazir Ali Khan?..." and his +blind eyes glared cold ferocity at the last speaker who handled his +sword and replied nothing. + +The secret of the man's power was clear. + +"The treasure will be removed to night," he repeated and a discussion of +limes, routes, escort and other details followed. A dispute arose +between the big man addressed as Havildar Nazir Ali Khan and a squat +broad-shouldered Pathan as to the distance and probable time that a +convoy, moving at the rate of laden bullock-carts, would take in +reaching Pirgunge. + +The short thick-set Pathan turned for confirmation of his estimate to +another Pathan, grey-eyed but obviously a Pathan, nevertheless. + +"I say it is five _kos_ and the carts should start at moonrise and +arrive before the moon sets." + +"You are right, brother," replied the grey-eyed Pathan, who, for his own +reasons, particularly desired that the convoy should move by moonlight. +This individual had not spoken hitherto in the hearing of the blind +faquir, and, as he did so now, the blind man turned sharply in his +direction, a look of startled surprise and wonder on his face. + +"Who spoke?" he snapped. + +But the grey-eyed man arose, yawned hugely, and, arranging his puggri +and straightening his attire, swaggered towards the door of the room, +passed out into a high-walled courtyard, exchanged a few words with the +guardian of a low gateway, and emerged into a narrow alley where he was +joined by an African-looking camel-man. + +The blind man, listening intently, sat motionless for a minute and then +again asked sharply:-- + +"Who spoke? Who spoke?" + +"Many have spoken Pir Saheb," replied the squat Pathan. + +"Who said '_You are right, brother_,' but now? Who? Quick!" he cried. + +"Who? Why, 'twas one of us," replied the squat Pathan. "Yea, 'twas +Abdulali Habbibullah, the money-lender. I have known him long...." + +"Let him speak again," said the blind man. + +"Where is he? He has gone out, I think," answered the other. + +"Call him back, Hidayetullah. Take others and bring him back. I must +hear his voice again," urged the faquir. + +"He will come again, Moulvie Saheb, he is often here," said the short +man soothingly. "I know him well. He will be here to-morrow." + +"See, Hidayetullah," said the blind faquir "when next he comes, say then +to me, 'May I bring thee tobacco, Pir Saheb,' if he be sitting near, but +say 'May I bring thee tobacco, Moulvie Saheb,' if he be sitting afar +off. If this, speak to him across the room that I may hear his voice in +answer, and call him by his name, Abdulali Habbibullah. And if I should, +on a sudden, cry out 'Hold the door,' do thou draw knife and leap to the +door...." + +"A _spy_, Pir Saheb?" asked the interested man. + +"That I shall know when next I hear his voice--and, if it be he whom I +think, thou shalt scrape the flesh from the bones of his face with thy +knife and put his eyeballs in his mouth. But he must not die. Nay! Nay!" + +The Pathan smiled. + +"Thou shalt hear his voice, Pir Saheb," he promised. + + * * * * * + +An hour later the African-looking camel-man and the Pathan approached +the gates of the Military Prison and at a distance of a couple of +hundred yards the African imitated the cry of a jackal, the barking of a +dog and the call of the "Did-ye-do-it" bird. + +Approaching the gate he whispered a countersign and was admitted, the +gate being then held open for the Pathan who followed him at a distance +of a hundred yards. Entering Colonel Ross-Ellison's room the Pathan +quickly metamorphosed himself into Colonel Ross-Ellison, and sent for +his Adjutant, Captain Malet-Marsac. + +"Fifty of the best, with fifty rounds each, to parade at the gate in +half an hour," he said. "Bruce to accompany me, you to remain in command +here. All who can, to wear rubber-soled shoes, others to go barefoot or +bandage their boots with putties over cardboard or paper. No man likely +to cough or sneeze is to go. Luminous-paint discs to be served out to +half a dozen. No rations, no water,--just shirts, shorts and bandoliers. +Nothing white or light-coloured to be worn. Put a strong outpost, all +European, under Corporal Faggit on the hill, and double all guards and +sentries. Shove sentry-groups at the top of the Sudder Bazaar, West +Street and Edward Road.--_You_ know all about it.... I've got a good +thing on. There'll be a lot of death about to-night, if all goes well." + +Half an hour later Captain Bruce called his company of fifty picked men +to "attention" as Colonel Ross-Ellison approached, the gate was opened +and an advance-guard of four men, with four flankers, marched out and +down the road leading to the open country. Two of these wore each a +large tin disc painted with luminous paint fastened to his back. When +these discs were only just visible from the gate a couple more +disc-adorned men started forth, and before their discs faded into the +darkness the remainder of the party "formed fours" and marched after +them, all save a section of fours which followed a couple of hundred +yards in the rear, as a rear-guard. In silence the small force advanced +for an hour, passed some cross-roads, and then Colonel Ross-Ellison, +who had joined the advance-guard, signalled a halt and moved away by +himself to the right of the road. + +In the shadow of the trees, the moon having risen, Captain Bruce ordered +his men to lie down, announcing in a whisper that he would have the life +of anyone who made a sound or struck a match. This was known to be but +half in jest, for the Captain was a good disciplinarian and a man of his +word. + +Save for the occasional distant bark of the village-dogs, the night was +very still. Sitting staring out into the moon-lit hazy dusk in the +direction in which his chief had disappeared, Captain John Bruce +wondered if he were really one of a band of armed men who hoped shortly +to pour some two and a half thousand bullets into other men, really a +soldier fighting and working and starving that the Flag might fly, +really a primitive fighting-man with much blood upon his hands and an +earnest desire for more--or whether he were not a respectable Professor +who would shortly wake, beneath mosquito-curtains, from a very dreadful +dream. How thin a veneer was this thing called Civilization, and how +unchanged was human nature after centuries and centuries of---- + +Colonel Ross-Ellison appeared. + +"Bring twenty-five men and follow me. Hurry up," he said quietly, and, a +minute later, led the way from the high-road across country. Five +minutes marching brought the party, advancing in file, to the mouth of a +nullah which ran parallel with the road. Along this, Colonel +Ross-Ellison led them, and, when he gave the signal to halt, it was seen +that they were behind a high sloping bank within fifty yards of the +high-road. + +"Now," said the Colonel to Captain John Bruce, "I'm going to leave you +here. Let your men lie below the top of the bank and if any man looks +over, till your command 'Up and fire,' kick his face in. You will peep +through that bit of bush and no one else will move. Do nothing until I +open fire from the other side. The moment I open fire, up your lot come +and do the same. Magazine, of course. The moon will improve as it rises +more. You'll fix bayonets and charge magazines now. I expect a pretty +big convoy--and before very long. Probably a mob all round a couple of +_bylegharies_[67] and a crowd following--everybody distrusting every +one, as it is treasure, looted from all round. Don't shoot the bullocks, +but I particularly want to kill a blind bloke who may be with 'em, so if +we charge, barge in too, and look out for a blinder and don't give him +any quarter--give him half instead--half your sword. He's a +ringleader--and I want him for auld lang syne too, as it happens. He +doesn't look blind at all, but he would be led.... Any questions?" + + [67] Bullock-carts. + +"No, Sir. I'm to hide till you fire. Then fire, magazine, and charge if +you do. A blind man to be captured if possible. The bullocks not to be +shot, if possible." + +"Eight O. Carry on," and the Colonel strode back to where the remaining +twenty-five waited, under a Sergeant. These he placed behind an old +stone wall that marked the boundary of a once-cultivated patch of land, +some forty yards from the road, to which the ground sloped sharply +downwards. + +A nice trap if all went well. + +All went exceeding well. + +Within an hour and a half of the establishment of the ambush, the +creaking of ungreased wheels was heard and the loud nasal singing of +some jovial soul. Down the silent deserted road came three bullock-carts +piled high with boxes and escorted by a ragged regiment of ex-sepoys, +ex-police, mutineers, almost a battalion from the forces of the wild +Border State neighbouring Gungapur. A small crowd of variously armed +uniformless men preceded the escort and carts, while a large one +followed them. + +No advance-guard nor flanking-parties guaranteed the force from ambush +or attack. + +Suddenly, as the carts crossed a long culvert and the escort perforce +massed on to the road, instead of straggling on either side beneath the +trees, a voice said coolly in English "Up and fire," and as scores of +surprised faces turned in the direction of the voice the night was rent +with the crash of fifty rifles pouring in magazine fire at the rate of +fifteen rounds a minute. Magazine fire at less than fifty yards, into a +close-packed body of men. Scarcely a hundred shots were returned and, by +the time a couple of thousand rounds had been fired (less than three +minutes), and Colonel Boss-Ellison had cried "Ch-a-a-a-r-ge" there was +but little to charge and not much for the bayonet to do. Of the six +bullocks four were uninjured. + +"Load as many boxes as you can on two carts, and leave half a dozen men +to bring them in. They'll have to take their chance. We must get back +_ek dum_,"[68] said Colonel Ross-Ellison. + + [68] At once. + +Even as he spoke, the sound of distant firing fell upon the ears of the +party and the unmistakable stammer-hammer racket of the maxim. + +"They're attacked, by Jove," he cried. "I thought it likely. There may +have been an idea that we should know something of this convoy and go +for it. All ready? Now a steady double. We'll double and quick-march +alternately. Double _march_." + + * * * * * + +Near the Military Prison was a low conical hill, bare of vegetation and +buildings, a feature of the situation which was a constant source of +anxiety to Colonel Ross-Ellison, for he realized that life in the +beleaguered fortress would be very much harder, and the casualty rate +very much higher, if the enemy had the sense to occupy it in strength +and fire down into the Prison. Against this contingency he always +maintained a picket there at night and a special sentry to watch it by +day, and he had caused deep trenches to be dug and a covered way made in +the Prison compound, so that the fire-swept area could be crossed, when +necessary, with the minimum of risk. Until the night of the +convoy-sortie, however, the enemy had not had the ordinary common sense +to grasp the fact that the hill was the key of the situation and to +seize it. + +"Bloomin' cold up 'ere, Privit Greens, wot?" observed Corporal Horace +Faggit to the famous Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., in kindly and +condescending manner, as he placed him back to back with Private +Augustus Grobble on the hill-top. "But you'll keep awake all the better +for that, me lad.... Now you other four men can go to sleep, see? +You'll lie right close up agin the feet o' Privits Greens an' Grabbles, +and when they've done their two hours, they'll jes' give two o' you a +kick and them two'll rise up an' take their plaices while they goes to +sleep. Then them two'll waike 'tother two, see? An' if hannyone +approaches, the sentry as is faicin' 'im will 'olleraht 'Alt! 'Oo comes +there?' an' if the bloke or blokes say, 'Friend,' then 'e'll say +'Hadvance one an' give the countersign,' and if he can't give no +countersign, then blow 'is bleedin' 'ead off, see?... Now _I_ shall +visit yer from time to time, an' let me find you spry an' smart with +yer,' _'Alt,' 'Oo comes there?_ see? An' if either sentry sees anythink +suspicious down below there--let 'im send the other sentry across fer me +over in the picket there, see? 'E'll waike up the others meanwhile an' +they'll all watch out till I comes and gives orders, see? An' if you're +attacked afore I come, then retire firing. Retire on the picket, see? We +won't shoot yer. Don't make a bloomin' blackguard-rush for the picket +though. Jest retire one by one firin' steady, see? Now I'm goin' back to +the picket. Ow! an' don' fergit the reconnoitrin' patrol. Don' go an' +shoot at 'em as they comes back. 'Alt 'em for the countersign as they +comes out, and 'alt 'em fer it agin as they comes in, see? Right O. Now +you keep yer eyes skinned, Greens and Grobbles." + +Private Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., had never looked really +impressive even on the public platform in over-long frock-coat and +turned-down collar. In ill-fitting khaki, ammunition boots, a helmet +many sizes too big, and badly-wound putties, he looked an extremely +absurd object. Private Augustus Grobble looked a little more +convincing, inasmuch as his fattish figure filled his uniform, but the +habit of wearing his helmet on the back of his neck and a general +congenital unmilitariness of habit and bearing, operated against +success. + +Two unhappier men rarely stood back to back upon a lonely, windy +hill-top. Both were very hungry, very sleepy and very cold, both were +essentially men of peace, and both had powerful imaginations--especially +of horrors happening to their cherished selves. + +Both were dealers in words; neither was conversant with things, facts, +deeds, and all that lay outside their inexpressibly artificial and +specialized little spheres. Each had been "educated" out of physical +manliness, self-reliance, courage, practical usefulness, adaptability, +"grit" and the plain virile virtues. + +Cornelius burned with a peevish indignation that he, writer of +innumerable pamphlets, speaker at innumerable meetings, organizer of +innumerable societies, compiler of innumerable statistics, author of +innumerable letters to the press, he, husband of the famous suffragist +worker, speaker, organizer and leader, Superiora Gosling-Green (a +Pounding-Pobble of the Pounding-Pobbles of Putney), that he, Cornelius +Gosling-Green, Esq., M.P., should be stuck there like a common soldier, +with a heavy and dangerous gun and a nasty sharp-pointed bayonet, to +stand and shiver while others slept. To stand, too, in a horribly +dangerous situation ... he had a good mind to resign in protest, to take +his stand upon his inalienable rights as a free Englishman. Who should +dare to coerce a Gosling-Green, Member of Parliament, of the Fabian +Society, and a hundred other "bodies". His Superiora did all the +coercing he wanted and more too. He would enter a formal protest and +tender his resignation. He had always, hitherto, been able to protest +and resign when things did not go as he wished. + +He yawned, and again. + +"I can see as well sitting or kneeling as I can standing," he remarked +to Private Augustus Grobble. + +"It is a great physiological truth," replied Augustus, and they both sat +down, leaning against each other for warmth and support, back to back. + +The soul of Augustus was filled with a melancholy sadness and a gentle +woe. To think that he, the loved of many beautiful Wimmin should be +suffering such hardships and running such risks. How his face was +falling in and how the wrinkles were gathering round his eyes. Some of +the beautiful and frail, of whom he thought when he gave his usual toast +after dinner, "To the Wimmin who have loved me," would hardly recognize +the fair boy over whom they had raved, whose poems they had loved, whose +hair, finger-nails, eyes, ties, socks and teeth they had complimented. A +cruel, cruel waste. But how rather romantic--the war-worn soldier! He +who knew his Piccadilly, Night Clubs, the theatres, the haunts of fair +women and brave men, standing, no--sitting, on a lonely hill-top +watching, watching, the lives of the garrison in his hands.... He would +return to those haunts, bronzed, lined, hardened--the man from the edge +of the Empire, from the back of Beyond, the man who had Done Things--and +talk of camp-fires, the trek, the Old Trail, smells of sea and desert +and jungle, and the man-stifled town, ... battle, ... brave deeds ... +unrecognized heroism ... a medal ... perhaps the ... and the nodding +head of Augustus settled upon his chest. + +His deep breathing and occasional snores did not attract the attention +of Private Gosling-Green, as Private Gosling-Green was sound asleep. Nor +did they awaken the weary four who made up the sentry group--Edward +Jones, educationist; Henry Grigg, barber; Walter Smith, shopman; +Reginald Ladon Gurr, Head of a Department--and whose right it was to +sleep so long as two of the six watched. + + * * * * * + +"Let there be no mistake then," said the burly Havildar Nazir Ali Khan +to one Hidayetulla, squat thick-set Pathan, "at the first shot from the +hill your party, ceasing to crawl, will rush upon the picket, and mine +will swoop upon the gate bearing the tins of kerosene oil, the faggots +and the brushwood. All those with guns will fire at the walls save the +Border State company who will reserve their fire till the gate is opened +or burnt down. The dogs within must either open it to extinguish the +fire, or it must burn. On their volley, all others will charge for the +gate with knife and sword. Do thou win the hill-top and keep up a heavy +fire into the Prison. There will be Lee-Metford rifles and ammunition +there ready for thy taking--ha-ha!" + +"And if we are seen and fired on as we stalk the picket on the hill?" + +"Then their first shot will, as I said, be the signal for your rush and +ours. Understandest thou?" + +"I understand. 'Tis a good plan of the blind Moulvie's." + +"Aye! He can _plan_,--and talk. We can go and be shot, and be blamed if +his plans miscarry," grumbled the big man, and added, "How many have +you?" + +"About forty," was the reply, "and all Khost men save seven, of whom +four are Afghans of Cabul, two are Punjabis, and one a Sikh." + +"Is it three hours since the treasure started? That was the time the +Moulvie fixed for the attack." + +"It must be, perhaps," replied the other. "Let us begin. But what if the +hill be not held, or if we capture it with the knife, none firing a +shot?" + +"Then get into good position, make little sungars where necessary, and, +all being ready, open fire into the Prison compound.... At the first +shot--whatever be thy luck--we shall rush in our thousands down the +Sudder Bazaar, West Street and Edward Street, and do as planned. Are thy +forty beneath the trees beyond the hill?" + +"They are. I join them now," and the squat broad-shouldered figure +rolled away with swinging, swaggering gait. + +Suddenly Private Augustus Grobble started from deep sleep to acutest +wide-eyed consciousness and was aware of a man's face peering over a +boulder not twenty yards from him--a hideous hairy face, surmounted by a +close-fitting skull-cap that shone greasy in the moonlight. The blood of +Augustus froze in his veins, he held his breath, his heart shook his +body, his tongue withered and dried. He closed his eyes as a wave of +faintness swept over him, and, as he opened them again, he saw that the +man was crawling towards him, and that between his teeth was a huge +knife. The terrible Pathan, the cruel dreadful stalker, the slashing +disemboweller was upon him!--and with a mighty effort he sprang to his +feet and fled for his life down the hill in the direction of the Prison. +His sudden movements awoke Private Green, who, in one scared glance, saw +a number of terrible forms arising from behind boulders and rushing +silently and swiftly towards him and his flying comrade. Leaping up he +fled after Grabble, running as he had never run before, and, even as he +leapt clear of the sleeping group, the wave of Pathans broke upon it and +with slash and stab assured it sound sleep for ever, all save Edward +Jones, who, badly wounded as he was, survived (to the later undoing of +Moussa Isa, murderer of a Brahmin boy). + +Of the four Pathans who had surprised the sentry group, one, with a +passing slash that re-arranged the face of Reginald Ladon Gurr, sped on +after the flying sentries. But that the man was short and stout of build +and that the fugitives had a down-hill start, both would have died that +night. As it was, within ten seconds, a tremendous sweep of the heavy +blade of the long Khyber knife caused Private Gosling-Green to lose his +head completely and for the last time. Augustus Grobble, favoured of +fortune for the moment, took flying leaps that would have been +impossible to him under other circumstances, bounded and ran +unstumbling, gained the shadow of the avenue of trees, and with bursting +breast sped down the road, reached the gate, shouted the countersign +with his remaining breath, and was dragged inside by Captain Michael +Malet-Marsac. + +"Well?" inquired he coldly of the gasping terrified wretch. + +When he could do so, Augustus sobbed out his tale. + +"Bugler, sound the alarm!" said the officer. "Sergeant of the Guard put +this man in the guard-room and keep him under arrest until he is sent +for," and, night-glasses in hand, he climbed one of the ladders leading +to the platform erected a few feet below the top of the well-loopholed +wall, just as a shot was fired and followed by others in rapid +succession on the hill whence Grobble had fled. + +The shot was fired by Corporal Horace Faggit and so were the next four +as he rapidly emptied his magazine at the swiftly charging Pathans who +rose out of the earth on his first shot at the man he had seen wriggling +to the cover of a stone. As he fired and shouted, the picket-sentry did +the same, and, within a minute of Horace's first shot, ten rifles were +levelled at the spot where the rushing silent fiends had disappeared. +Within thirty yards of them were at least half a dozen men--and not a +glimpse of one to be seen. + +"I got one, fer keeps, any'ow," said Horace in the silence that followed +the brief racket; "I see 'im drop 'is knife an' fall back'ards...." + +Perfect silence--and then ... _bang_ ... and a man standing beside +Horace grunted, coughed, and scuffled on the ground. + +"Get down! Get down! You fools," cried Horace, who was himself standing +up. "Wha's the good of a square sungar if you stands up in it? All +magazines charged? It's magazine-fire if there's a rush.".... + +Silence. + +"Fire at the next flash, all of yer," he said, "an' look out fer a +rush." Adding, "Bli' me--'ark at 'em dahn below," as a burst of fire +and a pandemonium of yells broke out. + +A yellow glare lit the scene, flickered on the sky, and even gave +sufficient light to the picket on the hill-top to see a wave of wild, +white-clad, knife-brandishing figures surge over the edge of the hill +and bear down upon them, to be joined, as they passed, by those who had +sunk behind stones at the picket's first fire. + +"Stiddy," shrilled Horace. "Aim stiddy at the b----s. _Fire_," and again +the charging line vanished. + +"Gone to earf," observed Horace in the silence. "Nah look aht for +flashes an' shoot at 'em...." + +_Bang!_ and Horace lost a thumb and a portion of his left cheek, which +was in line with his left thumb as he sighted his rifle. + +Before putting his left hand into his mouth he said, a little +unsteadily:-- + +"If I'm knocked aht you go on shootin' at flashes and do magazine-fire +fer rushes. If they gets in 'ere, we're tripe in two ticks." + +Then he fainted for a while, came to, and felt much better. "Goo' job +it's the left fumb," he observed as he strove to re-charge his magazine. +The dull thud of bullet into flesh became a frequent sound. The last +observation that Horace made to the remnant of his men was:-- + +"Bli' me! they're all rahnd us now--like flies rahnd a fish-barrer. Dam' +swine!..." + + * * * * * + +Firing steadily at the advancing mobs the street-end pickets retired on +the Prison and were admitted as the surging crowds amalgamated, +surrounded the walls, and opened a desultory fire at the loopholes and +such of the defenders as fired over the coping from ladders. + +One detachment, with some show of military discipline and uniform, +arrayed itself opposite the gate and a couple of hundred yards from it, +lining the ditch of the road, and utilizing the cover and shadow of the +trees. Suddenly a large party, mainly composed of Mahsuds, and headed by +a very big powerful man, made a swift rush to the gate, each man bearing +a bundle of faggots or a load of cut brushwood, save two or three who +bore vessels of kerosene oil. With reckless courage and daring, they ran +the gauntlet of the loopholes and the fire from the wall-top, piled +their combustibles against the wooden gate, poured gallons of kerosene +over the heap, set fire to it, and fled. + +The leaping flames spread and shot forth licking tongues and, in a few +minutes, the pile was a roaring crackling furnace. + +The mob grew denser and denser toward the gate side of the Prison, +leaving the remaining portions of the perimeter thinly surrounded by +those who possessed firearms and had been instructed to shoot at +loopholes and at all who showed themselves over the wall. It was +noticeable to Captain Malet-Marsac that the ever-increasing mob opposite +the fire left a clear front to the more-or-less uniformed and +disciplined body that had taken up a position commanding the gate. + +That was the game was it? Burn down the gate, pour in a tremendous fire +as the gate fell, and then let the mob rush in and do its devilmost.... + +What was happening on the hill-top? The picket must be holding whatever +force had attacked it, for no shots were entering the Prison compound +and the only casualties were among those at the loopholes and on the +ladders and platforms round the walls. How long would the gate last? +Absolutely useless to attempt to pour water on the fire. Even if it were +not certain death to attempt it, one might as well try to fly, as to +quench that furnace with jugs and _chatties_[69] of water. + + [69] Bowls. + +There was nothing to be done. Every man who could use a rifle was at +loophole or embrasure, ammunition was plentiful, all non-combatants were +hidden. Every one understood the standing-orders in case of such an +emergency.... + +The gate was on fire. It was smoking on the inner side, warping, +cracking, little flames were beginning to appear tentatively, and +disappear again. + +"_Now_ bugler!" said Captain Malet-Marsac, and Moussa Isa's _locum +tenens_ blew his only call--a series of long loud G's.... The gate +blazed, before long it would fall.... A hush fell upon the expectant +multitude without, the men of the more-or-less uniformed and disciplined +party raised their rifles, a big burly man bawled orders.... + +With a crash and leaping fountain of sparks the gate fell into the dying +fire, a mighty roar burst from the multitude, and a crashing fusillade +from the rifles of the uniformed men.... + +As their magazine-fire slackened, dwindled to a desultory popping, and +ceased, the mob with a howl of triumph surged forward to the gaping +gateway, trampled and scattered the glowing remnants of the fire, +swarmed yelling through, and--found themselves face to face with a +stout semicircular rampart of stone, earth and sandbags, which, +loopholed, embrasured and strongly manned, spanned the gateway in a +thirty-yard arc. From the centre of it, pointing at the entrance, looked +the maxim gun. + +"_Fire_," shouted a voice, and in a minute the place was a shambles. +Before Maxim and Lee-Metford were too hot to touch, before the baffled +foe fell back, those who surged in through the gate climbed, not over a +wall of dead, but up on to a platform of dead, a plateau through which +ran a valley literally blasted out by the ceaseless maxim-fire.... + +And, as the less fanatical, less courageous, less bloodthirsty withdrew +and gathered without and to one side, where they were safe from that +terrible fire-belching rampart that was itself like the muzzle of some +gigantic thousand-barrelled machine-gun, they were aware, in their rear, +of a steady tramp of running feet and of the orders:-- + +"From the centre _extend_! At the enemy in front; fixed sights; _fire_," +and of a withering hail of bullets. + +Colonel Ross-Ellison had arrived in the nick of time. It was a "crowning +mercy" indeed, the beginning of the end, and when (a few days later), +over a repaired bridge, came a troop-train, gingerly advancing, the +battalion of British troops that it disgorged at Gungapur Road Station +found disappointingly little to do in a city of women, children, and +eminently respectable innocent, householders. + + * * * * * + +On the hill-top, at dawn, Colonel Ross-Ellison and Captain Malet-Marsac +found all that was left of the picket and sentry-group,--of the latter, +three mangled corpses, the headless deserter, and a just-living man, +horribly slashed. It was Moussa Isa Somali who improvised a stretcher +and lifted this poor fellow on to it and tended him with the greatest +solicitude and faithful care. Was he not Jones Sahib who at Duri gave +him the knife wherewith he cleansed his honour and avenged his insulted +People? + +Of the picket, nine lay dead and one dying. Of the dead, one had his +lower jaw neatly and cleanly removed by a bullet. Two had bled to death. + +"'Ullo, Guvner!" whispered Corporal Horace Faggit through parched +cracked lips. "We kep' 'em orf. We 'eld the bleedin' fort," and the last +effect of the departing mind upon the shot-torn, knife-slashed body was +manifested in a gasping, quavering wail of-- + + "'Owld the Fort fer Hi am comin'" + Jesus whispers still. + "'Owld the Fort fer Hi am comin,'" + --By Thy graice we will. + +Each of these corpses Moussa Isa carried reverently down to the Prison +that they might be "buried darkly at dead of night" with the other +heroes, in softer ground without the walls--a curious funeral in which +loaded rifles and belted maxim played their silent part. Apart from the +honoured dead was buried the body of Private Augustus Grabble, shot +against the Prison wall by order of Colonel Ross-Ellison for cowardice +in the face of the enemy and desertion of his post. So was that of +Private Green, deserter also. After the uninterrupted ceremony, Moussa +Isa, in the guise of an ancient beggar, lame, decrepit, and bandaged +with foul rags, sought the city and the news of the bazaar. + +Limping down the lane in which stood the tall silent house that his +master often visited, he saw three men emerge from the well-known low +doorway. + +Two approached him while one departed in the opposite direction. One of +these two held the arm of the other. + +"I must hear his voice again. I have not heard his voice again," urged +this one insistently to the other. + +"Nay--but I have heard thine, thou Dog!" said Moussa Isa to himself, and +turning, followed. + +In a neighbouring bazaar the man who seemed to lead the other left him +at the entrance to a mosque--a dark and greasy entry with a short flight +of stone steps. + +As he set his foot upon the lowest of these, a hand fell upon the neck +of the man who had been led, and a voice hissed:-- + +"_Salaam! O Ibrahim the Weeper!_ Salaam! A '_Hubshi_' would speak with +thee...." and another hand joined the first, encircling his throat.... + +"Art thou dead, Dog?" snarled Moussa Isa, five minutes later.... + +Moussa Isa never boasted (if he realized the fact) that the collapse of +the revolt and mutiny in Gungapur, before the arrival of troops, was due +as much to the death of its chief ringleader and director, the blind +faquir, as to the disastrous repulse of the great assault upon the +Military Prison. + + + + + +§ 2. + + +It had gone. Nothing remained but to clear up the mess and begin afresh +with more wisdom and sounder policy. It was over, and, among other +things now possible, Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison might ask the woman +he loved whether she could some day become his wife. He had saved her +life, watched over her, served her with mind and body, lived for her. +And she had smiled upon him, looked at him as a woman looks at the man +she more than likes, had given him the encouragement of her smiles, her +trust, affectionate greeting on return from danger, prayers that he +would be "careful" when he went forth to danger. + +He believed that she loved him, and would, after a decent interval, even +perhaps a year hence, marry him. + +And then he would abandon the old life and ways, become wholly English +and settle down to make her life a happy walk through an enchanted +valley. He would take her to England and there, far from all sights, +sounds and smells of the East, far from everything wild, turbulent, +violent, crush out all the Pathan instincts so terribly aroused and +developed during the late glorious time of War. He would take himself +cruelly in hand. He would neither hunt nor shoot. He would eat no meat, +drink no alcohol, nor seek excitement. He would school himself until he +was a quiet, domesticated English country-gentleman--respectable and +respected, fit husband for a delicately-bred English gentlewoman. And if +ever his hand itched for the knife-hilt, his finger for the trigger, +his cheek for the rifle-butt, his nostrils for the smell of the +cooking-fires, his soul for the wild mountain passes, the mad gallop, +the stealthy stalk--he would live on cold water until the Old Adam were +drowned. + +He _would_ be worthy of her--and she should never dream what blood was +on his hands, what sights he had looked on, what deeds he had done, what +part he had played in wild undertakings in wild places. English would he +be to the back-bone, to the finger tips, to the marrow; a quiet, clean, +straight-dealing Englishman of normal tastes, habits, and life. + +Strange if, with all his love of fighting, he could not fight (and +conquer) himself. Yes--his last great fight should be with himself.... +He would call, to-day, at the bungalow to which Mrs. Dearman, prior to +starting for Home, had removed as soon as the carefully-guarded +Cantonment area was pronounced absolutely safe as a place of residence +for the refugees who had been besieged in the old Military Prison. + +She would be sufficiently "straight" in her bungalow, by this time, to +permit of a formal mid-day call being a reasonable and normal affair.... + +"Good-morning, Preserver of Gungapur," said Mrs. Dearman brightly; "have +the Victoria Cross and the Distinguished Service Order materialized +yet--or don't they give them to Volunteers? What a shame if they don't!" + +"I want something far more valuable and desirable than those, Mrs. +Dearman," said Colonel Ross-Ellison as he took the extended hand of his +hostess, who was a picture of coolness and health. + +"Oh?--and--what is that?" she asked, seating herself on a big settee +with her back to the light. + +"You," was the direct and uncompromising reply of the man who had been +leading a remarkably direct and uncompromising life for several years. + +Mrs. Dearman trembled, flushed and paled. + +"What _do_ you mean?" she managed to say, with a fine affectation of +coolness, unconcern, and indifference. + +"I mean what I say," was the answer. "I want _you_. I cannot live +without you. I want to take care of you. I want to devote my life to +making you happy. I want to make you forget this terrible experience and +tragedy. You are lonely and I worship you. I want you to marry me--when +you can--later--and let me serve you for the rest of my life. Make me +the happiest and proudest man in the world and I will strive to be the +noblest." + +He was very English then--in his fine passion. He took her hand and it +was not withdrawn. He bent to look in her eyes, she smiled, and in a +second was in his embrace, strained to his breast, her lips crushed by +his. + +For a minute he could not speak. + +"I cannot believe it," he whispered at length. "Is this a dream?" + +"You are a very concrete dream--dear," said Mrs. Dearman, re-arranging +crushed and disarranged flowers at her breast, blushing and laughing +shyly. + +The man was filled with awe, reverence and a deep longing for +worthiness. + +The woman felt happy in the sense of safety, of power, of pride in the +love of so fine a being. + +"And how long have you loved me?" she murmured. + +"Loved you, Cleopatra? Dearest--I have loved you from the moment my eyes +first fell on you.... Poor salt-encrusted, weary, bloodshot eyes they +were too," he added, smiling, reminiscent. + +"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Dearman, puzzled. + +"Ah--I have a secret to tell you--a confession that will open those +beautiful eyes wide with surprise. I first saw you when you _were_ +Cleopatra Brighte." + +"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Dearman in great surprise. "When_ever_ +when?" + +"I'll tell you," said the man, smiling fondly. "You have my photograph. +You took it yourself--on board the 'Malaya'." + +"I?" said Mrs. Dearman. "What _are_ you talking about?" + +"About you, dearest, and the time when I first saw you--and fell in love +with you;--love at first sight, indeed." + +"But I never photographed you on board ship. I never saw you on a ship. +I met you first here in Gungapur." + +"Do you remember the 'Malaya' stopping to pick up a shipwrecked sailor, +a castaway, in a little dug-out canoe, somewhere in the Indian Ocean, +when you were first coming out to India? But of course you do--you have +the snap-shot in your collection...." + +"Why--yes--I remember, of course--but that was a horrid, beastly +_native_. The creature could only speak Hindustani. He was the sole +survivor of the crew of some dhow or bunder-boat, they said.... He lived +and worked with the Lascars till we got to Bombay. Yes...." + +"I was that native," said Colonel Ross-Ellison. + +"_You_," whispered Mrs. Dearman. "_You_," and scanned his face intently. + +"Yes. I. I _am_ half a native. My father was a Pathan. He----" + +"_What_?" asked the woman hoarsely, drawing away. "_What_? _What_ are +you saying?" + +"I am half Pathan--my father was a Pathan and my mother an Australian +squatter's daughter." + +"_Go_," shrieked Mrs. Dearman, springing to her feet. "_Go_. You wretch! +You mean, base liar! To cheat me so! To pretend you were a gentleman. +Leave my house! Go! You horrible--_mongrel_--you----. To take me in your +arms! To make love to me! To kiss me! Ugh! I could die for shame! I +could _die_----" + +The face of the man grew terrible to see. There was no trace of the West +in it, no sign of English ancestry, the face of a mad, blood-mad Afghan. + +"_We will both die_," he gasped, and took her by the throat. + + * * * * * + +A few minutes later a Pathan in the dirty dress of his race fled from +Colonel Ross-Ellison's bungalow in Cantonments and took the road to the +city. + +Threading his way through its tortuous lanes, alleys, slums and bazaars +he reached a low door in the high wall that surrounded an almost +windowless house, knocked in a particular manner, parleyed, and was +admitted. + +The moment he was inside, the custodian of the door slammed, locked and +bolted it, and then raised an outcry. + +"Come," he shouted in Pushtoo. "The Spy! The Feringhi! The +Pushtoo-knowing English dog, that Abdulali Habbibullah," and he drew his +Khyber knife and circled round Ross-Ellison. + +A clatter of heavy boots, the opening of wooden "windows" that looked +inward on to the high-walled courtyard, and in a minute a throng of +Pathans and other Mussulmans entered the compound from the house--some +obviously aroused from heavy slumber. + +"It is he," cried one, a squat, broad-shouldered fellow, as they stood +at gaze, and long knives flashed. + +"Oho, Spy! Aha, Dog! For what hast thou come?" asked one burly fellow as +he advanced warily upon the intruder, who backed slowly to the angle of +the high walls. + +"To die, Hidayetullah. To die, Nazir Ali Khan. To die slaying! Come on!" +was the reply, and in one moment the speaker's Khyber knife flashed from +his loose sleeve into the throat of the nearest foe. + +As he withdrew it, the door-keeper slashed at his abdomen, missed by a +hair's-breadth, raised his arm to save his neck from a slash, and was +stabbed to the heart, the knife held dagger-wise. Another Pathan rushing +forward, with uplifted knife held as a sword, was met by a sudden low +fencing-lunge and fell with a hideous wound, and then, whirling his +weapon like a claymore in an invisibly rapid Maltese cross of flashing +steel, the man who had been Ross-Ellison drove his enemies before him, +whirled about, and established himself in the opposite corner, and spat +pungent Border taunts at the infuriated crowd. + +"Come on, you village curs, you landless cripples, you wifeless sons of +burnt fathers! Come on! Strike for the credit of your noseless mothers! +Run not from me as your wives ran from you--to better men! Come on, you +sweepers, you swine-herds, you down-country street-scrapers!" and they +came on to heart's content, steel clashed on steel and thudded on flesh +and bone. + +"Get a rifle," cried one, lying bleeding on the ground, striving to rise +while he held his right shoulder to his neck with his partly severed +left hand. As he fainted the shoulder gaped horribly. + +"Get a cannon," mocked Ross-Ellison. "Get a cannon, dogs, against one +man," and again, whirling the great jade-handled knife, long as a short +sword, he rushed forward and the little mob gave ground before the +irresistible claymore-whirl, the unbreakable Maltese cross described by +the razor-edge and needle-point. + +"It is a devil," groaned a man, as his knife and his hand fell together +to the ground, and he clapped his turban on the stump as a boy claps his +hat upon some small creature that he would capture. + +The madman whirled about in the third corner and, as he ceased the wild +whirl, ducked low and lunged, lessening the number of his enemies by +one. This lunge was a new thing to men who could only slash and stab, a +new thing and a terrible, for it could not be parried save by seizing +the blade and losing half a hand. + +"Come on, you growing maidens! Come on, grandmothers! Come on, you +cleaners of pig-skins, you washers of dogs! Come on!" and as he +shouted, the door crashed down and a patrol of British soldiers, +attracted by the noise, and delayed by the stout door, burst into the +courtyard. + +"At the henemy in front, fixed sights," shouted the corporal in charge. +And added an order not to be found in the drill-book: "Blow 'em to 'ell +if they budges." + +In the hush of surprise his voice arose, addressing the fighters: +"_Bus_[70] you bleedin' soors,[71]" said Corporal Cook. "_Bus_; and you +_dekho_[72] 'ere. If any of you _jaos_[73] from where 'e is, I'll +_pukkaro_[74] 'im and give 'im a punch in the _dekho_." + + [70] Enough, stop. + [71] Swine. + [72] Look. + [73] Jao = go (imperative). + [74] Seize (imperative). + +And, as bayonets rose breast-high and fingers curled lovingly round +triggers, every knife but that of Ross-Ellison disappeared as by magic, +and the Corporal beheld a little crowd of innocent men endeavouring to +secure a dangerous lunatic at the risk of their lives--terrible risk, as +the bodies of five dead and dying men might testify. + +"I give myself up to you as a murderer, Corporal," said he who had been +Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison. "I am a murderer. If you will take me +before your officer I will confess and give details." + +"I'm agoin' to take you bloomin' well all," replied the surprised +Corporal. "Chuck down that there beastly carvin' knife. You seem a too +'andy cove wiv' it." + +At the Corporal's order of, "Prod 'em all up agin that wall and shoot +any bloke as moves 'and or 'oof," the party of panting, bleeding and +perspiring ruffians was lined up, relieved of its weapons, and duly +marched to the guard-room. + +Here, one of the gang (later identified as the man who had been known +as John Robin Ross-Ellison, and who insisted that he was a Baluchi) +declared that he had just murdered Mrs. Dearman in her drawing-room and +made a full statement--a statement found to be only too true, its +details corroborated by a trembling _hamal_ who had peeped and listened, +as all Indian servants peep and listen. + + * * * * * + +Duly tried, all members of the gang received terms of imprisonment +(largely a prophylactic measure), save the extraordinary +English-speaking Baluchi, who had long imposed, it was said, upon +Gungapur Society in the days before that Society had disappeared in the +cataclysm. + +A few days before the date fixed for the execution of this very +remarkable desperado, Captain Michael Malet-Marsac, Adjutant of the +Gungapur Volunteer Corps, received two letters dated from Gungapur Jail, +one covering the other. The covering letter ran:-- + +"MY DEAR MALET-MARSAC, + +"I forward the enclosed. Should you desire to attend the execution you +could accompany the new City Magistrate, Wellson, who will doubtless be +agreeable. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"A. RANALD, Major I.M.S." + +The accompaniment was from John Robin Ross-Ellison Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan. + +"MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, + +"For the credit of the British I am pretending to be a Baluchi. I am not +a Baluchi and I hope to die like a Briton--at any rate like a man. I +have been held responsible for what I did when I was not responsible, +and shall be killed in cold blood by sane people, for what I did in hot +blood when quite as mad as any madman who ever lived. I don't +complain--I _ex_plain. I want you to understand, if you can, that it was +not your friend John Ross-Ellison who did that awful deed. It was a +Pathan named Ilderim Dost Mahommed. And yet it was I." ["Poor chap is +mad!" murmured the bewildered and horrified reader who had lived in a +kind of nightmare since the woman he loved had been murdered by the man +he loved. "The strain of the war has been too much for him. He must have +had sunstroke too." He read on, with misty sight.] + +"And it is I who will pay the penalty of Ilderim Dost Mahommed's deed. +As I say, I do not complain, and if the Law did not kill me I would +certainly kill myself--to get rid of Ilderim Dost Mahommed. + +"I have thought of doing so and cheating the scaffold, but have decided +that Ilderim will get his deserts better if I hang, and I may perhaps +get rid of him, thus, for ever. + +"Will you come? I would not ask it of any living soul but you, and I ask +it because your presence would show me that you blindly believe that it +was not John Robin Ross-Ellison who killed poor Mrs. Dearman, and that +would enable me to die quite happy. Your presence would also be a great +help to me. It would help me to feel that, whatever I have lived, I die +a Briton--that if I could not live without Ilderim Dost Mahommed I can +die without him. But this must seem lunatic wanderings to you. + +"I apologize for writing to you and I hesitated long. At length I said, +'I will tell him the truth--that the deed was not done by Ross-Ellison +and perhaps he will understand, and come'. Mike--_John Robin +Ross-Ellison did not murder Mrs. Dearman_. + +"Your distracted and broken-hearted ex-friend, + +"J.R. ROSS-ELLISON." + +"He _was_ 'queer' at times," said Captain Michael Malet-Marsac. "There +was a kink somewhere. The bravest, coolest, keenest chap I ever met, the +finest fighting-man, the truest comrade and friend,--and from time to +time something queer peeped out, and one was puzzled.... Madness in the +family, I suppose.... Poor devil, poor, poor devil!" and Captain +Malet-Marsac stamped about and swore, for his eyes tingled and his chin +quivered. + + + +§ 3. + + +Captain Michael Malet-Marsac alighted from his horse at the great gate +of the Gungapur Jail, loosed girths, slid stirrup irons up the leathers +to the saddle, and handed his reins to the orderly who had ridden behind +him. + +"Walk the horses up and down," said he, for both were sweating and the +morning was very cold. Perhaps it was the cold that made Captain Michael +Malet-Marsac's strong face so white, made his teeth chatter and his +hands shake. Perhaps it was the cold that made him feel so sick, and +that weakened the tendons of his knees so that he could scarcely +stand--and would fain have thrown himself upon the ground. + +With a curious coughing sound, as though he swallowed and cleared his +throat at the same moment, he commenced to address another order or +remark to the mounted sepoy, choked, and turned his back upon him. + +Striding to the gate, he struck upon it loudly with his hunting-crop, +and turning, waved the waiting orderly away. + +Not for a king's ransom could he have spoken at that moment. He realized +that something which was rising in his throat must be crushed back and +swallowed before speech would be possible. If he tried to speak before +that was done--he would shame his manhood, he would do that which was +unthinkable in a man and a soldier. What would happen if the little iron +wicket in the great iron door in the greater wooden gates opened before +he had swallowed the lump in his throat, had crushed down the rising +tumult of emotion, and a European official, perhaps Major Ranald +himself, spoke to him? He must either refuse to answer, and show himself +too overcome for speech--or he must--good God forbid it--burst into +tears. He suffered horribly. His skin tingled and he burnt hotly from +head to foot. + +And then--he swallowed, his will triumphed--and he was again as +outwardly self-possessed and nonchalant as he strove to appear. + +He might tremble, his face might be blanched and drawn, he might feel +physically sick and almost too weak and giddy to stand, but he had +swallowed, he had triumphed over the rising flood that had threatened +to engulf him, and he was, outwardly, himself again. He could go through +with it now, and though his face might be ghastly, his lips white, his +hand uncertain, his gait considered and careful, he would he able to +chat lightly, to meet Ross-Ellison's jest with jest--for that +Ross-Ellison would die jesting he knew.... + +Why did not the door open? Had his knock gone unheard? Should he knock +again, louder? And then his eye fell upon the great iron bell-pull and +chain, and he stepped towards it. Of course--one entered a place like +this on the sonorous clanging of a deep-throated bell that roused the +echoes of the whole vast congeries of buildings encircled by the hideous +twelve-foot wall, unbroken save by the great gatehouse before which he +stood insignificant. As his shaking hand touched the bell-pull he +suddenly remembered, and withdrew it. He was to meet the City Magistrate +outside the jail and enter with him. He could gain admittance in no +other way. + +He looked at his watch. Seventeen minutes to seven. Wellson should be +there in a minute--he had said, "At the jail-entrance at 6.45". God send +him soon or the new-found self-control might weaken and a rising tide +creep up and up until it submerged his will-power again. + +With an effort he swallowed, and turning, strode up and down on a rapid, +mechanical sentry-go. + +A guard of police-sepoys emerged from a neighbouring guard-room and +"fell in" under the word of command of an Inspector. They were armed +with Martini-Henry rifles and triangular-bladed bayonets, very long. +Their faces looked cruel, the stones of the gate-house and main-guard +looked cruel, the beautiful misty morning looked cruel. + +Would that damned magistrate never come? Didn't he know that +Malet-Marsac was fighting for his manhood and terribly afraid? Didn't he +know that unless he came quickly Malet-Marsac would either leap on his +horse and ride it till it fell, or else lose control inside the jail and +either burst into tears, faint, or--going mad--put up a fight for his +friend there in the jail itself, snatch weapons, get back to back with +him and die fighting then and there--or, later, on the same scaffold? +His friend--by whose side he had fought, starved, suffered, +triumphed--his poor two-natured friend.... + +Could not one of these cursed clever physicians, alienists, +psychologists, hypnotists--whatever they were--have cut the strange +savagery and ferocity out of the splendid John Robin Ross-Ellison?... + +A buffalo passed, driven by a barely human lout. The lout was free--the +brainless, soulless bovine lout was free in God's beautiful world--and +Ross-Ellison, soldier and gentleman, lay in a stone cell, and in quarter +of an hour would dangle by the neck in a pit below a platform--perhaps +suffering unthinkable agonies--who could tell?... His old friend and +commandant-- + +Would Wellson never come? What kept the fellow? It was disgraceful +conduct on the part of a public servant in such circumstances. Think +what an eternity of mental suffering each minute must now be to +Ross-Ellison! What was he doing? What were they doing to him? _Could_ +the agony of Ross-Ellison be greater than that of Malet-Marsac? It must +be a thousand times greater. How could that tireless activity, that +restless initiative, that cool courage, that unfathomable ingenuity be +quenched in a second? How could such a wild free nature exist in a cell, +submit to pinioning, be quietly led like a sheep to the slaughter? He +who so loved the mountain, the wild desert, the ocean, the free +wandering life of adventure and exploration. + +Would Wellson never come? It must be terribly late. Could they have +hanged Ross-Ellison already? Could he have gone to his death thinking +his friend had failed him; had passed by, like the Levite, on the other +side; had turned up a sanctimonious nose at the letter of the Murderer; +had behaved as some "friends" do behave in time of trouble? + +Could he have died thinking this? If so, he must now know the truth, if +the Parsons were right, those unconvincing very-human Parsons of like +passions, and pretence of unlike passions. Could his friend be dead, his +friend whom he had so loved and admired? And yet he was a murderer--and +he had murdered ... _her_.... + +Captain Michael Malet-Marsac leant against a tree and was violently +sick. + +Curse the weak frail body that was failing him in his hour of need! It +had never failed him in battle nor in athletic struggle. Why should it +weaken now. He _would_ see his friend, and bear himself as a man, to +help him in his dreadful hour. + +Would that scoundrel never come? He was the one who should be hanged. + +A clatter of hoofs behind, and Malet-Marsac turned to see the City +Magistrate trot across the road from the open country. He drew out his +watch accusingly and as a torrent of reproach rose to his white parched +lips, he saw that the time was--exactly quarter to seven. + +"'Morning, Marsac," said the City Magistrate as he swung down from the +saddle. "You're looking precious blue about the gills." + +"'Morning, Wellson," replied the other shortly. + +To the City Magistrate a hanging was no more than a hair-cut, a neither +pleasing nor displeasing interlude, hindering the doing of more +strenuous duties; a nuisance, cutting into his early-morning +report--writing and other judicial work. He handed his reins to an +obsequious sepoy, eased his jodhpores at the knee, and rang the bell. + +The grille-cover slid back, a dusky face appeared behind the bars and +scrutinized the visitors, the grille was closed again and the tiny door +opened. Malet-Marsac stepped in over the foot-high base of the door-way +and found himself in a kind of big gloomy strong-room in which were +native warders and a jailer with a bunch of huge keys. On either side of +the room was an office. Following Wellson to a large desk, on which +reposed a huge book, he wrote his name, address, and business, +controlling his shaking hand by a powerful effort of will. + +This done, and the entrance-door being again locked, bolted, and barred, +the jailer led the way to another pair of huge gates opposite the pair +through which they had entered, and opened a similar small door therein. +Through this Malet-Marsac stepped and found himself, light-dazzled, in +the vast enclosure of Gungapur Jail, a small town of horribly-similar +low buildings, painfully regular streets, soul-stunning uniformity, and +living death. + +"'Morning, Malet-Marsac," said Major Ranald of the Indian Medical +Service, Superintendent of the jail. "You look a bit blue about the +gills, what?" + +"'Morning, Ranald," replied Malet-Marsac, "I _am_ a little cold." + +Was he really speaking? Was that voice his? He supposed so. + +Could he pretend to gaze round with an air of intelligent interest? He +would try. + +A line of convicts, clad in a kind of striped sacking, stood with their +backs to a wall while a native warder strode up and down in front of +them, watching another convict placing brushes and implements before +them. Suddenly the warder spoke to the end man, an elderly stalwart +fellow, obviously from the North. The reply was evidently +unsatisfactory, perhaps insolent, for the warder suddenly seized the +grey beard of the convict, tugged his head violently from side to side, +shook him, and then smote him hard on either cheek. The elderly convict +gave no sign of having felt either the pain or the indignity, but gazed +straight over the warder's head. Of what was he thinking? Of what might +be the fate of that warder were he suddenly transported to the wilds of +Kathiawar, to lie at the mercy of his late victim and the famous band of +outlaws whom he had once led to fame--a fame as wide as Ind? + +There was something fine about the old villain, once a real Robin Hood, +something mean about the little tyrant. + +Had Ranald seen the incident? No, he stood with his back to a buttress +looking in the opposite direction. Did he always stand with a wall +behind him in this terrible place? How could he live in it? A minute of +it made one sick if one were cursed with imagination. Oh, the horror of +the prison system--especially for brave men, men with a code of honour +of their own--possibly sometimes a higher code than that of the average +British politician, not to mention the be-knighted cosmopolitan +financier, friend of princes and honoured of kings. + +Could not men be segregated in a place of peace and beauty and improved, +instead of being segregated in a dull hell and crushed? What a home of +soulless, hopeless horror!... And his friend was here.... Could he +contain himself?... He must say something. + +"Do you always keep your back to a wall when standing still, in here?" +he asked of Major Ranald. + +"I do," was the reply, "and I walk with a trustworthy man close behind +me." "Would you like to go round, sometime?" he added. + +"No, thank you," said Malet-Marsac. "I would like to get as far away as +possible and stay there." + +Major Ranald laughed. + +"Wouldn't like to visit the mortuary and see a post-mortem?" + +"No, thank you." + +"What about the Holy One?" put in the City Magistrate. "Did you +'autopsy' him? A pleasure to hang a chap like him." + +"Yes, the brute. I'll show you his neck vertebrae presently if you like. +Kept 'em as a curiosity. An absolute break of the bone itself. People +talk about pain, strangulation, suffocation and all that. Nothing of +the sort. Literally breaks the neck. Not mere separation of the +vertebrae you know. I'll show you the vertebra itself--clean broken...." + +Captain Malet-Marsac swayed on his feet. What should he do? A blue mist +floated before his eyes and a sound of rushing waters filled his ears. +Was he fainting? He must _not_ faint, and fail his friend. And then, the +roar of the waters was pierced and dominated by the voice of that friend +saying-- + +"Hul_lo_! old bird. Awf'ly good of you to turn out, such a beastly cold +morning." + +John Robin Ross-Ellison had come round an adjacent corner, a European +warder on either side of him and another behind him, all three, to their +credit, as white as their white uniforms and helmets. On his head was a +curious bag-like cap. + +Ross-Ellison appeared perfectly cheerful, absolutely natural, and +without the slightest outward and visible sign of any form of +perturbation. + +"'Morning, Ranald," he continued. "Sorry to be the cause of turning you +out in the cold. Gad! _isn't_ it parky. Hope you aren't going to keep me +standing. If I might be allowed I'd quote unto you the words which a +pretty American girl once used when I asked if I might kiss her--'_Wade +right in, Bub!_'" + +"'Fraid I can't 'wade in' till seven o'clock--er--Ross-Ellison," +answered the horribly embarrassed Major Ranald. "It won't be long." + +"Right O, I was only thinking of your convenience. _I'm_ all right," +said the remarkable criminal, about to suffer by the Mosaic law at the +hands of Christians, to receive Old Testament mercy from the disciples +of the New, to be done-by as he had done. + +An Indian clerk, salaaming, joined the group, and prepared to read from +an official-looking document. + +"Read," said Major Ranald, and the clerk in a high sing-song voice, +regardless of punctuation, read out the charge, conviction and +death-warrant of the man formerly calling himself John Robin +Ross-Ellison, and now professing and confessing himself to be a Baluchi. +Having finished, the clerk smiled as one well pleased with a duty well +performed, salaamed and clacked away in his heelless slippers. + +"It is my duty to inquire whether you have anything to say or any last +request to make," said Major Ranald to the prisoner. + +"Well, I've only to say that I'm sorry to cause all this fuss, y' +know--and, well, yes, I _would_ like a smoke," replied the condemned +man, and added hastily: "Don't think I want to delay things for a moment +though--but if there is time...." + +"It is four minutes to seven," said Major Ranald, "and tobacco and +matches are not supposed to be found in a Government Jail." + +Ross-Ellison winked at the Major and glanced at a bulge on the right +side of the breast of the Major's coat. + +At this moment the warder standing behind the condemned man seized both +his wrists, drew them behind him and fastened them with a broad, strong +strap. + +"H'm! That's done it, I suppose," said the murderer. "Can't smoke +without my hands. Queer idea too--never thought of it before. Can't +smoke without hands.... Rather late in life to realize it, what?" + +"Oh, yes, you can," said the Major, drawing his big silver cheroot-case +from his pocket and selecting a cheroot. Placing it between the +prisoner's lips he struck a match and held it to the end of the cigar. +Ross-Ellison drew hard and the cigar was lit. He puffed luxuriously and +sighed. + +"Gad! That's good," he said, "May some one do as much for you, old chap, +when _you_ come to be--er--no, I don't mean that, of course.... Haven't +had a smoke for weeks. Yes--you can smoke without hands after all--but +not for long without feeling the inconvenience. I used to know an +American (wicked old gun-running millionaire he was, Cuba way, and down +South too) who could change his cigar from one corner of his mouth right +across to the other with his tongue. Fascinatin' sight to watch...." + +Captain Malet-Marsac swallowed continuously, lest he lose the faculty of +swallowing--and be choked. + +Major Ranald looked at his watch. + +"Two minutes to seven. Come on," he said, and took the cheroot from the +prisoner's mouth. + +"Good-bye, Mike," said that person to the swallowing fainting wretch. +"Don't try and say anything. I know exactly what you feel. Sorry we +can't shake hands," and he stepped off in the wake of Major Ranald, +closely guarded by three warders. + +The City Magistrate and Captain Malet-Marsac followed. At Major Ranald's +knock, the small inner door of the gate-house was opened and the +procession filed through it into the strong room where the warders +stood to attention. Having re-fastened the door, the jailer opened the +outer one and the procession passed out of the jail into the blessed +free world, the world that might be such a place of wonder, beauty, +delight, health and joy, were man not educated to materialism, false +ideals, false standards, and blind strife for nothing worth. + +The sepoy-guard stood in a semicircle from the gate-house to the +entrance to a door-way in the jail-wall. Ross-Ellison took his last look +at the sky, the distant hills, the trees, God's good world, and then +turned into the doorless door-way with his jailers, and faced the +scaffold in a square, roofless cell. The warder behind him drew the cap +down over his face, and he was led up a flight of shallow stairs on to a +platform on which was a roughly-chalked square where two hinged flaps +met. As he stood on this spot the noose of the greased rope was placed +round his neck by a warder who then looked to Major Ranald for a sign, +received it, and pulled over a lever which withdrew the bolts supporting +the hinged flaps. These fell apart, Ross-Ellison dropped through the +platform, and Christian Society was avenged. + +Without a word, Captain Malet-Marsac strode, as in a dream, to his +horse, rode home, and, as in a dream, entered his sanctum, took his +revolver from its holster and loaded it. + +Laying it on the table beside him, he sat down to write a few words to +the Colonel of his regiment, Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley of the 99th +Baluch Light Infantry, and to send his will to a brother-officer whom he +wished to be his executor. + +This done, he took up the revolver, placed the muzzle in his mouth, the +barrel pointing upward, and--pulled the trigger. + +_Click_! + +And nothing more. + +A tiny, nerve-shattering, world-shaking, little universe-rocking +_click_--and nothing more. + +A bad cartridge. He remembered complaints about the revolver ammunition +from the Duri Small Arms Ammunition Factory. Too long in stock. + +Should he try the same one again, or go on to the next? Probably get +better results from the first, as the cap would be already dented by the +concussion. He took the muzzle of the big revolver from his aching mouth +and, releasing the chamber, spun it round.... He would place it to his +temple this time. Holding one's mouth open was undignified. He raised +the revolver--and John Bruce burst into the room. He had seen +Malet-Marsac ride by, and knew where he had been. + +"Half a second!" he shouted. "News! Do that afterwards." + +"What is it?" asked Malet-Marsac, taken by surprise. + +"Put that beastly thing in the drawer while I tell you, then. It might +go off. I hate pistols," said Bruce. + +Malet-Marsac obeyed. Bruce was a man to be listened to, and what had to +be done could be done when he had gone. If it were some last piece of +duty or service, it should be seen to. + +"It is this," said Bruce. "You are a liar, a forger, a thief, a dirty +pickpocket, a coward, a seller of secrets to Foreign Powers," and, ere +the astounded soldier could speak, John Bruce sprang at him and tried to +knock him out. "Take that you greasy cad--and fight me if you dare," he +shouted as the other dodged his punch. + +Malet-Marsac sprang to his feet, furious, and returned the blow. In a +second the men were fighting fiercely, coolly, murderously. + +Bruce was the bigger, stronger, more scientific, and there could be but +one result, given ordinary luck. It was a long, severe, and punishing +affair. + +"Time," gasped Malet-Marsac at length, and dropped his hands. +"Get--breath--fight--decently--time--'nother round--after," and as he +spoke Bruce knocked him down and out, proceeding instantly to tie his +feet with the punkah-cord and his hands with two handkerchiefs and a +pair of braces. This done, he carried him into his bedroom, and laid him +on the bed, and sprinkled his face with water. + +Malet-Marsac blinked and stirred. + +"Awful sorry, old chap," said Bruce at length. "I thought it the best +plan. Will you give me your word to chuck the suicide idea, or do you +want some more?" + +"You damned fool! I...." began the trussed one. + +"Yes, I know--but I solemnly swear I won't untie you, nor let anybody +else, until you've promised." + +Malet-Marsac swore violently, struggled valiantly and, anon, slept. + +When he awoke, ten hours later, he informed Bruce, sitting by the bed, +that he had no intention of committing suicide.... + +Years later, as a grey-haired Major, he learnt, from the man's own +brother, the story of the strange hero who had fascinated him, and of +whose past he had known nothing--save that it had been that of a _man_. + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Driftwood Spars, by Percival Christopher Wren + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRIFTWOOD SPARS *** + +***** This file should be named 11691-8.txt or 11691-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/6/9/11691/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Driftwood Spars + The Stories of a Man, a Boy, a Woman, and Certain Other People Who + Strangely Met Upon the Sea of Life + + +Author: Percival Christopher Wren + +Release Date: March 23, 2004 [EBook #11691] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRIFTWOOD SPARS *** + + + + +Produced by Ted Garvin and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + + + + + +DRIFTWOOD SPARS + +THE STORIES OF A MAN, A BOY, A WOMAN, AND CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE WHO +STRANGELY MET UPON THE SEA OF LIFE + +BY + +CAPTAIN PERCIVAL CHRISTOPHER WREN, I.A.R. + +AUTHOR OF "DEW AND MILDEW", "FATHER GREGORY", "SNAKE AND SWORD", ETC. + + "Like driftwood spars which meet and pass + Upon the boundless ocean-plain, + So on the sea of life, alas! + Man nears man, meets, and leaves again" + +--MATTHEW ARNOLD + + + + +TO THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED WIFE + + + + +NOTE.--This book was written in the year 1912 + + + + +CONTENTS. + +I. THE MAN (Mainly concerning the early life of John, Robin +Ross-Ellison.) + +II. THE BOY (Mainly concerning the life of Moussa Isa Somali.) + +III. THE WOMAN (And Augustus Grabble; General Murger; Sergeant-Major +Lawrence-Smith; Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr. Horace Faggit; +as well as a reformed JOHN ROBIN ROSS-ELLISON.) + +IV. "MEET AND LEAVE AGAIN" + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +THE MAN. + +(Mainly concerning the early life of John Robin Ross-Ellison.) + + +Truth is stranger than fiction, and many of the coincidences of real +life are truly stranger than the most daring imaginings of the +fictionist. + +Now, I, Major Michael Malet-Marsac, happened at the moment to be +thinking of my dear and deeply lamented friend John Ross-Ellison, and to +be pondering, for the thousandth time, his extraordinary life and more +extraordinary death. Nor had I the very faintest notion that the +Subedar-Major had ever heard of such a person, much less that he was +actually his own brother, or, to be exact, his half-brother. You see I +had known Ross-Ellison intimately as one only can know the man with whom +one has worked, soldiered, suffered, and faced death. Not only had I +known, admired and respected him--I had loved him. There is no other +word for it; I loved him as a brother loves a brother, as a son loves +his father, as the fighting-man loves the born leader of fighting-men: I +loved him as Jonathan loved David. Indeed it was actually a case of +"passing the love of women" for although he killed Cleopatra Dearman, +the only woman for whom I ever cared, I fear I have forgiven him and +almost forgotten her. + +But to return to the Subedar-Major. "Peace, fool! Art blind as Ibrahim +Mahmud the Weeper," growled that burly Native Officer as the zealous and +over-anxious young sentry cried out and pointed to where, in the +moonlight, the returning reconnoitring-patrol was to be seen as it +emerged from the lye-bushes of the dry river-bed. + +A recumbent comrade of the outpost sentry group sniggered. + +My own sympathies were decidedly with the sentry, for I had fever, and +"fever is another man". In any case, hours of peering, watching, +imagining and waiting, for the attack that will surely come--and never +comes--try even experienced nerves. + +"And who was Ibrahim the Weeper, Subedar-Major Saheb?" I inquired of the +redoubtable warrior as he joined me. + +"He was my brother's enemy, Sahib," replied Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan, principal Native Officer of the 99th Baluch Light Infantry +and member of the ruling family of Mekran Kot in far Kubristan. + +"And what made him so blind as to be for a proverb unto you?" + +"Just some little drops of water, Sahib, nothing more," replied the big +man with a smile that lifted the curling moustache and showed the +dazzling perfect teeth. + +It was bitter, bitter cold--cold as it only can be in hot countries (I +have never felt the cold in Russia as I have in India) and the khaki +flannel shirt, khaki tunic, shorts and putties that had seemed so hot +in the cruel heat of the day as we made our painful way across the +valley, seemed miserably inadequate at night, on the windy hill-top. +Moreover I was in the cold stage of a go of fever, and to have escaped +sunstroke in the natural oven of that awful valley at mid-day seemed but +the prelude to being frost-bitten on the mountain at midnight. +Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan appeared wholly +unaffected by the 100 deg. variation in temperature, but then he had a few +odd stone of comfortable fat and was bred to such climatic trifles. He, +moreover, knew not fever, and, unlike me, had not experienced dysentery, +malaria, enteric and pneumonia fairly recently. + +"And had the hand of your brother anything to do with the little drops +of water that made Ibrahim the Weeper so blind?" I asked. + +"Something, Sahib," replied Mir Daoud Khan with a laugh, "but the hand +of Allah had more than that of my brother. It is a strange story. True +stories are sometimes far stranger than those of the bazaar tale-tellers +whose trade it is to invent or remember wondrous tales and stories, +myths, and legends." + +"We have a proverb to that effect, Mir Saheb. Let us sit in the shelter +of this rock and you shall tell me the story. Our eyes can work while +tongue and ear play--or would you sleep?" + +"_Nahin_, Sahib! Am I a Sahib that I should regard night as the time +wholly sacred to sleep and day as the time when to sleep is sin? I will +tell the Sahib the tale of the Blindness of Ibrahim Mahmud the Weeper, +well knowing that he, a truth-speaker, will believe the truth spoken by +his servant. To no liar would it seem possible. + +"Know then, Sahib, that this brother of mine was not my mother's son, +though the son of my father (Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan Mir Faquir Mahommed +Afzul Khan), who was the youngest son of His Highness the Jam Saheb of +Mekran Kot in Kubristan. And he, my father, was a great traveller, a +restless wanderer, and crossed the Black Water many times. To Englistan +he went, and without crossing water he also went to the capital of the +Amir of Russia to say certain things, quietly, from the King of Islam, +the Amir of Afghanistan. To where the big Waler horses come from he also +went, and to where they take the camels for use in the hot and sandy +northern parts." + +"Yes, Australia" I remarked. + +"Without doubt, if the Sahib be pleased to say it. And there, having +taken many camels in a ship that he might sell them at a profit, he +wedded a white woman--a woman of the race of the Highland soldiers of +Englistan, such as are in this very Brigade." + +"Married a Scotchwoman?" + +"Without doubt. Of a low caste--her father being a drunkard and landless +(though grandson of a Lord Sahib), living by horses and camels menially, +out-casted, a jail-bird. Formerly he had carried the mail through the +desert, a fine rider and brave man, but _sharab_[1] had loosened the +thigh in the saddle and palsied hand and eye. On hearing this news, the +Jam Saheb was exceeding wroth, for he had planned a good marriage for +his son, and he arranged that the woman should die if my father, on +whom be Peace, brought her to Mekran Kot. 'Tis but desert and mountain, +Sahib, with a few big _jagirs_[2] and some villages, a good fort, a +crumbling tower, and a town on the Caravan Road--but the Jam Saheb's +words are clearly heard and for many miles. + + [1] Wine. + [2] Estates. + +"Our father, however, was not so foolish as to bring the woman to his +home, for he knew that Pathan horse-dealers, camel-men, and traders +would have taken the truth, and more than the truth, concerning the +woman's social position to the gossips of Mekran Kot. And, apart from +the fact that her father was a drunkard, landless, a jail-bird, +out-casted by his caste-fellows, no father loves to see his son marry +with a woman of another community, nor with any woman but her with whose +father he has made his arrangements. + +"So my father, bringing the fair woman, his wife, by ship to Karachi, +travelled by the _relwey terain_ to Kot Ghazi and left her there in +India, where she would be safe. There he left her with her _butcha_,[3] +my half-brother, and journeyed toward the setting sun to look upon the +face of his father the Jam Saheb. And the Jam Saheb long turned his face +from him and would not look upon him nor give him his blessing--and only +relented when my father took to himself another wife, my mother, the +lady of noble birth whom the Jam Saheb had desired for him--and +sojourned for a season at Mekran Kot. But after I was born of this union +(I am of pure and noble descent) his heart wearied, being with the fair +woman at Kot Ghazi, for whom he yearned, and with her son, his own son, +yet so white of skin, so blue of eye, the fairest child who ever had a +Pathan father. Yea, my brother was even fairer than I, who, as the +Huzoor knoweth, have grey eyes, and hair and beard that are not darkly +brown. + + [3] Baby. + +"So my father began to make journeys to Kot Ghazi to visit the woman his +first wife, and the boy his first-born. And she, who loved him much, and +whom he loved, prevailed upon him to name my brother after _her_ father +as well as after himself, the child's father (as is our custom) and so +my brother was rightly called Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan." + +"And what part of that is the name of his mother's father?" I asked, for +the Subedar-Major's rapid utterance of the name conveyed nothing of +familiar English or Scottish names to my mind. + +"Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan," replied Mir Daoud Khan; "that was her +father's name, Sahib." + +"Say it again, slowly." + +"Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan." + +"I have it! Yes, but _what_?--John Robin Ross-Ellison? Good God! But _I_ +knew a John Robin Ross-Ellison when _I_ was a Captain. He was Colonel of +the Corps of which I was Adjutant, in fact--the Gungapur Volunteer +Rifles.... By Jove! That explains a lot. _John Robin Ross-Ellison_!" + +I was too incredulous to be astounded. It _could_ not be. + +"_Han_[4] Sahib, _be shak_![5] Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan was his name. And his mother called him +Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan and his father, Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, called +him Ilderim Dost Mahommed." + + [4] Yes. + [5] Without doubt. + +"H'm! A Scotch Pathan, brought up by an Australian girl in India, would +be a rare bird--and of rare possibilities naturally," I murmured, while +my mind worked quickly backward. + +"My brother was unlike us in some things, Sahib. He was fond of the +_sharab_ called '_Whisky_' and of dogs; he drank smoke from the cheroot +after the fashion of the Sahib-log and not from the hookah nor the +_bidi_;[6] he wore boots; he struck with the clenched fist when angered; +and never did he squat down upon his heels nor sit cross-legged upon the +ground. Yet he was true Pathan in many ways during his life, and he died +as a Pathan should, concerning his honour (and a woman). Yea--and in his +last fight, ere he was hanged, he killed more men with his long Khyber +knife, single-handed against a mob, than ever did lone man before with +cold steel in fair fight." + + [6] Native cigarette. + +Then it was so. And the Subedar-Major was John Robin Ross-Ellison's +brother! + +"He may have been foolishly kind to women, servants and dogs, and of a +foolish type of honour that taketh not every possible advantage of the +foe--but he was very brave, Huzoor, a strong enemy, and when he began he +made an end, and if that same honour were affronted he killed his man. +And yet he did not kill Ibrahim Mahmud the Weeper, who surely earned his +death twice, and who tried to kill him in a manner most terrible to +think of. No, he did not--but it shall be told.... And the white woman +prevailed upon our father to make her man-child a Sahib and to let him +go to the _maktab_[7] and _madressah-tul-Islam_[8] at Kot Ghazi, to +learn the clerkly lore that gives no grip to the hand on the sword-hilt +and lance-shaft nor to the thighs in the saddle, no skill to the fingers +on the reins, no length of sight to the eye, no steadiness to the rifle +and the lance, no understanding of the world and men and things. But our +father corrected all this, that the learning might do him no harm, for +oft-times he brought him to Mekran Kot (where my mother tried to poison +him), and he took him across the Black Water and to Kabul and Calcutta +and showed him the world. Also he taught him all he knew of the horse, +the rifle, the sword, and the lance--which was no small matter. Thus, +much of the time wasted at school was harmless, and what the boy lost +through the folly of his mother was redeemed by the wisdom of his +father. Truly are our mothers our best friends and worst enemies. Why, +when I was but a child my mother gave me money and bade me go prove--but +I digress. Well, thus my brother grew up not ignorant of the things a +man should know if he is to be a man and not a _babu_, but the woman, +his mother, wept sore whenever he was taken from her, and gave my father +trouble and annoyance as women ever do. And when, at last, she begged +that the boy might enter the service of the Sirkar as a wielder of the +pen in an office in Kot Ghazi, and strive to become a leading +_munshi_[9] and then a Deputy-Saheb, a _babu_ in very fact, my father +was wroth, and said the boy would be a warrior--yea, though he had to +die in his first skirmish and ere his beard were grown. Then the woman +wept and wearied my father until it seemed better to him that she should +die and, being at peace, bring peace. No quiet would he have at Mekran +Kot from my mother and his father, the Jam Saheb, while the woman lived, +nor would she herself allow him quiet at Kot Ghazi. And was she not +growing old and skinny moreover? And so he sent my brother to Mekran +Kot--and the woman died, without scandal. So my brother dwelt +thenceforward in Mekran Kot, knowing many things, for he had passed a +great _imtahan_[10] at Bombay and won a _sertifcut_[11] thereby, whereof +the Jam Saheb was very pleased, for the son of the Vizier had also gone +to a _madresseh_ and won a _sertifcut_, and it was time the pride of the +Vizier and his son were abated. + + [7] School. + [8] Mohammedan High School. + [9] Clerk. + [10] Examination. + [11] Certificate. + +"Now the son of the Vizier, Mahmud Shahbaz, was Ibrahim--and a mean +mangy pariah cur this Ibrahim Mahmud was, having been educated, and he +hated my brother bitterly by reason of the _sertifcut_ and on account of +a matter concerning a dancing-girl, one of those beautiful fat Mekranis, +and, by reason of his hatred and envy and jealousy, my mother made +common cause with him, she also desiring my brother's death, in that her +husband loved this child of another woman, an alien, his first love, +better than he loved hers. But _I_ bore him no ill-will, Huzoor. I loved +him and admired his deeds. + +"Many attempts they made, but though my mother was clever and Ibrahim +Mahmud and his father the Vizier were unscrupulous, my brother was in +the protection of the Prophet. Moreover he was much away from Mekran +Kot, being, like our father, a great traveller and soon irked by +whatever place he might be in. And, one time, he returned home, having +been to Germany on secret service (a thing he often did before he became +a Sahib) and to France and Africa on a little matter of rifles for +Afghanistan and the Border, and spoke to us of that very Somaliland to +which this very _pultan_, the 99th Baluch Light Infantry, went in 1908 +(was it?), and how the English were losing prestige there and would have +to send troops or receive _boondah_[12] and the blackened face from him +they called the Mad Mullah. And yet another time he returned from India +bringing a Somali boy, a black-faced youth, but a good Mussulman, whom, +some time before, he had known and saved from death in Africa, and now +had most strangely encountered again. And this Somali lad--who was not a +_hubshi_, a Woolly One, not a Sidi[13] slave--saved my brother's life in +his turn. I said he was not a slave--but in a sense he was, for he asked +nothing better than to sit in the shadow of my brother throughout his +life; for he loved my brother as the Huzoors' dogs love their masters, +yea--he would rather have had blows from my brother than gold from +another. He it was who saved Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan from the +terrible death prepared for him by Ibrahim Mahmud. It was during this +visit to Mekran Kot that Mahmud Shahbaz, the Vizier, announced +that he was about to send his learned son, the dog Ibrahim, to +Englistan to become English-made first-class Pleader--what they +called--'_Barishtar-at-Lar_' is it not, Sahib?" + + [12] An insulting and contemptuous gesture. + [13] A class of negroes, much employed as sailors and boatmen, and + called Seedeeboys. + +"That's it, Mir Saheb," replied I, sitting alert with chattering teeth +and shivering ague-stricken body. "Barrister-at Law.... Sit as close to +me as you can, for warmth.... Hark! Is that a signal?" as a long high +wavering note rose from the dry river-bed before us and wailed +lugubriously upon the night, rising and falling in mournful cadence. + +"'Twas a genuine jackal-cry, Huzoor. One can always tell the imitation +if jackals have sung one's lullaby from birth--though most Pathans can +deceive white ears in the matter.... Well, this made things no +pleasanter, for Ibrahim crowed like the dung-hill cock he was, and +boasted loudly. Also my mother urged him to do a deed ere he left Mekran +Kot for so long a sojourn in Belait.[14] And to her incitements and his +own inclination and desires was added that which made revenge and my +brother's death the chiefest things in all the world to Ibrahim Mahmud, +and it happened thus.... But do I weary the Sahib with my babble?" + + [14] Europe. + +"Nay--nay--far from it, Mir Saheb," replied I. "The sentry of talk +challenges the approaching skirmishers of sleep. The thong of narrative +drives off the dogs of tedium. Tell on." And in point of fact I was now +too credulous to be anything but astounded.... _John Robin +Ross-Ellison_! + +"Well, one day, my brother and I went forth to shoot sand-grouse, +tuloor,[15] chikor,[16] chinkara[17] and perchance ibex, leaving behind +this black body-servant Moussa Isa, the Somali boy, because he was +sick. And it was supposed that we should not return for a week at the +least. But on the third day we returned, my brother's eyes being +inflamed and sore and he fearing blindness if he remained out in the +desert glare. This is a common thing, as the Sahib knoweth, when dust +and sun combine against the eyes of those who have read over-many books +and written over-much with the steel pen upon white paper, and my +brother was somewhat prone to this trouble in the desert if he exhausted +himself with excessive _shikar_ and--other matters. And this angered him +greatly. Yet it was all ordained by Allah for the undoing of that +unclean dog Ibrahim Mahmud--for, returning and riding on his white camel +(a far-famed pacer of speed and endurance) under the great gateway of +the Jam's fort--high enough for a camel-rider to pass unstooping and +long enough for a _relwey_-tunnel--he came upon Mahmud Ibrahim and his +friends and followers (for he had many such, who thought he might +succeed his father as Vizier) doing a thing that enraged my brother very +greatly. Swinging at the end of a cord tied to his hands, which were +bound behind his back, was the boy Moussa Isa the Somali, apparently +dead, for his eyes were closed and he gave no sign of pain as Ibrahim's +gang of pimps, panders, bullies and _budmashes_[18] kept him swinging to +and fro by blows of _lathis_[19] and by kicks, while Ibrahim and his +friends, at a short distance, strove to hit the moving body with stones. +I suppose the agony of hanging forward from the arms, and the blows of +staff and stone, had stunned the lad--who had offended Ibrahim, it +appeared, by preventing him from entering my brother's house--probably +to poison his water-_lotah_[20] and _gurrah_[21]--at the door of which +he, Moussa Isa, lay sick. My brother, Mir Jan, sprang from his camel +without waiting for the driver to make it kneel, and going up to +Ibrahim, he struck him with his closed, but empty, hand. Not with the +slap that stings and angers, he struck him, but with the thud that stuns +and injures, upon the mouth, removing certain of his teeth,--such being +his anger and his strength. Rising from the ground and plucking forth +his knife, Ibrahim sprang at my brother who, unarmed, straightway smote +him senseless, and that is talked of in Mekran Kot to this day. +Yea--senseless. Placing the thumb upon the knuckles of the clenched +fingers, he smote at the chin of Ibrahim, and laid him, as one dead, +upon the earth. Straight to the front from the shoulder and not +downwards nor swinging sideways he struck, and it was as though Ibrahim +had been shot. The Sahib being English will believe this, but many +Baluchis and Pathans do not. They cannot believe it, though to me +Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan of the 99th Baluch +Light Infantry of the Army of the King Emperor of India, they pretend +that they do, when I tell of that great deed.... Then my brother loosed +Moussa Isa with his own hand, saying that even as he had served Ibrahim +Mahmud so would he serve any man who injured a hair of the head of his +body-servant. And Moussa Isa clave to my brother yet the more, and when +a great Sidi slave entered the room of my brother by night, doubtless +hired by Ibrahim Mahmud to slay him, Moussa Isa, grappling with him, +tore out his throat with his teeth, though stabbed many times by the +Sidi, ere my brother could light torch or wick to tell friend from foe. +Whether he were thief or hired murderer, none could say--least of all +the Sidi when Moussa Isa, at my brother's bidding, loosed his teeth from +the man's throat. But all men held that it was the work of Ibrahim, for, +on recovering his senses that day of the blow, he had walked up to my +brother Mir Jan and said:-- + + [15] Bustard. + [16] A kind of partridge. + [17] Gazelle. + [18] Bad characters. + [19] Long staves. + [20] Brass cup or vase. + [21] Basin or pot. + +"'For that blow will I have a great revenge, O Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan +Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, descendant of Mirs and of +_mlecca_ dogs, this year or next year, or ten years hence, or when thou +art old, or upon thy first-born. By the sacred names of God, by the +Beard of the Prophet, by the hilt and blade of this my knife, and by the +life of my oldest son, I swear to have a vengeance on thee that shall +turn men pale as they whisper it. _And may Allah smite me blind_ if I do +not unto thee a thing of which children yet unborn shall speak with +awe.' + +"Thus spake Ibrahim, son of Mahmud, for though a dog, a mangy pariah +cur, he was still a Pathan. + +"But my brother laughed in his face and said but 'It would seem that I +too have tortured a slave' whereat Ibrahim repeated again 'Yea--_may +Allah smite me blind!_' + +"And something of this coming to the ears of our father, now heir to the +Jam of Mekran Kot, as his brothers were dead (in the big Border War they +died), he prayed the Jam Saheb to hasten the departure of the Vizier's +cub, and also told the Vizier that he would surely cut out his tongue +if aught befell Mir Jan. So the Vizier sent Ibrahim to Kot Ghazi on +business of investing moneys--wrung by knavery, doubtless, from litigant +suitors, candidates, criminals, and the poor of Mekran Kot. And shortly +after, the Jam Saheb heard of a new kind of gun that fires six of the +fat cartridges such as are used for the shooting of birds, without +reloading; and he bade Mir Jan who understood all things, and the ways +of the European gun-shop at Kot Ghazi, to hasten forthwith and procure +him a couple, and if none were in Kot Ghazi to send a _tar_[22] to +Bombay for them, or even, if necessary, to Englistan, though at a cost +of two rupees a word. With such a gun the Jam hoped to get better +_shikar_ when sitting on his camel and circling round the foolish +crouching grouse or _tuloor_, and firing at them as they sat. He thought +he might fire twice or thrice at them sitting, and again twice or thrice +at the remnant flying, and perchance hit some on the wing, after the +wonderful manner of the Sahibs. So he sent my brother, knowing him to be +both clever and honest and understanding the speech and ways of the +English most fully. + + [22] Telegram. + +"Now it is many days' journey, Sahib, across the desert and the +mountains, from Mekran Kot in Kubristan to Kot Ghazi in India, but at +Kot Ghazi is a fine bungalow, the property of the Jam Saheb, and there +all travellers from his house may sojourn and rest after their long and +perilous travel. + +"Taking me and Mir Abdul Haq and Mir Hussein Ali and many men and +servants, among whom was the body-servant, the boy Moussa Isa Somali, he +set forth, a little depressed that we heard not the cry of the +partridge in the fields of Mekran Kot as we started--not exactly a bad +omen, but lacking a good one. And sure enough, ere we won to Kot Ghazi, +his eyes became red and inflamed, very sore and painful to use. So, he +put the tail of his _puggri_[23] about his face and rode all day from +sun-rise to sun-set in darkness, his camel being driven by Abdulali +Gulamali Bokhari--the same who later rose to fame and honour as an +outlaw and was hanged at Peshawar after a brave and successful career. +And being arrived, in due course, at Kot Ghazi, before entering the +bungalow belonging to the Jam Saheb, he knelt his camel at the door of +the shop of a European _hakim_--in English a--er--" + + [23] Turban. + +"Chemist, Mir Saheb," I suggested. + +"Doubtless, since your honour says it--of a _kimmish_, and entering, to +the Eurasian dog therein said in English, of which he knew everything +(and taught me much, as your honour knows), 'Look you. I need lotion for +my eyes, eye medicine, and a bath for them' and the man mixed various +waters and poured them into a blue bottle with red labels, very +beautiful to see, and wrote upon it. Also he gave my brother a small cup +of glass, shaped like the mouth of the _pulla_ fish or the eye-socket of +a man. And my brother, knowing what to do, used the things then and +there, to the wonder of Abdul Haq and Hussein Ali, pouring the liquor +into the glass cup, and holding it to his eyes, and with back-thrown +head washing the eye and soothing it. + +"'Shahbas!'[24] quoth he. 'It is good,' and anon we proceeded to the +gun-shop and then to the bungalow belonging to the Jam Saheb. And lo +and behold, here we discovered the dog Ibrahim Mahmud, and my brother +twisted the knife of memory in the wound of insult by ordering him to +quit the room he occupied and seek another, since Mir Jan intended the +room for his body-servant, Moussa Isa Somali--the servant of a Mir being +more deserving of the room than the son of a Vizier! This was unwise, +but my brother's heart was too great to fear (or to fathom) the guile of +such a serpent as Ibrahim. + + [24] Bravo! Excellent! + +"And when he had bathed and prayed, eaten and drunk and rested, my +brother again anointed his eyes with the liquid--which though only like +water, was strong to soothe and heal. And our servants and people +watched him doing this with wonder and admiration, and the news of it +spread to the servants of Ibrahim Mahmud, who told their master of this +cleverness of Mir Jan,--and Ibrahim, after a while, sent a message and a +present to my brother, humbling himself, and asking that he too might +see this thing. + +"And Mir Jan, perhaps a little proud of his English ways, sat upon his +_charpai_,[25] and bathed his eyes in the little bath, until, wearying +of the trouble of pouring back the liquid into the bottle, he would +press the bottle itself to his eye and throw back his head. So his eyes +were quickly eased of pain, and in the evening we all went forth to +enjoy. + + [25] Native cot or bed. + +"On his return to the room, Mir Jan flung himself, weary, upon his +_charpai_ and Moussa Isa lay across the doorway. + +"In the morning my brother awoke and sitting on the _charpai_, took up +the blue bottle, drew the cork, and raised the bottle towards his eyes. +As he did this, Moussa Isa entered, and knowing not why he did so, +sprang at his master and dashed the bottle from his hand. It fell to the +ground but broke not, the floor being _dhurrie_[26]-covered. + + [26] Carpet. + +"In greatest amazement Mir Jan glanced from Moussa Isa to the bottle, +clenching his hand to strike the boy--when behold! the very floor +bubbled and smoked beneath the touch of the liquid as it ran from the +bottle. By the Beard of the Prophet, that stone floor bubbled and smoked +like water and the _dhurrie_ was burnt! Snatching up the bottle my +brother dropped drops from it upon the blade of his knife, upon the +leather of his boots, upon paint and brass and clothing--and behold it +was liquid fire, burning and corroding all that it touched! To me he +called, and, being shown these things, I could scarce believe--and then +I cried aloud 'Ibrahim Mahmud! Thine enemy!... Oh, my brother,--thine +eyes!' and I remembered the words of Ibrahim, '_a vengeance that shall +turn men pale as they whisper it--a thing of which children yet unborn +shall speak with awe_' and we rushed to his room,--to find it empty. He +and his best camel and its driver were gone, but all his people and +servants and _oont-wallahs_[27] were in the _serai_,[28] and said they +knew not where he was, but had received a _hookum_[29] over-night to set +out that day for Mekran Kot. And, catching up a pariah puppy, I +re-entered the house and dropped one drop from the blue bottle into its +eye. Sahib, even _I_ pitied the creature and slew it quickly with my +knife. And it was this that Ibrahim Mahmud had intended for the blue +eyes of my beautiful brother. This was the vengeance of which men should +speak in whispers. Those who saw and heard that puppy would speak of it +in whispers indeed--or not at all. I felt sick and my fingers itched to +madness for the throat of Ibrahim Mahmud. Had I seen him then, I would +have put out his eyes with my thumbs. Nay--I would have used the burning +liquid upon him as he had designed it should be used by my brother. + + [27] Camel-men. + [28] Halting-enclosure, rest-house. + [29] Order. + +"Hearing Mir Jan's voice, I hurried forth, and found that his white +pacing-camel was already saddled and that he sat in the front seat, +prepared to drive. 'Up, Daoud Khan' he cried to me 'we go +a-hunting'--and I sprang to the rear saddle even as the camel rose. +'Lead on, Moussa Isa, and track as thou hast never tracked before, if +thou wouldst live,' said he to the Somali, a noted _paggi_,[30] even +among the Baluch and Sindhi _paggis_ of the police at Peshawar and Kot +Ghazi. 'I can track the path of yesterday's bird through the air and of +yesterday's fish through the water,' answered the black boy; 'and I +would find this Ibrahim by smell though he had blinded _me_,' and he led +on. Down the Sudder Bazaar he went unfaltering, though hundreds of feet +of camels, horses, bullocks and of men were treading its dust. As we +passed the shop of the European _hakim_, yes, the _kimmish_, my brother +leapt down and entering the shop asked questions. Returning and mounting +he said to me: ''Tis as I thought. Hither he came last night, and, +saying he was science-knowing failed B.Sc., demanded certain acids, +that, being mixed, will eat up even gold--which no other acid can +digest, nor even assail....'" + + [30] Tracker. + +"_Aqua Regia_, or vitriol, I believe," I murmured, still marvelling ... +_Ross-Ellison!_ + +"Doubtless, if your honour is pleased to say so. 'He must have poured +these acids into the bottle while we were abroad last night,' continued +my brother. 'Oh, the dog! The treacherous dreadful dog!... 'Twas in a +good hour that I saved Moussa Isa,' and indeed I too blessed that +Somali, so mysteriously moved by Allah to dash the bottle from my +brother's hand. + +"'Think you that Ibrahim Mahmud bribed Moussa and that he repented as he +saw you about to anoint your eyes with the acid?' I asked of my brother. + +"'Nay--Moussa was with me until I returned,' replied he, 'and returning, +I put the bottle beneath my pillow. Besides, Ibrahim had fled ere we +returned to the bungalow. Moreover, Moussa would lose his tongue ere he +would tell me a lie, his eyes ere he would see me suffer, his hand ere +he would take a bribe against me. No--Allah moved his heart--rewarding +me for saving his life at the risk of mine own, when he lay beneath a +lion,--or else it is that the black dog hath the instincts of a dog and +knows when evil threatens what it loves.' And indeed it is a wonderful +thing and true; and Moussa Isa never knew how he knew, but said his arm +moved of itself and that he wondered at himself as he struck the bottle +from his master's hand. And, in time, we left the city and followed the +road and found that Ibrahim was fleeing to Mekran Kot, doubtless to be +far away when the thing happened, and also to get counsel and money from +his father and my mother, should suspicion fall on him and flight be +necessary. And anon even untrained eyes could see where he had left the +Caravan Road and taken the shorter route whereby camels bearing no heavy +load could come by steeper passes and dangerous tracks in shorter time +to Mekran Kot, provided the rider bore water sufficient--for there was +no oasis nor well. 'Enough, Moussa Isa, thou mayest return, I can track +the camel of Ibrahim now that he hath left the road,' quoth my brother, +breaking a long silence; but Moussa Isa, panting as he ran before, +replied: 'I come, Mir Saheb. I shall not fall until mine eyes have +beheld thy vengeance--in which perchance, _I_ may take a part. He called +me "_Hubshi_".' + +"'He hath many hours' start, Moussa,' said my brother, 'and his camel is +a good one. He will not halt and sleep for many hours even though he +suppose me dead!' + +"'I can run for a day; for a day and a night I can run,' replied the +Somali, 'and I can run until the hour of thy vengeance cometh. He called +_me_ "Hubshi"' ... and he ran on. + +"Sahib, for the whole of that day he ran beside the fast camel, my +brother drawing rein for no single minute, and when, at dawn, I awoke +from broken slumber in the saddle, Moussa Isa was running yet! And then +we heard the cry of the partridge and knew that our luck was good. + +"'He may have left the track,' quoth my brother soon after dawn, 'but I +think he is making for Mekran Kot, to get money and documents and to +escape again ere news of his deed--or the suspicion of him--reaches the +Jam Saheb. We may have missed him, but I could not halt and wait for +daylight. He cannot be far ahead of us now. This camel shall live on +milk and meal and wheaten bread, finest _bhoosa_[31] and chosen young +green shoots, and buds, and leaves--and he shall have a collar of gold +with golden bells, and reins of silk, and hanging silken tassels, and he +shall----" and then Moussa Isa gave a hoarse scream and pointed to the +sky-line above which rose a wisp of smoke. + + [31] Bran. + +"'It is he,' said my brother, and within the hour we beheld the little +bush-tent of Ibrahim Mahmud (made with cloths thrown over a bent bush) +and his camel, near to which, his _oont-wallah_ Suleiman Abdulla had +kindled a fire and prepared food. (Later this liar swore that he made +the fire smoke with green twigs to guide the pursuit,--a foolish lie, +for he knew not what Ibrahim had done, nor anything but that his master +hastened.) + +"Moussa Isa staggered to where Ibrahim Mahmud lay asleep, looked upon +his face, and fell, seeming to be about to die. + +"Making a little _chukker_[32] round, my brother drove the camel between +Suleiman and the tent and made it kneel. + + [32] Circuit, course. + +"'_Salaam aleikoum_,[33] Mir Saheb,' said Suleiman, and my brother +replied:-- + + [33] A Mussulman greeting. + +"'Salaam. Tend thou my camel and prepare food for me, and my brother, +and my servant. And if thou wouldst not hang in a pig's skin, be wise +and wary, and keep eyes, ears, and mouth closed.' And we drank water. + +"Then, treading softly, we went to the tent where Ibrahim Mahmud slept +and sat us down where we could look upon his face. There he slept, +Sahib, peacefully, like a little child!--having left Mir Jan to die the +death 'whereof men should speak with awe,' as he had threatened. + +"We sat beside him and watched. Saying nothing, we sat and watched. An +hour passed and an hour again. For another hour without moving or +speaking we sat and Moussa Isa joined us and watched. + +"'Twas sweet, and I licked my lips and hoped he might not wake for +hours, although I hungered. The actual revenge is very, very sweet, +Sahib, but does it exceed the joy of watching the enemy as he lies +wholly at your mercy, lies in the hollow of your hand and is your poor +foolish plaything,--knave made fool at last? Like statues we sat, moving +not our eyes from his face, and we were very happy. + +"Then, suddenly, he awoke and his eyes fell on my brother--and he +shrieked aloud, as the hare shrieks when hound or jackal seize her; as +the woman shrieks when the door goes down before the raiders and the +thatch goes up in flame. + +"Thus he shrieked. + +"We moved not. + +"'Why cryest thou, dear brother?' asked Mir Jan in a soft, sweet voice. + +"'I--I--thought thou wast a spirit, come to--' he faltered, and my +brother answered:-- + +"'And why should _I_ be a spirit, my brother? Am I not young and +strong?' + +"'I dreamed,' quavered Ibrahim. + +"'I too have had a dream,' said my brother. + +"''Twas but a dream, Mir Jan. I will arise and prepare some--' replied +Ibrahim, affecting ease of manner but poorly, for he had no real nerve. + +"'Thou wilt not arise yet, Ibrahim Mahmud,' murmured my brother gently. + +"'Why?' + +"'Because thine eyes are somewhat wearied and I purpose to wash them +with my magic water,' and as he held up the blue bottle with the red +label Ibrahim screamed like a girl and flung himself forward at my +brother's feet, shrieking and praying for mercy:-- + +"'_No, No!_' he howled; 'not _that!_ Mercy, O kingly son of Kings! I +will give thee--" + +"'Nay, my brother,--what is this?' asked Mir Jan softly, with kind +caressing voice. 'What is all this? I do but propose to bathe thine eyes +with this same magic water wherewith I bathed mine own, the day before +yesterday. Thou didst see me do it--thou didst watch me do it.' + +"'Mercy--most noble Mir! Have pity, 'twas not I. Mercy!' he screamed. + +"'But, Ibrahim, dear brother' expostulated Mir Jan, 'why this objection +to my magic water? It gave me great relief and my eyes were quickly +healed. Thine own need care--for see--water gushes from them even now.' + +"The dog howled--like a dog--and offered lakhs of rupees. + +"'But surely, my brother, what gave me relief will give thee relief? +Thou knowest how my eyes were soothed and healed, and that it is a +potent charm, and surely _it is not changed_?' Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras +el-Isan was all Pathan then, Sahib, whatever he may have been at other +times. I could not have played more skilfully with the dog myself. + +"At last, turning to Moussa Isa he said:-- + +"'Our brother seemeth distraught, and perchance will do himself some +injury if he be not tended with care and watched over. Bind him, to make +sure that he hurt not himself in this strange madness that hath +o'ertaken him, making him fancy harm even in this healing balm. Bind him +tightly.' And at that, the treacherous, murderous dog found his manhood +for a moment and made to spring to his feet and fight, but as he tried +to rise, Moussa Isa kicked him in the face and fell upon him. + +"'Shall I serve thee as I served thy _Hubshi_ hireling, thy Sidi slave?' +he grunted and showed his sharp strong teeth. + +"'Perchance 'twould cure him of his madness if we bled the poor soul a +little,' cooed my brother, putting his hand to his cummerbund where was +his long Afghan knife, and Ibrahim Mahmud lay still. Picking up his big, +green turban from beside his rug, I bound his arms to his sides and +then, going forth, got baggage-cords from the _oont-wallah_ and likewise +his _puggri_, and Moussa Isa bound his feet and hands and knees. + +"Then my brother called Suleiman Abdulla the _oont-wallah_, and bade +Moussa Isa sleep--which he did with his knife in his hand, having bound +his foot to that of Ibrahim. + +"'Look, thou dog,' said Mir Jan to Suleiman, 'should this rat-flea +escape, thy soul and thy body shall pay, for I will put out thine eyes +with glowing charcoal and hang thee in the skin of a pig, if I have to +follow thee to Cabul to do it--yea, to Balkh or Bokhara. See to it.' And +Suleiman put his head upon my brother's feet, poured dust upon it and +said 'So be it, Mir Saheb. Do this and more if he escape,' and we slept +awhile. + +"Anon we awoke, ate, drank and smoked, my brother smoking the cheroots +of the Sahib-log and I having to be content with the _bidis_ of Suleiman +as there was no hookah. + +"And when we had rested we went and sat before the face of Ibrahim and +gazed upon him long, without words. + +"And he wept. Like a woman he wept, and said 'Slay me, Mir Saheb, and +have done. Slay me with thy knife.' + +"But my brother replied softly and sweetly:-- + +"'What wild words are these, Ibrahim? Why should I slay thee? Some +matter of a quarrel there was concerning thy torturing of my +servant--but I am not of them that bear grudges and nurse hatred. In no +anger slay thee with my knife? Why should I injure thee? I do most +solemnly swear, Ibrahim, that I will do thee no wilful hurt. I will but +anoint thine eyes with the contents of this bottle just as I did anoint +my own. Why should I slay thee or do thee hurt?' + +"And I chuckled aloud. He was all Pathan then, Sahib, and handling his +enemy right subtly. + +"And Ibrahim wept yet more loudly and said again:-- + +"'Slay me and have done.' Then my brother gave him the name by which he +was known ever after, saying:-- + +"'Why should I slay thee, _Ibrahim, the Weeper_?' and he produced the +bottle and held it above that villain's face. + +"His screams were music to me, and in the joy of his black heart Moussa +Isa burst into some strange chant in his own Somali tongue. + +"'Nay, our friends must hear thy eloquence and songs, Ibrahim,' said my +brother, after he had held the bottle tilted above the face of the +Weeper for some minutes. ''Twere greedy to keep this to ourselves.' + +"Again and again that day my brother would say: 'Nay--I cannot wait +longer. Poor Ibrahim's weeping eyes must be relieved at once,' and he +would produce the bottle, uncork it, and hold it over Ibrahim's face as +he writhed and screamed and twisted in his bonds. + +"'What ails thee, Ibrahim the Weeper?' he would coo. 'Thou knowest it is +a soothing lotion. Didst thou not see me use it on mine own eyes?' Yea, +he was true Pathan then, and I loved him the more. + +"A hundred times that day he did thus and enjoyed the music of Ibrahim's +screams, and by night the dog was a little mad. So, lest we defeat +ourselves and lose something of the sport our souls loved, we left him +in peace that night, if 'peace' it is to know that the dreadful death +you have prepared for another now overhangs you. Moussa Isa kept watch +through the night. And in the morning came Abdul Haq and Hussein Ali +and the servants and _oont-wallahs_, save a few who had been sent with +laden camels by the Caravan Road. And, when all had eaten and rested, my +brother held _durbar_,[34] having placed Ibrahim Mahmud in the midst, +bound, and looking like one who has long lain upon a bed of sickness. + + [34] Meeting. + +"This _durbar_ proceeded with the greatest solemnity and no man smiled +when my brother said: 'And now, touching the matter of my beloved and +respected Ibrahim Mahmud, son of our grandfather's Vizier,--the learned +Ibrahim, who shortly goeth (perhaps) across the black water to Englistan +to become a great and famous pleader,--can any suggest the cause of the +strange and distressing madness that hath come upon him so suddenly? +For, behold, I have to keep him bound lest he do himself an injury, and +constantly he crieth, "Kill me, Mir Saheb, kill me with thy knife and +make an end." And when I go to bathe his poor eyes, so sore and red with +weeping, behold he shrieketh like the _relwey terain_ at Peshawar and +weepeth like a woman.' + +"And Abdul Haq spoke and said: 'Is it so indeed, Mir Saheb?' And my +brother said: 'It is so;' and Hussein Ali said: 'Is it so indeed, Mir +Saheb?' And my brother said 'It is so;' and all men said the same thing +gravely and my brother made the same answer. + +"Sahib, I shall never forget the joy of that _durbar_ with Ibrahim the +Weeper there, like a trapped rat, in the midst, looking from face to +face for mercy. + +"'Yea--it is so. It is indeed so,' again said my brother when all had +asked. 'You shall see--and hear. Behold I will drop but one drop of my +soothing lotion into each of his eyes!' ... and he turned to Ibrahim the +Weeper, with the uncorked bottle in his hand--the bottle from which came +forth smoke, though it was cold. But Ibrahim rolled screaming, and +strove to thrust his face into the ground. 'It is strange indeed,' mused +Abdul Haq, stroking his beard, while none smiled. 'Strange, in every +truth. But thou hast not dropped the drops, Mir Saheb. Perchance he will +arise and thank thee and be cured of this madness when he feels the +healing anointment that so benefited thine own eyes. Oh, the cleverness +of these European _hakims_,' and he raised hands and eyes in wonder as +he sighed piously. + +"'Yea--perchance he will,' agreed my brother and bade Moussa Isa hold +him by the ears with his face to the sky while the _oont-wallahs_ kept +him on his back. And Ibrahim's body heaved up those four strong men as +it bent like a bow and bucked like a horse, while my brother removed the +cork once again. + +"His shrieks delighted my soul. + +"''Tis a marvellous mystery to me,' sighed my brother. 'He knows how +innocent and healing are these waters and yet he refuses them. He saw me +use them on my own eyes--and surely the medicine is unchanged?' And he +balanced the bottle sideways above the face of his enemy and allowed the +devilish acid to well up and impend upon the very edge of the neck of +the bottle, as he murmured: 'But a single drop for each eye! More I +cannot spare--to-day. Perchance a drop for each ear to-morrow, and one +for his tongue on the next day--if his madness spare him to us for so +long.' + +"Then, as Ibrahim, foaming, shrieked curses and cried aloud to Allah +and Mohammed his Prophet, he said: 'Nay, this is ingratitude. He shall +not have them to-day at all, but shall endure without them till sunrise +to-morrow. Take him yonder, and lay him on that flat rock, bareheaded in +the sun, that his tears may be dried for him.' ... + +"Yea! I found no fault with my brother then, Sahib. + +"He was a master in his revenge. And the _durbar_ murmured its applause, +and praised and thanked my brother. Not one of them but had suffered at +the hands of Mahmud Shahbaz, his father, the Vizier, or at the insolent +hands of this his own son.... Then Mir Jan called to Moussa Isa, his +body-servant, and said unto him:-- + +"'Hear, Moussa Isa, and make no tiny error if thou wouldst see +to-morrow's sun and go to Paradise anon. Feed that carrion well and +pretend to be filled with the pity that is the child of avarice. Ask +what he will give thee to help him to escape. Affect to haggle long, and +speak much of the difficulties and dangers of the deed. At length agree +to put him on my fast camel this night at moon-rise, if thou art left as +his guard and we are wrapt in slumber. Play thy part well, and show thy +remorse at cheating thy master--even for a lakh[35] of rupees--yea, and +show fear of what will happen to thee, and pretend distrust of him. At +length succumb again, and as the moon just shows above the mountains +untie his bonds and do thus and thus--' and he whispered instructions +while a light shone in the eyes of Moussa Isa, the Somali, and a smile +played about his mouth. + + [35] One hundred thousand. + +"And Mir Jan told the matter that night to all and gave instructions. + +"Moussa Isa meanwhile did everything as he was bid and, while we ate, he +carried his own food to the Weeper, as though secretly. + +"Long and merrily we feasted, pretending to drink to excess of the +forbidden _sharab_, singing and behaving like toddy-laden coolies, and +in time we staggered to our carpets, put on our _poshteens_,[36] pulled +rugs over our heads and slept--not. + + [36] Warm sheep-skin coats. + +"From under his rug my brother kept watch. Shortly after, Moussa Isa +arose from beside Ibrahim the Weeper and crawled like a snake to where +the camels knelt in a ring, and there he saddled the swift white camel +of Mir Jan, and I heard its bubbling snarl as he made it rise, and led +it over near to where Ibrahim lay. There he made it kneel again, and, +throwing the nose-rope over its head, he laid the loop thereof, with his +stick, on the front seat of the saddle. This done, he crept back to +Ibrahim Mahmud and feigned sleep awhile. Anon, none stirring, he began +to untie with his teeth and knife-point the cords that bound the +captive, and when, at length, the man was free, Moussa chafed his +stiffened arms and legs, his hands and feet. + +"When, after a time, Ibrahim tried to rise, he fell again and +again, and the moon not yet having risen above the mountains, the +avaricious-seeming Moussa again massaged and chafed the limbs of the +villain Ibrahim, who earnestly prayed Moussa Isa to lay him on the +saddle as he was--and depart ere some sleeper awoke. But Moussa said +'twould be vain to start until Ibrahim could sit in the saddle and hold +on, and he continued to rub his arms and legs. + +"But when the edge of the moon shone above the mountain, Moussa placed +the arm of Ibrahim around his neck, put his arm round Ibrahim's body, +and staggered with him to where the racing-camel knelt. After a few +steps the strength of Ibrahim seemed to return, and, by the time they +reached the camel, he could totter on his feet and stand without help. +With some difficulty Moussa hoisted him into the rear saddle. Having +done so, he thrust the stirrups upon his feet and commenced to unwind +his puggri. + +"'Mount, mount!' whispered Ibrahim. + +"'Nay, I must tie thee on,' replied Moussa Isa and, knotting one end of +the _puggri_ to the back of the saddle, he passed it twice round Ibrahim +and tied the other end near the first. This done, and Ibrahim being in a +frantic fever of haste and fear and hope, Moussa Isa commenced to +bargain, Ibrahim agreeing to every demand and promising even more. + +"'Anything! anything!' he shrieked beneath his breath. 'Bargain as we +go. You cannot ask too much. I and my father will strip ourselves for +thee.' ... And having tortured him awhile, Moussa sprang into the saddle +and brought the camel to its feet--as my brother's voice said, softly +and sweetly:-- + +"'Wouldst thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my friend?' and my own chimed in:-- + +"'Could'st thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my brother's friend?' and the voice +of Abdul Haq followed with:-- + +"'Shouldst thou leave us, O Ibrahim, my cousin's friend?' and Hussein +Ali's voice added:-- + +"'Do not leave us, O Ibrahim, my friend's friend.' Like the wolf-pack, +every other voice in the camp in turn implored:-- + +"'Never leave us, O Ibrahim, our master's friend.' + +"'Go! go!' shrieked Ibrahim, kicking with his heels at the camel's sides +and striking at Moussa Isa, as that obedient youth, raising his stick, +caused the camel to bound forward, and drove it, swiftly trotting--to +where my brother lay, and there made it kneel again.... + +"Dost thou sleep, Huzoor?" + +"Nay, Mir Saheb," I replied, "nor would I till your tale be done and I +have seen the return of another reconnoitring-patrol. We might then take +turns.... Nay, I will not sleep at all. 'Tis too near dawn--when things +are wont to happen in time of war." + +Little did the worthy Subedar-Major guess how, or why, his tale +enthralled me. + +"I have nearly done, Sahib.... On the morrow my brother said: 'To-day I +will make an end. After the evening prayer let all assemble and behold +the anointing of the eyes of Ibrahim the Weeper with the same balm that +he intended to be applied to mine.' And during the day men drove strong +stakes deep into the ground, the distance between them being equal to +the width of Ibrahim's head, which they measured--telling him why. Also +pegs were driven into the ground convenient for the fastening of his +hands and feet, and stones were collected as large as men could carry. + +"And, after evening prayer and prostration we took Ibrahim, and forcing +his head between the stakes so that he could not turn it, we tied his +hands and feet to the pegs and weighted his body with the stones, being +careful to do him no injury and to cause no such pain as might detract +from the real torture, and lessen his punishment. + +"And then Mir Jan stood over him with the bottle and said, softly and +sweetly:-- + +"'Ibrahim, my friend, thou didst vow upon me a vengeance, the telling of +which should turn men pale, because I struck thee for torturing my +servant. And now I return good for thine evil, for I take pity on thy +weeping eyes and heal them. These several days thou hast refused this +benefaction with floods of tears, and sobs and screams. Now, behold, and +see how foolish thou hast been,' and he spilt a drop from the bottle, so +that it fell near the face of Ibrahim, but not on it. + +"And I was amazed to see that the stone upon which the drop fell did not +bubble and boil. This prolongation and refinement of the torture I could +appreciate and enjoy--but why did not the acid affect the stone? 'Twas +as though mere cold water had fallen upon it. Nor was the bottle smoking +as always hitherto. + +"And even as I wondered, my brother quickly stooped and dashed some of +the contents of the bottle in the eyes of Ibrahim the Weeper. + +"With a shriek that pierced our ear-drums and must have been heard for +many kos,[37] Ibrahim writhed and jerked so that the stones were thrown +from his body and the pegs that held his feet and hands were torn from +the ground. The stakes holding his head firmly, he flung his body over +until his head was beneath it and then back again, and screamed like a +wounded horse. At last he wrenched his head free, and, holding his hands +to his face--which appeared to be in no way injured--leapt up and ran +round and round in circles, until he was seized, and, by my brother's +orders, his hands were torn from his face. + + [37] Kos = two miles. + +"And behold, his eyes and face were unmarked and uninjured, and the +liquid that dripped upon his clothing made no mark and did no hurt. + +"'_Blind_,' he shrieked,' I am _blind!_ O Merciful Allah, my eyes!' and +he fell, howling. + +"'Now that is very strange,' said my brother, 'for I threw pure, plain, +cold water in his face. See me drink of the remainder!' and he drank +from the bottle, and so did I, in fear and wonder. Cold, pure, fair +water it was, and nothing else! + +"But Ibrahim the Weeper was blind. Stone blind to his dying day and +never looked upon the sun again. Little drops of water had struck him +blind. Nay, the Hand of Allah had struck him blind--him who had cried: +'_May Allah strike me blind_ if I do not unto thee a thing of which +children yet unborn shall speak with awe". He had tried to do such a +thing and God had struck him blind--though my brother, who was very +learned, spoke of self-suggestion, and of imagination being sometimes +strong enough to make the imagined come to pass. (He told of a man who +died for no reason, on a certain day at a certain hour, because his +father had done so and he believed that _he_ would also. But more likely +it was witchcraft and he was under a curse.) + +"Howbeit, little drops of pure water blinded Ibrahim the Weeper. And +there the foreign blood of my poor brother showed forth. He could not +escape the taint and was weak. At the last moment he had wavered and, +like a fool, had forgiven his enemy." + +"Was he a Christian?" I asked (and had often wondered in the past). + +"_Nahin_, Sahib! He was a Mussulman, my father having had him taught +with special care by a holy _moulvie_,[38] by reason of the fact that +his mother had had him sprinkled with holy water by her priests and had +taught him the tenets of the Christian faith--doubtless a high and noble +one since your honour is of it." + + [38] Priest. + +"He had been taught the Christian doctrines, then?" + +"Without doubt, Sahib. Throughout his childhood; in the absence of his +father. And doubtless this aided his foreign blood in making him act +thus foolishly." + +"Doubtless," I agreed, with a smile. + +"Yea, at the last moment he had put his vengeance from him and behaved +like a weak fool, throwing away the acid, cleaning the bottle and +filling it with pure water. He had intended to give Ibrahim a fright +(and also the opprobrious title of _the Weeper_), to teach him a lesson +and to let him go--provided he swore on the Q'ran never to return to +Mekran Kot when he left for England.... Such a man was my poor brother. +But the hand of Allah intervened and Ibrahim the Weeper lived and died +stone blind.... A strange man that poor brother of mine, strong save +when his foreign blood and foreign religion arose like poison within him +and made him weak.... There was the case of the English Sergeant +Larnce-Ishmeet whom he spared and sent into the English lines in the +little Border War." + +"Lance-Sergeant Smith? What regiment?" I asked. + +"I know not, Sahib, save that it was a British Infantry Regiment. (He +was not Lance-Sergeant Ishmeet but Sergeant Larnce-Ishmeet.) We ... I +mean ... they ... slew many of a Company that was doing rear-guard and +their officers being slain and many men also, a Sergeant took them off +with great skill. Section by section, from point to point he retired +them, and our ... their ... triumphant joy at the capture and slaughter +of the Company was changed to gnashing of teeth--for we lost many and +the Company retired safely on the main body. But we got the Sergeant, +badly wounded, and my brother would not have him slain. Rather he showed +him much honour and had him borne to Mekran Kot, and when he was healed +he took him to within sight of the outermost Khyber fort and set him +free.... Yet was he not an enemy, Sahib, taken in war? Strange +weaknesses had my poor brother...." + +"I knew a Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith," I remarked, as light dawned on +me after pondering "Larnce-Ishmeet." "He shot himself at Duri some time +ago." + +"He was a brave man," said Mir Daoud Khan. "Peace be upon him." + +"And what became of your brother?" I asked, although I knew only too +well--alas! + +"He left Mekran Kot when I did, Sahib, for our father died, the old Jam +Saheb was poisoned, and we had to flee or die. I never saw him again for +he made much money (out of rifles), travelled widely, and became a +Sahib (and I followed the _pultan_[39]). But he died as a Pathan +should--for his honour. In Gungapur jail they hanged him (after the +failure of the foolish attempt by some seditious Sikhs and Punjabis and +Bengalis at a second Great Killing) and I do not care to speak of that +thing even to--" + + [39] Infantry Regiment. + +A sputter of musketry broke out in the thick vegetation of the +river-bed, crackled and spread, as Subedar-Major Mir Daoud Khan (once +against the civilized, brave and distinguished officer) and I sprang to +our feet and hurried to our posts--I, even at that moment, thinking how +small a World is this, and how long is the long arm of Coincidence. Here +was I, while waiting for what then seemed almost certain death, hearing +from the lips of his own brother, the early history of the remarkable, +secretive and mysterious man whom I had loved above all men, and whose +death had been the tragedy of my life. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE BOY. + +(Mainly concerning the early life of Moussa Isa Somali.) + + +Moussa Isa Somali never stole, lied, seduced, cheated, drank, swore, +gambled, betrayed, slandered, blasphemed, nor behaved meanly nor +cowardly--but, alas! he had personal and racial Pride. + +It is written that Pride is the sin of Devils and that by it, Lucifer, +Son of the Morning, fell. + +If it be remembered that he fell for nine days, be realized that he must +have fallen with an acceleration of velocity of thirty-two feet per +second, each second, and be conceded that he weighed a good average +number of pounds, some idea will be formed of the violence of the +concussion with which he came to earth. + +In spite of the terrible warning provided by so great a smash there yet +remain people who will argue that it is better to fall through Pride +than to remain unfallen through lack of it. By Pride, _Pride_ is meant +of course--not Conceit, Snobbishness and Bumptiousness, which are all +very damnable, and signs of a weak, base mind. One gathers that Lucifer, +Son of the Morning, was not conceited, snobbish, nor bumptious. Nor was +Moussa, son of Isa, Somali--but, like Lucifer, Son of the Morning, +Devil, he fell, through Pride, and came to a Bad End. + +One has known people who have owned to a sneaking liking and unwilling +admiration for Lucifer, Son of the Morning--people of the same sort as +those who find it difficult wholly to revere the prideless Erect when +comparing them with the prideful Fallen--and, for the life of me, I +cannot help a sneaking liking and unwilling admiration for Moussa Isa +Somali, who fell through Pride. + +There was something fine about him, even as there was about Lucifer, Son +of the Morning, and one cannot avoid feeling that if both did not get +more of hard luck and less of justice than some virtuous people one +knows, they certainly cut a better figure. Of course it is a mistake to +adopt any line of action that leads definitely to the position of +Under-Dog, and to fight when you cannot win. It is not Prudent, and +Prudence leads to Favour, Success, Decorations, and the Respect of +Others if not of yourself. It is also to be remembered that whether you +are a Wicked Rebel or a Noble True-Hearted Patriot depends very largely +on whether you succeed or fail. + +All of which is mere specious and idle special pleading on behalf of +Moussa Isa, a sinful murderous Somali.... + +Most of the memories of Moussa Isa centred round scars. When I say +"memories of Moussa Isa" I mean Moussa Isa's own memories, for there are +no memories concerning him. The might, majesty, dominion and power of +the British Empire were arrayed against him, and the Empire's duly +appointed agents hanged him by the neck until he was dead--at an age +when some people are yet at school, albeit he had gathered in his few +years of life a quantity and quality of experience quite remarkable. + +'Twas a sordid business, and yet Moussa Isa died, like many very +respectable and highly belauded folk, from the early Christians in Italy +to the late Christians in Armenia, for a principle and an idea. + +He was black, he was filthy, he was savage, ignorant and ugly--but he +had his Pride, both personal and racial, for he was a Somali. A Somali, +mark you, not a mere _Hubshi_ or Woolly One, not a common Nigger, not a +low and despicable person--worshipping idols, eating human flesh, grubs, +roots and bark--the "black ivory" of Arabs. + +If you called Moussa Isa a Hubshi, he either killed you or marked you +down for death, according to circumstances. + +Had Moussa Isa lived a few centuries earlier, been of another colour, +and swanked around in painful iron garments and assorted cutlery, he +would have been highly praised for his fine and proper spirit. Poet, +bard, and troubadour would have noted and published his quickness on the +point of honour. Moussa would have been set to music and have become a +source of income to the gifted. He would have become a Pillar of the +Order of Knighthood and an Ornament of the Age of Chivalry. A wreath of +laurels would have encircled his brow--instead of a rope of hemp +encircling his neck. + +For such fine, quick, self-respecting Pride, such resentment of insult, +men have become Splendid Figures of the Glorious Past. + +_Autres jours autres moeurs_. + +How many people called him _Hubshi_, we know not; but we know, from his +own lips, of the killing of some few. Of the killing of others he had +forgotten, for his memory was poor, save for insult and kindness. And, +having caught and convicted him in one or two cases the appointed +servants of the British Empire first "reformed" and then slew him in +their turn--thus descending to his level without his excuse of private +personal insult and injury.... + +The scars on Moussa Isa's face with the hole in his ear were connected +with one of his very earliest memories--or one of his very earliest +memories was connected with the scars on his face and the hole in his +ear--a memory of jolting along on a camel, swinging upside-down, while a +strong hand grasped his foot; of seeing his father rush at his captor +with a long, broad-bladed spear, of being whirled and flung at his +father's head; and of seeing his father's intimate internal economy +seriously and permanently disarranged by the two-handed sword of one of +the camel rider's colleagues (who flung aside a heavy gun which he had +just emptied into Moussa's mamma) as his father fell to the ground under +the impact and weight of the novel missile. Though Moussa was unaware, +in his abysmal ignorance, of the interesting fact, the great two-handed +sword so effectually wielded by the supporter of his captor, was exactly +like that of a Crusader of old. It was like that of a Crusader of old, +because it was a direct lineal descendant of the swords of the Crusaders +who had brought the first specimens to the country, quite a good many +years previously. Indeed some people said that a few of the swords +owned by these Dervishes were real, original, Crusaders' swords, the +very weapons whose hilts were once grasped by Norman hands, and whose +blades had cloven Paynim heads in the name of Christianity and the +interests of the Sepulchre. I do not know--but it is a wonderfully dry +climate, and swords are there kept, cherished, and bequeathed, even more +religiously than were the Stately Homes of England in that once +prosperous land, in the days before park, covert, pleasaunce, forest, +glade, dell, and garden became allotments, and the spoil of the +"Working"-man. + +Picked up after the raid and pursuit with a faceful of gravel, sand, +dirt, and tetanus-germs, Moussa Isa, orphan, was flung on a pile of dead +Somali spearmen and swordsmen, of horses, asses, camels, negroes, (old) +women and other cattle--and, crawling off again, received kicks and +orders to clean and polish certain much ensanguined weapons sullied with +the blood of his near and distant relatives. Thereafter he was +recognized by the above-mentioned swordsman, and accorded the privilege +of removing his own father's blood from the great two-handed sword +before alluded to--a task of a kind that does not fall to many little +boys. So willingly and cheerfully did Moussa perform his arduous duty +(arduous because the blood had had time to dry, and dried blood takes a +lot of removing from steel by one unprovided with hot water) that the +Arab swordsman instead of blowing off the child's head with his long and +beautiful gun, damascened of barrel, gold-mounted of lock, and +pearl-inlaid of stock, allowed him to rim for his life that he might die +a sporting death in hot blood, doing his devilmost. (These were not +slavers but avengers of enmity to the Mad Mullah and punishers of +friendship to the English.) + +"How much law will you give me, O Emir?" asked the child. + +"Perhaps ten yards, dog, perhaps a hundred, perhaps more.... Run!" + +"_You_ could hit me at a thousand yards, O Emir," was the reply. "Let me +die by a shot that men will talk about...." + +"Run, yelping dog," growled the Arab with a sardonic smile. + +And Moussa ran. He also bounded, shied, dodged, ducked, swerved, +dropped, crawled, zig-zagged and generally gave his best attention to +evading the shot of the common fighting-man whom he had propitiatorily +addressed as "_Emir_," though a mere wearer of a single fillet of +camel-hair cord around his _haik_. Like a naval gunner--the Arab laid +his gun and waited till the sights "came on," fired, and had the +satisfaction of seeing the child fling up his arms, leap into the air +and fall twitching to the ground. Good shot! The twitches and the last +convulsive spasm were highly artistic and creditable to the histrionic +powers of Moussa Isa, shot through the ear, and inwardly congratulating +himself that he had yet a chance. But then he had had wide opportunity +for observation, and plenty of good models, in the matter of +sudden-death spasms and twitches, so the credit is the less. Anyhow, it +deceived experienced Arab eyes at a hundred yards, and the performance +may therefore be classed as good. To the reflective person it will be +manifest that Moussa's reverence for the sanctity of human life +received but little encouragement or development from the very +beginning.... + +Returning refugees, a few days later, found Moussa very pleased-with +himself and very displeased with uncooked putrid flesh. Being +exceedingly poor and depressed as a result of the Mad Mullah's vengeful +_razzia_, they sold Moussa Isa, friendless, kinless orphan, and once +again cursed the false English who made them great promises in the +Mahdi's troublous day, and abandoned them to the Mad Mullah and his +Dervishes as soon as the Mahdi was happily dead. + +The Mad Mullah they could understand; the English they could not. For +the Mad Mullah they had no blame whatsoever; for the English they had +the bitterest blame, the deepest hatred and the uttermost contempt. Who +blames the lion for seeking and slaying his prey? Who defends the +unspeakable creature that throws its friends and children to the +lion--in payment of its debts and in cancellation of its obligations to +those friends and children? In discussing the raid on their way to +market with Moussa Isa, they mentioned the name of the Mad Mullah with +respect and fear. When they mentioned the English they expectorated and +made a gesture too significant to be particularized. And the tom-toms +once again throbbed through the long nights, sending (by a code that was +before Morse) from village to village, from the sea to the Nile, from +the Nile to the Niger and the Zambesi, from the Mediterranean to the +Cape, the news that once more the Mad Mullah had flouted that failing +and treacherous race, the English, and slaughtered those who lived +within their gates, under the shadow of their flag and the promise of +their protection. + +Ere Moussa Isa got his next prominent scar, the signal-drums throbbed +out the news that the gates were thrown open, the flag hauled down, and +the promises shamefully broken. That the representatives of the failing +treacherous race now stood huddled along the sea-shore in fear and +trembling, while those who had helped them in their trouble and had +believed their word were slaughtered by the thousand; that the country +was the home of fire and sword, the oasis-fields yielding nothing but +corpses, the wells choked with dead ... red slaughter, black pestilence, +starvation, misery and death, where had been green cultivation, fenced +villages, the sound of the quern and the well-wheel, the song of women +and the cry of the ploughman to his oxen. News and comments which did +nothing to lessen the pride and insolence of the Jubaland tribesmen, of +the Wak tribesmen, of the bold Zubhier sons of the desert, nor to strike +terror to the hearts of the murderers of Captain Aylmer and Mr. Jenner, +of slave-traders, game-poachers, raiders, wallowers in slaughter.... + +Another very noticeable and remarkable scar broke the fine lines and +smooth contours of Moussa's throat and another memory was as indelibly +established in his mind as was the said scar on his flesh. + +At any time that he fingered the horrible ridged cicatrice, he could see +the boundless ocean and the boundless blue sky from a wretched cranky +canoe-shaped boat, in which certain Arab, Somali, Negro, and other +gentlemen were proceeding all the way from near Berbera to near Aden +with large trustfulness in Allah and with certain less creditable goods. +It was a long, unwieldy vessel which ten men could row, one could steer +with a broad oar, and a small three-cornered sail could keep before the +wind. + +But the various-clad crew of this cranky craft were gentlemen all, who, +beyond running up the string-tied sail to the clothes-prop mast, or +taking a trick at the wheel--another clothes-prop with a large disc of +wood at the water-end, were far above work. + +Trusting in Allah and Mohammed his Prophet is a lot easier than rowing a +lineless, blunt-nosed, unseaworthy boat beneath a tropical sun. So they +trusted in God, and permitted Moussa Isa, slave-boy, to do all that it +was humanly possible for him to do. + +Moussa did all that was expected of him, but not so Allah and Mohammed +his Prophet. + +The gentle breeze that (sometimes) carries you steadily over a glassy +sea straight up the forty-fifth meridian of east longitude from Berbera +to Aden in the month of October, failed these worthy trustful Argonauts, +and they were becalmed. + +But Time is made for slaves, and the only slave upon the Argosy was +Moussa Isa, and so the becalming was neither here nor there. The cargo +would keep (if kept dry) for many a long day--and the greater the delay +in delivery, the greater the impatience of the consignees and their +willingness to pay even more than the stipulated price--its weight in +silver _per_ rifle. But food is made for men as well as slaves, and if +you, in your noble trustfulness, resolutely decline to reduce your daily +rations, there must, with mathematical certitude of date, arrive the +final period to any given and limited supply. Though banking wholly with +Heaven in the matter of their own salvation from hunger, the Argonauts +displayed mere worldly wisdom in the case of Moussa Isa and gave him the +minimum of food that might be calculated to keep within him strength +adequate to his duties of steering, swarming up the mast, baling, +cooking, massaging the liver of the Leading Gentleman, and so forth. And +in due course, the calm continuing, these pious and religious voyagers +came to the bitter end of their water, their rice, their _dhurra_, their +dates--and all (except the salt and coffee which formed part of the +ostensible, bogus cargo) that they had, as they too-slowly drifted into +the track of those vessels that enter and leave the strait of +Bab-el-Mandeb, the Gate of Tears, the tears of the starving, drowning, +ship-wrecked and castaway. + +Salt _per se_ is a poor diet, and, for the making of potable coffee, +fresh water is very necessary. + +Some of the Argonauts were, as has been said, Negro gentlemen. On the +third day of absolute starvation, one had an Idea and made a suggestion. + +The Leading Gentleman entertained it with an open mind and without +enthusiasm. + +The Tanga tout acclaimed it as a divine inspiration. + +The one-eyed Moor literally smiled upon it. As his eye was single and +his body therefore full of light, he saw the beauty of the notion at +once. Had it been full of food instead, we may charitably suppose he +would not have remarked:-- + +"A pity we did not feed him up better". + +For the suggestion concerned Moussa Isa and food--Moussa Isa as food, +in point of fact. The venerable gentle-looking Arab, whose face beamed +effulgent with benevolence and virtue, murmured:-- + +"He will have but little blood, the dog. None of it must +be--er--_wasted_ by the--ah--butcher." + +The huge man with the neat geometrical pattern of little scars, +perpendicular on the forehead, horizontal on the cheeks and in +concentric circles on the chest (done with loving care and a knife, in +his infancy, by his papa) said only "_Ptwack_" as he chewed a mouthful +of coffee-beans and hide. It may have been a pious ejaculation or a +whole speech in his own peculiar vernacular. It was a tremendous +smacking of tremendous lips, and the expression which overspread his +speaking countenance was of gusto, appreciative, and such as accords +with lip-smacking. + +But a very fair man (very fair beside the Negroes, Somalis, Arabs and +others our little black and brown brothers), a man with grey-blue eyes, +light brown hair and moustache, and olive complexion, said to the +originator of the Idea in faultless English, if not in faultless taste +"You damned swine". + +A look of profoundest disgust overspread his handsome young face, a face +which undoubtedly lent itself to very clear expression of such feelings +as contempt, disgust and scorn, an unusual face, with the thin +high-bridged nose of an English aristocrat, the large eyes and pencilled +black brows of an Indian noble, the sallow yet cheek-flushed complexion +of an Italian peasant-girl, and the firm lips, square jaw, and prominent +chin of a fighting-man. It was essentially an English face in +expression, and essentially foreign in detail; a face of extraordinary +contradictions. The eyes were English in colour, Oriental in size and +shape; the mouth and chin English in mould and in repose, Oriental in +mobility and animation; the whole countenance English in shape, Oriental +in complexion and profile--a fine, high-bred, strong face, upon which +played shadows of cruelty, ferocity, diabolical cunning; a face admired +more quickly than liked, inspiring more speculation than trust. + +The same duality and contradiction were proclaimed in the hands--strong, +tenacious, virile hands; small, fine, delicate hands; hands with the +powerful and purposeful thumb of the West; hands with the supple +artistic fingers and delicate finger-nails of the East. + +And the man's name was in keeping with hands and face, with mind, body, +soul, and character, for, though he would not have done so, he could +have replied to the query "What is your name?" with "My name? Well, in +full, it is John Robin Ross-Ellison Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan, and its explanation is my descent from General Ross-Ellison, +Laird of Glencairn, and from Mir Faquir Mahommed Afzul Khan, Jam of +Mekran Kot". + +In Piccadilly, wearing the garb of Piccadilly, he looked an Englishman +of the English. + +In Abdul Rehman Bazaar, Cabul, wearing the garb of Abdul Rehman Bazaar, +he looked a Pathan of Pathans. In the former case, rather more sunburnt +than the average lounger in Piccadilly; in the latter, rather fairer +than the average Afghan and Pathan loafer in Abdul Rehman Bazaar. + +"Walking down Unter den Linden in Berlin, with upturned moustache, he +looked a most Teutonic German. + +"You observed, my friend?" queried the Leading Gentleman (whose father +was the son of a Negro-Arab who married, or should have married, a +Jewess captured near Fez, and whose mother was the daughter of a +Tunisian Turk by a half-bred Negress of Timbuctoo). + +"I observed," replied the fair young man in the mongrel Arabic-Swahili +_lingua franca_ of the Red Sea and East African littorals "that it is +but natural for dogs to prey upon dogs." + +"There are times when the lion is driven to prey upon dogs, my dear +son," interposed the mild-eyed, benevolent-looking Arab--a pensive smile +on his venerable face. + +"Yes--when he is old, mangy, toothless and deserving of nothing better, +my dear father," replied the fair young man, and his glances at the +white beard, scanty locks and mumbling mouth of the ancient gentleman +had an unpleasantly personal quality. To the casual on-looker it would +have seemed that an impudent boy deliberately insulted a harmless +benevolent old gentleman. To the fair young man, however, it was well +known that the old gentleman's name was famous across Northern and +Eastern Africa for monstrous villainy and fiendish cruelty--the name of +the worst and wickedest of those traders in "black ivory," one of whose +side-lines is frequently gun-running. Also he knew that the +benevolent-looking old dear was desirous that the Leading Gentleman, his +partner, should join with him in a little scheme (a scheme revealed by +one Moussa Isa, eaves-dropper) to give the fair young man some inches +of steel instead of the pounds of Teutonic gold due for services (and +rifles) rendered, when they should reach the quiet spot on the northern +shore of the Persian Gulf where certain bold caravan-leaders would await +them and their precious cargo--a scheme condemned by the Leading +Gentleman on the grounds of the folly of killing the goose that laid the +golden eggs. But then the wealthy Arab patriarch was retiring from the +risky business (already nearly ruined and destroyed by English +gun-boats) after that trip, and the Leading Gentleman was not. Thus it +was that the attitude of the fair young man toward Sheikh Abou ben +Mustapha Muscati did not display that degree of respect that his grey +hairs and beautiful old face would appear to deserve. + +The French-speaking Moslem Berber _ex_-Zouave, from Algiers, suggested +that Moussa Isa, a slave, was certainly not fitting food for gentlemen +who fight, hunt, travel, poach elephants, deal in "black ivory," run +guns, and generally lead a life too picturesque for an over-"educated," +utilitarian and depressing age--but what would you? "One eats--but yes, +one eats, or one ceases to live, and one does not wish to cease to +live--and therefore one eats" and he cocked a yellow and appraising eye +at Moussa Isa. The sense of the meeting appeared to be that though one +would not have chosen this particular animal, necessity knows no +rule--and if the throat be cut while the animal be alive, one may eat of +the flesh and break the Law by so much the less. Moussa Isa must be +_halalled_.[40] But the fair young man drawing a Khyber knife with two +feet of blade, observed that it was now likely that there would be a +plethora of food, as he would most assuredly cut the throat of any +throat-cutter. + + [40] To _halal_ is to make lawful, here to cut the throat of a living + animal in order that its flesh may be eatable by good Mussulmans. + +Moussa Isa regarded him with the look often seen in the eye of an +intelligent dog. + +The venerable Arab smiled meaningly at the Leading Gentleman, and the +Tanga tout asked if all were to hunger for the silly scruples of one. +"If the fair-faced Sheikh did not wish to eat of Moussa, none would urge +it. Live and let live. The gentlemen were hungry; ..." but the fair +young man unreasonably replied, "Then let them eat _thee_ since they can +stomach carrion," and for the moment the subject dropped--largely +because the fair young man was supposed always to carry a revolver, +which was not a habit of his good colleagues. It was another evidence of +his strange duality that revolver and knife were (rare phenomenon) +equally acceptable to him, though in certain environment the pistol +rather suggested itself to his left hand, while in others his right hand +went quite unconsciously to his long knife. + +In the present company no thought of the fire-arm entered his head--this +was a knifing, back-stabbing outfit;--none here who stood up to shoot +and be shot at in fair fight.... + +The Leading Gentleman looked many times and hard at Moussa Isa during +the second day of his own starvation, which was the third of that of his +companions and the fourth of Moussa's. The Leading Gentleman, who was as +rich as he was ragged and dirty, wore a very beautiful knife, which +(though it reposed in a gaudy sheath of yellow, green and blue beads, +fringed with a dependent filigree, or lace work, of similar beads with +tassels of cowrie-shells) hailed from Damascus and had a handle of ivory +and gold, and an inlaid blade on which were inscribed verses from the +Q'ran. + +Moussa Isa knew the pattern of it well by the close of day. The Leading +Gentleman took that evening to sharpening the already sharp blade of the +knife. As he sharpened it on his sandal and the side of the boat, and +tried its edge on his thumb, he regarded the thin body of Moussa Isa +very critically. + +His look blended contempt, anticipation, and anxiety. + +He broke a long brooding silence with the remark:-- + +"The little dog will be thinner still, to-morrow "--a remark which +evoked from the fair youth the reply: "And so will you". + +Perhaps truth covered and excused a certain indelicacy and callousness +in the statement of the Leading Gentleman, albeit the fair young man +appeared annoyed at it. His British blood and instincts became +predominant when the killing and eating of a fellow-creature were on the +_tapis_--the said fellow-creature being on it at the same time. + +A colleague from Dar-es-Salaam, who had an ear and a half, three teeth, +six fingers, innumerable pockmarks and a German accent, said, "He will +have little fat," and there was bitterness in his tone. As a business +man he realized a bad investment of capital. The food in which they had +wallowed should have gone to the fattening of Moussa Isa. Also a fear +struck him. + +"He'll jump overboard in the night--the ungrateful dog. Tie him up," and +he reached for a coil of cord. + +"He will not be tied up," observed the fair youth in a quiet, obstinate +voice. + +"See, my friend," said the Leading Gentleman, "it is a case of one or +many. Better _that_ one," and he pointed to Moussa Isa, "than another," +and he looked meaningly at the fair young man. + +"And yet, I know not," murmured the venerable Arab, "I know not. We are +not in the debt of the slave. We _are_ in the debt of the Sheikh. It +would cancel all obligations if the Sheikh from the North preferred to +offer himself as--" + +The young man's long knife flashed from its sheath as he sprang to his +feet. "Let us eat monkey, if eat we must," he cried, pointing to the +Arab--and, even as he spoke, the huge man with the scars, flinging his +great arms around the youth's ankles, partly rose and neatly tipped him +overboard. He had long hated the fair man. + +Straightway, unseen by any, as all eyes were on the grey-eyed youth and +his assailant, Moussa Isa cast loose the _toni_[41] that nestled beneath +the stern of the larger boat. He was about to shout that he had done so +when he realised that this would defeat his purpose, and also that the +fair Sheikh was still under water. + + [41] Small dug-out canoe. + +"Good," murmured the old Arab, "now brain him as he comes up--and secure +his body." + +But the fair youth knew better than to rise in the immediate +neighbourhood of the boat. Swimming with the ease, grace and speed of a +seal, he emerged with bursting lungs a good hundred yards from where he +had disappeared. Having breathed deeply he again sank, to re-appear at +a point still more distant, and be lost in the gathering gloom. + +"He is off to Cabul to lay his case before the Amir," observed the +elderly Arab with grim humour. + +"Doubtless," agreed the Leading Gentleman, "he will swim the 2000 miles +to India, and then up the Indus to Attock." And added, "But, bear +witness all, if the young devil turn up again some day, that _I_ had no +quarrel with him.... A pity! A pity!... Where shall we find his like, a +Prank among the Franks, an Afghan among Afghans, a Frenchman in Algiers, +a nomad robber in Persia, a Bey in Cairo, a Sahib in Bombay--equally at +home as gentleman or tribesman? Where shall we find his like again as +gatherer of the yellow honey of Berlin and as negotiator in Marseilles +(where the discarded Gras breech-loaders of the army grow) and in +Muscat? Woe! Woe!" + +"Or his like for impudence to his elders, harshness in a bargain, +cunning and greed?" added the benevolent-looking Arab, who had gained a +handsome sum by the murder. + +"For courage," corrected the Leading Gentleman, and with a heavy sigh, +groaned. "We shall never see him more--and he was worth his weight to me +annually in gold." + +"No, you won't see him again," agreed the Arab. "He'll hardly swim to +Aden--apart from the little matter of sharks.... A pity the sharks +should have so fair a body--and we starve!" and he turned a fatherly +benevolent eye on Moussa Isa--whom a tall slender black Arab, from the +hills about Port Sudan, of the true "fuzzy-wuzzy" type, had seized in +his thin but Herculean arms as the boy rose to spring into the _toni_ +and paddle to the rescue of his benefactor. + +The Dar-es-Salaam merchant threw Fuzzy Wuzzy a coil of cord and Moussa +Isa (who struggled, kicked, bit and finding resistance hopeless, +screamed, "Follow the boat, Master," as he lay on his back), was bound +to a cracked and salt-encrusted beam or seat that supported, or was +supported by, the cracked and salt-encrusted sides of the canoe-shaped +vessel. + +Although very, very hungry, and perhaps as conscienceless and wicked a +gang as ever assembled together on the earth or went down to the sea in +ships, there was yet a certain reluctance on the part of some of the +members to revert to cannibalism, although all agreed that it was +necessary. + +Among the reluctant-to-commence were those who had no negro blood. Among +the ready-to-commence, the full-blooded negroes were the most impatient. + +Although very hungry and rather weak they were in different case from +that of European castaway sailors, in that all were inured to long +periods of fasting, all had crossed the Sahara or the Sus, lived for +days on a handful of dates, and had tightened the waist-string by way of +a meal. Few of them ever thought of eating between sunrise and sunset. +The lives of the negroes were alternations of gorging and starving, +incredible repletion and more incredible fasting; devouring vast masses +of hippopotamus-flesh to-day, and starving for a week thereafter; pounds +of prime meat to-day, gnawing hunger and the weakness of semi-starvation +for the next month. + +"At sunrise," said the Leading Gentleman finality. + +Good! That left the so-desirable element of chance. It left opportunity +for change of programme inasmuch as sunrise might disclose help in the +shape of a passing ship. The matter would rest with Heaven, and pious +men might lay them down to sleep with clear conscience, reflecting that, +should it be the Will of Allah that His servants should not eat of this +flesh, other would be provided; should other not be provided it was +clearly the Will of Allah that His servants should eat of this flesh! +Excellent--there would be a meal soon after sunrise. + +And the Argonauts laid them down to sleep, hungry but gratefully +trustful, trustfully grateful. But Moussa Isa watched the wondrous +lustrous stars throughout the age-long, flash-short night and thought of +many things. + +Had the splendid, noble Sheikh from the North heard his cry and had he +found the _toni_? How far had he swum ere his strength gave out or, with +sudden swirl, he was dragged under by the man-eating shark? Would he +remove his long cotton shirt, velvet waistcoat and baggy cotton +trousers? The latter would present difficulties, for the waist-string +would tangle and the water would swell the knot and prevent the drawing +of string over string. + +Moreover, the garments, though very baggy, were tight round the ankles. +Would he cast off his beautiful yard-long Khyber knife? It would go to +his heart to do that, both for the sake of the weapon itself and because +he would have to go to his death unavenged, seized by a shark without +giving it its death-wound. Had he heard and would he follow the boat in +the moonlight, find the _toni_ and escape? Could he swim to Aden? They +had said not--even leaving sharks out of consideration, and indeed it +must be forty or fifty miles away. Judging by their progress they must +have done about one hundred and fifty miles since they embarked at the +lonely spot on the Berbera coast for the other lonely spot on the Aden +coast, where certain whisperings with certain mysterious camel-riders +would preface their provisioning for the voyage along the weary +Hadramant coast to the Ras el Had and Muscat--just a humble boat-load of +poor but honest toilers and tradesmen, interested in dried fish, dates, +the pearl-fishery and the pettiest trading. No, he would never reach +land, wonderful swimmer as he was. He would be lost in the sea as is the +Webi Shebeyli River in the sands of the South, unless he followed the +drifting boat and found the _toni_. Otherwise, he might be picked up, +but he would have to keep afloat all night to do that, unless he had the +extraordinary luck to be seen by dhow or ship before dark. That could +hardly be, unless the same ship or dhow were visible from their own +boat, and none had been seen. + +No, he must be dead--and Moussa Isa would shortly follow him. How he +wished he could have given his life to save him. Had he known, he would +have cried out, "Let them eat me, O Master," and prevented him from +risking his life. If he should get the chance of striking one blow for +his life in the morning he would bestow it upon the scar-faced beast who +had tripped the fair Sheik overboard. If he could strike two he would +give the second to the old Arab who flogged women and children to death +with the _kourbash_,[42] as an amusement, and whose cruelties were +famous in a cruel land; the old Evil who hated, and plotted the death +of, the fair Sheikh, with the leader of the expedition in order that +they might divide his large share of the gun-running proceeds and German +subsidy. If he could strike a third blow it should be at the filthy +Hubshi of the Aruwimi, the low degraded Woolly One from the dark +Interior (of human sacrifice, cannibalism and ju-ju) who had proposed +eating him. Yes--if he could grab the leader's knife and deal three such +stabs as the Sheikh dealt the lion, at these three, he could die +content. But this was absurd! They would _halal_ him first, of course, +and unbind him afterwards.... They might unbind him first though, so as +to place him favourably with regard to--economy. They would use the +empty army-ration tin, shining there like silver in the moonlight, the +tin with which he had done so much weary baling. Doubtless the leader +and the Arab would share its contents. He grudged it them, and hoped a +quarrel and struggle might arise and cause it to be spilt. + + [42] Rhinoceros-hide whip. + +An unpleasant death! Without cowardice one might dislike the thought of +having one's throat cut while one's hands were bound and one watched the +blood gushing into an old army-ration tin. Perhaps there would be none +to gush--and a good job too. Serve them right. Could he cut his wrists +on a nail or a splinter or with the cords, and cheat them, if there were +any blood in him now. He would try. Yes, an unpleasant death. No one, +no true Somali, that is, objected to a prod in the heart with a +shovel-headed spear, a thwack in the head with a hammered slug, a sweep +at the neck with a big sword--but to have a person sawing at your throat +with weak and shaking hands is rotten.... + +One quite appreciated that masters must eat and slaves must die, and the +religious necessity for cutting the throat while the animal is alive, +according to the Law--and there was great comfort in the fact that the +leader's knife was inscribed with verses of the Q'ran and would probably +be used for the job. (The leader liked jobs of that sort.) Countless it +would confer distinction in Paradise upon one already distinguished as +having died to provide food for a band of right-thinking, +religious-minded gentlemen, who, even in such terrible straits, forgot +not the Law nor omitted the ceremonies.... + +Where now was the fair-faced master who so resembled the English but was +so much braver, fiercer, so much more staunch? Though fair as they, and +knowing their speech, he could not be of a race that led whole tribes to +trust in them, called them "Friendlies" and then forsook them; came to +them in the day of trouble asking help, and then scuttled away and +deserted their allies, leaving them to face alone the Power whose wrath +and vengeance their help-giving had provoked. Yet there were good men +among them--there was Kafil[43] Bey for example. Kafil Bey whose last +noble fight he had witnessed. If the fair-faced Sheikh had any of the +weak English blood in his veins it must be of such a man as Kafil Bey. + + [43] Corfield? + +Was he still swimming? Had he been picked up? Was he shark's food? To +think that _he_ should have come to his death over such a thing as a +slave boy (albeit a Somali and no Hubshi). + +This was an Emir indeed. + +An idea!... He called aloud: "Are you there, Master? The _toni_ is loose +and must be near," again and again, louder and louder. Perhaps he was +following and would hear. Again, louder still. + +The one-eyed man, disturbed by the cry, stirred, threw his arms abroad, +stretched, and put his foot on the mouth of a neighbour lying +head-to-foot beside him. The neighbour snored loudly and turned his face +sideways under the foot. He had slept standing jammed against the wall +in the Idris of Omdurman, one of the most terrible jails of all time, +and a huge foot on his face was a matter of no moment. + +The Tanga tout suddenly emitted a scream, a blood-curdling scream, and +immediately scratched his ribs like a monkey.... Moussa Isa held his +peace. + +Anon the scar-faced man turned over, moving others. + +Could it be near dawn already, and were his proprietors waking up? He +could see no change in the East, no paling of the lustrous stars. Was it +an hour ago or eight hours ago that the night had fallen? Had he an hour +to live or a night? Would he ever see Berbera again, steer a boat down +its deep inlet, gaze upon its two lighthouses, its fort, hospital, +barracks, piers, warehouses, bazaars; drive a camel along by its seven +miles of aqueduct, look down from the hills upon this wonderful and +mighty metropolis, greater and grander than Jibuti, Zeyla, Bulhar and +Karam, surely the greatest and most marvellous port and city of the +world, ere driving on through the thorn-bush and acacia-jungle into the +vast waterless Haud? Would he ever again see the sun rise in the desert, +smell the smoke of the camel-dung cooking-fires.... What was that? The +sky was paling in the East, growing grey, a rose-pink flush on the +horizon--dawn and death were at hand. + +Before the heralds of the sun, the moon slowly veiled her face with +lightest gossamer while the weaker stars fled. The daily miracle and +common marvel proceeded before the tired eyes of the bound slave; the +rim of the sun appeared above the rim of the sea; the moon more deeply +veiled her face from the fierce red eye, and gracefully and gradually +retired before the advance of the usurping conqueror--and the slave +seemed to hear the fat croaking voice of the leader saying, "At +sunrise". + +Broad day and all but he asleep. Well--it had come at last. When would +they awake? Was the toni anywhere near? + +The man with the geometrical pattern of scars on his face and chest +suddenly sat bolt upright like a released spring, yawned, looked at the +sky and the limp sail, and then at Moussa Isa. As his eye fell upon the +boy he smiled copiously, protruded a very red tongue between very white +teeth, and licked huge blue-black lips. He leaned over and awakened the +Leading Gentleman. Then he pointed to the Victim. Both watched the +horizon where, beyond distant Bombay and China, the sun was appearing, +rising with the rapidity of the minute hand of a big clock. Neither +looked to the West. + +The child knew that when the sun had risen clear of the sea, he might +look upon it for a minute or two--and no more. A puff of wind fanned his +cheek; the sail filled and drew. The boat moved through the water and +the one-eyed gentleman, arising and treading upon the out-lying tracts +of the sleepers, stumbled to the rudder, which was tied with +coconut-fibre to an upright stake. The breeze strengthened and there was +a ripple of water at the bows. Was he saved? + +The one-eyed person looked more disappointed than pleased, and observed +to the Leading Gentleman: "We cannot live to Aden, though the wind hold. +We must eat," and he regarded the figure of Moussa Isa critically, +appraisingly, with mingled favour and disfavour. His expressive +countenance seemed to say, "He is food--but he is poor food". + +Nevertheless an unmistakable look of relief overspread his face as the +Leading Gentleman replied with conviction, "We must eat...." and added, +"This is but a dawn-breeze and will not take us half a mile". + +"Then let us eat forthwith," said the one-eyed man, and he fairly beamed +upon Moussa Isa, doubtless with the said light of which his body was +full, in consequence of his singleness of vision. The whole party was by +this time awake and Moussa Isa the cynosure of neighbouring eyes. The +Leading Gentleman drew his beautiful knife from its tawdry sheath and +gave it a last loving strop on his horny palm. + +Willing hands dragged the head of Moussa Isa across the beam and willing +bodies sat upon him, that he might not waste time, and something more +precious, by thoughtless wriggling, delaying breakfast. The Leading +Gentleman crawled to an advantageous position, and having bowed in +prayer, sawed away industriously. + +Moussa Isa wished to shriek to him that he was a fool and a bungler; +that throats were not to be cut in that fashion, with hackings and +sawing at the gullet. Knew the clumsy fumbler nothing of big +blood-vessels?... but he could not speak. + +"_That_ is not the way," said the benevolent-looking old Arab. "Stab, +man, stab under the ear--don't cut ... not there, anyhow." + +The Leading Gentleman tried the other side of the double-edged blade, +continuing obstinately, and Moussa Isa contrived a strange sound which +died away on a curious bubbling note and he grew faint. + +Suddenly the one-eyed individual at the rudder screamed aloud, and +disturbed the Leading Gentleman's earnest endeavour to prevent waste. +Not from sensibility did the one-eyed scream, nor on account of his +growing conviction that the Leading Gentleman was getting more than his +share, but because, as all realized upon looking up, a great ship was +bearing down upon them from the West. + +So intent had all been upon the preparation of breakfast that the +steamer was almost audible when seen. + +Good! Here came water, rice, bread, sugar, flour, and perhaps meat, for +poor castaways, and probably money--from kindly lady-passengers, this +last, for the ship was obviously a liner. The wretched Moussa Isa's +carcase was now superfluous--nay dangerous, and must be disposed of at +once, for Europeans are most kittle cattle. They will exterminate your +tribe with machine-guns, gin, small-pox, and still nastier things, but +they are fearfully shocked at a bit of killing on the part of others. +They call it murder. And though they will well-nigh depopulate a country +themselves, they will wax highly indignant if any of the survivors do a +little slaying, even if they kill but a miserable slave, like this +Somali dog. + +Heave him overboard. + +No. Ships carry the "far-eye," the magic instrument that makes the +distant near, that brings things from miles away to within a few yards. +Doubtless telescopes were on them already. Keep in a close group round +the body, smuggle it under the palm-mats and make believe to have been +trying to kindle a fire in an old kerosine-oil tin.... Signals of +distress appeared and Moussa Isa disappeared. The great steamer +approached, slowed down, and came to a standstill beside the boat of the +starving castaways. From her cliff-like side the passengers, crowding +the rails of her many decks, looked down with interest upon a +prehistoric craft in which lay a number of poor emaciated blacks and +Arabs, clad for the most part in scanty cotton rags. These poor +creatures feebly extended skinny hands and feebly raised quavering +voices, as they begged for water and a little rice, only water and a +little rice in the name of Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate. Their +tins, lotahs and goat-skins were filled, bags of rice, bread and flour +were lowered to them; a box of sugar and a packet of biscuit were added; +and a gentle little rain of coins fell as though from Heaven. + +Kodaks clicked, clergymen beamed, ladies said, "How sweetly +picturesque--poor dears"; the Captain murmured, "Damnedest scoundrels +unhung--but can't leave 'em to starve"; the "poor dears" smiled largely +and ate wolfishly; Moussa Isa bled, and the great steamer resumed her +way. + +"Pat" Brighte (she was Cleopatra Diamond Brighte who married Colonel +Dearman of the Gungapur Volunteer Bines) found she had got a splendid +snap-shot when her films were developed at Gungapur. A little later she +got another when the look-out saw, and a boat picked up, a man who was +lying in a little dug-out or _toni_. When able to speak, he told the +_serang_[44] of the lascars that he was the sole survivor of a +bunder-boat which had turned turtle and sunk. He understood nothing but +Hindustani.... Miss Brighte pitied the poor wretch but thought he looked +rather horrid.... + + [44] Native boatswain. + +The hearts of the castaways were filled with contentment as their +stomachs were filled with food, and so busily did they devote themselves +to eating, drinking, and sleeping that they forgot all about Moussa Isa +beneath the palm-mats. + +When they chanced upon him he was just alive, and his wound was closed. +The attitude in which he had been dumped down upon the cargo (the +ostensible and upper strata thereof, consisting of hides and salt, with +a hint of ostrich-feathers, coffee, frankincense and myrrh) had favoured +his chance of recovery, for, thanks to a friendly bundle, his head was +pressed forward to his chest and the lips of the gaping wound in his +throat were shut. + +Moussa Isa was tougher than an Indian chicken. + +Near Aden his proprietors were captured by an officious and +unsympathetic police (Moussa was sent to what he dreamed to be Heaven +and later perceived to be a hospital) and while they went to jail, a +number of bristly-haired Teutonic gentlemen at the Freidrichstrasse, +Arab gentlemen at Muscat, and Afghan gentlemen at Cabul, were made to +exercise the virtue of patience. So the would-be murderers of John Robin +Ross-Ellison Ilderim Dost Mahommed unintentionally saved him from jail, +but never received his acknowledgments.... + +Discharged from the hospital, Moussa became his own master, a gentleman +at large, and, for a time, prospered in the coal-trade. + +He steered a coal-lighter that journeyed between the shore and the +ships. + +One day he received a blow, a curse, and an insult, from the _maccudam_ +or foreman of the gang that worked in the boat which he steered. Neither +blows nor curses were of any particular account to Moussa, but this man +Sulemani, a nondescript creature of no particular race, and only a man +in the sense that he was not a woman nor a quadruped, had called him +"_Hubshi_" Woolly One. Had called Moussa Isa of the Somal a _Hubshi_, as +though he had been a common black nigger. And, of course, it was +intentional, for even this eater of dogs and swine and lizards knew the +great noble, civilized and cultured Somal, Galla, Afar and Abyssinian +people from niggers. Even an English hide-and-head-buying tripper and +_soi-disant_ big-game hunter knew a Zulu from a Hottentot, a Masai from +a Wazarambo, and a Somali from a Nigger! + +The only question was as to _how_ the scoundrel should be killed, for +he was large and strong, and never far from a shovel, crow-bar, +boat-hook or some weapon. Not much hope of being able to fasten on his +throat like a young leopard on a dibatag, kudu or impala buck. + +As Moussa sat behind him at the tiller, he would regard the villain's +neck with interest, his fat neck, just below and behind the big ear. + +If he only had a knife--such as the beauty that once cut his throat--or +even a scrap of iron or of really hard pointed wood, honour could be +satisfied and a stain removed from the scutcheon of Moussa Isa of the +Somal race, insulted. + +One lucky night he got his next scar, the fine one that ornamented his +cheek-bone, and a really serviceable weapon of offence against the +offender Sulemani. + +On this auspicious night, a festive English sailor flung a bottle at +him, in merry sport, as he passed beneath the verandah of the temple of +Venus and Bacchus in which the sailor sprawled. It struck him in the +face, broke against his cheek-bone, and provided him with a new scar and +a serviceable weapon, a dagger, convenient to handle and deadly to slay. +The bottle-neck was a perfect hilt and the long tapering needle-pointed +spire of glass projecting from it was a perfect blade--rightly used, of +course. Only a fool would attempt a heart-stab with such a dagger, as it +would shatter on the ribs, leaving the fool to pay for his folly. But +the neck-stab--for the big blood-vessels--oho! And Moussa Isa licked +his chops just as he had seen the black-maned lion do in his own +fatherland; just as did the lion from whom the fair Sheikh had saved +him. + +Toward the sailor, Moussa felt no resentment for the assault that had +laid him bleeding in the gutter. Had he called him "_Hubshi_" it would +have been a different matter--perhaps very different for the sailor. +Moussa Isa regarded curses, cruelties, blows, wounds, attempts at +murder, as mere natural manifestations of the attitude of their +originators, and part of the inevitable scheme of things. Insults to his +personal and racial Pride were in another category altogether. + +Yes--the bottle must have been thus usefully broken by the hand of the +Supreme Deity himself, prompted by Moussa's own particular and private +_kismet_, to provide Moussa with the means of doing his duty by himself +and his race, in the matter of the dog who had likened a long-haired, +ringletty-haired aquiline-nosed, thin-lipped son of the Somals to a +Woolly One--a black beast of the jungle! + +Our young friend had never heard of the historical glass-bladed daggers +of the _bravos_ of Venice, but he saw at a glance, as he rose to his +feet and stared at the bottle, that he could do his business (and that +of the foreman) with the fortunately--shaped fragment, and eke leave the +point of the weapon in the wound for future complications if the blow +failed of immediate fatal effect. + +He bided his time.... + +One black night Moussa Isa sat on the stern of his barge holding to a +rope beneath the high wall of the side of the P. & O. liner, _Persia_, +in shadow and darkness undispelled by the flickering flare of a brazier +of burning fuel, designed to illuminate the path of panting, sweating, +coal-laden coolies up and down narrow bending planks, laid from the +lighter to the gloomy hole in the ship's side. + +The hot, still air was thick with coal-dust and the harmless necessary +howls of the hundreds of sons of Ham, toiling at high pressure. + +In the centre of a vast, silent circle of mysterious lamp-spangled sea +and shore, and of star-spangled sky, this spot was Inferno, an offence +to the brooding still immensity. + +And suddenly Moussa Isa was dimly conscious of his enemy, of him who had +insulted the great Somal race and Moussa Isa. On the broad edge of the +big barge Sulemani stood, before, and a foot below him, in the darkness, +yelling directions, threats, promises and encouragement to his gang. If +only there had been a moon or light by which he could see to strike! +Suddenly the edge of a beam of yellow light from a port-hole struck upon +Sulemani's neck, illuminating it below and behind his ear. Mrs. "Pat" +Dearman, homeward bound, had just entered her cabin and switched on the +electric light. (When last she passed Aden she had been Miss Cleopatra +Diamond Brighte, bound for Gungapur and the bungalow of her brother.) + +It was Mrs. Pat Dearman's habit to read a portion of the Scriptures +nightly, ere retiring to rest, for she was a Good Woman and considered +the practice to be not only a mark of, but essential to, goodness. + +Doubtless the Powers of Evil smiled sardonically when they noted that +the light which she evoked for her pious exercise lit the hand of Moussa +Isa to murder, providing opportunity. Moussa Isa weighed chances and +considered. He did not want to bungle it and lose his revenge and his +life too. Would he be seen if he struck now? The light fell on the very +spot for the true infallible death-stroke. Should he strike now, here, +in the midst of the yelling mob? + +Rising silently, Moussa drew his dagger of glass from beneath his only +garment, aimed at the patch of light upon the fat neck, and struck. +Sulemani lurched, collapsed, and fell between the lighter and the ship +without an audible sound in that dim pandemonium. + +Even as the "dagger" touched flesh, the light was quenched, Mrs. Pat +Dearman having realized that the stuffy, hot cabin was positively +uninhabitable until the port-hole could be opened, after coaling +operations were completed. + +Moussa Isa reseated himself, grabbed the rope again, and with clear +conscience, duty done, calmly awaited that which might follow. + +Nothing followed. None had seen the deed, consummated in unrelieved +gloom; the light had failed most timely.... + +The next person who mortally affronted Moussa Isa, committing the +unpardonable sin, was a grievously fat, foolish Indian Mohammedan youth +whose father supported four wives, five sons, six daughters and himself +in idleness and an Aden shop. + +It was a remarkably idle and unobtrusive shop and yet money flowed into +it without stint, mysteriously and unostentatiously, the conduits of its +flow being certain modest and retiring Arab visitors in long brown or +white _haiks_, with check cotton head-dresses girt with ropes of +camel-hair, who collogued with the honest tradesman and departed as +silently and unobtrusively as they came.... + +One of them, strangely enough, ejaculated "_Himmel_" and +"_Donnerwetter_" as often as "_Bismillah_" and "_Inshallah_" when he +swore. + +The very fat son of this secretive house in an evil hour one +inauspicious evening took it upon him to revile and abuse his father's +servant, one Moussa Isa, an African boy, as he performed divers domestic +duties in the exiguous "compound" of the dwelling-place and refused to +do the fat youth's behest ere completing them. + +"Haste thee at once to the bazaar, thou dog," screamed the fat youth. + +"Later on," replied Moussa Isa, using the words that express the general +attitude of the East. + +"Now, dog. Now, Hubshi, or I will beat thee." + +"I will kill _you_," replied Moussa Isa, and again bided his time. + +"Hubshi, Hubshi, Hubshi," goaded the misguided fat one. + +His Kismet led the youth, some weeks later, to lay him down and sleep in +the shade of the house upon some broad flagstones. Here Moussa found him +and regretted the loss of his glass-dagger,--last seen in the neck of a +foreman of coal-coolies toppling into the dark void between a barge and +a ship,--but remembered a big heavy stone used to facilitate the scaling +of the compound wall. + +Staggering with it to the spot where the fat youth lay slumbering +peacefully, Moussa Isa, in the sight of all men (who happened to be +looking), dashed it upon his fez-adorned head, and established the +hitherto disputable fact that the fat youth had brains. + +To the Magistrate, Moussa Isa offered neither excuse nor prayer. +Explanation he vouchsafed in the words:-- + +"He called _me_, Moussa Isa of the Somali, a _Hubshi!_" + +Being of tender years and of insignificant stature he was condemned to +flogging and seven years in a Reformatory School. He was too juvenile +for the Aden Jail. The Reformatory School nearest to Aden is at Duri in +India, and thither, in spite of earnest prayers that he might go to hard +labour in Aden Jail like a man and a Somali, was Moussa Isa duly +transported and therein incarcerated. + +At the Duri Reformatory School, Moussa Isa was profoundly miserable, +most unhappy, and deeply depressed by a sense of the very cruellest +injustice. + +For here they simply did not know the difference between a Somal and a +woolly-haired dog of a negro. They honestly did not know that there was +a difference. To them, a clicking Bushman was as a Nubian, an +earth-eating Kattia as a Kabyle, a face-cicatrized, tooth-sharpened +cannibal of the Aruwimi as a Danakil,--a _Hubshi_ as a Somal. They +simply did not know. To them all Africans were _Hubshis_ (just as to an +English M.P. all the three or four hundred millions of Indians are +Bengali babus). They meant no insult; they knew no better. All Africans +were black niggers and every soul in the place, from Brahmin to +Untouchable, looked down upon the African, the Black Man, the Nigger, +the Cannibal, the _Hubshi_, sent from Africa to defile their Reformatory +and destroy their caste. + +Here, the proud self-respecting Moussa, jealous champion of the honour +of his, to him, high and noble race, found himself a god-send to the +Out-castes, the Untouchables, the Depressed Classes, Mangs, Mahars, and +Sudras,--they whose touch, nay the touch of whose very shadow, is +defilement! For, at last, they, too, had some one to look down upon, to +despise, to insult. After being the recipients-of-contempt as naturally +and ordainedly as they were breathers-of-air, they at last could apply a +salve, and pass on to another the utter contempt and loathing which they +themselves received and accepted from the Brahmins and all those of +Caste. They had found one lower than themselves. _Moussa Isa of the +Somali_ was the out-cast of out-casts, the pariah of pariahs, prohibited +from touching the untouchables, one of a class depressed below the +depressed classes--in short a _Hubshi!_ + +Even a broad-nosed, foreheadless, blubber--lipped aborigine from the +hill-jungles objected to his presence! + +In the small, self-contained, self-supporting world of the Reformatory, +it was Moussa Isa against the World. And against the World he stood up. + +It had to learn the difference between a Somali and a _Hubshi_ at any +cost--the cost of Moussa's life included. + +What added to the sorrow of the situation was the realization of how +charming and desirable a retreat the place was in itself,--apart from +its ignorant and stupid inhabitants. + +Expecting a kind of torture-house wherein he would be starved, sweated, +thrashed by brutal _kourbash_-wielding overseers, he found the most +palatial and comfortable of clubs, a place of perfect peace, safety, +and ease, where one was kindly treated by those in authority, +sumptuously fed, luxuriously lodged, and provided with pleasant +occupation, attractive amusements and reasonable leisure. + +He had always heard and believed that the English were mad, and now he +knew it. + +As a punishment for murder he had got a birching that merely tickled +him, and a free ticket to seven years' board, lodging, clothing, +lighting, medical care, instruction and diversion! + +_Wow_! + +Were it not for the presence of the insolent, ignorant, untravelled, +inexperienced, soft-living, lily-livered dogs of inhabitants, the place +was the Earthly Paradise. They were the crocodile in the ointment. + +A young Brahmin, son of a well-paid Government servant, and incarcerated +for forgery and theft, was his most annoying persecutor. He was at great +pains to expectorate and murmur "_Hubshi_" in accents of abhorrent +contempt, whenever Moussa Isa chanced between the wind and his nobility. + +The first time, Moussa replied with pitying magnanimity and all +reasonableness:-- + +"I am not a _Hubshi_, but a Somali, which is quite different--even as a +lion is different from a jackal or a man from an ape". + +To which the Brahmin replied but:-- + +"_Hubshi_," and pointed out that there was danger of Moussa Isa's shadow +touching him, if Moussa were not careful. + +"I must kill you if you call me _Hubshi_, understanding that I am of the +Somals," said Moussa Isa. + +"_Hubshi_," would the Brahmin reply and loudly bewail his evil Luck +which had put him in the power of the accursed Feringhi Government--a +Government that compelled a Brahmin to breathe the same air as a filthy +negro dog, a Woolly One of Africa, barely human and most untouchable, a +living Contamination ... and Moussa cast about for a weapon. + +His first opportunity arose when he found the Brahmin, who was in the +book-binding and compositor department, working one day in the same +gardening-gang with himself. + +He had but a watering-can by way of offensive weapon, but good play can +be made with a big iron watering-can wielded in the right spirit and the +right hand. + +Master Brahmin was feebly tapping the earth with a kind of single-headed +pick, and watching him, Moussa Isa saw that, in a quarter of an hour or +so, he might plausibly and legitimately pass within a yard or two of +this his enemy, as he went to and fro between the water-tap and the +strip of flower-border that he was sprinkling.... Would they hang him if +he killed the Brahmin, or would they feebly flog him again and give him +a longer sentence (that he be supported, fed, lodged, clothed and cared +for) than the present seven years? + +There was no foretelling what the mad English would do. Sometimes they +acquitted a criminal and gave him money and education, and sometimes +they sent him to far distant islands in the South and there housed and +fed him free, for life; and sometimes they killed him at the end of a +rope. + +Doubtless Allah smote the English mad to prevent them from stealing the +whole world.... If they were not mad they would do so and enslave all +other races--except their conquerors, the Dervishes, of course.... It +was like the lying hypocrites to call the Great Mullah "the Mad Mullah" +knowing themselves to be mad, and being afraid of their victorious enemy +who had driven them out of Somaliland to the coast forts.... + +Oh, if they would only treat him, Moussa Isa, as an adult, and send him +to the Aden Jail to hard labour. There folk knew a Somali from a +_Hubshi_; a gentleman of Afar and Galla stock, of Arab blood, Moslem +tenets, and Caucasian descent, from a common nigger, a low black +Ethiopian, an eater of men and insects, a worshipper of idols and +_ju-ju_. + +In Aden, men knew a Somali from a _Hubshi_ as surely as they knew an +Emir from a mere Englishman. + +Here, in benighted, ignorant, savage India, the Dark Continent indeed, +men knew not what a Somali was, likened him to a Negro, ranked him lower +than a Hindu even--called him a _Hubshi_ in insolent ignorance. If only +the beautiful Reformatory were in Berbera, and tenanted by Africans. + +Better Aden Jail a thousand times than Duri Reformatory. + +What a splendid joke if the dog of a Brahmin who persistently insulted +him--even after he had been shown his error and ignorance--should be the +unwitting means of his return to Aden--where a Somali gentleman is +recognized. There is no harm about a Jail as such. Far from it. A jail +is a wise man's paradise provided by fools. You have excellent and +plentiful food, a roof against the sun, unfailing water supply, +clothing, interesting occupation, and safety--protection from your +enemies. No man harries you, you are not chained, you are not tortured; +you have all that heart can desire. Freedom?... What _is_ Freedom? +Freedom to die of thirst in the desert? Freedom to be disembowelled by +the Great Mullah? Freedom to be sold as a slave into Arabia or Persia? +Freedom to be the unfed, unpaid, well-beaten property of gun-runners in +the Gulf, or of Arab _safari_ ruffians and "black-ivory" men? Freedom to +be left to the hyaena when you broke down on the march? Freedom to die +of starvation when you fell sick and could not carry coal? Thanks. + +If the mad English provided beautiful refuges, and made the commission +of certain crimes the requisite qualification for admission, let wise +men qualify. + +Take this Reformatory--where else could a little Somali boy get such +safety, peace, food, and sumptuous luxury; everything the heart could +desire, in return for doing a little gardening? Even a house to himself +as though he were the honoured, favourite son of some chief. + +To Moussa Isa, the dark and dingy cell with its bare stone walls, mud +floor, grated aperture and iron door was a fine safe house; its iron +bed-frame with cotton-rug-covered laths and stony pillow, a piece of +wanton luxury; its shelf, stool and utensils, prideful wealth. If only +the place were in Africa or Aden! Well, Aden Jail would do, and if the +Brahmin's death led to his being sent there as a serious and respectable +murderer, it would be a real case of two enemies on one spear--an insult +avenged and a most desired re-patriation achieved. + +That would be subtilty,--at once washing out the insult in the +Brahmin's blood and getting sent whither his heart turned so constantly +and fondly. They had treated him as a juvenile offender because he was +so small and young, and because the killing of the fat Mussulman was his +first offence, as they supposed. Surely they would recognize that he was +a man when he had killed his second enemy--especially if he told them +about Sulemani. What in the name of Allah did they want, to constitute a +real sound criminal, fit for Aden Jail, if three murders were not +enough? Well, he would go on killing until they did have enough, and +were obliged to send him to Aden Jail. There he would behave beautifully +and kill nobody until they wanted to turn him out to starve. Then, since +murder was the requisite qualification, he would murder to admiration. +He knew they could not send him over the way to the Duri Jail, since he +belonged to Aden, had been convicted there, and only sent to the Duri +Reformatory because Aden boasted no such institution.... + +Yes. The Brahmin's corpse should be the stepping-stone to higher things +and the place where people knew a Somali from a Negro. + +If only he were in the carpentry department with Master Brahmin, where +there were axes, hammers, chisels, knives, saws, and various pointed +instruments. Fancy teaching the young gentleman manners and ethnology +with an axe! However, after one or two more journeys between the tap and +the flower-bed, he would pass within striking-distance of the dog as he +worked his slow way along the tract of earth he was supposed to be +digging up with the silly short-handled pick. + +Should he try and seize the pick and give him one on the temple with it? +No, the Brahmin would scream and struggle and the overseer would be on +Moussa Isa in a single bound. He must strike a sudden blow in the act of +passing. + +A few more journeys to the water-tap.... + +_Now!_ "_Hubshi_," eh? + +Halting beside the crouching Brahmin youth, Moussa Isa swung up the +heavy watering-can by the spout and aimed a blow with all his strength +at the side of his enemy's head. He designed to bring the sharp strong +rim of the base behind the ear with the first blow, on the temple with +the second, and just anywhere thereafter, if time permitted of a +thereafter. + +But the aggravating creature tossed his head as Moussa, with a grunt of +energy, brought the vessel down, and the rim merely struck the top of +the shaven skull. Another--harder. Another--with frenzied strength and +the force of long-suppressed rage and sense of wrong. + +And then Moussa was knocked head over heels and sat upon by the overseer +in charge of the garden-gang, while the Brahmin twitched convulsively on +the ground. He was by no means dead, however, and the sole immediate +results, to Moussa, were penal diet, solitary confinement in his +palatial cell, a severe sentence of corn-grinding with the heavy quern, +and most joyous recollections of the sound of the water-can on the pate +of the foe. + +"I have still to kill you, of course," he whispered to his victim, the +next time they met, and the Brahmin went in terror of his life. He was +a very clever young person and had passed an astounding number of +examinations in the course of his brief career. But he was not +courageous, and his "education" had given him skill in nothing +practical, except in penmanship, which skill he had devoted to forgery. + +"Why did you violently commit this dastardish deed, and assault the +harmless peaceful Brahmin?" asked the Superintendent, a worthy and +voluble babu, and then translated the question into debased Hindustani. + +"He called me _Hubshi_, and I will kill him," replied Moussa. + +"Oho! and you kill everyone who calls you _Hubshi_, do you, Master +African?" + +"I do. I wish to go to Aden Jail for attempting murder. It will be +murder if I am kept here where none knows a man from a dog." + +"Oho! And you would kill even _me_, I suppose, if I called you +_Hubshi_." + +"Of course! I will kill you in any case if I am not sent to Aden Jail." + +The babu decided that it was high time for some other institution to +shelter this touchy and truculent person, and that he would lay the case +before the next weekly Visitor and ask for it to be submitted to the +Committee at their ensuing monthly meeting. + +The Visitor of the week happened to be the Educational Inspector. "Wants +to leave India, does he?" said the Inspector, looking Moussa over as he +heard the statement of the Superintendent. "I admire his taste. India is +a magnificent country to leave." + +The Educational Inspector, a very keen, thoughtful and competent +educationist, was a disappointed man, like so many of his Service. He +felt that he had, for quarter of a century, strenuously woven ropes of +sand. When his liver was particularly sluggish he felt that for quarter +of a century he had worked industriously, not at a useless thing, but at +an evil thing--a terrible belief. + +Moreover, after quarter of a century of faithful labour and strict +economy, he found himself with a load of debt, broken health, and a +cheaply educated family of boys and girls to whom he was a complete +stranger--merely the man who found the money and sent it Home, visiting +them from time to time at intervals of four or five years. India had +killed his wife, and broken him. + +He had had what seemed to him to be bitter experience also. An +individual, notoriously slack and incompetent, ten years his junior, had +been promoted over his head, because he was somebody's cousin and the +kind of fatuous ass that only labours industriously in drawing-rooms and +at functions, recuperating by slacking idly in offices and at duties--a +paltry but paying game much practised by a very small class in India. + +Another individual, by reason of his having come to India two boats +earlier than the Inspector, drew Rs. 500 a month more than he did, this +being the Senior Inspector's Allowance. That he was reported on as lazy, +eccentric, and irregular, made no difference to the fact that he was a +fortnight senior to, and therefore worth Rs. 500 a month more than, the +next man. The recipient regarded the extra trifle (L400 a year) as his +bare right and merest due. The Inspector regarded it as an infamous +piece of injustice and folly that for fifteen years the whole of this +sum should go to a lazy fool because he happened to set sail from +England on a certain date, and not a fortnight later. So he loathed and +detested India where he had had bad luck, bad health and what he +considered bad treatment, and sympathized with the desire of Moussa Isa. + +"Why do you want to go back to Aden?" he inquired in the _lingua franca_ +of the Indian Empire, of Moussa whose heart beat high with hope. + +"Because here, where there are no lions, wolves think a lion is a dog; +here where there are no men, asses think a man is a monkey. I am a +Somal, and these ignorant camels think I am a negro--a filthy Hubshi." + +"And you tried to kill another boy because he called you 'Hubshi,' eh?" + +"I did, Sahib, and I will kill him yet if I be not sent to Aden. If that +fail I will kill myself also." + +"Stout fella," commented the Inspector in his own vernacular, and added, +musing aloud:-- + +"You'll come to the gallows through possessing pride, self-respect and +determination, my lad. You're behind the times--or rather you maintain a +spirit for which Civilization has no use. You must return to the Wilds +of the Earth or else you must be content to become good, grubby, and +grey, dull and dejected, sober and sorrowful, respectable and +unenterprising--like me; and you must cultivate fat, propriety, smugness +and the Dead Level.... What, you young Devil! You'd have self-respect +and pride, would you; be quick upon the point of honour, eh? revive the +duello, what? Get thee to a--er--less civilized and respectable age or +place ... in other words, Mr. Toshiwalla, bring the case before the +Committee of Visitors. I'll put up a note to the effect that he had +better be sent back to Aden. This is a Reformatory, and there's nothing +very reformatory about keeping him to plan murder and suicide because he +has been (quite unjustifiably) transported as well as flogged and +imprisoned. Yes, we'll consider the case. Meanwhile, keep a sharp eye on +him--and give him all the corn-grinding he can do. Sweat the Original +Sin out of him ... and see he does not secrete any kind of weapon." + +Accordingly was Moussa segregated, and to the base women's-work of +corn-grinding in the cook-house, wholly relegated. It was hard, +soul-breaking work, ignoble and degrading, but he drew two crumbs of +comfort from the bread of affliction. He was developing his arm-muscles +and he was literally watering the said bread of affliction with the +sweat of labour. As the heavy drops trickled from chin and nose into the +meal around the grindstone, it pleased Moussa Isa to reflect that his +enemy should eat of it. Since the shadow of Moussa was pollution to +these travesties of men and warriors, let them have a little concrete +pollution also. But in the cook-house, while arm and soul wearied +together, one heavy day of copper sky and brazen earth, first eye and +then foot, fell upon a piece of tin, the lid of some empty milk-tin or +like vessel. The prehensile toes gathered in the trove, the foot gently +rose and the fingers of the pendant left hand secured the disc, while +the body swayed with the strenuous circlings of the right hand chat +revolved the heavy upper millstone. + +That night, immediately after being locked in his cell, that there +might be the fullest time for bleeding to death, he slashed and slashed +while strength lasted at wrist and abdomen--but without succeeding in +penetrating the abdominal wall and reaching the viscera. + +This effected his transfer to the Reformatory hospital and underlined +the remark of the Inspector in the Visitors' Book to the effect that one +Moussa Isa would commit suicide or murder, if kept at Duri, and would +certainly not be "reformed" in any way. In hospital, Major Jackson of +the Royal Army Medical Corps, a Visitor of the Duri Jail, paying his +periodical visits, grew interested in the sturdy bright boy and soon +came to like him for his directness, cheery courage, and refreshing +views. When the boy was convalescent he took him on the surrounding Duri +golf-links as his caddie in his endless games with his poor friend +Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith, _ex_-gentleman. + +Moussa was grateful and, fingering the scar on his throat, likened Major +Jackson to his hero, the fair Sheikh who had saved him from the lion and +had lost his life through intervening on Moussa's behalf in the boat. +But _he_ was not mad like these English. He would not, with infinite +earnestness, seriousness and mingled joy at success and grief at +failure, have pursued a little white ball with a stick, mile after mile, +knocking it with infinite precautions, every now and then, into a little +hole, and taking it out again. + +No, _his_ idea of sport across country with an iron-shod stick would +rather have been lion-hunting with an assegai (yet, curiously enough, +one, Robin Ross-Ellison, lived to play more than one game of golf with +Major Jackson on these same Duri Links). To see this adult white man +behaving so, _coram publico_, made Moussa bitterly ashamed for him. + +And, as the sun set, Moussa Isa earned a sharp rebuke for inattentive +slacking, as he stood sighing his soul to where it sank in the West over +Aden and Somaliland.... Wait till his chance of escape arrived; he would +journey straight for the sunset, day after day, until he reached a +sea-shore. There he would steal a canoe and paddle and paddle straight +for the sunset, day after day, until he reached a sea-shore again. That +would be Africa or Arabia, and Moussa Isa would be where a Somal is +known from a _Hubshi_.... Should he make a bolt for it now? No, too +weak, and not fair to this kind Sahib who had healed him and sympathized +with him in the matter of the ignorance and impudence of those who +misnamed a son of the Somals.... In due course, the Committee of +Visitors met at the Reformatory one morning, and found on the agenda +paper _inter alia_ the case of Moussa Isa, a murderer from Aden, his +attempt at murder and suicide, and his prayer to be sent to Aden Jail. + +On the Committee were the Director of Public Instruction, the Collector, +the Executive Engineer, the Superintendent of Duri Jail, the Educational +Inspector, the Cantonment Magistrate, Major Jackson of the Royal Army +Medical Corps, and a number of Indian gentlemen. To the Chairman's +inquiries Moussa Isa made the usual replies. He had been mortally +affronted and had endeavoured to avenge the insult. He had tried to do +his duty to himself--and to his enemy. He had been put to base +women's-work as a punishment for defending his honour and he had tried +to take his life in despair. Was there _no_ justice in British lands? +What would the Sahib himself do if his honour were assailed? If one rose +up and insulted him and his race? Called him baboon, born of baboons, +for example? Or had the Sahib no honour? Why should he have been +transported when he was not sentenced to transportation? What had he +done but defend his honour and avenge insults? Unless he were now tried +for murder and suicide, and sentenced to hard labour in Aden Jail, he +would go on murdering until they did send him there. If they said, +"Well, you shan't go there, whatever you do," he would kill himself. If +he could get no sort of weapon he would starve himself (he did not in +his ignorance quote the gentle and joyous Pankhurst family) or hold his +breath. So they had better send him, and that was all he had got to say +about it. + +"Send him for trial before the City Magistrate and recommend that he go +to Aden Jail at once, before he hurts somebody else," said the native +members of the Committee. "Why should we be troubled with the +off-scourings of Aden?" + +"Certainly not," opined the Collector of Duri. A pretty state of affairs +if every criminal were to be allowed to select his own place of +punishment, and to terrorize any penitentiary that had the misfortune to +lack favour in his sight. Let the boy be well flogged for the assault +and attempted suicide, and then let him rejoin the ordinary gangs and +classes. It was the Superintendent's duty to watch his charges and keep +discipline in what was, after all, a school. + +"Sir, he is one violent and dangerous character and will assault the +peaceful and mild. Yea--he may even attack _me_," objected the babu. + +"Are we to understand that you admit your inability to maintain order in +this Reformatory?" inquired the Director of Public Instruction from the +Chair. + +Anything but that. They were to understand, on the contrary, that the +babu was respectfully a most unprecedented disciplinarian. + +"You don't expect cock angels in a Reformatory, y' know," said the +engineer, suddenly awaking to light a fat black cheroot. "Got to use +the--ah--strong hand;--on their--ah--_you_ know," and he resumed his +slumbers, puffing mechanically and unconsciously at his cheroot. + +So Moussa Isa was flogged and sent back to gardening, lessons and +drawing. + +Yes--the Somali was taught drawing. Not mere utilitarian drawing-to-scale +and making plans and elevations, but "freehand"-drawing, the reproducing +of meaningless twirly curves and twiddly twists from symmetrical +conventional "copies". He copied copies and drew lines--but never copied +things, nor drew things. In time he could, with infinite labour, produce +a copy of a flat "copy" that a really observant eye could identify with +the original, but had you asked him to draw his foot or the door of the +room, his desk, his watering-can or book, he would probably have +replied, "_They_ are not drawing-copies," and would have laughed at your +absurd joke. No, he was not taught to draw _things_, nor to give +expression to impression. + +And he had a special warder all to himself, who watched him as a cat +watches a mouse. However, warders cannot prevent looks and smiles, and +whenever Moussa Isa saw the Brahmin youth, he gave a peculiar look and a +meaning smile. It was borne in upon the clever young man that the Hubshi +looked at his neck, below his ear, when he smiled that dreadful smile. + +Sometimes a significant gesture accompanied the meaning smile. For +Moussa Isa had decided, upon the rejection of his prayer by the +Committee, to wait until he was a little older and bigger, more like a +proper criminal and less of a wretched little "juvenile offender," and +then to qualify, by murder, for the Aden Jail--with the unoffered help +of the Brahmin boy. + +Allah would vouchsafe opportunity, and when he did so, Moussa Isa, his +servant, would seize it. Doubtless it would come as soon as he was big +enough to receive the privileges of an adult and serious criminal. +Anyhow, the insult would be properly punished and the honour of the +Somal race avenged.... + +Came the day when certain of the sinful inhabitants of the Duri +Reformatory were to be conducted to a neighbouring Government High +School, a centre for the official Drawing Examinations for the district, +there to sit and be examined in the gentle art of Art. + +To this end they had been trained in the copying of lines and in the +painting of areas of conventional shape, not that they might be made to +observe natural form, express themselves in reproduction, render the +inner outer, originate, articulate ... but that they might pass an +examination in copying unnatural things in impossible colours. Thus it +came to pass that, in the big hall of this school, divers of the +Reformed found themselves copying, and colouring the copy of, a curious +picture pinned to a blackboard--the picture of a floral wonder unknown +to Botany, possessed of delicate mauve leaves, blue-veined, shaped some +like the oak-leaf and some like the ivy; of long slender blades like +those of the iris, but of tenderest pink; of beautiful and profusely +chromatic blossoms, reminding one now of the orchid, now of the +sunflower and anon of the forget-me-not; and likewise of clustering +fulgent fruit. + +And at the back of all these budding artists and blossoming jail-birds, +and in the same small desk sat the Brahmin youth and--Oh Merciful +Allah!--Moussa Isa, Somali. + +The native gentleman in charge of the party from the Duri Reformatory +had duly escorted his charges into the hall, handed them over to Mr. +Edward Jones, the Head of the High School, and been requested to wait +outside with similar custodians of parties. (Mr. Edward Jones had known +very strange things to happen in Examination Halls to which the friends +and supporters of candidates had access during the examination.) + +To Mr. Edward Jones the thus deserted Brahmin boy made frantic and +piteous appeal. + +"Oh, Sir," prayed he, "let me sit somewhere else and not beside this +African." + +"You'll stay where you are," replied Mr. Edward Jones, suspicious of the +appeal and the appellant. If the fat glib youth objected to the African +on principle, Mr. Edward Jones would be glad, metaphorically speaking, +to rub his Brahminical nose in it. If this were not his reason, it was, +doubtless, one even less creditable. Mr. Edward Jones had been in India +long enough to learn to look very carefully for the motive. + +Moussa Isa licked his chops once again, and, as Mr. Jones turned away, +the unhappy Brahmin cried in his anguish of soul:-- + +"Oh, Sir! Watch this African carefully." + +"All will be watched carefully," was the suspicious and cold reply. + +Moussa smiled broadly upon his erstwhile contemptuous and insulting +enemy, and began to consider the possibilities of a long and +well-pointed lead-pencil as a means of vengeance. Pencils were intended +for marking fair surfaces--might one not be used on this occasion for +the cleaning of a sullied surface, that of a besmirched honour? + +One insulter of the Somal race had died by the stab of a piece of broken +bottle. Might not another die by the stab of a lead-pencil? + +Doubtful. Very risky. The stabbing and piercing potentialities of a lead +pencil are not yet properly investigated, tabulated, established and +known. It would be a pity to do small damage and incur a heavy +corn-grinding punishment. He might never get another chance of +vengeance either, if he bungled this one. + +Well, there were three hours in which to decide ... and Moussa Isa +commenced to draw, pausing, from time to time, to smile meaningly at the +Brahmin, and to lick his chops suggestively. Anon he rested from his +highly uninteresting and valueless labours, laid his pencil on the desk, +and gazed around in search of inspiration in the matter of the best +method of dealing with his enemy. + +His eye fell upon a picture of a lion that ornamented the wall of the +hall; he stiffened like a pointer and fingered some scars on his right +arm. He had never seen a picture of a lion before and, for a fraction of +a second, he was shocked and alarmed--and then, while his body sat in an +Indian High School hall, his spirit flew to an East African desert, and +there sojourned awhile. + +Moussa Isa was again the slave of an ivory-poaching, hide-poaching, +specimen-poaching, slave-dealing gang of Arabs, Negroes, and Portuguese +half-castes, led by a white man of the Teutonic persuasion. He could +feel the smiting heat, see the scrub, jungle, and sand shimmering and +dancing in the heat haze. He could see the line of porters, bales on +heads, the Arabs on horseback, the white man in a litter swinging from a +long bamboo pole beneath which half a dozen Swahili loped along. He +could see the velvet star-gemmed night and the camp-fires, smell the +smoke and the savoury odours of the cooking, hear the sudden shrieks and +yells that followed the roar of the springing lion, feel the crushing +crunch of its great teeth in his arm as it seized him from beside the +nearest fire and stood over him.... Yes, that was the night when the +fair Sheikh from the North had showed the mettle of his pastures and +bound Moussa Isa to him for ever in the bonds of worshipping gratitude +and love. For, while others shrieked, yelled, fled, flung burning brands +and spears, or fired hasty, unaimed, ineffectual shots, the fair Sheikh +from the North had sprung at the lion as it stood over Moussa Isa and +driven his knife into its eye, and as it smote him to the earth, buried +its fangs in his shoulder and started to drag him away, had stabbed +upward between the ribs, giving it a second death-blow, transfixing its +heart. Thus it was he had earned the name by which he was known from +Zanzibar to Berbera, "He-who-slays-lions-with-the-knife," had earned the +envy and hatred of the fat white man and the Arabs, the boundless +admiration of the Swahili askaris, hunters and porters, and the deep +dog-like affection of Moussa Isa.... + +And then Moussa's spirit returned to his body and he saw but the picture +of a lion on a High School wall. He commenced to draw again and suddenly +had an inspiration. Deliberately he broke the point of his pencil and, +rising, marched up to the dais, whereon, at a table, sat Mr. Edward +Jones. + +Mr. Edward Jones had been shot with bewildering suddenness from +Cambridge quadrangles into the Indian Educational Service. Of India he +knew nothing, of education he knew less, but boldly took it upon him to +combine the two unknowns for the earning of his living. If wise and +beneficent men offered him a modest wage for becoming a professor and +exponent of that which he did not know, he had no objection to accepting +it; but there were people who wondered why it should be that, out of +forty million English people, Mr. Edward Jones should be the chosen one +to represent England to the youth of Duri, and asked whether there were +no keen, strictly conscientious, sporting, strong Englishmen available; +no enthusiastic educational experts left in all the British Isles, that +Mr. Edward Jones of all people had come to Duri? + +"What do you want?" he asked (how he hated these poverty-stricken, +smelly, ignoble creatures. Why was he not a master at Eton, instead of +at Duri High School. Why wouldn't somebody give him a handsome income +for looking handsome and standing around beautifully--like these +aide-de-camp Johnnies and "staff" people. Since there was nothing on +earth he could do well, he ought to have been provided with a job in +which he could look well). + +"May I borrow the Sahib's knife?" asked Moussa Isa, "I have broken my +pencil and cannot draw." Mr. Edward Jones picked up the penknife that +lay on his desk, the cheap article of restricted utility supplied to +Government Offices by the Stationery Department, and handed it to Moussa +Isa. Even as he took it with respectful salaam, Moussa Isa summed up its +possibilities. Blade two inches long, sharp-pointed, handle six inches +long, wooden; not a clasp knife, blade immovable in handle. It would +do--and he turned to go to his seat and presumably to sharpen his +pencil. + +Idly watching the boy and thinking of other things, Jones saw him try +the point of the knife on his thumb, walk up behind the other occupant +of his desk, his Brahmin neighbour, seize that neighbour by the hair, +push his head sharp over on to the shoulder, and plunge the knife into +his neck; seat himself, and commence to draw with the unfortunate +Brahmin's pencil. + +Jones sprang to his feet and rushed to the spot, to find that he had not +been dreaming. No--on the back seat drooped a boy bleeding like a stuck +pig and another industriously drawing, his face illuminated by a smile +of contentment. + +Jones pressed his thumbs into the neck of the sufferer, as he called to +an assistant-supervisor to run to the hospital for Dr. Almeida, hoping +to be able to close the severed jugular from which welled an appalling +stream of blood. + +"It is quite useless, Sahib," observed Moussa, "nor can a doctor help. +When one has got it _there_, he may give his spear to his son and turn +his face to the wall. That dog will never say '_Hubshi_' to a Somal +again." + +"Catch hold of that boy," said Mr. Edward Jones to another +assistant-supervisor who clucked around like a perturbed hen. + +"Fear not, Sahib, I shall not escape. I go to Aden Jail," said Moussa +cheerfully--but he pondered the advisability of attempting escape from +the Reformatory should he be sentenced to be hanged. It had always +seemed an impossibility, but it would be better to attempt the +impossible than to await the rope. But doubtless they would say he was +too small and light to hang satisfactorily, and would send him to Aden. +Thanks, Master Brahmin, realize as you die that you have greatly obliged +your slayer.... + + * * * * * + +"Now you will most certainly be hanged to death by rope and I shall be +rid of troublesome fellow," said the Superintendent to Moussa Isa when +that murderous villain was temporarily handed over to him by the +police-sepoy to whom he had been committed by Mr. Jones. + +"I have avenged my people and myself," replied Moussa Isa, "even as I +said, I go to Aden Jail--where there are _men_, and where a Somal is +known from a Hubshi" + +"You go to hang--across the road there at Duri Gaol," replied the babu, +and earnestly hoped to find himself a true prophet. But though the wish +was father to the thought, the expression thereof was but the wicked +uncle, for it led to the undoing of the wish. So convinced and +convincing did the babu appear to Moussa Isa, that the latter decided to +try his luck in the matter of unauthorized departure from the +Reformatory precincts. If they were going to hang him (for defending and +purging his private and racial honour), and not send him to Aden after +all, he might as well endeavour to go there at his own expense and +independently. If he were caught they could not do more than hang him; +if he were not caught he would get out of this dark ignorant land, if he +had to walk for a year.... + +When he came to devote his mind to the matter of escape, Moussa Isa +found it surprisingly easy. A sudden dash from his cell as the door was +incautiously opened that evening, a bound and scramble into a tree, a +leap to an out-house roof, another scramble, and a drop which would +settle the matter. If something broke he was done, if nothing broke he +was within a few yards of six-foot-high crops which extended to the +confines of the jungle, wherein were neither police, telegraph offices, +railways, roads, nor other apparatus of the enemy. Nothing broke--Duri +Reformatory saw Moussa Isa no more. For a week he travelled only by +night, and thereafter boldly by day, getting lifts in _bylegharies_,[45] +doing odd jobs, living as the crows and jackals live when jobs were +unavailable, receiving many a kindness from other wayfarers, especially +those of the poorer sort, but always faring onward to the West, ever +onward to the setting sun, always to the sea and Africa, until the +wonderful and blessed day when he believed for a moment that he was mad +and that his eyes and brain were playing him tricks.... After months and +months of weary travel, always toward the setting sun, he had arrived +one terrible evening of June at a wide river and a marvellous bridge--a +great bridge hung by mighty chains upon mightier posts which stood up on +either distant bank. It was a _pukka_ road, a Grand Trunk Road suspended +in the air across a river well-nigh great as Father Nile himself. + + [45] Bullock carts. + +On the banks of this river stood an ancient walled city of tall houses +separated by narrow streets, a city of smells and filth, wherein there +were no Sahibs, few Hindus and many Mussulmans. In a mud-floored +miserable _mussafarkhana_,[46] without its gates, Moussa Isa slept, +naked, hungry and very sad--for he somehow seemed to have missed the +sea. Surely if one kept on due westward always to the setting sun, one +reached the sea in time? The time was growing long, however, and he was +among a strange people, few of whom understood the Hindustani he had +learnt at Duri. Luckily they were largely Mussulmans. Should he abandon +the setting sun and take to the river, following it until it reached the +sea? He could take ship then for Africa by creeping aboard in the +darkness, and hiding himself until the ship had started.... There might +be no city at the mouth of the river when he got there. It might never +reach the sea. It might just vanish into some desert like the +Webi-Shebeyli in Somaliland. No, he would keep on toward the West, +crossing the great bridge in the morning. He did so, and turned aside +to admire the railway-station of the Cantonment on the other side of the +river, to get a drink, and to see a train come in, if happily such might +occur. + + [46] Poor travellers' rest-house. + +Ere he had finished rinsing his mouth and bathing his feet at the public +water-standard on the platform, the whistle of a distant train charmed +his ears and he sat him down, delighted, to enjoy the sights and sounds, +the stir and bustle, of its arrival and departure. And so it came about +that certain passengers by this North West Frontier train were not a +little intrigued to notice a small and very black boy suddenly arise +from beside the drinking-fountain and, with a strange hoarse scream, +fling himself at the feet of a young Englishman (who in Norfolk jacket +and white flannel trousers strolled up and down outside the first-class +carriage in which he was travelling to Kot Ghazi from Karachi), and with +every sign of the wildest excitement and joy embrace and kiss his +boots.... + +Moussa Isa was convinced that he had gone mad and that his eyes and +brain were playing him tricks. + +Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison (also Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz +Ullah Khan when in other dress and other places) was likewise more than +a little surprised--and certainly a little moved, at the sight of Moussa +Isa and his wild demonstrations of uncontrollable joy. + +"Well, I'm damned!" said he in the _role_ of Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison. "Rum little devil. Fancy your turning up here." And in the +_role_ of Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan added in +debased Arabic: "Take this money, little dog, and buy thee a _tikkut_ +to Kot Ghazi. Get into this train, and at Kot Ghazi follow me to a +house." + +To the house Moussa Isa followed him and to the end of his life +likewise, visiting _en route_ Mekran Kot, among other places, and +encountering one, Ilderim the Weeper, among other people (as was told to +Major Michael Malet-Marsac by Ross-Ellison's half-brother, the +Subedar-Major.) + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE WOMAN. + +(And Augustus Grabble; General Murger; Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith; +Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green; Mr. Horace Faggit; as well as a +reformed JOHN ROBIN ROSS-ELLISON.) + + + +Sec. 1. MR. GROBBLE. + + +There was something very maidenly about the appearance of Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble. One could not imagine him doing +anything unfashionable, perspiry, rough or rude; nor could one possibly +imagine him doing anything ruthless, fine, terrible, strong or +difficult. + +One expected his hose to be of the same tint as his shirt and +handkerchief, his dress-trousers to be braided, his tie to be delicate +and beautiful, his dainty shoes to be laced with black silk ribbon,--but +one would never expect him to go tiger-shooting, to ride a gay and giddy +young horse, to box, or to do his own cooking and washing in the desert +or jungle. + +Augustus had been at College during that bright brief period of the +attempted apotheosis of the dirty-minded little Decadent whose stock in +trade was a few Aubrey Beardsley drawings, a widow's-cruse-like bottle +of Green Chartreuse, an Oscar Wilde book, some dubious blue china, some +floppy ties, an assortment of second-hand epigrams, scent and scented +tobacco, a _nil admirari_ attitude and long weird hair. + +Augustus had become a Decadent--a silly harmless +conventionally-unconventional Decadent. But, as Carey, a contemporary +Rugger blood, coarsely remarked, he hadn't the innards to go far wrong. + +It was part of his cheap and childish ritual as a Decadent to draw the +curtains after breakfast, light candles, place the flask of Green +Chartreuse and a liqueur-glass on the table, drop one drip of the liquid +into the glass, burn a stinking pastille of incense, place a Birmingham +"god" or an opening lily before him, ruffle his hair, and sprawl on the +sofa with a wicked French novel he could not read--hoping for visitors +and an audience. + +If any fellow dropped in and, very naturally, exclaimed, "What the devil +_are_ you doing?" he would reply:-- + +"Wha'? Oh, sunligh'? Very vulgar thing sunligh'. Art is always superior +to Nature. You love the garish day being a gross Philistine, wha'? Now I +only live at night. Glorious wicked nigh'. So I make my own nigh'. Wha'? +Have some Green Chartreuse--only drink fit for a Hedonist. I drink its +colour and I taste its glorious greenness. Ichor and Nectar of Helicon +and the Pierian Spring. I loved a Wooman once, with eyes of just that +glowing glorious green and a soul of ruby red. I called her my +Emerald-eyed, Ruby-souled Devil, and we drank together deep draughts of +the red red Wine of Life----" + +Sometimes the visitor would say: "Look here, Grobb, you ought to be in +the Zoo, you know. There's a lot there like you, all in one big cage," +or similar words of disapproval. + +Sometimes a young fresher would be impressed, especially if he had been +brought up by Aunts in a Vicarage, and would also become a Decadent. + +During vac. the Decadents would sometimes meet in Town, and See Life--a +singularly uninteresting and unattractive side of Life (much more like +Death), and the better men among them--better because of a little +sincerity and pluck--would achieve a petty and rather sordid "adventure" +perhaps. + +Augustus had no head for Mathematics and no gift for Languages, while +his Classics had always been a trifle more than shaky. History bored +him--so he read Moral Philosophy. + +There is a somewhat dull market for second-hand and third-class Moral +Philosophy in England, so Augustus took his to India. In the first +college that he adorned his classes rapidly dwindled to nothing, and the +College Board dispensed with the services of Augustus, who passed on to +another College in another Province, leaving behind him an odour of +moral dirtiness, debt, and decadence. Quite genuine decadence this time, +with nothing picturesque about it, involving doctors' bills, alimony, +and other the fine crops of wild-oat sowing. + +At Gungapur he determined to "settle down," to "turn over a new leaf," +and laid a good space of paving-stone upon his road to reward. + +He gave up the morning nip, docked the number of cocktails, went to bed +before two, took a little gentle exercise, met Mrs. Pat Dearman--and +(like Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison, General Miltiades Murger and many another) +succumbed at once. + +Mrs. Pat Dearman had come to India (as Miss Cleopatra Diamond Brighte) +to see her brother, Dickie Honor Brighte, at Gungapur, and much +interested to see, also, a Mr. Dearman whom, in his letters to her, +Dickie had described as "a jolly old buster, simply full of money, and +fairly spoiling for a wife to help him blew it in." She had not only +seen him but had, as she wrote to acidulous Auntie Priscilla at the +Vicarage, "actually married him after a week's acquaintance--fancy!--the +last thing in the world she had ever supposed ... etc." (Auntie +Priscilla had smiled in her peculiarly unpleasant way as the artless +letter enlarged upon the strangeness of her ingenuous niece's marrying +the rich man about whom her innocent-minded brother had written so +much.) + +Having thoroughly enjoyed a most expensive and lavish honeymoon, Mrs. +Pat Dearman had settled down to make her good husband happy, to have a +good time and to do any amount of Good to other people--especially to +young men--who have so many temptations, are so thoughtless, and who +easily become the prey of such dreadful people and such dreadful habits. + +Now it is to be borne in mind that Mrs. Dearman's Good Time was marred +to some extent by her unreasoning dislike of all Indians, a dislike +which grew into a loathing hatred, born and bred of her ignorance of the +language, customs, beliefs and ideals of the people among whom she +lived, and from whom her husband's great wealth sprang. + +To Augustus--fresh from very gilded gold, painted lilies and highly +perfumed violets--she seemed a vision of delight, a blessed damozel, a +living Salvation. + +_"Incedit dea aperta,"_ he murmured to himself, and wondered whether he +had got the quotation right. Being a weak young gentleman, he +straightway yearned to lead a Beautiful Life so as to be worthy to live +in the same world with her, and did it--for a little while. He became a +teetotaller, he went to bed at ten and rose at five--going forth into +the innocent pure morning and hugging his new Goodness to his soul as he +composed odes and sonnets to Mrs. Pat Dearman. So far so excellent--but +in Augustus was no depth of earth, and speedily he withered away. And +his reformation was a house built upon sand, for, even at its pinnacle, +it was compatible with the practising of sweet and pure expressions +before the glass, the giving of much time to the discovery of the really +most successful location of the parting in his long hair, the +intentional entangling of his fingers with those of the plump and pretty +young lady (very brunette) in Rightaway & Mademore's, what time she +handed him "ties to match his eyes," as he requested. + +It was really only a change of pose. The attitude now was: "I, young as +you behold me, am old and weary of sin. I have Passed through the Fires. +Give me beauty and give me peace. I have done with the World and its +Dead Sea Fruit. There is no God but Beauty, and Woman is its Prophet." +And he improved in appearance, grew thinner, shook off a veritable Old +Man of the Sea in the shape of a persistent pimple which went ill with +the Higher Aestheticism, and achieved great things in delicate socks, +sweet shirts, dream ties, a thumb ring and really pretty shoes. + +In the presence of Mrs. Pat Dearman he looked sad, smouldering, +despairing and Fighting-against-his-Lower-Self, when not looking +Young-but-Hopelessly-Depraved-though-Yearning-for-Better-Things. And he +flung out quick epigrams, sighed heavily, talked brilliantly and wildly, +and then suppressed a groan. Sometimes the pose of, "Dear Lady, I could +kiss the hem of your garment for taking an interest in me and my +past--but it is too lurid for me to speak of it, or for you to +understand it if I did," would appear for a moment, and sometimes that +of, "Oh, help me--or my soul must drown. Ah, leave me not. If I have +sinned I have suffered, and in your hands lie my Heaven and my Hell." +Such shocking words were never uttered of course--but there are few +things more real than an atmosphere, and Augustus Clarence could always +get his atmosphere all right. + +And Mrs. Pat Dearman (who had come almost straight from a vicarage, a +vicar papa and a vicarish aunt, to an elderly, uxorious husband and +untrammelled freedom, and knew as much of the World as a little bunny +rabbit whom its mother has not brought yet out into the warren for its +first season), was mightily intrigued. + +She felt motherly to the poor boy at first, being only two years his +junior; then sisterly; and, later, very friendly indeed. + +Let it be clearly understood that Mrs. Pat Dearman was a thoroughly +good, pure-minded woman, incapable of deceiving her husband, and both +innocent and ignorant to a remarkable degree. She was the product of an +unnatural, specialized atmosphere of moral supermanity, the secluded +life, and the careful suppression of healthy, natural instincts. In +justice to Augustus Clarence also it must be stated that the impulse to +decency, though transient, was genuine as far as it went, and that he +would as soon have thought of cutting his long beautiful hair as of +thinking evil in connection with Mrs. Pat Dearman. + +Yes, Mrs. Pat Dearman was mightily intrigued--and quickly came to the +conclusion that it was her plain and bounden duty to "save" the poor, +dear boy--though from _what_ she was not quite clear. He was evidently +unhappy and obviously striving-to-be-Good--and he had such beautiful +eyes, dressed so tastefully, and looked at one with such a respectful +devotion and regard, that, really--well, it added a tremendous savour to +life. Also he should be protected from the horrid flirting Mrs. Bickker +who simply lived to collect scalps. + +And so the friendship grew and ripened--quickly as is possible only in +India. The evil-minded talked evil and saw harm where none existed, +proclaiming themselves for what they were, and injuring none but +themselves. (Sad to say, these were women, with one or two exceptions in +favour of men--like the Hatter--who perhaps might be called "old women +of the male sex," save that the expression is a vile libel upon the sex +that still contains the best of us.) Decent people expressed the belief +that it would do Augustus a lot of good--much-needed good; and the +crystallized male opinion was that the poisonous little beast was +uncommon lucky, but Mrs. Pat Dearman would find him out sooner or later. + +As for Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman, that lovable simple soul was grateful +to Augustus for existing--as long as his existence gave Mrs. Dearman any +pleasure. If the redemption of Augustus interested her, let Augustus be +redeemed. He believed that the world neither held, nor had held, his +wife's equal in character and nobility of mind. He worshipped an image +of his own creation in the shape of Cleopatra Dearman, and the image he +had conceived was a credit to the single-minded, simple-hearted +gentleman. + +Naturally he did not admire Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble +(learned in millinery; competent, as modes varied, to discuss harem, +hobble, pannier, directoire, slit, or lamp-shade skirts, berthes, +butterfly-_motif_ embroideries, rucked ninon sleeves, chiffon tunics, +and similar mysteries of the latest fashion-plates, with a lady +undecided). + +Long-haired men put Dearman off, and he could not connect the virile +virtues with large bows, velvet coats, scent, manicure, mannerisms and +meandering. + +But if Augustus gave his wife any pleasure--why Augustus had not lived +wholly in vain. His attitude to Augustus was much that of his attitude +to his wife's chocolates, fondants, and crystallized violets--"Not +absolutely nourishing and beneficial for you, Dearest;--but harmless, +and I'll bring you a ton with pleasure". + +Personally he'd as soon go about with his wife's fat French poodle as +with Augustus, but so long as either amused her--let the queer things +flourish. + +Among the nasty-minded old women who "talked" was the Mad Hatter. + +"Shameful thing the way that Dearman woman throws dust in her husband's +eyes!" said he, while sipping his third Elsie May at the club bar. "He +should divorce her. I would, to-morrow, if I were burdened with her." + +A knee took him in the small of the back with unnecessary violence and +he spun round to demand instant apology from the clumsy.... + +He found himself face to face with one John Robin Ross-Ellison newly +come to Gungapur, a gentleman of independent means but supposed to be +connected with the Political Department or the Secret Service or +something, who stared him in the eyes without speaking while he poised a +long drink as though wondering whether it were worth while wasting good +liquor on the face of such a thing as the Hatter. + +"You'll come with me and clear the dust from Dearman's eyes at once," +said he at last. "Made your will all right?" + +The Hatter publicly apologised, then and there, and explained that he +had, for once in his life, taken a third drink and didn't know what he +was saying. + +"If your third drink brings out the real man, I should recommend you to +stick to two, Bonnett," said the young man, and went away to cogitate. + +Should he speak to Dearman? No. He didn't want to see so good a chap +hanged for a thing like the Bonnett. Should he go and slap Augustus +Grobble hard and make him leave the station somehow? No. Sure to be a +scandal. You can no more stop a scandal than a locust-cloud or a fog. +The best way to increase it is to notice it. What a horrid thing is a +scandal-monger--exhaling poison. It publishes the fact that it is +poisonous, of course--but the gas is not enjoyable. + +Well, God help anybody Dearman might happen to hear on the subject! +Happily Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman heard nothing, for he was a quiet, +slow, jolly, red-haired man, and the wrath of a slow, quiet, red-haired +man, once roused, is apt to be a rather dangerous thing. Also Mr. +Dearman was singularly elephantine in the blundering crushing directness +of his methods, and his idea of enough might well seem more than a feast +to some. + +And Mr. Dearman suffered Augustus gladly, usually finding him present at +tea, frequently at dinner, and invariably in attendance at dances and +functions. + +Augustus was happy and Good--for Augustus. He dallied, he adored, he +basked. For a time he felt how much better, finer, more enjoyable, more +beautiful, was this life of innocent communion with a pure soul--pure, +if just a little insipid, after the real spankers he had hitherto +affected. + +He was being saved from himself, reformed, helped, and all the rest of +it. And when privileged to bring her pen, her fan, her book, her +cushion, he always kissed the object with an appearance of wishing to be +unseen in the act. It was a splendid change from the Lurid Life and the +mean adventure. Piquant. + +Unstable as water he could not excel nor endure, however, even in +dalliance; nor persevere even when adopted as the _fidus Achates_ of a +good and beautiful woman--the poor little weather-cock. He was +essentially weak, and weakness is worse than wickedness. There is hope +for the strong bad man. He may become a strong good one. Your weak man +can never be that. + +There came a lady to the Great Eastern Hotel where Augustus lived. Her +husband's name, curiously enough, was Harris, and wags referred to him +as _the_ Mr. Harris, because he had never been seen--and like Betsey +Prig, they "didn't believe there was no sich person". And beyond doubt +she was a spanker. + +Augustus would sit and eye her at meals--and his face would grow a +little less attractive. He would think of her while he took tea with +Mrs. and Mr. Dearman, assuring himself that she was certainly a stepper, +a stunner, and, very probably,--thrilling thought--a wrong 'un. + +Without the very slightest difficulty he obtained an introduction and, +shortly afterwards, decided that he was a man of the world, a Decadent, +a wise Hedonist who took the sweets of every day and hoped for more +to-morrow. + +Who but a fool or a silly greenhorn lets slip the chances of enjoyment, +and loses opportunities of experiences? There was nothing in the world, +they said, to compare with War and Love. Those who wanted it were +welcome to the fighting part, he would be content with the loving role. +He would be a Dog and go on breaking hearts and collecting trophies. +What a milk-and-water young ass he had been, hanging about round good, +silly, little Mrs. Dearman, denying himself champagne at dinner-parties, +earning opprobrium as a teetotaller, going to bed early like a +bread-and-butter flapper, and generally losing all the joys of Life! +Been behaving like a _backfisch_. He read his Swinburne again, and +unearthed from the bottom of a trunk some books that dealt with the +decadent's joys,--poets of the Flesh, and prosers of the Devil, in his +many weary forms. + +Also he redoubled his protestations (of undying, hopeless, respectful +devotion and regard) to Mrs. Dearman, until she, being a woman, +therefore suspected something and became uneasy. + +One afternoon he failed to put in an appearance at tea-time, though +expected. He wrote that he had had a headache. Perhaps it was true, but, +if so, it had been borne in the boudoir of the fair spanker whose +husband may or may not have been named Harris. + +As his absences from the society of Mrs. Dearman increased in frequency, +his protestations of undying gratitude and regard for her increased in +fervour. + +Mrs. Dearman grew more uneasy and a little unhappy. + +Could she be losing her influence for Good over the poor weak boy? Could +it be--horrible thought--that he was falling into the hands of some +nasty woman who would flirt with him, let him smoke too many cigarettes, +drink cocktails, and sit up late? Was he going to relapse and slip back +into that state of wickedness of some kind, that she vaguely understood +him to have been guilty of in the unhappy past when he had possessed no +guardian angel to keep his life pure, happy and sweet, as he now +declared it to be? + +"Where's your young friend got to lately?" inquired her husband one day. + +"I don't know, John," she replied, "he's always missing appointments +nowadays," and there was a pathetic droop about the childish mouth. + +"Haven't quarrelled with him, or anything, have you, Pat?" + +"No, John dear. It would break his heart if I were unkind to him--or it +would have used to. I mean it used to have would. Oh, you know what I +mean. Once it would have. No, I have not been unkind to him--it's rather +the other way about, I think!" + +_Rather the other way about_! The little affected pimp unkind to Mrs. +Dearman! Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman made no remark--aloud. + +Augustus came to tea next day and his hostess made much of him. His host +eyed him queerly. Very. + +Augustus felt uncomfortable. Good Heavens! Was Dearman jealous? The man +was not going to cut up jealous at this time of day, surely! Not after +giving him the run of the house for months, and allowing him to take his +wife everywhere--nay, encouraging him in every way. Absurd idea! + +Beastly disturbing idea though--Dearman jealous, and on your track! A +rather direct and uncompromising person, red-haired too. But the man was +absolutely fair and just, and he'd never do such a thing as to let a +fellow be his wife's great pal, treat him as one of the family for ages, +and then suddenly round on him as though he were up to something. No. +Especially when he was, if anything, cooling off a bit. + +"He was always most cordial--such a kind chap,--when I was living in his +wife's pocket almost," reflected Augustus, "and he wouldn't go and turn +jealous just when the thing was slacking off a bit." + +But there was no doubt that Dearman was eyeing him queerly.... + +"Shall we go on the river to-morrow night, Gussie?" said Mrs. Dearman, +"or have a round of golf, or what?" + +"Let's see how we feel to-morrow," replied Augustus, who had other +schemes in view. "Sufficient unto the day is the joy thereof," and he +escorted Mrs. Dearman to the Gymkhana, found her some nice, ladies' +pictorials, said, "I'll be back in a minute or two,"--and went in search +of Mrs. "Harris". + +"Well," said that lady, "been a good little boy and eaten your bread and +butter nicely? Have a Lyddite cocktail to take the taste away. So will +I." ... + +"Don't forget to book the big punt," said the Siren an hour or so later. +"I'll be ready for you about five." + +Augustus wrote one of his charming little notes on his charming little +note-paper that evening. + +"KIND AND GRACIOUS LADYE, + +"Pity me. Pity and love me. To-morrow the sun will not shine for your +slave, for he will not see it. I am unable to come over in the evening. +I stand 'twixt love and duty, and know you would counsel duty. Would the +College and all its works were beneath the ocean wave! Think of me just +once and I shall survive till the day after. Oh, that I could think your +disappointment were but one thousandth part of mine. I live but for +Thursday. + +"Ever your most devoted loving slave, + +"GUSSIE." + +Mrs. Dearman wept one small tear, for she had doubted his manner when he +had evaded making the appointment, and was suspicious. Mr. Dearman +entered and noted the one small tear ere it trickled off her dainty +little nose. + +She showed him the note. + +Mr. (or Colonel) Dearman thought much. What he said was "Hm!" + +"I suppose he has got to invigilate at some horrid examination or +something," she said, but she did not really suppose anything of the +kind. Even to her husband she could not admit the growing dreadful fear +that the brand she had plucked from the burning was slipping from her +hand--falling back into the flames. + +At a dinner-party that night a woman whom she hated, and wrote down an +evil-minded scandal-monger and inventor and disseminator of lies, +suddenly said to her, "Who _is_ this Mrs. Harris, my dear?" + +"How should I know?" replied Mrs. Dearman. + +"Oh, I thought your young friend Mr. Grobble might have told you--he +seems to know her very well," answered the woman sweetly. + +That night Mr. Dearman heard his wife sobbing in bed. Going to her he +asked what was the matter, and produced eau-de-Cologne, phenacetin, +smelling-salts and sympathy. + +She said that nothing at all was the matter and he went away and +pondered. Next day he asked her if he could row her on the river as he +wanted some exercise, and Augustus was not available to take her for a +drive or anything. + +"I should love it, John dear," she said. "You row like an ox," and John, +who had been reckoned an uncommon useful stroke, felt that a compliment +was intended if not quite materialized. + +Mrs. Pat Dearman enjoyed the upstream trip, and, watching her husband +drive the heavy boat against wind and current with graceful ease, +contrasted him with the puny, if charming, Augustus--to the latter's +detriment. He was so safe, so sound, so strong, reliable and true. But +then he never needed any protection, care and help. It was impossible to +"mother" John. He loved her devotedly and beautifully but one couldn't +pretend he leaned on her for moral help. Now Augustus did need her or he +had done so--and she did so love to be needed. _Had_ done so? No--she +would put the thought away. He needed her as much as ever and loved her +as devotedly and honourably.... The boat was turned back at the weir +and, half an hour later, reached the Club wharf. + +"I want to go straight home without changing, Pat; do you mind? I'll +drop you at the Gymkhana if you don't want to get home so early," said +Dearman, as he helped his wife out. + +"Won't you change and have a drink first, John?" she replied. "You must +be thirsty." + +"No. I want to go along now, if you don't mind." + +He did want to--badly. For, rowing up, he had seen something which his +wife, facing the other way, could not see. + +Under an over-hanging bush was a punt, and in the punt were Augustus and +the lady known as Mrs. Harris. + +The bush met the bank at the side toward his wife, but at the other +side, facing Dearman, there was an open space and so he had seen and she +had not. Returning, he had drawn her attention to something on the +opposite bank. This had been unnecessary, however, as Augustus had +effected a change of venue without delay. And now he did not want his +wife to witness the return of the couple and learn of the duplicity of +her snatched Brand. + +(He'd "brand" him anon!) + + * * * * * + +Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble sat in the long cane chair in +his sitting-room, a glass beside him, a cigarette between his lips, a +fleshly poet in his hand, and a reminiscent smile upon his flushed face. + +She undoubtedly was a spanker. Knew precisely how many beans make five. +A woman of the world, that. Been about. Knew things. Sort of woman one +could tell a good story to--and get one back. Life! Life! Knew it up and +down, in and out. Damn reformation, teetotality, the earnest, and the +strenuous. Good women were unmitigated bores, and he.... A sharp knock +at the door. + +"_Kon hai_?"[47] he called. "_Under ao_."[48] + + [47] Who's there. + [48] Come in. + +The door opened and large Mr. Dearman walked in. He bore a nasty-looking +malacca cane in his hand--somewhat ostentatiously. + +"Hullo, Dearman!" said Augustus after a decidedly startled and anxious +look. "What is it? Sit down. I'm just back from College. Have a drink?" + +Large Mr. Dearman considered these things _seriatim_. + +"I will sit down as I want a talk with you. You are a liar in the matter +of just being back from College. I will not have a drink." He then +lapsed into silence and looked at Augustus very straight and very +queerly, while bending the nasty malacca suggestively. The knees of +Augustus smote together. + +Good God! It had come at last! The thrashing he had so often earned was +at hand. What should he do? What _should_ he do! + +Dearman thought the young man was about to faint. + +"Fine malacca that, isn't it?" he asked. + +"Ye-yes!" + +"Swishy, supple, tough." + +"Ye-yes!" (How could the brute be such a fool as to be jealous now--now +when it was all cooling off and coming to an end?) + +"Grand stick to thrash a naughty boy with, what?" + +"Ye-yes!--Dearman, I swear before God that there is nothing between me +and----" + +"Shut up, you infernal God-forsaken cub, or I shall have to whip you. +I----" + +"Dearman, if you are jealous of me----" + +"Better be quiet and listen, or _I_ shall get cross, and _you'll_ get +hurt.... You have given us the pleasure of a great deal of your company +this year, and I have come to ask you----" + +"Dearman, I have not been so much lately, and I--" + +"That's what I complain of, my young friend." + +"What?" + +"That's what I complain of! I have come to protest against your making +yourself almost necessary to me, in a sense, and then--er--deserting me, +in a sense." + +"You are mocking me, Dearman. If you wish to take advantage of my being +half your size and strength to assault me, you----" + +"Not a bit of it, my dear Augustus. I am in most deadly earnest, as +you'll find if you are contumacious when I make my little proposition. +What I say is this. _I_ have grown to take an interest in you, Augustus. +_I_ have been very kind to you and tried to make a better man of you. +_I_ have been a sort of mother to you, and you have sworn devotion and +gratitude to me. _I_ have reformed you somewhat, and you have admitted +to me that I have made another man of you, Augustus, and that you love +me for it, you love _me_ with a deep Platonic love, my Augustus, +and--don't you forget it." + +"I admit that your wife----" + +"Don't you mention my wife, Augustus, or you and I and that malacca will +have a period of great activity. I was saying that _I_ am disappointed +in you, Augustus, and truly grieved to find you so shallow and false. I +asked you to take me on the river to-night and you lied to me and took a +very different type of--er--person. Such meanness and ingratitude fairly +get me, Augustus. Now I never _asked_ you to run after me and come and +swear I had saved your dirty little soul alive, but since you did it, +Augustus, and _I_ have come to take a deep interest in saving the +thing--why, you've got to stick it, Augustus--and if you don't--why, +then I'll make you, my dear." + +"Dearman, your wife has been the noblest friend----" + +"_Will_ you come off it, Augustus? I don't want to be cruel. Now look +here. _I_ have got accustomed to having you about the house and +employing you in those funny little ways in which you are a useful +little animal. I am under no delusion as to the value of that Soul of +yours--but, such as it is, _I_ am determined to save it. So just you +bring it round to tea to-morrow, as usual; and don't you ever be absent +again without my permission. You began the game and I'll end it--when I +think fit. Grand malacca that." + +"Dearman, I will always----" + +"'Course you will. See you at tea to-morrow, Gussie. If ever my wife +hears of this I'll kill you painfully. Bye-Bye." + +Augustus was present at tea next day, and, thenceforth, so regular was +he that Mrs. Dearman found, first, that she had been very foolish in +thinking that her Brand was slipping back into the fire and, later, that +Gussie was a bore and a nuisance. + +One day he said in the presence of John:-- + +"I can't keep that golf engagement on Saturday, dear lady, I have to +attend a meeting of the Professors, Principal and College Board". + +"Have you seen my malacca cane, Pat," said Dearman. "I want it." + +"But I really have!" said Augustus, springing up. + +"Of course you have," replied Dearman. "What _do_ you mean?" + + * * * * * + +"John dear," remarked Mrs. Dearman one day, "I wish you could give +Gussie a hint not to come quite so often. I have given him some very +broad ones during the last few months, but he won't take them. He would +from you, I expect." + +"Tired of the little bounder, Pat?" + +"Oh, sick and tired. He bores me to tears. I wish he were in Government +Service and could be transferred. A Government man's always transferred +as soon as he has settled to his job. I can't forbid him the house, very +well, but I _wish_ he'd realize how weary I am of his poses and new +socks." + + * * * * * + +Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble sat in the long cane chair in +his sitting-room, a look of rebellious discontent upon his face. What +could he do? Better chuck his job and clear out! The strain was getting +awful. What a relentless, watchful brute Dearman was! To him entered +that gentleman after gently tapping at the chamber door. + +"Gussie," said he, "I have come to say that I think you weary me. I +don't want you to come and play with me any more. _But_ be a nice good +boy and do me credit. I have brought you this malacca as a present and a +memento. I have another, Gussie, and am going to watch you, so be a real +credit to me." + +And Gussie was. + +So once again a good woman redeemed a bad man--but a trifle indirectly +perhaps. + +Then came General Miltiades Murger and Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison to be +saved. + +During intervals in the salvation process, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison +vainly endeavoured to induce Mr. Augustus Clarence Percy Marmaduke +Grobble to lend his countenance, as well as the rest of his person, to +the European Company of the Gungapur Fusilier Volunteer Corps which it +was the earnest ambition of Ross-Ellison to raise and train and +consolidate into a real and genuine defence organization, with a +maxim-gun, a motor-cycle and car section, and a mounted troop, and with, +above all, a living and sturdy _esprit-de-corps_. Such a Company +appeared to him to be the one and only hope of regeneration for the +ludicrous corps which Colonel Dearman commanded, and to change the +metaphor, the sole possible means of leavening the lump by its example +of high standards and high achievement. + +To Augustus, however, as to many other Englishmen, the idea was merely +ridiculous and its parent simply absurd. + +The day dawned when Augustus, like the said many other Englishmen, +changed his mind. In his, and their defence, it may be urged that they +knew nothing of the activities of a very retiring but persevering +gentleman, known to his familiars as Ilderim the Weeper, and that they +had grown up in the belief that all England's fighting and defence can +be done by a few underpaid, unconsidered, and very vulgar hirelings. + +Perish the thought that Augustus and his like should ever be expected to +do the dirty work of defending themselves, their wives, children, homes +and honour. + + + + +Sec. 2. GENERAL MURGER. + + +In a temporary Grand Stand of matchboarding and canvas _tout Gungapur_ +greeted Mrs. Pat Dearman, who was quite At Home, ranged itself, and +critically inspected the horses, or the frocks, of its friends, +according to its sex. + +Around the great ring on to which the Grand Stand looked, Arab, Pathan, +and other heathen raged furiously together and imagined many vain +things. Among them unobtrusively moved a Somali who listened carefully +to conversations, noted speakers, and appeared to be collecting +impressions as to the state of public opinion--and of private opinion. +Particularly he sought opportunities of hearing reference to the +whereabouts and doings of one Ilderim the Weeper. In the ring were a +course of stiff jumps, lesser rings, the judges' office, a kind of +watch-tower from which a strenuous fiend with a megaphone bawled things +that no living soul could understand, and a number of most +horsily-arrayed gentlemen, whose individual status varied from General +and cavalry-colonel to rough rider, troop sergeant-major and stud groom. + +I regret to add that there was also a Lady, that she was garbed for +riding in the style affected by mere man, and that she swaggered +loud-voiced, horsey, slapping a boot. + +Let men thank the good God for womanly women while such be--and +appreciate them. + +Behind the Grand Stand were massed the motor-cars and carriages of +Society, as well as the Steward of the Gungapur Club, who there spent a +busy afternoon in eating ices and drinking Cup while his myrmidons +hurried around, washed glasses, squeezed lemons, boiled water and +dropped things. Anon he drank ices and ate Cup (with a spoon) and was +taken deviously back to his little bungalow behind the Club by the Head +Bootlaire Saheb (or butler) who loved and admired him. + +Beyond the big ring ran the river, full with the summer rains, giving a +false appearance of doing much to cool the air and render the afternoon +suitable to the stiff collars and "Europe" garments of the once sterner +sex. + +A glorious sea-breeze did what the river pretended to do. Beneath the +shade of a clump of palms, scores of more and less valuable horses +stamped, tossed heads, whisked tails and possibly wondered why God made +flies, while an equal number of _syces_ squatted, smoked pungent +_bidis_, and told lies. + +Outside a tent, near by, sat a pimply youth at a table bearing boxes of +be-ribboned labels, number-inscribed, official, levelling. + +These numbers corresponded with those attached to the names of the +horses in the programme of events, and riders must tie one round each +arm ere bringing a horse up for judgment when called on. + +Certain wretched carping critics alleged that this arrangement was to +prevent the possibility of error on the part of the Judges, who, +otherwise, would never know whether a horse belonged to a General or a +Subaltern, to a Member of Council or an Assistant Collector, to a Head +of a Department or a wretched underling--in short to a personage or a +person. + +You find this type of doubter everywhere--and especially in India where +official rank is but the guinea stamp and gold is brass without it. + +Great, in the Grand Stand, was General Miltiades Murger. Beside Mrs. +Dearman, most charming of hostesses, he sate, in the stage of avuncular +affection, and told her that if the Judges knew their business his +hunter would win the Hunter-Class first prize and be "Best Horse in the +Show" too. + +As to his charger, his hack, his trapper, his suitable-for-polo ponies, +his carriage-horses he did not worry; they might or might not "do +something," but his big and beautiful hunter--well, he hoped the Judges +knew their business, that was all. + +"Are you going to show him in the ring yourself, General?" asked Mrs. +Dearman. + +"And leave your side?" replied the great man in manner most avuncular +and with little reassuring pats upon the lady's hand. "No, indeed. I am +going to remain with you and watch Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh ride him +for me. Finest horseman in India. Good as myself. Yes, I _hope_ the +Judges for Class XIX know their business. I imported that horse from +Home and he cost me over six thousand rupees." + +Meanwhile, it may be mentioned, evil passions surged in the soul of Mr. +John Robin Ross-Ellison as he watched the General, and witnessed his +avuncular pattings and confidential whisperings. Mr. Ross-Ellison had +lunched with the Dearmans, had brought Mrs. Dearman to the Horse Show, +and was settling down, after she had welcomed her guests, to a +delightful, entrancing, and thrillful afternoon with her--to be broken +but while he showed his horse--when he had been early and utterly routed +by the General. The heart of Mr. Ross-Ellison was sore within him, for +he loved Mrs. Dearman very devotedly and respectfully. + +He was always devotedly in love with some one, and she was always a nice +good woman. + +When she, or he, left the station, his heart died within him, life was +hollow, and his mouth filled with Dead Sea fruit. The world he loved so +much would turn to dust and ashes at his touch. After a week or so his +heart would resurrect, life would become solid, and his mouth filled +with merry song. He would fall in love afresh and the world went very +well then. + +At present he loved Mrs. Dearman--and hated General Miltiades Murger, +who had sent him for a programme and taken his seat beside Mrs. Dearman. +There was none on the other side of her--Mr. Ross-Ellison had seen to +that--and his prudent foresight had turned and rent him, for he could +not plant a chair in the narrow gangway. + +He wandered disconsolately away and instinctively sought the object of +the one permanent and unwavering love of his life--his mare "Zuleika," +late of Balkh. + +Zuleika was more remarkable for excellences of physique than for those +of mind and character. To one who knew her not, she was a wild beast, +fitter for a cage in a Zoo than for human use, a wild-eyed, screaming +man-eating she-devil; and none knew her save Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison, who had bought her unborn. (He knew her parents.) + +"If you see an ugly old cove with no hair and a blue nose come over here +for his number, just kick his foremost button, _hard_," said Mr. +Ross-Ellison to her as he gathered up the reins and, dodging a kick, +prepared to mount. This was wrong of him, for Zuleika had never suffered +any harm at the hands of General Miltiades Murger, "'eavy-sterned +amateur old men" he quoted in a vicious grumble. + +A wild gallop round the race-course did something to soothe the ruffled +spirit of Mr. Ross-Ellison and nothing to improve Zuleika's +appearance--just before she entered the show-ring. + +On returning, Mr. Ross-Ellison met the Notable Nut (Lieutenant Nottinger +Nutt, an ornament of the Royal Horse Artillery), and they talked evil of +Dignitaries and Institutions amounting to high treason if not blasphemy, +while watching the class in progress, with young but gloomy eyes. + +"I don't care what _any_body says," observed the Notable Nut. "You read +the lists of prize-winners of all the bally horse-shows ever held here +and you'll find 'em all in strict and decorous order of owner's rank. +'Chargers. First Prize--_Lieutenant-General_ White's "Pink Eye". Second +Prize--_Brigadier-General_ Black's "Red Neck". Third Prize--_Colonel_ +Brown's "Ham Bone". Highly commended--_Major_ Green's "Prairie Oyster". +Nowhere at all--_Second-Lieutenant_ Blue's "Cocktail,"'--and worth all +the rest put together. I tell you I've seen horse after horse change +hands after winning a First Prize as a General's property and then win +nothing at all as a common Officer's or junior civilian's, until bought +again by a Big Pot. Then it sweeps the board. I don't for one second +dream of accusing Judges of favouritism or impropriety any kind, but I'm +convinced that the glory of a brass-bound owner casts a halo about his +horse that dazzles and blinds the average rough-rider, stud-groom and +cavalry-sergeant, and don't improve the eyesight of some of their +betters, when judging." + +"You're right, Nutty," agreed Mr. Ross-Ellison. "Look at that horse +'Runaway'. Last year it won the First Prize as a light-weight hunter, +First Prize as a hack, and Highly Commended as a charger--disqualified +from a prize on account of having no mane. It then belonged to a Colonel +of Dragoons. This year, with a mane and in, if possible, better +condition, against practically the same horses, it wins nothing at all. +This year it belongs to a junior in the P.W.D. one notices." + +"Just what I say," acquiesced the aggrieved Nut, whose rejected horse +had been beaten by another which it had itself beaten (under different +ownership) the previous year. "Fact is, the judges should be absolutely +ignorant as to who owns the horses. They mean well enough, but to them +it stands to reason that the most exalted Pots own the most exalted +horses. Besides, is it fair to ask a troop sergeant-major to order his +own Colonel's horse out of the ring, or the General's either? They ought +not to get subordinates in at all. Army Veterinary Colonels from other +Divisions are the sort of chaps you want, and some really knowledgeable +unofficial civilians--and, as I say, to be in complete ignorance as to +ownership. No man to ride his own horse--and none of these bally numbers +to prevent the Judges from thinking a General's horse belongs to a +common man, and from getting the notion that a subaltern's horse belongs +to a General." + +"Yes" mused Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and another thing. If you want to get a +horse a win or a place in the Ladies' Hack class--get a pretty girl to +ride it. They go by the riders' faces and figures entirely.... Hullo! +Class XIX wanted. That's me and Zuleika. Come and tie the labels on my +arms like a good dog." + +"Right O. But you haven't the ghost of a little look in," opined the +Nut. "Old Murger has got a real corking English hunter in. A General +will win as usual--but he'll win with by far the best horse, for once in +the history of horse-shows." + +Dismounting and handing their reins to the syces, the two young +gentlemen strolled over to the table where presided he of the pimples +and number-labels. + +A burly Sikh was pointing to the name of General Miltiades Murger and +asking for the number printed thereagainst. + +The youth handed Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh two labels each bearing the +number 99. These, the gallant Native Officer proceeded to tie upon his +arms--putting them upside down, as is the custom of the native of India +when dealing with anything in any wise reversible. + +Mr. Ross-Ellison approached the table, showed his name on the programme +and asked for his number--66. + +"Tie these on," said he returning to his friend. "By Jove--there's old +Murger's horse," he added--"what a magnificent animal!" + +Looking up, the Nut saw Rissaldar-Major Shere Singh mounting the +beautiful English hunter--and also saw that he bore the number 66. +Therefore the labels handed to him were obviously 99, and as 99 he tied +on the 66 of Mr. Ross-Ellison--who observed the fact. + +"I am afraid I'm all Pathan at this moment," silently remarked he unto +his soul, and smiled an ugly smile. + +"Not much good my entering Zuleika against _that_ mare," he said aloud. +"It must have cost just about ten times what I paid for her. Never mind +though! We'll show up--for the credit of civilians," and he rode into +the ring--where a score of horses solemnly walked round and round the +Judges and in front of the Grand Stand.... + +General Murger brought Mrs. Dearman a cup of tea, and, having placed his +_topi_[49] in his chair, went, for a brandy-and-soda and cheroot, to the +bar behind the rows of seats. + + [49] Sun-helmet. + +On his return he beheld his superb and expensive hunter behaving +superbly and expensively in the expert hands of Rissaldar-Major Shere +Singh. + +He feasted his eyes upon it. + +Suddenly a voice, a voice he disliked intensely, the voice of Mr. +Dearman croaked fiendishly in his ear: "Why, General, they've got your +horse numbered wrongly!" + +General Miltiades Murger looked again. Upon the arm of Rissaldar-Major +Shere Singh was the number 66. + +Opening his programme with trembling fingers he found his name, his +horse's name, and number 99! + +He rose to his feet, stammering and gesticulating. As he did so the +words:-- + +"Take out number 66," were distinctly borne to the ears of the serried +ranks of the fashionable in the Grand Stand. Certain military-looking +persons at the back abandoned all dignity and fell upon each other's +necks, poured great libations, danced, called upon their gods, or fell +prostrate upon settees. + +Others, seated among the ladies, looked into their bats as though in +church. + +"Has Ross-Ellison faked it?" ran from mouth to mouth, and, "He'll be +hung for this". + +A minute or so later the Secretary approached the Grand Stand and +announced in stentorian tones: + +"First Prize--General Murger's _Darling_, Number 99". + +While behind him upon Zuleika, chosen of the Judges, sat and smiled Mr. +John Robin Ross-Ellison, who lifted his voice and said: +"Thanks--No!--This horse is _mine_ and is named _Zuleika_." He looked +rather un-English, rather cunning, cruel and unpleasant--quite different +somehow, from his ordinary cheery, bright English self. + + * * * * * + +"Old" Brigadier General Miltiades Murger was unique among British +Generals in that he sometimes resorted to alcoholic stimulants beyond +reasonable necessity and had a roving and a lifting eye for a pretty +woman. In one sense the General had never taken a wife--and, in another, +he had taken several. Indeed it was said of him by jealous colleagues +that the hottest actions in which he had ever been engaged were actions +for divorce or breach of promise, and that this type of imminent deadly +breach was the kind with which he was best acquainted. Also that he was +better at storming the citadel of a woman's heart than at storming +anything else. + +No eminent man is without jealous detractors. + +As to the stimulants, make no mistake and jump to no hasty conclusions. +General Murger had never been seen drunk in the whole of his +distinguished and famous (or as the aforesaid colleagues called it, +egregious and notorious) career. + +On the other hand, the voice of jealousy said he had never been seen +sober either. In the words of envy, hatred, malice and all +uncharitableness it declared that he had been born fuddled, had lived +fuddled, and would die fuddled. And there were ugly stories. + +Also some funny ones--one of which concerns the, Gungapur Fusilier +Volunteer Corps and Colonel Dearman, their beloved but shortly retiring +(and, as some said, their worthy) Commandant. + +Mr. Dearman was a very wealthy (and therefore popular), very red haired +and very patriotic mill-owner who tried very hard to be proud of his +Corps, and, without trying, was immensely proud of his wife. + +As to the Corps--well, it may at least be said that it would have +followed its beloved Commandant anywhere (that was neither far nor +dangerous), for every one of its Officers, except Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison, and the bulk of its men, were his employees. + +They loved him for his wealth and they trusted him absolutely--trusted +him not to march them far nor work them much. And they were justified of +their faith. + +Several of the Officers were almost English--though Greeks and +Goa-Portuguese predominated, and there was undeniably a drop or two of +English blood in the ranks, well diffused of course. Some folk said that +even Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison was not as Scotch as his name. + +On guest-nights in the Annual Camp of Exercise (when the Officers' Mess +did itself as well as any Mess in India--and only took a few hundred +rupees of the Government Grant for the purpose) Colonel Dearman would +look upon the wine when it was bubbly, see his Corps through its golden +haze, and wax so optimistic, so enthusiastic, so rash, as roundly to +state that if he had five hundred of the Gungapur Fusiliers, with +magazines charged and bayonets fixed, behind a stout entrenchment or in +a fortified building, he would stake his life on their facing any +unarmed city mob you could bring against them. But these were but +post-prandial vapourings, and Colonel Dearman never talked nor thought +any such folly when the Corps was present to the eye of flesh. + +On parade he saw it for what it was--a mob of knock-kneed, sniffling +lads with just enough strength to suck a cigarette; anaemic clerks, fat +cooks, and loafers with just enough wind to last a furlong march; huge +beery old mechanics and ex-"Tommies," forced into this coloured galley +as a condition of their "job at the works "; and the non-native scum of +the city of Gungapur--which joined for the sake of the ammunition-boots +and khaki suit. + +There was not one Englishman who was a genuine volunteer and not half a +dozen Parsis. Englishmen prefer to join a corps which consists of +Englishmen or at least has an English Company. When they have no +opportunity of so doing, it is a little unfair to class them with the +lazy, unpatriotic, degenerate young gentlemen who have the opportunity +and do not seize it. Captain Ross-Ellison was doing his utmost to +provide the opportunity--with disheartening results. + +However--Colonel Dearman tried very hard to be proud of his Corps and +never forgave anyone who spoke slightingly of it. + +As to his wife, there was, as stated, no necessity for any "trying". He +was immensely and justly proud of her as one of the prettiest, most +accomplished, and most attractive women in the Bendras Presidency. + +Mrs. "Pat" Dearman, _nee_ Cleopatra Diamond Brighte, was, as has been +said, consciously and most obviously a Good Woman. Brought up by a +country rector and his vilely virtuous sister, her girlhood had been a +struggle to combine her two ambitions, that of being a Good Woman with +that of having a Good Time. In the village of Bishop's Overley the +former had been easier; in India the latter. But even in India, where +the Good Time was of the very best, she forgot not the other ambition, +went to church with unfailing regularity, read a portion of the +Scriptures daily; headed subscription lists for the myriad hospitals, +schools, widows'-homes, work-houses, Christian associations, churches, +charitable societies, shelters, orphanages, rescue-homes and other +deserving causes that appeal to the European in India; did her duty by +Colonel Dearman, and showed him daily by a hundred little bright +kindnesses that she had not married him for his great wealth but for +his--er--his--er--not exactly his beauty or cleverness or youthful +gaiety or learning or ability--no, for his Goodness, of course, and +because she loved him--loved him for the said Goodness, no doubt. No, +she never forgot the lessons of the Rectory, that it is the Whole Duty +of Man to Save his or her Soul, but remembered to be a Good Woman while +having the Good Time. Perhaps the most industriously pursued of all her +goodnesses was her unflagging zealous labour in Saving the Souls of +Others as well as her own Soul--the "Others" being the young, +presentable, gay, and well-placed men of Gungapur Society. + +Yes, Mrs. Pat Dearman went beyond the Rectory teachings and was not +content with personal salvation. A Good Woman of broad altruistic +charity, there was not a young Civilian, not a Subaltern, not a +handsome, interesting, smart, well-to-do, well-in-society, young +bachelor in whose spiritual welfare she did not take the deepest +personal interest. And, perhaps, of all such eligible souls in Gungapur, +the one whose Salvation she most deeply desired to work out (after she +wearied of the posings and posturings of Augustus Grobble) was that of +Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison of her husband's corps--an exceedingly +handsome, interesting, smart, well-to-do, well-in-society young +bachelor. The owner of this eligible Soul forebore to tell Mrs. Pat +Dearman that it was bespoke for Mohammed the Prophet of Allah--inasmuch +as _almost_ the most entrancing, thrilling and delightful pursuit of his +life was the pursuit of soul-treatment at the hands, the beautiful tiny +white hands, of Mrs. Pat Dearman. Had her large soulful eyes penetrated +this subterfuge, he would have jettisoned Mohammed forthwith, since, to +him, the soul-treatment was of infinitely more interest and value than +the soul, and, moreover, strange as it may seem, this Mussulman English +gentleman had received real and true Christian teaching at his mother's +knee. When Mrs. Pat Dearman took him to Church, as she frequently did, +on Sunday evenings, he was filled with great longings--and with a +conviction of the eternal Truth and Beauty of Christianity and the +essential nobility of its gentle, unselfish, lofty teachings. He would +think of his mother, of some splendid men and women he had known, +especially missionaries, medical and other, at Bannu and Poona and +elsewhere, and feel that he was really a Christian at heart; and then +again in Khost and Mekran Kot, when carrying his life in his hand, +across the border, in equal danger from the bullet of the Border Police, +Guides, or Frontier Force cavalry-outposts and from the bullet of +criminal tribesmen, when a devil in his soul surged up screaming for +blood and fire and slaughter; during the long stealthy crawl as he +stalked the stalker; during the wild, yelling, knife-brandishing rush; +as he pressed the steady trigger or guided the slashing, stabbing Khyber +knife, or as he instinctively _hallaled_ the victim of his _shikar_, he +knew he was a Pathan and a Mussulman as were his fathers. + +But whether circumstances brought his English blood to the surface or +his Pathan blood, whether the day were one of his most English days or +one of his most Pathan days, whether it were a day of mingled and +quickly alternating Englishry and Pathanity he now loved and supported +Britain and the British Empire for Mrs. Dearman's sake. Often as he +(like most other non-officials) had occasion to detest and desire to +kick the Imperial Englishman, championship of England and her Empire +was now his creed. And as there was probably not another England-lover +in all India who had his knowledge of under-currents, and forces within +and without, he was perhaps the most anxiously loving of all her lovers, +and the most appalled at the criminal carelessness, blind ignorance, +fatuous conceit, and folly of a proportion of her sons in India. + +Knowing what he knew of Teutonic intrigue and influence in India, +Ceylon, Afghanistan, Aden, Persia, Egypt, East Africa, the Straits +Settlements, and China, he was reminded of the men and women of Pompeii +who ate, drank, and were merry, danced and sang, pursued pleasure and +the nimble denarius, while Vesuvius rumbled. + +Constantly the comparison entered his mind. + +He had sojourned with Indian "students" in India, England, Germany, +Geneva, America and Japan, and had belonged to the most secret of +societies. He had himself been a well-paid agent of Germany in both Asia +and Africa; and he had been instrumental in supplying thousands of +rifles to Border raiders, Persian bandits, and other potential troublers +of the _pax Britannica_. He now lived half his double life in Indian +dress and moved on many planes; and to many places where even he could +not penetrate unsuspected, his staunch and devoted slave, Moussa Isa, +went observant. And all that he learnt and knew, within and without the +confines of Ind, _by itself_ disturbed him, as an England-lover, not at +all. Taken in conjunction with the probabilities of a great European War +it disturbed him mightily. As mightily as unselfishly. To him the +dripping weapon, the blazing roof, the shrieking woman, the mangled +corpse were but incidents, the unavoidable, unobjectionable concomitants +of the Great Game, the game he most loved (and played upon every +possible occasion)--War. + +While, with one half of his soul, John Robin Ross-Ellison might fear +internal disruption, mutiny, rebellion and civil war for what it might +bring to the woman he loved, with the other half of his soul, Mir +Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan dwelt upon the joys of +battle, of campaigning, the bivouac, the rattle of rifle-fire, the +charge, the circumventing and slaying of the enemy, as he circumvents +that he may slay. Thus, it was with no selfish thought, no personal +dread, that he grew, as said, mightily disturbed at what he knew of +India whenever he saw signs of the extra imminence of the Great European +Armageddon that looms upon the horizon, now near, now nearer still, now +less near, but inevitably there, plain to the eyes of all observant, +informed and thoughtful men.[50] + + [50] Written in 1912.--AUTHOR. + +What really astounded and appalled him was the mental attitude, the +mental condition, of British "statesmen," who (while a mighty and +ever-growing neighbour, openly, methodically, implacably prepared for +the war that was to win her place in the sun) laboured to reap votes by +sowing class-hatred and devoted to national "insurance" moneys sorely +needed to insure national _existence_. + +To him it was as though hens cackled of introducing +time-and-labour-saving incubators while the fox pressed against the +unfastened door, smiling to think that their cackle smothered all other +sounds ere they reached them or the watch-dog. + +Yes--while England was at peace, all was well with India; but let +England find herself at war, fighting for her very existence ... and +India might, in certain parts, be an uncomfortable place for any but the +strong man armed, as soon as the British troops were withdrawn--as they, +sooner or later, most certainly would be. Then, feared Captain John +Robin Ross-Ellison of the Gungapur Fusiliers, the British Flag would, +for a terrible breathless period of stress and horror, fly, assailed but +triumphant, wherever existed a staunch well-handled Volunteer Corps, and +would flutter down into smoke, flames, ruin and blood, where there did +not. He was convinced that, for a period, the lives of English women, +children and men; English prosperity, prestige, law and order; English +rule and supremacy, would in some parts of India depend for a time upon +the Volunteers of India. At times he was persuaded that the very +continuance of the British Empire might depend upon the Volunteers of +India. If, during some Black Week (or Black Month or Year) of England's +death-struggle with her great rival she lost India (defenceless India, +denuded of British troops), she would lose her Empire,--be the result of +her European war what it might. And knowing all that he knew, he feared +for England, he feared for India, he feared for the Empire. Also he +determined that, so far as it lay in the power of one war-trained man, +the flag should be kept flying in Gungapur when the Great European +Armageddon commenced, and should fly over a centre, and a shelter, for +Mrs. Dearman, and for all who were loyal and true. + +That would be a work worthy of the English blood of him and of the +Pathan blood too. God! he would show some of these devious, +subterranean, cowardly swine what war _is_, if they brought war to +Gungapur in the hour of India's danger and need, the hour of England and +the Empire's danger and need. + +And Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison (and still more Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan), obsessed with the belief that a +different and more terrible 1857 would dawn with the first big reverse +in England's final war with her systematic, slow, sure, and certain +rival, her deliberate, scientific, implacable rival, gave all his +thoughts, abilities and time to the enthralling, engrossing game of +Getting Ready. + +Perfecting his local system of secret information, hearing and seeing +all that he could with his own Pathan ears and eyes, and adding to his +knowledge by means of those of the Somali slave, he also learnt, at +first hand, what certain men were saying in Cabul and on the Border--and +what those men say in those places is worth knowing by the meteorologist +of world-politics. The pulse of the heart of Europe can be felt very far +from that heart, and as is the wrist to the pulse-feeling doctor, is +Afghanistan and the Border to the head of India's Political Department; +as is the doctor's sensitive thumb to the doctor's brain, is the tried, +trusted and approven agent of the Secret Service to the Head of all the +Politicals.... What chiefly troubled Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison of +the Gungapur Fusiliers was the shocking condition of those same +Fusiliers and the blind smug apathy, the fatuous contentment, the short +memories and shorter sight, of the British Pompeians who were perfectly +willing that the condition of the said Fusiliers should remain so. + +Clearly the first step towards a decently reliable and efficient corps +in Gungapur was the abolition of the present one, and, with unformulated +intentions towards its abolition, Mr. Ross-Ellison, by the kind +influence of Mrs. Dearman, joined as a Second Lieutenant and speedily +rose to the rank of Captain and the command of a Company. A year's +indefatigable work convinced him that he might as well endeavour to +fashion sword-blades from leaden pipes as to make a fighting unit of his +gang of essentially cowardly, peaceful, unreliable, feeble nondescripts. +That their bodies were contemptible he would have regarded as merely +deplorable, but there was no spirit, no soul, no tradition--nothing upon +which he could work. "Broken-down tapsters and serving-men" indeed, in +Cromwell's bitter words, and to be replaced by "men of a spirit". + +They must go--and make way for men--if indeed _men_ could be found, men +who realized that even an Englishman owes something to the community +when he goes abroad, in spite of his having grown up in a land where +honourable and manly National Service is not, and those who keep him +safe are cheap hirelings, cheaply held.... + +On the arrival of General Miltiades Murger he sat at his feet as soon +as, and whenever, possible; only to discover that he was not only +uninterested in, but obviously contemptuous of, volunteers and +volunteering. When, at the Dearmans' dinner-table, he endeavoured to +talk with the General on the subject he was profoundly discouraged, and +on his asking what was to happen when the white troops went home and +the Indian troops went to the Border, or even to Europe, as soon as +England's inevitable and final war broke out, he was also profoundly +snubbed. + +When, after that dinner, General Miltiades Murger made love to Mrs. +Dearman on the verandah, he also made an enemy, a bitter, cruel, and +vindictive enemy of Mr. Ross-Ellison (or rather of Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan). + +Nor did his subsequent victory at the Horse Show lessen the enmity, +inasmuch as Mrs. Dearman (whom Ross-Ellison loved with the respectful +platonic devotion of an English gentleman and the fierce intensity of a +Pathan) took General Miltiades Murger at his own valuation, when that +hero described himself and his career to her by the hour. For the +General had succumbed at a glance, and confided to his Brigade-Major +that Mrs. Dearman was a dooced fine woman and the Brigade-Major might +say that he said so, damme. + +As the General's infatuation increased he told everybody else +also--everybody except Colonel Dearman--who, of course, knew it already. + +He even told Jobler, his soldier-servant, promoted butler, as that +sympathetic and admiring functionary endeavoured to induce him to go to +bed without his uniform. + +At last he told Mrs. Dearman herself, as he saw her in the rosy light +that emanated from the fine old Madeira that fittingly capped a noble +luncheon given by him in her honour. + +He also told her that he loved her as a father--and she besought him not +to be absurd. Later he loved her as an uncle, later still as a cousin, +later yet as a brother, and then as a man. + +She had laughed deprecatingly at the paternal affection, doubtfully at +the avuncular, nervously at the cousinly, angrily at the brotherly,--and +not at all at the manly. + +In fact--as the declaration of manly love had been accompanied by an +endeavour to salute what the General had called her damask-cheek--she +had slapped the General's own cheek a resounding blow.... + +"Called you 'Mrs. Darlingwoman,' did he!" roared Mr. Dearman upon being +informed of the episode. "Wished to salute your damask cheek, did he! +The boozy old villain! Damask cheek! _Damned_ cheek! Where's my +dog-whip?" ... but Mrs. Dearman had soothed and restrained her lord for +the time being, and prevented him from insulting and assaulting the +"aged roue"--who was years younger, in point of fact, than the +clean-living Mr. Dearman himself. + +But he had shut his door to the unrepentant and unashamed General, had +cut him in the Club, had returned a rudely curt answer to an invitation +to dinner, and had generally shown the offender that he trod on +dangerous ground when poaching on the preserves of Mr. Dearman. Whereat +the General fumed. + +Also the General swore that he would cut the comb of this insolent +money-grubbing civilian. + +Further, he intimated his desire to inspect the Gungapur Fusiliers "on +Saturday next". + +Not the great and terrible Annual Inspection, of course, but a +preliminary canter in that direction. + +Doubtless, the new General desired to arrive at a just estimate of the +value of this unit of his Command, and to allot to it the place for +which it was best fitted in the scheme of local defence and things +military at Gungapur. + +Perhaps he desired to teach the presumptuous upstart, Dearman, a little +lesson.... + +The Brigade Major's demy-official letter, bearing the intimation of the +impending visitation--fell as a bolt from the blue and smote the Colonel +of the Gungapur Fusiliers a blow that turned his heart to water and +loosened the tendons of his knees. + +The very slack Adjutant was at home on leave; the Sergeant-Major was +absolutely new to the Corps; the Sergeant-Instructor was alcoholic and +ill; and there was not a company officer, except the admirable Captain +John Robin Ross-Ellison, competent to drill a company as a separate +unit, much less to command one in a battalion. And Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison was away on an alleged _shikar_-trip across the distant +Border. Colonel Dearman knew his battalion-drill. He also knew his +Gungapur Fusiliers and what they did when they received the orders of +those feared and detested evolutions. They walked about, each man a law +unto himself, or stood fast until pushed in the desired direction by +blasphemous drill-corporals. + +Nor could any excuse be found wherewith to evade the General. It was +near the end of the drill-season, the Corps was up to its full strength, +all the Officers were in the station--except Captain Ross-Ellison and +the Adjutant. And the Adjutant's absence could not be made a just cause +and impediment why the visit of the General should not be paid, for +Colonel Dearman had with some difficulty, procured the appointment of +one of his Managers as acting-adjutant. + +To do so he had been moved to describe the man as an "exceedingly smart +and keen Officer," and to state that the Corps would in no way suffer by +this temporary change from a military to a civilian adjutant, from a +professional to an amateur. + +Perhaps the Colonel was right--it would have taken more than that to +make the Gungapur Fusiliers "suffer". + +And all had gone exceeding well up to the moment of the receipt of this +terrible demi-official, for the Acting-Adjutant had signed papers when +and where the Sergeant-Major told him, and had saluted the Colonel +respectfully every Saturday evening at five, as he came on parade, and +suggested that the Corps should form fours and march round and round the +parade ground, prior to attempting one or two simple movements--as +usual. + +No. It would have to be--unless, of course, the General had a stroke +before Saturday, or was smitten with _delirium tremens_ in time. For it +was an article of faith with Colonel Dearman since the disgraceful +episode--that a "stroke" hung suspended by the thinnest of threads above +the head of the "aged roue" and that, moreover, he trembled on the verge +of a terrible abyss of alcoholic diseases--a belief strengthened by the +blue face, boiled eye, congested veins and shaking hand of the breaker +of hearts. And Colonel Dearman knew that he must not announce the awful +fact until the Corps was actually present--or few men and fewer Officers +would find it possible to be on parade on that occasion. + +Saturday evening came, and with it some five hundred men and +Officers--the latter as a body, much whiter-faced than usual, on receipt +of the appalling news. + +"Thank God I have nothing to do but sit around on my horse," murmured +Major Pinto. + +"Don't return thanks yet," snapped Colonel Dearman. "You'll very likely +have to drill the battalion"--and the Major went as white as his natural +disadvantages permitted. + +Bitterly did Captain Trebizondi regret his constant insistence upon the +fact that he was senior Captain--for he was given command of "A" +Company, the post of honour and danger in front of all, and was implored +to "pull it through" and not to stand staring like an owl when the +Colonel said the battalion would advance; or turn to the left when he +shouted "In succession advance in fours from the right of Companies". + +And in the orderly-room was much hurried consulting of Captain +Ross-Ellison's well-trained subaltern and of drill-books; and a babel of +such questions as: "I say, what the devil do I do if I'm commanding +Number Two and he says 'Deploy outwards'? Go to the right or left?" + +More than one gallant officer was seen scribbling for dear life upon his +shirt-cuff, while others, to the common danger, endeavoured to practise +the complicated sword-brandishment which is consequent upon the order +"Fall out the Officers". + +Colonel Dearman appealed to his brothers-in-arms to stand by him nobly +in his travail, but was evidently troubled by the fear that some of them +would stand by him when they ought to march by him. Captain +Petropaulovski, the acting-adjutant, endeavoured to moisten his parched +lips with a dry tongue and sat down whenever opportunity offered. + +Captain Euxino Spoophitophiles was seen to tear a page from a red manual +devoted to instruction in the art of drill and to secrete it as one +"palms" a card--if one is given to the palming of cards. Captain +Schloggenboschenheimer was heard to promise a substantial _trink-geld_, +_pour-boire_, or vot-you-call-tip to Sergeant-Instructor Progg in the +event of the latter official remaining mit him and prompting him mit +der-vord-to-say ven it was necessary for him der-ting-to-do. + +Too late, Captain Da Costa bethought him of telephoning to his wife (to +telephone back to himself imploring him to return at once as she was +parlous ill and sinking fast), for even as he stepped quietly toward the +telephone-closet the Sergeant-Major bustled in with a salute and the +fatal words:-- + +"'Ere's the General, Sir!" + +"For God's sake get on parade and play the man this day," cried Colonel +Dearman, as he hurried out to meet the General, scoring his right boot +with his left spur and tripping over his sword _en route_. + + * * * * * + +The General greeted the Colonel as a total stranger, addressed him as +"Colonel," and said he anticipated great pleasure from this his first +visit to the well-known Gungapur Fusiliers. He did, and he got it. + +Dismounting slowly and heavily from his horse (almost as though "by +numbers") the General, followed by his smart and dapper Brigade-Major +and the perspiring Colonel Dearman, strode with clank of steel and +creak of leather, through the Headquarters building and emerged upon the +parade-ground where steadfast stood seven companies of the Gungapur +Fusilier Volunteers in quarter column--more or less at "attention". + +"'Shun!" bawled Colonel Dearman, and those who were "at ease" 'shunned, +and those who were already 'shunning took their ease. + +"'_Shun_!" again roared the Colonel, and those who were now in that +military position relinquished it--while those who were not, assumed it +in their own good time. + +As the trio drew nigh unto the leading company, Captain Trebizondi, +coyly lurking behind its rear rank, shrilly screamed, "'A' Gompany! +Royal Salutes! Present Arrrrms!" while a volunteer, late a private of +the Loyal Whitechapel Regiment, and now an unwilling member of this +corps of auxiliary troops, audibly ejaculated through one corner of his +mobile mouth:-- + +"Don't you do nothink o' the sort!" and added a brief orison in +prejudice of his eyesight. + +Certain of "A's" stalwarts obeyed their Captain, while others took the +advice of the volunteer--who was known to have been a man of war in the +lurid past, and to understand these matters. + +Lieutenant Toddywallah tugged valiantly at his sword for a space, but +finding that weapon coy and unwilling to leave its sheath, he raised his +helmet gracefully and respectfully to the General. His manner was always +polished. + +"What the devil are they doing?" inquired the General. + +"B," "C," "D," "E," "F," and "G" Companies breathed hard and protruded +their stomachs, while Sergeant-Instructor Progg deserved well of Captain +Schloggenboschenheimer by sharply tugging his tunic-tail as he was in +the act of roaring:-- + +"_Gomm_--!" the first syllable of the word "Company," with a view to +bestowing a royal salute likewise. Instead, the Captain extended the +hand of friendship to the General as he approached. The look of _nil +admirari_ boredom slowly faded from the face of the smart and dapper +Brigade-Major, and for a while it displayed quite human emotions. + +Up and down and between the ranks strode the trio, the General making +instructive and interesting comments from time to time, such as:-- + +"Are your buttons of metal or bone, my man? Polish them and find out." + +"What did you cook in that helmet?" + +"Take your belt in seven holes, and put it where your waist was." + +"Are _you_ fourteen years old yet?" + +"Personally I don't care to see brown boots, patent shoes nor carpet +slippers with uniform." + +"And when were you ninety, my poor fellow?" + +"Get your belly out of my way." + +"Put this unclean person under arrest or under a pump, please, Colonel." + +"Can you load a rifle unaided?" and so forth. + +The last-mentioned query "Can you load a rifle unaided?" addressed to a +weedy youth of seventeen who stood like a living mark-of-interrogation, +elicited the reply:-- + +"Nossir". + +"Oh, really! And what _can_ you do?" replied the General sweetly. + +"Load a rifle Lee-Metford," was the prompt answer. + +The General smiled wintrily, and, at the conclusion of his +peregrination, remarked to Colonel Dearman:-- + +"Well, Colonel, I can safely say that I have never inspected a +corps quite like yours"--an observation capable of various +interpretations--and intimated a desire to witness some company drill +ere testing the abilities of the regiment in battalion drill. + +"Let the rear company march out and go through some movements," said he. + +"Why the devil couldn't he have chosen Ross-Ellison's company," thought +Colonel Dearman, as he saluted and lifted up his voice and cried +aloud:-- + +"Captain Rozario! March 'G' Company out for some company-drill. +Remainder--stand _easy_." + +Captain Rozario paled beneath the bronze imparted to his well-nourished +face by the suns of Portugal (or Goa), drew his sword, dropped it, +picked it up, saluted with his left hand and backed into Lieutenant +Xenophontis of "F" Company, who asked him vare the devil he was going +to--hein?... + +To the first cold stroke of fright succeeded the hot flush of rage as +Captain Rozario saw the absurdity of ordering him to march his company +out for company drill. How in the name of all the Holy Saints could he +march his company out with six companies planted in front of him? Let +them be cleared away first. To his men he ejaculated:-- + +"Compannee----!" and they accepted the remark in silence. + +The silence growing tense he further ejaculated "Ahem!" very loudly, +without visible result or consequence. The silence growing tenser, +Colonel Dearman said encouragingly but firmly:-- + +"_Do_ something, Captain Rozario". + +Captain Rozario did something. He drew his whistle. He blew it. He +replaced it in his pocket. + +Nothing happening, he took his handkerchief from his sleeve, blew his +nose therewith and dropped it (the handkerchief) upon the ground. Seven +obliging volunteers darted forward to retrieve it. + +"May we expect the evolutions this evening, Colonel?" inquired General +Murger politely. + +"We are waiting for you to move off, Captain Rozario," stated Colonel +Dearman. + +"Sir, how can I move off with _oll_ the rest in my front?" inquired +Captain Rozario reasonably. + +"Form fours, right, and quick march," prompted the Sergeant-Major, and +Captain Rozario shrilled forth: + +"Form right fours and march quick," at the top of his voice. + +Many members of "G" Company turned to their right and marched towards +the setting-sun, while some turned to their left and marched in the +direction of China. + +These latter, discovering in good time that they had erred, hurried to +rejoin their companions--and "G" Company was soon in full swing if not +in fours.... + +There is a limit to all enterprise and the march of "G" Company was +stayed by a high wall. + +Then Captain Rozario had an inspiration. + +"About turn," he shrieked--and "G" Company about turned as one man, if +not in one direction. + +The march of "G" Company was stayed this time by the battalion into +which it comfortably nuzzled. + +Again Captain Rozario seized the situation and acted promptly and +resourcefully. + +"Halt!" he squeaked, and "G" Company halted--in form an oblate spheroid. + +Some of its members removed their helmets and the sweat of their brows, +some re-fastened bootlaces and putties or unfastened restraining hooks +and buttons. One gracefully succumbed to his exertions and fainting +fell, with an eye upon the General. + +"Interestin' evolution," remarked that Officer. "Demmed interestin'. May +we have some more?" + +"Get on, Captain Rozario," implored Colonel Dearman. "Let's see some +company-drill." + +"One hundred and twenty-five paces backward march," cried Captain +Rozario after a brief calculation, and "G" Company reluctantly detached +itself from the battalion, backwards. + +"Turn round this away and face to me," continued the gallant Captain, +"and then on the left form good companee." + +The oblate spheroid assumed an archipelagic formation, melting into +irregularly-placed military islands upon a sea of dust. + +"_Oll_ get together and left dress, please," besought Captain Rozario, +and many of the little islands amalgamated with that on their extreme +right while the remainder gravitated to their left--the result being +two continents of unequal dimensions. + +As Captain Rozario besought these disunited masses to conjoin, the voice +of the General was heard in the land-- + +"Kindly order that mob to disperse before it is fired on, will you, +Colonel? They can go home and stay there," said he. + +Captain Rozario was a man of sensibility and he openly wept. + +No one could call this a good beginning--nor could they have called the +ensuing battalion-drill a good ending. + +"Put the remainder of the battalion through some simple movements if +they know any," requested the General. + +Determined to retrieve the day yet, Colonel Dearman saluted, cleared his +throat terrifically and shouted: '"Tallish, 'shun!" with such force that +a nervous man in the front rank of "A" Company dropped his rifle and +several "presented" arms. + +Only one came to the "slope," two to the "trail" and four to the +"shoulder". + +Men already at attention again stood at ease, while men already at ease +again stood at attention. + +Disregarding these minor _contretemps_, Colonel Dearman clearly and +emphatically bellowed:-- + +"The battalion will advance. In succession, advance in fours from the +left of companies--" + +"Why not tell off the battalion--just for luck?" suggested General +Murger. + +"Tell off the battalion," said Colonel Dearman in his natural voice and +an unnaturally crestfallen manner. + +Captain Trebizondi of "A" Company glared to his front, and instead of +replying "Number One" in a loud voice, held his peace--tight. + +But his lips moved constantly, and apparently Captain Trebizondi was +engaged in silent prayer. + +"Tell off the battalion," bawled the Colonel again. + +Captain Trebizondi's lips moved constantly. + +"_Will_ you tell off the dam battalion, Sir?" shouted the Colonel at the +enrapt supplicant. + +Whether Captain Trebizondi is a Mohammedan I am not certain, but, if so, +he may have remembered words of the Prophet to the effect that it is +essential to trust in Allah absolutely, and expedient to tie up your +camel yourself, none the less. Captain Trebizondi was trusting in Allah +perchance--but he had not tied up his camel; he had not learnt his +drill. + +And when Colonel Dearman personally and pointedly appealed to him in the +matter of the battalion's telling-off, he turned round and faced it and +said-- + +"Ah--battalion--er--" in a very friendly and persuasive voice. + +Then a drill corporal took it upon him to bawl _Number One_ as Captain +Trebizondi should have done, some one shouted _Number Two_ from "B" +Company, the colour-sergeant of "C" bawled _Number Three_ and then, with +ready wit, the Captains of "D," "E," and "F" caught up the idea, and the +thing was done. + +So far so good. + +And the Colonel returned to his first venture and again announced to the +battalion that it would advance in succession and in fours from the left +of companies. + +It bore the news with equanimity and Captain Trebizondi visibly +brightened at the idea of leaving the spot on which he had suffered and +sweated--but he took no steps in the matter personally. + +He tried to scratch his leg through his gaiter. + +"'A' Company going this evening?" inquired the General. "Wouldn't hurry +you, y'know, but--I dine at nine." + +Captain Trebizondi remembered his parade-manners and threw a chest +instead of a stomach. + +The jerk caused his helmet to tilt forward over his eyes and settle down +slowly and firmly upon his face as a fallen cliff upon the beach +beneath. + +"The Officer commanding the leading company appears to be trying to +hide," commented General Murger. + +Captain Trebizondi uncovered his face--a face of great promise but no +performance. + +"_Will_ you march your company off, sir," shouted Colonel Dearman, "the +battalion is waiting for you." + +With a look of reproachful surprise and an air of "Why couldn't you say +so?" the harassed Captain agitated his sword violently as a salute, +turned to his company and boomed finely:-- + +"March off!" + +The Company obeyed its Commander. + +Seeing the thing so easy of accomplishment Captains Allessandropoulos, +Schloggenboschenheimer, Da Costa, Euxino, Spoophitophiles and Jose gave +the same order and the battalion was in motion--marching to its front in +quarter-column instead of wheeling off in fours. + + Unsteadily shoulder from shoulder, + Unsteadily blade from blade, + Unsteady and wrong, slouching along, + Went the boys of the old brigade. + +"Halt," roared Colonel Dearman. + +"Oh, don't halt 'em," begged General Murger, "it's the most entertainin' +show I have ever seen." + +The smart and dapper Brigade-Major's mouth was open. + +Major Pinto and Captain-and-Acting-Adjutant Petropaulovski forgot to +cling to their horses with hand and heel and so endangered their lives. + +The non-commissioned officers of the permanent staff commended their +souls to God and marched as men in a dream. + +On hearing the Colonel's cry of "Halt" many of the men halted. Not +hearing the Colonel's cry of "Halt" many of the men did not halt. + +In two minutes the battalion was without form and void. + +In ten minutes the permanent staff had largely re-sorted it and, to a +great extent, re-formed the original companies. + +Captain Jose offered his subaltern, Lieutenant Bylegharicontractor, a +hundred rupees to change places with him. + +Offer refused, with genuine and deep regret, but firmly. + +"Shall we have another try, Colonel," inquired General Murger silkily. +"Any amount of real initiative and originality about this Corps. But I +am old-fashioned enough to prefer drill-book evolutions on the +barrack-square, I confess. Er--let the Major carry on as it is getting +late." + +Colonel Dearman's face flushed a rich dark purple. His eyes protruded +till they resembled those of a crab. His red hair appeared to flame +like very fire. His lips twitched and he gasped for breath. Could he +believe his ears. "_Let the Major carry on as it is getting late_!" Let +him step into the breach "as it is getting late!" Let the more +competent, though junior, officer take over the command "as it is +getting late". Ho!--likewise Ha! This aged roue, this miserable +wine-bibbing co-respondent, with his tremulous hand and boiled eye, +thought that Colonel Dearman did not know his drill, did he? Wanted the +wretched and incompetent Pinto to carry on, did he?--as it was getting +late. + +Good! Ha! Likewise Ho! "Let Pinto carry on as it was getting late!" + +Very well! _If it cost Colonel Dearman every penny he had in the world +he would have his revenge on the insolent scoundrel_. He might think he +could insult Colonel Dearman's wife with impunity, he might think +himself entitled to cast ridicule on Colonel Dearman's Corps--but "let +the Major carry on as it is getting late!" By God that was too +much!--That was the last straw that breaks the camel's heart--and +Colonel Dearman would have his revenge or lose life, honour, and wealth +in the attempt. + +_Ha_! and, moreover, _Ho_! + +The Colonel knew his battalion-drill by heart and backwards. Was it +_his_ fault that his officers were fools and his men damn-fools? + +Major Pinto swallowed hard, blinked hard, and breathed hard. Like the +Lady of Shallott he felt that the curse had come upon him. + +"Battalion will advance. Quick march," he shouted, as a safe beginning. +But the Sergeant-Major had by this time fully explained to the sweating +Captain Trebizondi that he should have given the order "Form fours. +Left. Right wheel. Quick march," when the Colonel had announced that the +battalion would advance "in succession from the left of companies". + +Like lightning he now hurled forth the orders. "Form fours. Left. Right +wheel. Quick march.", and the battalion was soon under way with one +company in column of fours and the remaining five companies in line.... + +Time cures all troubles, and in time "A" Company was pushed and pulled +back into line again. + +The incident pleased Major Pinto as it wasted the fleeting minutes and +gave him a chance to give the only other order of which he was sure. + +"That was _oll_ wrong," said he. "We will now, however, oll advance as +'A' Company did. The arder will be 'Battalion will advance. In +succession, advance in fours from the right of companees.' Thenn each +officer commanding companees will give the arder 'Form fours. Right. +Left wheel. Quick march' one after _thee_ other." + +And the Major gave the order. + +To the surprise of every living soul upon the parade-ground the +manoeuvre was correctly executed and the battalion moved off in column +of fours. And it kept on moving. And moving. For Major Pinto had come to +the end of his tether. + +"_Do_ something, man," said Colonel Dearman with haughty scorn, after +some five minutes of strenuous tramping had told severely on the +_morale_ of the regiment. + +And Major Pinto, hoping for the best and fearing the worst, lifted up +his voice and screamed:-- + +"On the right _form battalion_!" + +Let us draw a veil. + +The adjective that General Murger used with the noun he called the +Gungapur Fusiliers is not to be printed. + +The address he made to that Corps after it had once more found itself +would have led a French or Japanese regiment to commit suicide by +companies, taking the time from the right. A Colonel of Romance Race +would have fallen on his sword at once (and borrowed something more +lethal had it failed to penetrate). + +But the corps, though not particularly British, was neither French nor +Japanese and was very glad of the rest while the General talked. And +Colonel Dearman, instead of falling on his sword, fell on General Murger +(in spirit) and swore to be revenged tenfold. + +He would have his own back, cost what it might, or his name was not +Dearman--and he was going Home on leave immediately after the Volunteer +Annual Camp of Exercise, just before General Murger retired.... + +"I shall inspect your corps in camp," General Murger had said, "and the +question of its disbandment may wait until I have done so." + +_Disbandment_! The question of the _disbandment_ of the fine and +far-famed Fusiliers of Gungapur could wait till then, could it? Well +_and_ good! Ha! and likewise Ho! + +On Captain John Robin Ross-Ellison's return from leave, Colonel Dearman +told that officer of General Murger's twofold insult--to Colonel +Dearman's wife and to Colonel Dearman's Corps. On hearing of the first, +Captain Ross-Ellison showed his teeth in a wolfish and ugly manner, and, +on hearing of the second, propounded a scheme of vengeance that made +Colonel Dearman grin and then burst into a roar of laughter. He bade +Captain Ross-Ellison dine with him and elaborate details of the scheme. + + * * * * * + +To rumours of General Murger's failing health and growing alcoholism +Colonel Dearman listened with interest--nay, satisfaction. Stories of +seizures, strokes and "goes" of _delirium tremens_ met with no rebuke +nor contradiction from him--and an air of leisured ease and unanxious +peacefulness pervaded the Gungapur Fusiliers. If any member had thought +that the sad performance of the fatal Saturday night and the winged +words of General Murger were to be the prelude to period of fierce +activity and frantic preparation, he was mistaken. It was almost as +though Colonel Dearman believed that General Murger would not live to +carry out his threat. + +The corps paraded week by week, fell in, marched round the ground and +fell out again. There was no change of routine, no increase of work, no +stress, no strain. + +All was peace, the corps was happy, and in the fullness of time (and the +absence of the Adjutant) it went to Annual Camp of Exercise a few miles +from Gungapur. And there the activities of Captain John Robin +Ross-Ellison and a large band of chosen men were peculiar. While the +remainder, with whom went Colonel Dearman, the officers, and the +permanent staff, marched about in the usual manner and enjoyed the +picnic, these others appeared to be privately and secretly rehearsing a +more specialized part--to the mystification and wonder of the said +remainder. Even on the great day, the day of the Annual Inspection, this +division was maintained and the "remainder" were marched off to the +other side of the wood adjacent to the Camp, some couple of hours before +the expected arrival of the General, who would come out by train. + +The arrangement was that the horses of the General and the Brigade-Major +should await those officers at the camp station, and that, on arrival, +they would be mounted by their owners who would then ride to the camp, a +furlong distant. Near the camp a mounted orderly would meet the General +and escort him to the spot where the battalion, with Colonel Dearman at +its head, would be drawn up for his inspection. + +A large bungalow, used as the Officers' Mess, a copse, and a hillock +completely screened the spot used as the battalion parade-ground, from +the view of one approaching the Camp, and the magnificent sight of the +Gungapur Fusiliers under arms would burst upon him only when he rounded +the corner of a wall of palms, cactus, and bamboos, and entered by a +narrow gap between it and a clump of dense jungle. + + * * * * * + +General Murger was feeling distinctly bad as he sat on the edge of his +bed and viewed with the eye of disfavour the _choti hazri_[51] set forth +for his delectation. + + [51] "Little presence," early breakfast, _petit dejeuner_. + +As he intended to inspect the Volunteers in the early morning and +return to a mid-day breakfast, the _choti hazri_ was substantial, though +served on a tray in his bedroom. + +The General yawned, rubbed his eyes and grunted. + +"Eggs be demmed," said he. + +"Toast be demmed," he said. + +"Tea be demmed," he shouted. + +"_Pate de fois gras_ be demmed," shouted he. + +"Jobler! Bring me a bottle of beer," he roared. + +"No, bring me a brandy-cocktail," roared he. + +For the brandy-cocktail the General felt better for a time but he +wished, first, that his hand would not shake in such a way that +hair-brushing was difficult and shaving impossible; secondly, that the +prevailing colour of everything was not blue; thirdly, that he did not +feel giddy when he stood up; fourthly, that his head did not ache; +fifthly, that his mouth would provide some other flavour than that of a +glue-coated copper coin; sixthly, that things would keep still and his +boots cease to smile at him from the corner; seventhly, that he had not +gone to the St. Andrew's dinner last night, begun on _punch a la +Romaine_, continued on neat whisky in _quaichs_ and finished on port, +liqueurs, champagne and haphazard brandy-and-sodas, whisky-and-sodas, +and any old thing that was handy; and eighthly, that he had had a quart +of beer instead of the brandy-cocktail for _choti hazri_. + +But that could easily be remedied by having the beer now. The General +had the beer and soon wished that he hadn't, for it made him feel very +bad indeed. + +However, a man must do his dooty, ill or well, and when the +Brigade-Major sent up to remind the General that the train went at +seven, he was answered by the General himself and a hint that he was +officious. During the brief train-journey the General slumbered. + +On mounting his horse, the General was compelled to work out a little +sum. + +If one has four fingers there must be three inter-finger spaces, eh? +Granted. Then how the devil are four reins to go into three places +between four fingers, eh? Absurd idea, an' damsilly. However, till the +matter was referred to the War Office and finally settled, one could put +two reins between two fingers or pass one outside the lill' finger, +what? But the General hated compromises.... The mounted orderly met the +General, saluted and directed him to the entrance to the tree-encircled +camp and parade-ground. + +At the entrance, the General, leading, reined in so sharply as to throw +his horse on its haunches--his mouth fell open, his mottled face went +putty-coloured, and each hair that he possessed appeared to bristle. + +He uttered a deep groan, rubbed his eyes, emitted a yell, wheeled round +and galloped for dear life, with a cry, nay a scream, of "_I've got 'em +at last_," followed by his utterly bewildered but ever-faithful +Brigade-Major, who had seen nothing but foliage, scrub, and cactus. To +Gungapur the General galloped without drawing rein, took to his bed, +sent for surgeon and priest--and became a teetotaller. + +And what had he seen? + +The affair is wrapped in mystery. + +The Brigade-Major says nothing because he knows nothing, as it happens, +and the Corps declared it was never inspected. Father Ignatius knows +what the General saw, or thinks he saw, and so does the Surgeon-General, +but neither is in the habit of repeating confessions and confidences. +What Jobler, at the keyhole, understood him to say he had seen, or +thought he had seen, is not to be believed. + +Judge of it. + +"I rode into the dem place and what did I behold? A dem pandemonium, +Sir, a pantomime--a lunatic asylum, Sir--all Hell out for a Bank +Holiday, I tell you. There was a battalion of Red Indians, Negroes, +Esquimaux, Ballet Girls, Angels, Sweeps, Romans, Sailors, Pierrots, +Savages, Bogeymen, Ancient Britons, Bishops, Zulus, Pantaloons, +Beef-eaters, Tramps, Life-Guards, Washerwomen, Ghosts, Clowns and +God-knows-what, armed with jezails, umbrellas, brooms, catapults, pikes, +brickbats, _kukeries_,[52] pokers, clubs, axes, horse-pistols, bottles, +dead fowls, polo-sticks, assegais and bombs. They were commanded by a +Highlander in a bum-bee tartan kilt, top-hat and one sock, with a red +nose a foot long, riding on a rocking horse and brandishing a dem great +cucumber and a tea-tray made into a shield. There was a thundering great +drain-pipe mounted on a bullock-cart and a naked man, painted blue, in a +cocked-hat, laying an aim and firing a penny-pistol down the middle of +it and yelling 'Pip!' + + [52] Ghurka knives. + +"There was a chauffeur in smart livery on an elephant, twirling a +steering-wheel on its neck for dear life, and tooting a big motor-horn.. +There was a fat man in a fireman's helmet and pyjamas, armed with a +peashooter, riding a donkey backwards--and the moke wore two pairs of +trousers!... As I rubbed my poor old eyes, the devil in command howled +'General salaam. Pre_sent_-legs'--and every fiend there fell flat on his +face and raised his right leg up behind--I tell you, Sir, I fled for my +life, and--no more liquor for me." ... + +When ex-Colonel Dearman heard any reference to this mystery he roared +with laughter--but it was the Last Muster of the fine and far-famed +Gungapur Fusiliers, as such. + +The Corps was disbanded forthwith and re-formed on a different basis (of +quality instead of quantity) with Lieutenant-Colonel John Robin +Ross-Ellison, promoted, in command--he having caught the keen eye of +that splendid soldier and gentleman Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur +Barnet, K.C.V.O., K.C.S.I. (G.O.C., XVIth Division), as being the very +man for the job of re-organizing the Corps, and making it worth its +capitation-grant. + +"If I could get Captain Malet-Marsac as Adjutant and a Sergeant-Major of +whom I know (used to be at Duri--man named Lawrence-Smith) I'd undertake +to show you something, Sir, in a year or two," said Lieutenant-Colonel +Ross-Ellison. + +"Malet-Marsac you can certainly have," replied Sir Arthur Barnet. "I'll +speak to your new Brigadier. If you can find your Lawrence-Smith we'll +see what can be done." ... + +And Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison wrote to Sergeant-Major +Lawrence-Smith of the Duri Volunteer Rifles to know if he would like a +transfer upon advantageous terms, and got no reply. + +As it happened, Lieutenant-Colonel Ross-Ellison, in very different +guise, had seen Sergeant Lawrence-Smith extricate and withdraw his +officerless company from the tightest of tight places (on the Border) in +a manner that moved him to large admiration. It had been a case of "and +even the ranks of Tuscany" on the part of Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan +Ilderim Dost Mahommed.... Later he had encountered him and Captain +Malet-Marsac at Duri. + + + +Sec. 3. SERGEANT-MAJOR LAWRENCE-SMITH. + + +Mrs. Pat Dearman was sceptical. + +"Do you mean to tell me that _you_, a man of science, an eminent medical +man, and a soldier, believe in the supernatural?" + +"Well, you see, I'm 'Oirish' and therefore unaccountable," replied +Colonel Jackson (of the Royal Army Medical Corps), fine doctor, fine +scholar, and fine gentleman. + +"And you believe in haunted houses and ghosts and things, do you? +_Well_!" + +The salted-almond dish was empty, and Mrs. Dearman accused her other +neighbour, Mr. John Robin Ross-Ellison. Having already prepared to meet +and rebut the charge of greediness he made passes over the vessel and it +was replenished. + +"Supernatural!" said she. + +"Most," said he. + +She prudently removed the dish to the far side of her plate--and +Colonel Jackson emptied it. + +Not having prepared to meet the request to replenish the store a second +time, it was useless for Mr. Ross-Ellison to make more passes when +commanded so to do. + +"The usual end of the 'supernatural,'" observed Mrs. Dearman with +contempt. + +"Most usual," said he. + +"More than 'most,'" corrected Mrs. Dearman. "It is the invariable end of +it, I believe. Just humbug and rubbish. It is either an invention, pure +and simple, or else it is perfectly explicable. Don't you think so, +Colonel Jackson?" + +"Not always," said her partner. "Now, will you, first, believe my word, +and, secondly, find the explanation--if I tell you a perfectly true +'supernatural' story?" + +"I'll certainly believe your word, Colonel, if you're serious, and I'll +try and suggest an explanation if you like," replied Mrs. Dearman. + +"Same to me, Mrs. Dearman?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. "I've had +'experiences' too--and can tell you one of them." + +"Same to you, Mr. Ross-Ellison," replied Mrs. Dearman, and added: "But +why only one of them?" + +Mr. Ross-Ellison smiled, glanced round the luxuriously appointed table +and the company of fair women and brave men--and thought of a +far-distant and little-known place called Mekran Kot and of a phantom +cavalry corps that haunted a valley in its vicinity. + +"Only one worth telling," said he. + +"Well,--first case," began Colonel Jackson, "I was once driving past a +cottage on my way home from College (in Ireland), and I saw the old lady +who lived in that cottage come out of the door, cross her bit of garden, +go through a gate, scuttle over the railway-line and enter a fenced +field that had belonged to her husband, and which she (and a good many +other people) believed rightly belonged to her. + +"'There goes old Biddy Maloney pottering about in that plot of ground +again,' thinks I. 'She's got it on the brain since her law-suit.' I knew +it was Biddy, of course, not only because of her coming out of Biddy's +house, but because it was Biddy's figure, walk, crutch-stick, and +patched old cloak. When I got home I happened to say to Mother: 'I saw +poor old Biddy Maloney doddering round that wretched field as I came +along'. + +"'What?' said my mother, 'why, your father was called to her, as she was +dying, hours ago, and she's not been out of her bed for weeks.' When my +father came in, I learned that Biddy was dead an hour before I saw +her--before I left the railway station in fact! What do you make of +that? Is there any 'explanation'?" + +"Some other old lady," suggested Mrs. Dearman. + +"No. There was nobody else in those parts mistakable for Biddy Maloney, +and no other old woman was in or near the house while my father was +there. We sifted the matter carefully. It was Biddy Maloney and no one +else." + +"Auto-suggestion. Visualization on the retina of an idea in the mind. +Optical illusion," hazarded Mrs. Dearman. + +"No good. I hadn't realized I was approaching Biddy Maloney's cottage +until I saw her coming out of it and I certainly hadn't thought of Biddy +Maloney until my eye fell upon her. And it's a funny optical illusion +that deceives one into seeing an old lady opening gates, crossing +railways and limping away into fenced fields." + +"H'm! What was the other case?" asked Mrs. Dearman, turning to Mr. +Ross-Ellison. + +"That happened here in India at a station called Duri, away in the +Northern Presidency, where I was then--er--living for a time. On the day +after my arrival I went to call on Malet-Marsac to whom I had letters of +introduction--political business--and, as he was out, but certain to +return in a minute or two from Parade, I sat me down in a comfortable +chair in the verandah----" + +"And went to sleep?" interrupted Mrs. Dearman. + +'"I _nevah_ sleep,'" quoted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "and I had no time, if any +inclination. Scarcely indeed had I seated myself, and actually while I +was placing my _topi_ on an adjacent stool, a lady emerged from a +distant door at the end of the verandah and walked towards me. I can +tell you I was mighty surprised, for not only was Captain Malet-Marsac a +lone bachelor and a misogynist of blameless life, but the lady looked as +though she had stepped straight out of an Early Victorian +phonograph-album. She had on a crinoline sort of dress, a deep lace +collar, spring-sidey sort of boots, mittens, and a huge cameo brooch. +Also she had long ringlets. Her face is stamped on my memory and I +could pick her out from a hundred women similarly dressed, or her +picture from a hundred others...." + +"What did you do?" asked Mrs. Dearman, whose neglected ice-pudding was +fast being submerged in a pink lake of its own creation. + +"Do? Nothing. I grabbed my _topi_, stood up, bowed--and looked silly." + +"And what did the lady do?" + +"Came straight on, taking no notice whatsoever of me, until she reached +the steps leading into the porch and garden.... She passed down these +and out of my sight.... That is the plain statement of an actual fact. +Have you any 'explanation' to offer?" + +"Well--what about a lady staying there, unexpectedly and unbeknownst (to +the station), trying on a get-up for a Fancy Dress Ball. Going as 'My +ancestress' or something?" suggested Mrs. Dearman. + +"Exactly what I told myself, though I _knew_ it was nothing of the +kind.... Well, five minutes later Malet-Marsac rode up the drive and we +were soon fraternizing over cheroots and cold drinks.... As I was +leaving, an idea struck me, and I saw a way to ask a question--which was +burning my tongue,--without being too rudely inquisitive. + +"'By the way,' said I, 'I fear I did not send in the right number of +visiting cards, but they told me there was no lady here, so I only sent +in one--for you.' + +"'There _is_ no lady here,' he replied, eyeing me queerly. 'What made +you think you had been misinformed?' + +"'Well,' said I bluntly, 'a lady came out of the end room just now, +walked down the verandah, and went out into the garden. You'd better +see if anything is missing as she's not an inhabitant!' + +"'No--there won't be anything missing,' he replied. 'Did she wear a +crinoline and a general air of last century?' + +"'She did,' said I. + +"'Our own private ghost,' was the answer--and it was the sort of +statement I had anticipated. Now I solemnly assure you that at that time +I had never heard, read, nor dreamed that there was a 'ghost' in this +bungalow, nor in Duri--nor in the whole Northern Presidency for that +matter.... + +"'What's the story?' I asked, of course. + +"'Mutiny. 1857,' said Malet-Marsac. 'Husband shot on the parade-ground. +She got the news and marched straight to the spot. They cut her in +pieces as she held his body in her arms. Lots of people have seen +her--anywhere between that room and the parade-ground.' + +"'Then you have to believe in ghosts--in Duri, or how do you account for +it?' I asked. + +"'I don't bother my head,' he replied. 'But I have seen that poor lady a +good many times. And no one told me a word about her until after I had +seen her.'" + +And then Mrs. Dearman suddenly rose, as her hostess "caught" the +collective female eye of the table. + +"Was all that about the 'ghosts' of the old Irishwoman and the Early +Victorian Lady true, you fellows?" asked John Bruce, the Professor of +Engineering, after coffee, cigars and the second glass of port had +reconciled the residue or sediment to the departure of the sterner sex. + +"Didn't you hear me say my story was true?" replied Colonel Jackson +brusquely. "It was absolutely and perfectly true." + +"Same here," added Mr. Ross-Ellison. + +"Then on two separate occasions you two have seen what you can only +believe to be the ghosts of dead people?" + +"On one occasion I have, without any possibility of error or doubt, seen +the ghost of a dead person," said Colonel Jackson. + +"Have you ever come across any other thoroughly substantiated cases of +ghost-seeing--cases which have really convinced you, Colonel?" queried +Mr. Ross-Ellison--being deeply interested in the subject by reason of +queer powers and experiences of his own. + +"Yes. Many in which I fully believe, and one about which I am _certain_. +A very interesting case--and a very cruel tragedy." + +"Would you mind telling me about it?" asked Mr. Ross-Ellison. + +"Pleasure. More--I'll give you as interesting and convincing a 'human +document' about it as ever you read, if you like." + +"I shall be eternally grateful," replied the other. + +"It was a sad and sordid business. The man, whose last written words +I'll give you to read, was a Sergeant-Major in the Volunteer Rifles +(also at Duri where I was stationed, as you know) and he was a gentleman +born and bred, poor chap." ["Lawrence-Smith," murmured Mr. John Robin +Ross-Ellison with an involuntary movement of surprise. His eyebrows rose +and his jaw fell.] "Yes, he was that rare bird a gentleman-ranker who +remained a gentleman and a ranker--and became a fine soldier. He called +himself Lawrence-Smith and owned a good old English name that you'd +recognize if I mentioned it--and you'd be able to name some of his +relatives too. He was kicked out of Sandhurst for striking one of the +subordinate staff under extreme provocation. The army was in his blood +and bones, and he enlisted." + +"Excuse me," interrupted Mr. Ross-Ellison, "you speak of this +Sergeant-Major Lawrence-Smith in the past tense. Is he dead then?" + +"He is dead," replied Colonel Jackson. "Did you know him?" + +"I believe I saw him at Duri," answered Mr. Ross-Ellison with an +excellent assumption of indifference. "What's the story?" + +"I'll give you his own tale on paper--let me have it back--and, mind +you, every single word of it is Gospel truth. The man was a _gentleman_, +an educated, thoughtful, sober chap, and as sane as you or I. I got to +know him well--he was in hospital, with blood-poisoning from +panther-bite, for a time--and we became friends. Actual friends, I mean. +Used to play golf with him. (You remember the Duri Links.) In mufti, +you'd never have dreamed for a moment that he was not a Major or a +Colonel. Army life had not coarsened him in the slightest, and he kept +some lounge-suits and mess-kit by Poole. Many a good Snob of my +acquaintance has left my house under the impression that the +Lawrence-Smith he had met there, and with whom he had been +hail-fellow-well-met, was his social equal or superior. + +"He simply was a refined and educated gentleman and that's all there is +about it. Well--you'll read his statement--and, as you read, you may +tell yourself that I am as convinced of its truth as I am of anything in +this world.... He was dead when I got to him. + +"The stains, on the backs of some of the sheets and on the front of the +last one, are--blood stains...." + +And at this point their host suggested the propriety of joining the +ladies.... + +Colonel Jackson gave Mr. Ross-Ellison a "lift" in his powerful motor as +far as his bungalow, entered, and a few minutes later emerged with a +long and fat envelope. + +"Here you are," said he. "I took it upon myself to annex the papers as I +was his friend. Let's have 'em back. No need for me to regard them as +'private and confidential' so far as I can see, poor chap. Good-night." + +Having achieved the haven of loose Pathan trousers and a muslin shirt +(worn over them) in the privacy of his bed-room, Mr. Ross-Ellison, +looking rather un-English, sat on a camp-cot (he never really liked +chairs) and read, as follows, from a sheaf of neatly-written (and +bloodstained) sheets of foolscap. + + * * * * * + +I have come to the point at which I decide to stop. I have had enough. +But I should like to ask one or two questions. + +1. Why has a man no right to quit a world in which he no longer desires +to live? 2. Why should Evil be allowed to triumph? 3. Why should people +who cannot see spirit forms be so certain that such do not exist, when +none but an ignorant fool argues, "I believe in what I can see"? + +With regard to the first question I maintain that a man has a perfect +right to "take" the life that was "given" him (without his own consent +or desire), provided it is not an act of cowardice nor an evasion of +just punishment or responsibility. I would add--provided also that he +does not, in so doing, basely desert his duty, those who are in any way +dependent on him, or those who really love him. + +I detest that idiotic phrase "while of unsound mind". I am as sound in +mind as any man living, but because I end an unbearable state of +affairs, and take the only step I can think of as likely to give me +peace--I shall be written down mad. Moreover should I fail--in my +attempt to kill myself (which I shall not) I should be prosecuted as a +criminal! + +To me, albeit I have lived long under strict discipline and regard true +discipline as the first essential of moral, physical, mental, and social +training, to me it seems a gross and unwarrantable interference with the +liberty of the individual--to deny him sufficient captaincy of his soul +for him to be free to control it at the dictates of his conscience, and +to keep it Here or to send it There as may seem best. Surely the +implanted love of life and fear of death are sufficient safeguards +without any legislation or insolent arrogant interference between a man +and his own ego? Anyhow, such are my views, and in perfect soundness of +mind and body, after mature reflection and with full confidence in my +right so to do, I am about to end my life here. + +As to the second question, "Why should Evil be allowed to triumph?" I +confess that my mind cannot argue in a circle and say, "You are born +full of Original Sin, and if you sin you are Damned"--a vicious circle +drawn for me by the gloomy, haughty, insincere and rather unintelligent +young gentleman whom I respectfully salute as Chaplain, and who regards +me and every other non-commissioned soldier as a Common, if not Low, +person. + +He would not even answer my queries by means of the good old loop-hole, +"It is useless to appeal to Reason if you cannot to Faith" and so beg +the question. He said that things _were_ because the Lord said they +were, and that it was impious to doubt it. More impious was it, I +gathered, to doubt him, and to allude to Criticisms he had never read. + +His infallible "proof" was "It is in the Bible". + +Possibly I shall shortly know why an Omnipotent, Omniscient, Impeccable +Deity allows this world to be the Hell it is, even if there be no actual +Hell for the souls of his errant Creatures (in spite of the statements +of the Chaplain who appears to have exclusive information on the +subject, inaccessible to laymen, and to rest peacefully assured of a +Real Hell for the wicked,--nonconforming, and vulgar). + +At present I cannot understand and I do not know--though I am informed +and infused with a burning and reverent desire to understand and to +know--why Evil should be allowed to triumph, as in my own case, as well +as in those of millions of others, it does. And thirdly, why does the +man who would never deny beauty in a poem or picture because he failed +to see it while others did, deny that immaterial forms of the dead +exist, because he has never seen one, though others have? + +I know of so many many men who would blush to be called +"I-believe-what-I-see men," who yet laugh to scorn the bare idea of the +materialization and visualization of visitants from the spirit world, +because they have never seen one. I have so often met the argument, "The +ghost of a man I might conceive--but I can _not_ conceive the appearance +of the ghost of a pair of trousers or of a top-hat," offered as though +it were unanswerable. Surely the spirit, aura, shade, ghost, soul, +ego--what you will--can permeate and penetrate and pervade clothing and +other matter as well as flesh? + +Well, once again, I do not know,--and yet I have seen, not once +but repeatedly, not by moonlight in a churchyard, but under the +Indian sun on a parade-ground, the ghost of a man _and of all his +accoutrements,--of a rifle, of a horse and all a horse's trappings_. + +I have been a teetotaller for years, I have never had sunstroke and I am +as absolutely sane as ever a man was. + +And further I am in no sense remorseful, repentant, or "dogged by the +spectre of an evil deed". + +I killed Burker intentionally. Were he alive again I would kill him +again. I punished him myself because the law could not punish him as he +deserved, and I in no way regret or deplore my just and judicial action. +There are deeds a gentleman must resent and punish--with the extreme +penalty. No, it is in no sense a case of the self-tormented wretch +driven mad by the awful hallucinations of his guilty, unhinged mind. I +am no haunted murderer pursued by phantoms and illusions, believing +himself always in the presence of his victim's ghost. + +All people who have read anything, have read of the irresistible +fascination that the scene of the murder has for the murderer, of the +way in which the victim "haunts" the slayer, and of how the truth that +"murder will out" is really based on the fact that the murderer is his +own most dangerous accuser by reason of his life of terror, remorse, and +terrible hallucination. + +My case is in no wise parallel. + +I am absolutely without fear, regret, remorse, repentance, dread or +terror in the matter of my killing Sergeant Burker. Exactly how and why +I killed him, and how and why I am about to kill myself, I will now set +forth, without the slightest exaggeration, special pleading or any other +deviation from the truth.... + +I am to my certain knowledge the eighth consecutive member of my family, +in the direct line, to follow the profession of arms, but am the first +to do so without bearing a commission. My father died young in the rank +of Captain, my grandfather led his own regiment in the Crimea, my +great-grandfather was a Lieutenant-General, and, if I told you my real +name, you could probably state something that he did at Waterloo. + +I went to Sandhurst and I was expelled from Sandhurst--very rightly and +justly--for an offence, or rather the culminating offence of a series of +offences, that were everything but mean, dishonest or underhand. I was +wild, hasty, undisciplined and I was lost for want of a father to thrash +me as a boy, and by possession of a most loving and devoted mother who +worshipped, spoiled--and ruined me. + +I enlisted under an assumed name in my late father's (and +grandfather's) old Regiment of Foot and quickly rose to the rank of +Sergeant-Major. + +I might have had a commission in South Africa but I decided that I +preferred ruling in hell to serving in heaven, and declined to be a +grey-haired Lieutenant and a nuisance to the Officers' Mess of the Corps +I would not leave until compelled. + +In time I _was_ compelled and I became Sergeant-Major of the Volunteer +Rifle Corps here and husband of a--well--_de mortuis nil nisi bonum_. + +Why I married I don't know. + +The English girl of the class from which soldiers are drawn never +attracted me in the very least, and I simply could not have married one, +though a paragon of virtue and compendium of housewifely qualities. + +Admirable and pretty as Miss Higgs, Miss Bloggs, or Miss Muggins might +be, my youthful training prevented my seeing beyond her fringe, +finger-nails, figure, and aspirates, to her solid excellences;--and from +sergeants'-dances I returned quite heart-whole and still unplighted to +the Colonel's cook. But Dolores De Souza was different. + +There was absolutely nothing to offend the most fastidious taste in her +speech, appearance, or manners. She was convent-bred, accomplished, +refined, gentle, worthless and wicked. The good Sisters of the Society +of the Broken Heart had polished the exterior of the Eurasian orphan +very highly--but the polish was a thin veneer on very cheap and +unseasoned wood. + +It is a strange fact that, while I could respect the solid virtues of +the aspirateless Misses Higgs, Bloggs or Muggins, I could never have +married one of them; yet, while I knew Dolores to be a heartless flirt, +and more than suspected her to be of most unrigid principle, I was +infatuated with her dark beauty, her grace, her wiles and witchery--and +asked her to become my wife. + +The good Sisters of the Society of the Broken Heart had taught Dolores +to sing beautifully, to play upon the piano and the guitar, to +embroider, to paint mauve roses on pink tambourines and many other +useful arts, graces and accomplishments--but they had not taught her +_practical_ morality nor anything of cooking, marketing, plain sewing, +house-cleaning or anything else of house-keeping. However, having been +bred as I had been bred, I could take the form and let the substance go, +accept the shapely husks and shout not for the grain, and prefer a +pretty song, and a rose in black hair over a shell-like ear, to a square +meal. I fear the average Sergeant-Major would have beaten Dolores within +a week of matrimony, but I strove to make loss, discomfort, and +disappointment a discipline,--and music, silk dresses and daintiness an +aesthetic re-training to a barrack-blunted mind. + +In justice to Dolores I should make it clear that she was not of the +slatternly, dirty, lazy, half-breed type that pigs in a _peignoir_ from +twelve to twelve and snores again from midnight to midday. She was trim +and dainty, used good perfume or none, rose early and went in the +garden, loathed cheap and showy trash whether in dress, jewellery, or +furniture; and was incapable of wearing fine shoes over holey stockings +or a silk gown over dirty linen. No--there was nothing to offend the +fastidious about Dolores, but there was everything to offend the good +house-keeper and the moralist. + +Frequently she would provide no dinner in order that we might be +compelled to dine in public at a restaurant or a hotel, a thing she +loved to do, and she would often send out for costly sweets and pastry, +drink champagne (very moderately, I admit), and generally behave as +though she were the wife of a man of means. + +And she was an arrant, incorrigible, shameless flirt. + +Well--I do not know that a virtuous vulgar dowd is preferable to a +wicked winsome witch of refined habits and person, and I should probably +have gone quietly on to bankruptcy without any row or rupture, but for +Burker. Having been bred in a "gentle" home I naturally took the +attitude of "as you please, my dear Dolores" and refrained from bullying +when quiet indication of the inevitable end completely failed. Whether +she intended to act in a reasonable manner and show some wifely traits +when my L250 of legacy and savings was quite dissipated I do not know. +Burker came before that consummation. + +A number of gentlemen joined the Duri Volunteer Corps and formed a +Mounted Infantry troop, and, though I am a good horseman, I was not +competent to train the troop, as I had never enjoyed any experience of +mounted military work of any kind. So Sergeant Burker, late of the 54th +Lancers, was transferred to Duri as Instructor of the Mounted Infantry +Troop. Naturally I did what I could to make him comfortable and, till +his bungalow was furnished after a fashion, gave him our spare room. + +Sergeant Barker was the ideal Cavalryman and the ideal breaker of +hearts,--hearts of the Mary-Ann and Eliza-Jane order. + +He was a black-haired, blue-eyed Irishman with a heart as black as his +hair, and language as blue as his eye--a handsome, plausible, selfish, +wicked devil with scarcely a virtue but pride and high courage. I +disliked him at first sight, and Dolores fell in love with him equally +quickly, I am sure. + +I don't think he had a solitary gentlemanly instinct. + +Being desirous of learning Mounted Infantry work, I attended all his +drills, riding as troop-leader, and, between close attention to him and +close study of the drill-book, did not let the gentlemen in the ranks +know that, in the beginning, I knew as little about it as they did. + +And an uncommonly good troop he soon made of it, too. + +Of course it was excellent material, all good riders and good shots, and +well horsed. + +Burker and I were mounted by the R.H.A. Battery here, and the three +drills we held, weekly, were seasons of delight to a horse-lover like +myself. + +Now the horse I had was a high-spirited, powerful animal, and he +possessed the trait, very common among horses, of hating to be pressed +behind the saddle. Turning to look behind while "sitting-easy" one day I +rested my right hand on his back behind the saddle and he immediately +lashed out furiously with both hind legs. I did not realize for the +moment what was upsetting him--but quickly discovered that I had only to +press his back to send his hoofs out like stones from a sling. I then +remembered other similar cases and that I had also read of this curious +fact about horses--something to do with pressure on the kidneys I +believe. + +One day Burker was unexpectedly absent and I took the drill, finding +myself quite competent and _au fait_. + +The same evening I went to my wife's wardrobe, she being out, to try and +find the keys of the sideboard. I knew they frequently reposed in the +pocket of her dressing-gown. + +In the said pocket they were--and so was a letter in the crude large +handwriting of Sergeant Burker. + +I did not read it, but I did not see the necessity of a correspondence +between my wife and such a man as I knew Sergeant Burker to be. They met +often enough, in all conscience, to say what they might have to say to +each other. + +At dinner I remarked casually: "I shouldn't enter into a correspondence +with Burker if I were you, Dolly. His reputation isn't over savoury +and--" but, before I could say more, my wife was literally screaming +with rage, calling me "Spy," "Liar," "Coward," and demanding to know +what I insinuated and of what I accused her. I replied that I had +accused her of nothing at all, and merely offered advice in the matter +of correspondence with Burker. I explained how I had come to find the +letter and stated that I had not read it. + +"Then how do you know that we--" she began, and suddenly stopped. + +"That you--what?" I inquired. + +"Nothing," she said. + +At the next Sergeants' Dance at the Institute I did not like Burker's +manner to my wife at all. It was--well, amorous, and tinged with a shade +of proprietorship. I distinctly heard him call her "Dolly," and equally +distinctly saw an expressively affectionate look in her eyes as he +hugged her in the waltzes--whereof they indulged in no less than five. + +My position was awkward and unpleasant. I loathe a row or a scene +unspeakably--though I delight in fighting when that pastime is +legitimate--and I was brought into daily contact with the ruffian and I +disliked him intensely. + +I was very averse from the course of forbidding him the house and thus +insulting my wife by implication--since she obviously enjoyed his +society--and descending to pit myself against the greasy cad in a +struggle for a woman's favour, and that woman my own wife. Nor could I +conscientiously take the line of, "If she desires to go to the Devil let +her," for a man has as much responsibility for his wife as for his +children, and it is equally his duty to guide and control her and them. +Women may vote and may legislate for men--but on men they will ever +depend and rely. + +No, the position of carping, jealous husband was one that I could not +fill, and I determined to say nothing, do nothing and be +watchful--watchful, that is, to avoid exposing her to temptation. I did +my best, but I was away from home a good deal, visiting the out-station +detachments of the Corps. + +Then, one day, the wretched creature I called "butler" came to me with +an air of great mystery and said: "Sahib, Sergeant Burker Sahib sending +Mem Sahib bundle of flowers and _chitti_[53] inside and diamond ring +yesterday. His boy telling me and I seeing. He often coming here too +when Sahib out. Both wicked peoples." + + [53] Note. + +I raised my hand to knock his lies down his throat--and dropped it. They +were not lies, I knew, and the fellow had been faithful to me for many +years and--the folly of childish human vanity--I felt he knew I was a +"gentleman," and I liked him for it. + +I paid him his wages then and there, gave him a present and a good +testimonial and discharged him. He wept real tears and shook with sobs +of grief--easy grief, but very genuine. + +When Dolores came home from the Bandstand I said quietly: "Show me the +jewellery Burker sent you, Dolly. I am very much in earnest, so don't +bluster." + +She seemed about to faint and looked very frightened--perhaps my face +was more expressive than a gentleman's should be. + +"It was only a little thing for my birthday," she whined. "Can't I keep +it? Don't be a tyrant or a fool." + +"Your next birthday or your last?" I asked. "Please get it at once. +We'll settle matters quietly and finally." + +I fear the poor girl had visions of the doorstep and a closed door. Two, +perhaps, for I am sure Burker would not have taken her in if I had +turned her out, and she may have thought the same. + +It was a diamond ring, and the scoundrel must have given a couple of +months' pay for it--if he had paid for it at all. I thrust aside the +sudden conviction that Burker's own taste could not have been +responsible for its choice and that it was selected by my wife. + +"Why should he give you this, Dolores?" I asked. "Will you tell me or +must I go to him?" And then she burst into tears and flung herself at my +feet, begging for mercy. + +Mercy! + +_Qui s'excuse s'accuse_. + +What should I do? + +To cast her out was to murder her soul quickly and her body slowly, and +I could foresee her career with prophetic eye and painful clearness. + +And what could the Law do for me? + +Publish our shame and perhaps brand me that wretched thing--the +willingly deceived and complaisant husband. + +What could I do by challenging Burker? + +He was a champion man-at-arms, a fine boxer, and a younger, stronger +man, I should merely experience humiliation and defeat. What _could_ I +do? + +If I said, "Go and live with your Burker," I should be committing a +bigger crime than hers, for if he did take her in, it would not be for +long. + +I sat the night through, pondered the question carefully, looked at it +from all points of view and--decided that Burker must die. Also that he +must not drag me to jail or the scaffold as he went to his doom. If I +shot him and was punished, Dolores would become a--well, as I have said, +her soul would die quickly and her body slowly. I had married Dolores +and I must do what lay in my power to protect Dolores. But I simply +could not kill the hound in some stealthy secret manner and wait for +the footsteps of warrant-armed police for the rest of my life. + +What could I do? Or rather--for the question had narrowed to that--how +could I kill him? + +And as the sun struck upon my eyes at dawn, an idea struck upon my mind. + +I would leave it to Fate and if Fate willed it so, Burker should die. + +_If Burker stood behind my charger, Fate sat with down-turned thumb_. + +I would not seek the opportunity--but, by God, I would take it if it +offered. + +If it did not, I would go to Burker and say to him quietly: "Burker, you +must leave this station at once and never see or communicate with my +wife in any way. Otherwise I have to kill you, Burker--to execute you, +you understand." ... + +A native syce from the Artillery lines led my charger into the little +compound of my tiny bungalow. + +Having buckled on my belt I went out, patted him, and gave him a lump of +sugar. He nuzzled me for more, and, as he did so, I placed my hand on +his back, behind the saddle, and pressed. He lashed out wildly. + +I then trotted across the _maidan_[54] to the Volunteer Headquarters and +parade-ground. + + [54] Plain; level tract of ground. + +Several gentlemen of the Mounted Infantry were waiting about, some +standing by their horses, some getting bandoliers, belts, and rifles, +some cantering their horses round the ground. + +Sergeant Burker strode out of the Orderly Boom. + +"Morning, Smith," said he. "How's the Missus?" + +I looked him in the eye and made no reply. + +He laughed, as jeering, evil, and caddish a laugh as I have ever heard. +I almost forgot my purpose and had actually turned toward the armoury +for a rifle and cartridge when I remembered and controlled my rage. + +If I shot him, then and there, I must go to the scaffold or to jail +forthwith, and Dolores must inevitably go to a worse fate. Had I been +sure that she could have kept straight, Burker would have been shot, +then and there. + +"Fall in," he shouted, but did not mount his horse. + +The gentlemen assembled with their horses and faced him in line, +dismounted, I in front of the centre of the troop. How clearly I can see +every feature and detail of that morning's scene, and hear every word +and sound. + +"Tell off by sections," commanded Burker. + +"One, two, three, four--one, two, three, four...." + +There were exactly six sections. + +"Flanks of sections, proof." + +"Section leaders, proof." + +"Centre man, proof." + +"Prepare to mount." + +"Mount." + +"Sections right." + +"Sections left." + +The last two words were the last words Burker ever spoke. Passing on +foot along the line of mounted men, to inspect saddlery, accoutrements, +and the adjustment of rifle-buckets and slings, he halted immediately +behind me, where I sat on my charger in front of the centre of the +troop. + +I could not have placed him more exactly with my own hands. _Fate sat +with down-pointing thumb_. + +Turning round, as though to look at the troop, I rested my hand on my +horse's back--just behind the saddle--and pressed hard. He lashed out +with both hoofs and Sergeant Burker dropped--and never moved again. + +The base of his skull was smashed like an egg, and his back was broken +like a dry stick.... + +The terrible accident roused wide sympathy with the unfortunate man, the +local reporter used all his adjectives, and a military funeral was given +to the soldier who had died in the execution of his duty. + +On reaching home, after satisfying myself at the Station Hospital that +the man was dead, I said to my poor, pale and red-eyed wife:-- + +"Dolores, Sergeant Burker met with an accident this morning on parade. +He is dead. Let us never refer to him again." + +She fainted. + +I spent that night also in meditation, questioning myself and examining +my soul--with every honest endeavour to be not a self-deceiver. + +I came to the conclusion that I had acted rightly and in the only way in +which a gentleman could act. I had snatched Dolores from his foul +clutches, I had punished him without depriving Dolores of my protection, +and I had avenged the stain on my honour. + +"You have committed a treacherous cowardly murder," whispered the Fiend +in my ear. + +"You are a liar," I replied. "I did not fear the man and I took this +course solely on account of Dolores. I was strong enough to accept this +position--and to risk the accusation of murder, from my conscience, from +the Devil, or from man." + +Any doubt I might otherwise have had was forestalled and inhibited by +the obvious Fate that placed Burker in the one spot favourable to my +scheme of punishment. + +God had willed it? + +God had not prevented it. + +Surely God was consenting unto it.... + +And Dolores? I would forgive her and offer her the choice of remaining +with me or leaving me and receiving a half of my income and +possessions--both alternatives being contingent upon good conduct. + +At dawn I prepared tea for her, and entered our bedroom. Dolores had +wound a towel round her neck, twisted the ends tightly--and suffocated +herself. + +She had been dead for hours.... + +At the police inquiry, held the same day, I duly lied as to the virtues +of the "deceased," and the utter impossibility of assigning any reason +for the rash and deplorable act. The usual smug stereotyped verdict was +pronounced, and, in addition to expressing their belief that the suicide +was committed "while of unsound mind," the officials expressed much +sympathy with the bereaved husband. + +Dolores was buried that evening and I returned to an empty house. + +I believe opinion had been divided as to whether I was callous or +"stunned"--but the sight of her little shoes caused pains in my throat +and eyes. Had Burker been then alive I would have killed him with my +hands--and teeth. Yes, teeth. + +I spent that night in packing every possession and trace of Dolores into +her boxes, and then in trying to persuade myself that I should have +acted differently. + +I could not do so. I had acted for the best--so let God who gave me +free-will, intelligence, conscience and opportunity, approve the deed or +take the blame. + +And let God remember how that opportunity came so convincingly--so +impellingly--and if He would judge me and ask for my defence I would ask +him who sent Burker here, and who placed him on that fatal spot? + +Does God sit only in judgment? + +Does God calmly watch His creatures walking blindfold to the +Pit--struggling to tear away the bandage as they walk? Can He only +judge, and can He never help? + +"_Pray_?" + +Is God a petty-minded "jealous" God to be propitiated like the gods of +the heathen? + +Must we continually ask, or, not asking, not receive? + +And if we know not to ask aright and to demand the best and highest? + +Cannot the well-fed, well-read, well-paid Chaplain give advice? + +"_God knoweth best. Ask unceasingly. Pray always_." + +_Why_?--if. He knows best, is All Merciful, All Powerful? + +"_Praise_?" + +Is God a child, a savage, a woman? Shall I offer adulation that would +sicken _me_. + +"_God is our Father which art in heaven_." + +Would I have my son praise me to my face continually--or at all. Would I +compel him to pester me with demands for what he desired,--good, bad and +indifferent? + +And would I give him what he asked regardless of what was best for +him--or say, "If you ask not, you receive not?" Give me a God finer and +greater and juster and nobler than myself--something higher than the +Chaplain's jealous, capricious, inconsequent and illogical God. +Anthropomorphism! + +Is there a God at all? + +I shall soon know. + +If so-- + + Oh Thou, who man of baser earth didst make + And ev'n with Paradise devised the Snake, + For all the Sin the face of wretched man + Is black with--Man's forgiveness give--and take! + +At dawn I said aloud:-- + +"This Chapter is closed. The story of Burker and Dolores is written. I +may now strive to forget." + +I was wrong. + +Major Jackson of the R.A.M.C. came to see me soon after daylight. He +gave me an opiate and I slept all that day and night. I went on parade +next morning, fresh, calm, and cool--and saw _Burker riding toward the +group of gentlemen who were awaiting the signal to "fall in"_. + +I say I was fresh, calm, and cool. + +I was. + +And there was Burker--looking exactly as in life, save for a slight +nebulosity, a very faint vagueness of outline, and a hint of +transparency. + +I had been instructed by the Adjutant to assume the post of Instructor +(as the end of the Mounted Infantry drill season was near)--and I blew +the "rally" on my whistle as many of the gentlemen were riding about, +and shouted the command: "Fall in". + +Twenty living men and one dead faced me, twenty dismounted and one +mounted. I called the corporal in charge of the armoury. + +"How many on parade?" I asked. + +He looked puzzled, counted, and said:-- + +"Why--twenty, ain't there?" + +I numbered the troop. + +Twenty--and Burker. + +"Tell off by sections." + +Five sections--and Burker. + +"Sections right." + +A column of five sections--and Burker, in the rear. + +I called out the section-leader of Number One section. + +"Are the sections correctly proved?" I asked, and added: "Put the troop +back in line and tell-off again". + +"Five sections, correct," he reported. + +I held that drill, with five sections of living men, and a single file +of dead, who manoeuvred to my word. + +When I gave the order "With Numbers Three for action dismount," or +"Right-hand men, for action dismount," Burker remained mounted. When I +dismounted the whole troop, Burker remained mounted. Otherwise he +drilled precisely as Number Twenty-one would have drilled in a troop of +twenty-one men. + +Was I frightened? I do not know. + +At first my heart certainly pounded as though it would leap from my +body, and I felt dazed, lost, and shocked. + +I think I _was_ frightened--not of Burker so much as of the unfamiliar, +the unknown, the impossible. + +How would you feel if your piano suddenly began to play of itself? You +would be alarmed and afraid probably, not frightened of the piano, but +of the fact. + +A door could not frighten you--but you would surely be alarmed at its +persistently opening, each time you shut, locked, and bolted it, if it +acted thus. + +Of Burker I had no fear--but I was perturbed by the _fact_ that the dead +could ride with the living. + +When I gave the order "Dismiss" at the end of the parade Burker rode +away, as he had always done, in the direction of his bungalow. + +Returning to my lonely house, I sat me down and pondered this appalling +event that had come like a torrent, sweeping away familiar landmarks of +experience, idea, and belief. I was conscious of a dull anger against +Burker and then against God. + +Why should He allow Burker to haunt me?... + +Why should Evil triumph?... + +_Was_ I haunted? Or was it, after all, but a hallucination--due to +grief, trouble, and the drug of the opiate? + +I sat and brooded until I thought I could hear the voices of Burker and +Dolores in converse. + +This I knew to be hallucination, pure and simple, and I went to see my +friend (if he will let me call him what he is in the truest and highest +sense) Major Jackson of the R.A.M.C. + +He took me for a long ride, kept me to dinner, and manufactured a job +for me--a piece of work that would occupy and tire me. + +He assured me that the Burker affair was pure hallucination and staked +his professional reputation that the image of Burker came upon my retina +from within and not from without. "The shock of the deaths of your wife +and your friend on consecutive days has unhinged you, and very naturally +so," he said. + +Of course I did not tell him that I had killed Burker, though I +should have liked to do so. I felt I had no right to put him in the +position of having to choose between denouncing me and condoning a +murder--compounding a felony. + +Nor did I see any reason for confessing to the Police what I had done +(even though Dolores was dead) and finishing my career on the scaffold. + +One owes something to one's ancestors as well as to oneself. Well, +perhaps it was a hallucination. I would wait. + +At the next drill Burker was present and rode as Number Three in Section +Six. + +As there were twenty-three (living) on parade I ordered Number +Twenty-three to ride as Number Four of his section and leave a blank +file. + +Burker rode in that blank file and drilled so, throughout--save that he +would not dismount. + +Once, as the troop rode in column of sections, I fell to the rear and, +coming up behind, struck with all my might at that slightly nebulous +figure, with its faint vagueness of outline and hint of transparency. + +My heavy cutting-whip whistled--and touched nothing. I was as one who +beats the air. Section Six must have thought me mad.... Twice again the +dead man drilled with the living, and each time I described what +happened to Major Jackson. + +"It is a persistent hallucination," said he; "you must go on leave." + +"I won't run from Burker, nor from a hallucination," I replied. + +Then came the end. + +At the next drill, twenty-one gentlemen were present and Number +Twenty-one, the Sessions Judge of Duri, a Scot, kept staring with looks +of amazement and alarm at Burker, who rode as Number Four on his flank, +making an odd file into a skeleton section. I was certain that he saw +Burker. + +As the gentlemen "dismissed" after parade, the Judge rode up to me and, +with a white face, demanded:-- + +"Who the devil was that rode with me as Number Twenty-four? It was--it +was--like--Sergeant Burker." + +"It _was_ Sergeant Burker, Sir," said I. + +"I knew it was," he replied, and added: "Man, you and I are fey." + +"Will you tell Major Jackson of this, Sir?" I begged. "He knows I have +seen Burker's ghost here before, and tells me it is a hallucination." + +"I'll go and see him now." he replied. "He is an old friend of mine, +and--he's a damned good doctor. Man--you and I are fey." He rode to +where his trap, with its spirited cob, was awaiting him, dismounted and +drove off. + +As everybody knows, Mr. Blake of the Indian Civil Service, Sessions +Judge of Duri, was thrown from his trap and killed. It happened five +minutes after he had said to me, with a queer look in his eyes, and a +queer note in his voice, "Man! you and I are fey".... So it is no +hallucination and I am haunted by Burker's ghost. Very good. I will +fight Burker on his own ground. + +My ghost shall haunt Burker's ghost--or I shall be at peace. + +Though the religion of the Chaplain has failed me, the religion of my +Mother, taught to me at her knee, has implanted in me an ineradicable +belief in the ultimate justice of things, and the unquenchable hope of +"somehow good". + +I am about to go before my Maker or to obliteration and oblivion. If the +former, I am prepared to say to Him: "You made me a man. I have played +the man. I look to you for justice, and that is--compensation and not +'forgiveness'. Much less is it punishment. You have treated me ill and +given me no help. You have bestowed free-_will_ without free-_dom_. +Compensate me or know Yourself unjust." + +To a servant or child who spoke so to me and with equal reason, I would +reply:-- + +"Compensation is due to you and not 'forgiveness'--much less +punishment," and I would act accordingly.... Why should I cringe to +God--and why should He love a cringer more than I do? + +God help Men and Women--and such Children as are doomed to grow up to be +Men and Women. + +As I finish this sentence I shall put my revolver in my mouth and seek +Justice or Peace.... + + * * * * * + +"Bad luck," murmured Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison, "that was the man of all +men for me! A gentleman, wishful to die.... That is the sort that _does_ +things when swords are out and bullets fly. Seeks a gory grave and gets +a V.C. instead. He and Mike Malet-Marsac and I would have put a polish +on the new Gungapur Fusiliers.... Rough luck...." + +He was greatly disappointed, for his experiences in the bazaars, +market-places, secret-meeting houses, and the bowers of Hearts' +Delights,--the Rialtos of Gungapur (he disguised, now as an Afghan +horse-dealer, now as a sepoy, now as a Pathan money-lender, again as a +gold-braided, velvet waistcoated, swaggering swashbuckler from the +Border)--his experiences were disquieting, were such as to make him push +on preparations, perfect plans, and work feverishly at the "polishing" +of his re-organized Corps. + +Also the reports of his familiar, a Somali yclept Moussa Isa, were +disquieting, disturbing to a lover of the Empire who foresaw the Empire +at war in Europe. + +Moussa Isa also knew that there was talk among Pathan horse-dealers and +_budmashes_ of the coming of one Ilderim the Weeper, a mullah of great +influence and renown, and talk, moreover, among men of other race, of a +Great Conspiracy. + +Moussa was bidden to take service as a mill-coolie in one of Colonel +Dearman's mills, and to report on the views and attitude of the +thousands who laboured therein. This he did and there learnt many +interesting facts. + + + +Sec. 4. MR. AND MRS. CORNELIUS GOSLING-GREEN. + + +It was Sunday--and therefore John Bruce, the Engineering College +Professor, was exceptionally busy. On a-week-day he only had to deliver +his carefully prepared lectures, interview students, read and return +essays, take the chair at meetings of college societies, coach one or +two "specialists," superintend the games on the college gymkhana ground, +interview seekers after truth and perverters of the same, write letters +on various matters of college business, visit the hostel, set question +papers and correct answers, attend common-room meetings, write articles +for the college magazine and papers for the Scientific, Philosophical, +Shakespearean, Mathematical, Debating, Literary, Historical, Students', +Old Boys', or some other "union" and, if God willed, get a little +exercise and private study at his beloved "subject" and invention, +before preparing for the morrow. + +On Sundays, the thousand and one things crowded out of the programme +were to be cleared up, his home mail was to be written, and then arrears +of work had to be attacked. + +At four o'clock he addressed Roy Pittenweem and Mrs. MacDougall, his +dogs, and said:-- + +"There's a bloomin' bun-snatch somewhere, you fellers, don't it?". +Though a Professor and one of the most keen and earnest workmen in +India, his own college blazers were not quite worn out, and Life, the +great Artist, had not yet done much sketching on the canvas of his +face--in spite of his daily contact with the Science Professor, William +Greatorex Bonnett, B.A., widely known as the Mad Hatter, the greatest +of whose many great achievements is his avoidance of death at the hands +of his colleagues and acquaintance. + +Receiving no reply beyond a wink and a waggle, he dropped his blue +pencil, rose, and went to the table sacred to litter; and from a wild +welter of books, pipes, papers, golf-balls, hats, cigar-boxes, +dog-collars, switches, cartridges and other sediment, he extracted a +large gilt-edged card and studied it without enthusiasm or bias. + +"Large coat of arms," he murmured--"patience--no--a pay-sheet on a +monument asking for time; item a hand, recently washed; ditto, a dickey +bird--possibly pigeon plucked proper or gull argent; guinea-pig +regardant and expectant; supporters, two bottliwallahs rampant. Crest, a +bum-boat flottant, and motto '_Cinq-cento-percentum_'. All done in gold. +Likewise in gold and deboshed gothic, the legend 'Sir and Lady Fuggilal +Potipharpar, At Home. To meet Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P. +Five p.m. C.T.' ... Now what the devil, Roy Pittenweem, _is_ C.T.? Is it +'Curious Time' or 'Cut for Trumps' or a new decoration for gutter +plutocrats? It _might_ mean 'Calcutta Time,' mightn't it, as the +egregious Phossy and his gang would have it? Well, we'll go and look +upon the Cornmealious Gosling-Green, M.P.'s, and chasten our soul from +sinful pride--ain't it, Mrs. MacDougall?" and the Professor strolled +across to the Sports Club for a cup of tea. + +In the midst of cheery converse with a non-moral and unphilosophic +Professor of Moral Philosophy, a fat youth of the name of Augustus +Grobble whose life was one long picturesque pose, he sprang to his feet, +remarking: "I go, Augustus, I am bidden to behold some prize +Gosling-Greens or something, at 5 p.m., D.V. or D.T. or C.T. or L.S.D. +or otherwise. Perhaps it was S.T. which means 'Standard Time,' and as I +said, I go, Augustus." + +Augustus Grobble was understood to return thanks piously.... + +"Taxi, Sahib?" inquired the messenger-boy at the door. + +"Go to," said the Professor. "Also go call me a _tikka-gharri_[55] and +select a _very_ senior horse, blind, angular, withered, wilted, and +answering to the name, most obviously, of Skin-and-Grief--lest I be +taken by the Grizzly-Goslings for a down-trodden plutocrat and a +brother--and not seen for the fierce and 'aughty oppressor that I am." + + [55] Public conveyance. + +"Sahib?" + +"_Tikka-gharri lao_,[56] you lazy little 'ound! Don't I speak plain +English?" The Professor made it a practice to "rot" when not +working--hoping thus even in India to retain sanity and the broad and +wholesome outlook, for he was a very short-tempered person, easily +roused to dangerous wrath. + + [56] Bring. + +A carriage, upholding a pony who, in return, spasmodically moved the +carriage which gave evidence of having been where moths break through +and steal, lumbered into the Club garden, and the Professor, imploring +the jehu not to let the pony "die on him" in the Hibernian sense of the +expression, gingerly entered. + +"Convey me to the gilded Potipharparian 'alls, Arthur," said he. + +"Sahib?" + +"Why _don't_ you listen? _Palangur Hill ki pas_[57] And don't forget +you've to get me there at 5 p.m. C.T. or S.T.--I leave it to you, +partner." + + [57] To. + +On arrival, the Professor concluded that if he had arrived at 5 p.m. +C.T. he ought to have come at 5 p.m. S.T., or vice versa; as what he +termed 'the show' was evidently about over. Fortune favours all sorts of +people. + +His hostess, who looked as though she had come straight out of the Bible +_via_ Bond Street, and his host, who looked as though he had never come +out of Petticoat Lane at all, both accused him of being unable to work +out the problem of "Find Calcutta Time given the Standard Time," and he +professed to be proud to be able to acknowledge the truth of the +compliment. + +"Come and be presented to Meester and Meesers Carneelius Garsling-Green, +M.P.," said the lady, waddling before him; and her husband echoed:-- + +"Oah, yess. Come and be presented to Meester and Meesers +Garsling-Green," waddling after him. + +Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., proved to be a tall, drooping, +melancholy creature, with "Dundreary" whiskers, reach-me-down suit of +thick cloth, wrong kind of tie, thickish boots, and no presence. Without +"form" and void. + +Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green was a Severe Person, tiny, hard-featured +and even more garrulous than her husband, who watched her anxiously and +nervously as he answered any question put in her presence.... + +"And, oh, why, _why_ are not you Mohammedans _loyal_?" said Mrs. +Cornelius Gosling-Green, to a magnificent-looking specimen of the +Mussulman of the old school--stately, venerable, courteous and +honourable--who stood near, looking as though he wondered what the devil +he was doing in that galley. + +Turning from his friend, Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan, +a fine Pathan, "Loyal, Madam! _Loyal_! Believe me we Mohammedans are +most intensely and devotedly loyal," he replied. "You have indeed been +misled. Though you are only spending a month in India for collecting the +materials for your book or pamphlet, you must really learn _that_ much. +We Mohammedans are as loyal as the English themselves.--More loyal than +some in fact," he added, with intent. The Pathan smiled meaningly. + +"Ah, that's just it. I mean 'Why aren't you Mohammedans _loyal to poor +India_?'" + +The man turned and left the marquee and the garden without another word. + +"Poor _bleeding_ India," corrected the Professor. + +"And are _you_ a friend and worker for India?" continued the lady, +turning to him and eyeing him with severity. + +"I am. I do my humble possible in my obscure capacity, Mrs. +Grisly-Gosling," he replied. "I _beg_ your pardon, Mrs. +Grossly-Grin----that is--er--Gosling-Green, I _should_ say." + +Be sure your sins will find you out. Through wilful perversion of the +pleasing name the Professor had rendered himself incapable of +enunciating it. + +"And what do _you_ do for India,--write, speak, organize, subscribe or +what?" asked the lady with increasing severity. + +"I work." + +"In what capacity?" + +"I am a professor at the Government Engineering College, here in +Gungapur." + +"O-h-h-h-h! You're one of the overpaid idlers who bolster up the +Bureaucracy and batten on the....'" + +"Allow me to assure you that I neither bolster, batten, nor bureau, Mrs. +Grizzling--I mean _Gosling_ Green. Nor do I talk through my hat. I----" +the Professor was beginning to get angry and to lose control. + +"Perhaps you are one of us in disguise--a Pro-Native?" + +"I am intensely Pro-Native." + +The tall Pathan stared at the Professor. + +"Oh, _good!_ I _beg_ your pardon! Cornelius, this gentleman is a +Government professor and is _with us!_" said this female of the M.P. +species. + +"That's right," gushed the Gosling. "We want a few in the enemy's camp +both to spy out their weakness and to embarrass them. Now about this +University business. I am going to take it up. That history affair now! +_Scandalous!_ I _cannot_ tell you what a wave of indignation swept over +England when that syllabus was drawn up. Nothing truly _Liberal_ about +the whole course, much less Radical. I at once said: '_I_ will see this +righted. _I_ will go to India, and _I_ will beard the....'" + +"I think it was _I_ who said it, Cornelius," remarked his much better +half, coldly. + +"Yes, my dear Superiora, yes. Now with your help I think we can do +something, Professor. Good. This _is_ providential. We shall be able to +embarrass them now! Will you write me----" + +"You are going a little too fast, I think," said the Professor. "I am a +'Pro-Native' and a servant of the Pro-Native Government of India. As +such, I don't think I can be of any service to twenty-one-day visitors +who wish to 'embarrass' the best friends of my friends the Natives, even +supposing I were the sort of gentle Judas you compliment me by imagining +me. I----" + +"You distinctly say you are Pro-Native and then----" + +"I repeat I am intensely Pro-Native, and so are the Viceroy, the +Governors, the entire Civil Service, the Educational Service, the Forest +Service, the P.W.D., the Medical Service, the Army, and every other +Service and Department in India as well as every decent man in India. We +are _all_ Pro-Native, and all doing our best in our respective spheres, +in spite of a deal of ignorant and officious interference and attempted +'embarrassment' at the hands of the self-seeking, the foolish, the +busy-body, the idle--not to mention the vicious. What a _charming_ day +it is. I have so enjoyed the honour of meeting you." + + * * * * * + +"Well, my Scroobious Bird! And have they this day roasted in India such +a Gosling as shall never be put out?" inquired the non-moral and +unphilosophic Professor of Moral Philosophy, a little later. + +"No, my Augustus," was the reply. "It's a quacking little gosling, and +won't lead to any great commotion m the farm-yard. Nasty little +bird--like a _sat-bai_ or whatever they call those appalling things +'seven-sister' birds, aren't they, that chatter and squeak all day." + +"Have a long drink and tell us all about it," replied Mr. Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble. + +"Oh, same old game on the same old stage. Same old players. Leading lady +and gent changed only. Huge great hideous bungalow, like a Goanese +wedding-cake, in a vast garden of symmetrically arranged blue and red +glazed 'art' flower-pots. Lofty room decorated with ancestral portraits +done by Mr. Guzzlebhoy Fustomji Paintwallah; green glass chandeliers and +big blue and white tin balls; mauve carpet with purple azure roses; +wall-paper, bright pink with red lilies and yellow cabbages; immense +mouldy mirrors, and a tin alarm clock. Big crowd of all the fly-blown +rich knaves of the place who have got more than they want out of +Government or else haven't got enough. Only novelty was a splendid +Pathan chap, got-up in English except for the conical cap and puggri. +Extraordinarily like Ross-Ellison, except that he had long black Pathan +hair on his shoulders. Been to England; barrister probably, and seemed +the most viciously seditious of the lot. Silly ignorant Goslings in the +middle saying to Brahmins, 'And you are Muscleman, aren't you, or are +you a Dhobi?' and to Parsis, 'I suppose you High Caste gentlemen have to +bathe _every_ day?' shoving their awful ignorance under the noses of +everybody, and inquiring after the healths of the 'chief wives'. Silly +fatuous geese!--and then talking the wildest piffle about the 'burning +question of the hour' and making the seditious rotters groan at their +ineptitude and folly, until they cheer them up sudden-like with a bit +of dam' treason and sedition they ought to be jailed for. _Jailed_. I +nearly threw a fit when the old geezer, in a blaze of diamonds and +glory, brought up old Phossy and presented him to the Gander, and he +murmured:-- + +"'My _deah_ friend,' as Phossy held on to his paw in transports, 'to +think of their casting _you_ into jail,' and old Mother Potiphar +squeaked: _'Oh, this is not the forger of that name--but the eminent +politeecian'_. But poor Gosly had thought he had been a political +prisoner! Meant no offence. And then some little squirt of an editor +primed him with lies about the University and the new syllabus, and +straightway the Gander tried to get me on the 'embarrass the Government' +lay, and talked as though he knew all about it. 'I'll get some of the +ladies of my committee sent out here as History-lecturers at your +University,' says he. 'They'll teach pure Liberal History and inculcate +true ideas of liberty and self-government.' I wanted to go outside and +be ill. Good old 'Paget M.P.'--takes up a 'Question' and writes a silly +pamphlet on it and thinks he's said the last word.--Written +thousands.--Don't matter so long as he does it in England.--Just the +place for him nowadays.--But when he feels he's shoved out of the +lime-light by a longer-haired Johnny, it's rough luck that he should try +and get back by spending his blooming committee's money coming here and +deludin' the poor seditionist and seducin' your Hatter from his +allegiance to his salt.... Awful old fraud really--no ability whatever. +Came to my college to spout once, in my time. Lord! Still he was a +guest, and we let him go. Run by his missus really, I think. Why can't +she stop at home and hammer windows? They say she went and asked the +Begum of Bhopal to join her in a 'mission and crusade'. Teach the Zenana +Woman and Purdah Lady to Come Forth instead of Bring Forth. Come Forth +and smash windows. Probably true. Silly Goslings. Drop 'em.... What did +you think of our bowling yesterday? With anything like a wicket your +College should be...." + + * * * * * + +Entering his lonely and sequestered bungalow that evening Mir Ilderim +Dost Mahommed changed his Pathan dress for European dining-kit, removed +his beard and wig, and became Mr. Robin Ross-Ellison. After dinner he +wrote to the eminent Cold weather Visitor to India, Mr. Cornelius +Gosling-Green, as follows-- + +"DEAR SIR, + +"As I promised this afternoon, when you graciously condescended to +honour me with your illuminating conversation, I enclose the papers +which I guaranteed would shed some light on certain aspects of Indian +conditions, and which I consider likely to give you food for thought. + +"As I was myself educated in India, was brought up to maturity with +Indian students, and have lived among them in many different places, I +may claim to know something about them. As a class they are gentle, +affectionate, industrious, well-meaning and highly intelligent. They are +the most malleable of human metal, the finest material for the sculptor +of humanity, the most impressionable of wax. In the right hands they can +be moulded to anything, by the right leader led to any height. And +conversely, of them a devil can make fiends. By the wrong leader they +can be led down to any depth. + +"The crying need of India is noble men to make noble men of these fine +impressionable youths. Read the enclosed and take it that the writer +(who wrote this recently in Gungapur Jail) is typical of a large class +of misled, much-to-be-pitied youths, wrecked and ruined and +destroyed--their undoing begun by an unspeakably false and spurious +educational ideal, and completed by the writings, and the spoken words +of heartless unscrupulous scoundrels who use them to their own vile +ends. + +"Read, Sir, and realize how truly noble, useful and beautiful is your +great work of endeavouring to embarrass our wicked Government, to weaken +its prestige here and in England, to encourage its enemies, to increase +discontent and unrest, to turn the thoughts of students to matters +political, and, in short, to carry on the good work of the usual +Self-advertising Visitation M.P. + +"Humbly thanking your Honour, and wishing your Honour precisely the +successes and rewards that your Honour deserves, + +"I remain, + +"The dust of your Honour's feet, + +"ILDERIM DOST MAHOMMED." + +And Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., read as follows:-- + +... And so I am to be hanged by the neck till I am dead, am I? And for a +murder which I never committed, and in the perpetration of which I had +no hands? Is it, my masters? I trow so. But I can afford to spit--for I +did commit a murder, nevertheless, a beautiful secret murder that no one +could possibly ever bring to my home or cast in my tooth. + +"Well, well! Hang me and grin in sleeve--and I will laugh on other side +of face while dancing on nothing--for if you think you are doing me in +eye, I know I have done you in eye! + +"Yes. _I_ murdered Mr. Spensonly, the Chief Secretary of the Nuddee +River Commission. + +"As the Latin-and-Greeks used to say, '_Solo fesit_'! + +"You think Mr. Spensonly died of plague? So he did. And who caused him +to have plague? In short, who _plagued_ him? (Ha! Ha! An infinite jest!) +You shall know all about it and about, as Omar says, for I am going now +to write my autobiography of myself, as all great so-called Criminals +have done, for the admiration of mankind and the benefit of posterity. +And my fellow-brothers and family-members shall proudly publish it with +my photo--that of a great Patriot Hero and second Mazzini, Robespierre, +Kossuth, Garibaldi, Wallace, Charlotte Corday, Kosciusko, and Mr. Robert +Bruce (of spider fame). + +"And I shall welcome death and embrace the headsman ere making last +speech and dying confession. Having long desired to know what lies +Beyond, I shall make virtue of necessity and seize opportunity (of +getting to know) to play hero and die gamish. + +"Not like the Pathan murderer who walked about in front of condemned +cell with Koran balanced on head, crying to his Prophet to save him, and +defying Englishes to touch him. Of course they cooked his geese, Koran +or not. One warder does more than many Prophets in Gungapur Jail. (He! +He! Quite good epigram and nice cynicality of educated man.) The +degraded and unpolished fellow decoyed two little girls into empty house +to steal their jewellery, and cut off fingers and noses and ears to get +rings and nose-jewels and ear-drops, and left to die. Holy Fakir, +gentleman of course! Pooh! and Bah! for all holy men. I give spurnings +to them all for fools, knaves, or hypocrites. There are no gods any more +for educated gentleman, except himself, and that's very good god to +worship and make offering to (Ha! Ha! What a wit will be lost to the +silly world when it permits itself to lose me.) + +"Well, to return to the sheep, as the European proverb has it. I was +born here in Gungapur, which will also have honour of being my +death-and-cremation place, of poor but honest parent on thirty rupees a +mensem. He was very clever fellow and sent five sons to Primary School, +Middle School, High School and Gungapur Government College at cost of +over hundred rupees a month, all out of his thirty rupees a mensem. He +always used proverb 'Politeness lubricates wheels of life and palm +also,' and he obliged any man who made it worth his while. But he fell +into bad odours at hands of Mr. Spensonly owing to folly of +bribing-fellow sending cash to office and the letter getting into Mr. +Spensonly's post-bag and opening by mistake. + +"But the Sahib took me up into his office to soften blow to progenitor +and that shows he was a bad man or his luck would not have been to take +me in and give chance to murder him. + +"My good old paternal parent made me work many hours each night, and +though he knew nothing of the subjects he could read English and would +hear all my lessons and other brothers', and we had to say Skagger Rack, +Cattegat, Scaw Fell and Helvellyn, and such things to him, and he would +abuse us if we mis-arranged the figures and letters in CaH2O2 and +H2SO4 and all those things in bottles. Before the Matriculation +Examination he made a Graduate, whom he had got under his thumb-nail, +teach us all the answers to all the back questions in all subjects till +we knew them all by heart, and also made us learn ten long essays by +heart so as to make up the required essay out of parts of them. He +nearly killed my brother by starvation (saving food as well as punishing +miscreant) for failing--the only one of us who ever failed in any +examination--which he did by writing out all first chapter of Washington +Irving for essay, when the subject was 'Describe a sunrise in the +Australian back-blocks'. As parent said, he could have used 'A moonlight +stroll by the sea-shore' and change the colour from silver to golden. +But the fool was ill--so ill that he tried to kill himself and had not +the strength. He said he would rather go to the missionaries' hell, full +of Englishes, than go on learning _Egbert, Ethelbald, Ethelbert, +Ethelwulf, Ethelred, Alfred, Edward the Elder, Edred, Edwy, Edgar, +Ethelred the Unready_, and _If two triangles have two sides of the one +equal to two angles of the other each to each and the sides so subtended +equal then shall the bases or fourth sides be equal each to each or be +isosceles_. + +"Well, the progenitor kept our noses in the pie night and day and we all +hated the old papa piously and wished he and we and all teachers and +text-books were burned alive. + +"But we were very much loved by everybody as we were so learned and +clever, and whenever the Collector or anybody came to School, the Head +Master used to put one of us in each room and call on us to answer +questions and recite and say capes and bays without the map, and other +clever things; and when my eldest brother left I had to change coat with +another boy and do it twice sometimes, in different rooms. + +"Sometimes the Educational Inspector himself would come, but then +nothing could be done, for he would not ask questions that were always +asked and were in the book, like the teachers and Deputy Inspectors did, +but questions that no one knew and had to be thought out then and there. +That is no test of Learning--and any fool who has not troubled to mug +his book by heart might be able to answer such questions, while the man +who had learnt every letter sat dumb. + +"I hated the school and the books I knew by heart, but I loved Mr. +Ganeshram Joshibhai. He was a clever cunning man, and could always tweak +the leg of pompous Head Master when he came to the room, and had +beautiful ways of cheating him when he came to examine--better than +those of the other teachers. + +"Before we had been with him a month he could tell us things while being +examined, and no one else knew he was doing it. The initial letters of +each word made up the words he wanted to crib to us, and when he +scratched his head with the right hand the answer was 'No,' while with +the left hand it was 'Yes'. And the clever way he taught us sedition +while teaching us History, and appearing to praise the English! + +"He would spend hours in praising the good men who rebelled and fought +and got Magnum Charter and disrespected the King and cheeked the +Government and Members of Council. We knew all about Oliver Cromwell, +Hampden, Pim, and those crappies, and many a boy who had never heard of +Wolsey and Alfred the Great knew all about Felton the jolly fine patriot +who stabbed the Member of Council, Buckingham Esquire, in back. + +"We learnt whole History book at home and he spent all History lessons +telling us about Plots, all the English History Plots and foreign too, +and we knew about the man who killed Henry of Navarre, as well as about +the killing of French and American Presidents of to-day. He showed +always why successful plots succeeded and the others failed. And he gave +weeks to the American Independence War and the French Revolution. + +"And all the Indian History was about the Mutiny and how and why it +failed, when he was not showing us how the Englishes have ruined and +robbed India, and comparing the Golden Age of India (when no cow ever +died and there was never famine, plague, police nor taxes) with the +miserable condition of poor bleeding India to-day. + +"He was a fine fellow and so clever that we were almost his worshippers. +But I am not writing his autobiography but my own, so let him lapse +herewith into posterity and well-merited oblivious. + +"At the College when we could work no longer, we who had never learnt +crickets and tennis and ping-pongs, would take a nice big lantern with +big windows in four sides of it, and sit publicly in the middle of the +grass at the Gardens (with our books for a blind) and make speech to +each other about Mother India and exhort each other to join together in +a secret society and strike a blow for the Mother, and talk about the +heroes who had died on the scaffolding for her, or who were languishing +in chokey and do _poojah_ to their photos. But the superior members did +no _poojah_ to anything. Then came the Emissary in the guise of a holy +man (and I thought it the most dangerous disguise he could have assumed, +for I wonder the police do not arrest every sannyasi and fakir on +suspicion) and brought us the Message. And he took us to hear the blind +Mussulman they call Ilderim the Weeper. + +"All was ready and nothing lacked but the Instrument. + +"Would any of us achieve eternal fame and undying glory by being the +next Instrument? + +"We wouldn't. No jolly fear, and thanks awfully. + +"But we agreed to make a strike at the College and to drop a useless +Browning pistol where it would be found, and in various other ways to be +unrestful. And one of us, whom the Principal would not certify to sit +for his F.E. and was very stony hard-up, joined the Emissary and went +away with him to be a Servant and perhaps an Instrument later on (if he +could not get a girl with a good dowry or a service of thirty rupees a +mensem), he was so hungry and having nothing for belly. + +"Yes, as Mr. Ganeshram Joshibhai used to say, that is what the British +Government does for you--educates you to be passed B.A. and educated +gent., and then grudges to give you thirty rupees a mensem and expects +you to go searching for employment and food to put in belly! Can B.A. +work with hands like _maistri_? + +"Then there came the best of all my friends, a science-knowing gentleman +who gave all his great talents to bomb. And the cream of all the milky +joke was that he had learnt all his science free, from Government, at +school and college, and he not only used his knowledge to be first-class +superior anarchist but he got chemicals from Government own laboratory. + +"His brother was in Government Engineering College and between them they +did much--for one could make the bomb and the other could fill it. + +"But they are both to be hanged at the same time that I am, and I do not +grudge that I am to be innocently hanged for their plot and the blowing +up of the _bhangi_ by mistake for the Collector, for I have long aspired +to be holy martyr in Freedom's sacred cause and have photo in newspapers +and be talked about. + +"Besides, as I have said, I am not being done brown, as I murdered Mr. +Spensonly, the Engineer. + +"How I hated him! + +"Why should he be big and strong while I am skinny and feeble--owing to +night-and-day burning midnight candle at both ends and unable to make +them meet? + +"Besides did he not bring unmerited dishonour on grey hairs of poor old +progenitor by finding him out in bribe-taking? Did he not bring my +honoured father's aforesaying grey hairs in sorrow to reduced pension? + +"Did he not upbraid and rebuke, nay, reproach me when I made grievous +little errors and backslippers? + +"A thousand times Yea. + +"But I should never have murdered him had I not caught the Plague, so +out of evil cometh good once more. + +"The Plague came to Gungapur in its millions and we knew not what to do +but stood like drowning man splitting at a straw. + +"Superstitious Natives said it was the revenge of Goddess Kali for not +sacrificing, and superstitious Europeans said it was a microbe created +by their God to punish unhygienic way of living. + +"Knowing there are no gods of any sort I am in a position to state that +it was just written on our foreheads. + +"To make confusion worse dumbfounded the Government of course had to +seize horns of dilemma and trouble the poor. They had all cases taken to +hospital and made segregation and inspection camps. They disinfected +houses and burnt rags and even purdah women were not allowed to die in +bosom of family. Of course police stole lakhs of rupees worth of clothes +and furniture and said it was infected. And many good men who were +enemies of Government were falsely accused of being plague-stricken and +were dragged to hospital and were never seen again. + +"Terrible calamities fell upon our city and at last it nearly lost me +myself. I was seized, dragged from my family-bosom, cast into hospital +and cured. And in hospital I learned from fellow who was +subordinate-medical that rats get plague in sewers and cesspools and +when they die of it their fleas must go elsewhere for food, and so hop +on to other rat and give that poor chap plague too, by biting him with +dirty mouths from dead rat, and then he dies and so _in adfinitum_, as +the poet has it. But suppose no other rat is handy, what is poor hungry +flea to do? When you can't get curry, eat rice! When flea can't get rat +he eats man--turns to nastier food. (He! He!) + +"So when flea from plague-stricken rat jumps on to man and bites him, +poor fellow gets plague--_bus_.[58] + + [58] Finale, enough, the end. + +"Didn't friends and family-members skeddaddle and bunk when they saw rat +after I told them all that! But I didn't care, I had had plague once, +and one cannot get it twice. Not one man in thousand recovers when he +has got it, but I did. Old uneducated fool maternal parent did lots of +thanks-givings and _poojah_ because gods specially attentive to me--but +I said 'Go to, old woman. It was written on forehead.' + +"And when I returned to work, one day I had an idea--an idea of how to +punish Mr. Spensonly for propelling honoured parent head first out of +job, and idea for striking blow at British prestige. We had our office +in private bungalow in those days before new Secretariat was built, and +it was unhealthy bungalow in which no one would live because they died. + +"Mr. Spensonly didn't care, and he had office on top floor, but bottom +floor was clerks' office who went away at night also. Now it was my +painful duty to go every morning up to his office-room and see that peon +had put fresh ink and everything ready and that the _hamal_ had dusted +properly. So it was not long before I was aware that all the drawers +were locked except the top right-hand drawer, and that was not used as +there was a biggish hole in the front of it where the edge was broken +away from the above, some miscreant having once forced it open with +tool. + +"And verily it came to pass that one day, entering my humble abode-room, +I saw a plague-rat lying suffering from _in extremis_ and about to give +up ghost. But having had plague I did not trouble about the fleas that +would leave his body when it grew stiff and cold, in search of food. +Instead I let it lie there while my food was being prepared, and +regretted that it was not beneath the chair of some enemy of mine who +had not had plague, instead of beneath my own ... that of Mr. Spensonly +for example!... + +"It was Saturday night. I returned to the office that evening, knowing +that Mr. Spensonly was out; and I went to his office-room with idle +excuse to the peon sitting in verandah--and in my pocket was poor old +rat kicking bucket fast. + +"Who was to say _I_ put deceasing rat in the Sahib's table-drawer just +where he would come and sit all day--being in the habit of doing work on +Sunday the Christian holy day (being a man of no religion or caste)? +What do I know of rats and their properties when at death's front door? + +"Cannot rat go into a Sahib's drawer as well as into poor man's? If he +did no work on Sunday very likely the fleas would remain until Monday, +the rat dying slowly and remaining warm and not in _rigour mortuis_. +Anyhow when they began to seek fresh fields and pastures new, being fed +up with old rat--or rather not able to get fed up enough, they would be +jolly well on the look out, and glad enough to take nibble even at an +Englishman! (He! He!) So I argued, and put good old rat in drawer and +did slopes. On Monday, Mr. Spensonly went early from office, feeling +feverish; and when I called, as in duty bound, to make humble inquiries +on Tuesday, he was reported jolly sickish with Plague--and he died +Tuesday night. I never heard of any other Sahib dying of Plague in +Gungapur except one missionary fellow who lived in the native city with +native fellows. + +"So they can hang me for share in bomb-outrage and welcome (though I +never threw the bomb nor made it, and only took academic interest in +affair as I told the Judge Sahib)--for I maintain with my dying breath +that it was I who murdered Mr. Spensonly and put tongue in cheeks when +_Gungapur Gazette_ wrote column about the unhealthy bungalow in which he +was so foolish as to have his office. When I reflect that by this time +to-morrow I shall be Holy Martyr I rejoice and hope photo will be good +one, and I send this message to all the world-- + +"'Oh be....'" + + * * * * * + +Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Gosling-Green, M.P., liked this Pathan gentleman so +well after reading his letter and enclosure. Before long they liked him +very much less--although they did not know it--which sounds cryptic. + + + +Sec. 5. MR. HORACE FAGGIT. + + +"Fair cautions, ain't they, these bloomin' niggers," observed Mr. Horace +Faggit, as the train rested and refreshed itself at a wayside station on +its weary way to distant Gungapur. + +Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley, of the 99th Baluch Light Infantry, +apparently did not feel called upon to notice the remark of Horace, whom +he regarded as a Person. + +"Makes you proud to think you are one of the Ruling Rice to look at the +silly blighters, don't it?" he persisted. + +"No authority on rice," murmured the Colonel, without looking up from +his book. + +Stuffy old beggar he seemed to the friendly and genial Horace, but +Horace was too deeply interested in India and Horace to be affected by +trifles. + +For Mr. Horace Faggit had only set foot in his Imperial Majesty the King +Emperor's Indian Empire that month, and he was dazed with impressions, +drunk with sensations, and uplifted with pride. Was he not one of the +Conquerors, a member of the Superior Society, one of the Ruling Race, +and, in short, a Somebody? + +The train started again and Horace sank back upon the long couch of the +unwonted first-class carriage, and sighed with contentment and +satisfaction. + +How different from Peckham and from the offices of the fine old British +Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt! A Somebody at +last--after being office-boy, clerk, strap-hanger, gallery-patron, +cheap lodger, and paper-collar wearer. A Somebody, a Sahib, an English +gent., one of the Ruling and Upper Class after being a fourpenny +luncher, a penny-'bus-and-twopenny--tuber, a waverer 'twixt Lockhart and +Pearce-and-Plenty. + +For him, now, the respectful salaam, precedence, the first-class +carriage, the salutes of police and railway officials, hotels, a servant +(elderly and called a "Boy"), cabs (more elderly and called "gharries"), +first-class refreshment and waiting rooms, a funny but imposing +sun-helmet, silk and cotton suits, evening clothes, deference, regard +and prompt attention everywhere. Better than Peckham and the City, this! +My! What tales he'd have to tell Gwladwys Gwendoline when he had +completed his circuit and returned. + +For Mr. Horace Faggit, plausible, observant, indefatigably cunning, and +in business most capable ("No bloomin' flies on 'Orris F." as he would +confidently and truthfully assure you) was the first tentative tentacle +advanced to feel its way by the fine old British Firm of Schneider, +Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt, in the mazy markets of the gorgeous +Orient, and to introduce to the immemorial East their famous jewellery +and wine of Birmingham and Whitechapel respectively; also to introduce +certain exceeding-private documents to various gentlemen of Teutonic +sympathies and activities in various parts of India--documents of the +nature of which Horace was entirely ignorant. + +And the narrow bosom of Horace swelled with pride, as he realized that, +here at least, he was a Gentleman and a Sahib. + +Well, he'd let 'em know it too. Those who did him well and pleased him +should get tips, and those who didn't should learn what it was to earn +the displeasure of the Sahib and to evoke his wrath. And he would +endeavour to let all and sundry see the immeasurable distance and +impassable gulf that lay between a Sahib and a nigger--of any degree +whatsoever. + +This was the country to play the gentleman in and no error! You _could_ +fling your copper cash about in a land where a one-and-fourpenny piece +was worth a hundred and ninety-two copper coins, where you could get a +hundred good smokes to stick in your face for about a couple of bob, and +where you could give a black cabby sixpence and done with it. Horace had +been something of a Radical at home (and, indeed, when an office-boy, a +convinced Socialist), especially when an old-age pension took his lazy, +drunken old father off his hands, and handsomely rewarded the aged +gentleman for an unswervingly regular and unbroken career of +post-polishing and pub-pillaring. But now he felt he had been mistaken. +Travel widens the horizon and class-hatred is only sensible and +satisfactory when you are no class yourself. When you have got a +position you must keep it up--and being one of the Ruling Race was a +position undoubtedly. Horace Faggit _would_ keep it up too, and let 'em +see all about it. + +The train entered another station and drew in from the heat and glare to +the heat and comparative darkness. + +Yes, he would keep up his position as a Sahib haughtily and with +jealousy,--and he stared with terrible frown and supercilious hauteur at +what he mentally termed a big, fat buck-nigger who dared and presumed +to approach the carriage and look in. The man wore an enormous white +turban, a khaki Norfolk jacket, white jodhpore riding-breeches that +fitted the calf like skin, and red shoes with turned-up pointed toes. +His beard was curled, and his hair hung in ringlets from his turban to +his shoulders in a way Horace considered absurd. Could the blighter be +actually looking to see whether there might be room for him, and +meditating entry? If so Horace would show him his mistake. Pretty thing +if niggers were to get into First-Class carriages with Sahibs like +Horace! + +"'Ere! What's the gaime?" he inquired roughly. "Can't yer see this is +Firs-Class, and if you got a Firs-Class ticket, can't yer see there's +two Sahibs 'ere? Sling yer 'ook, _sour_.[59] Go on, _jao!_"[60] + + [59] Pig. + [60] Go away. + +The man gave no evidence of having understood Horace. + +"Sahib!" said he softly, addressing Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley. + +The Colonel went on reading. + +"_Jao_, I tell yer," repeated Horace, rather proud of his grasp of the +vernacular. "Slope, _barnshoot_."[61] + + [61] An insulting epithet. + +"Sahib!" said the man again. + +The Colonel looked up and then sprang to his feet with outstretched +hand. + +"_Bahut salaam_,[62] Subedar Major Saheb," he cried, and wrung the hand +of the "big fat buck-nigger" (who possessed the same medal-ribbons that +he himself did) as he poured forth a torrent of mingled Pushtu, Urdu, +and English while the Native Officer alternately saluted and pressed +the Colonel's hand to his forehead in transports of pure and wholly +disinterested joy. + + [62] Hearty greeting. + +"They told me the Colonel Sahib would be passing through this week," he +said, "and I have met all the trains that I might look upon his face. I +am weary of my furlough and would rejoin but for my law-suit. Praise be +to Allah that I have met my Colonel Sahib," and the man who had five war +decorations was utterly unashamed of the tear that trickled. + +"How does my son, Sahib?" he asked in Urdu. + +"Well, Subedar Major Saheb, well. Worthily of his father--whose place in +the _pultan_ may he come to occupy." + +"Praise be to God, Sahib! Let him no more seek his father's house nor +look upon his father's face again, if he please thee not in all things. +And is there good news of Malet-Marsac Sahib, O Colonel Sahib?" Then, +with a glance at Horace, he asked: "Why does this low-born one dare to +enter the carriage of the Colonel Sahib and sit? Truly the _relwey +terain_ is a great caste-breaker! Clearly he belongs to the class of the +_ghora-log_, the common soldiers." ... + +"'Oo was that,--a Rajah?" inquired the astounded Horace, as the train +moved on. + +"One of the people who keep India safe for you bagmen," replied the +Colonel, who was a trifle indignant on behalf of the insulted Subedar +Major Mir Daoud Khan Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan of the 99th Baluch Light +Infantry. + +"No doubt he thought I was another officer," reflected Horace. "They +think you're a gent, if you chivvy 'em." + +At Umbalpur Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley left the train and Mr. +Faggit had the carriage to himself--for a time. + +And it was only through his own firmness and proper pride that he had it +to himself for so long, for at the very next station a beastly little +brute of a black man actually tried to get in--in with _him_, Mr. Horace +Faggit of the fine old British Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & +Schmidt, manufacturers of best quality Birmingham jewellery and +"importers" of a fine Whitechapel wine. + +But Horace settled _him_ all right and taught him to respect Sahibs. It +happened thus. Horace lay idly gazing at the ever-shifting scene of the +platform in lordly detachment and splendid isolation, when, just as the +train was starting, a little fat man, dressed in a little red turban +like a cotton bowler, a white coat with a white sash over the shoulder, +a white apron tucked up behind, pink silk socks, and patent leather +shoes, told his servant to open the door. Ere the stupefied Horace could +arise from his seat the man was climbing in! The door opened inwards +however, and Horace was in time to give it a sharp thrust with his foot +and send the little man, a mere Judge of the High Court, staggering +backwards on to the platform where he sprawled at full length, while his +turban, which Horace thought most ridiculous for a grown man, rolled in +the dust. Slamming the door the "Sahib" leant out and jeered, while the +insolent presumptuous "nigger" wiped the blood from his nose with a +corner of the _dhoti_ or apron-like garment (which Horace considered +idiotic if not improper).... + +But Homer nodded, and--Horace went to sleep. + +When he awoke he saw by the dim light of the screened roof-lamp that he +was not alone, and that on the opposite couch a _native_ had actually +made up a bed with sheets, blankets and pillow, undressed himself, put +on pyjamas and gone to bed! Gord streuth, he had! He'd attend to him in +the morning--though it would serve the brute right if Horace threw him +out at the next station--without his kit. But he looked rather large, +and Mercy is notoriously a kingly attribute. + +In the morning Mir Jan Rah-bin-Ras el-Isan Mir Ilderim Dost Mahommed of +Mekran Kot, Gungapur, and the world in general, awoke, yawned, stretched +himself and arose. + +He arose to some six feet and three inches of stature, and his thin +pyjamasuit was seen to cover a remarkably fine and robustious +figure--provided with large contours where contours are desirable, and +level tracts where such are good. As he lay flat back again, Horace +noted that his chest rose higher than his head and the more southerly +portion of his anatomy, while the action of clasping his hands behind +his neck brought into prominence a pair of biceps that strained their +sleeves almost to bursting. He was nearly as fair as London-bred Horace, +but there were his turbanned conical hat, his curly toed shoes, his long +silk coat, his embroidered velvet waistcoat and other wholly Oriental +articles of attire. Besides, his vest was of patterned muslin and he had +something on a coloured string round his neck. + +"What are you doing 'ere?" demanded Horace truculently, as this bold +abandoned "native" caught his eye and said "Good-morning". + +"At present I am doing nothing," was the reply, "unless passive +reclining may count as being something. I trust I do not intrude or +annoy?" + +"You do intrude and likewise you do annoy also. I ain't accustomed to +travel with blacks, and I ain't agoing to have you spitting about 'ere. +You got in when I was asleep." + +"You were certainly snoring when I got in, and I was careful not to +awaken you--but not on account of any great sensation of guilt or fear. +I assure you I have no intention of spitting or being in any way rude, +unmannerly, or offensive. And since you object to travelling with +'blacks' I suggest--that you leave the carriage." + +Did Horace's ears deceive him? Did he sleep, did he dream, and were +visions about? _Leave the carriage_? + +"Look 'ere," he shouted, "you keep a civil tongue in your 'ead. Don't +you know I am a gentleman? What do you mean by getting into a +first-class carriage with a gentleman and insulting 'im? Want me to +throw you out before we reach a station? Do yer?" + +"No, to tell you the truth I did not realize that you are a +gentleman--and I have known a great number of English gentlemen in +England and India, and generally found them mirrors of chivalry and the +pink of politeness and courtesy. And I hope you won't try to throw me +out either in a station or elsewhere for I might get annoyed and hurt +you." + +What a funny nigger it was! What did he mean by "mirrors of chivalry". +Talked like a bloomin' book. Still, Horace would learn him not to +presoom. + +The presumptuous one retired to the lavatory; washed, shaved, and +reappeared dressed in full Pathan kit. But for this, there was nothing +save his very fine physique and stature to distinguish him from an +inhabitant of Southern Europe. + +Producing a red-covered official work on Mounted Infantry Training, he +settled down to read. + +Horace regretted that India provided not his favourite _Comic Cuts and +Photo Bits_. + +"May I offer you a cigarette and light one myself?" said the "black" man +in his quiet cultured voice. + +"I don't want yer fags--and I don't want you smoking while I got a empty +stummick," replied the Englishman. + +Anon the train strolled into an accidental-looking station with an air +of one who says, "Let's sit down for a bit--what?" and Horace sprang to +the window and bawled for the guard. + +"'Ere--ask this native for 'is ticket," he said, on the arrival of that +functionary. "Wot's 'e doing in 'ere with _me_?" + +"Ticket, please?" said the guard--a very black Goanese. + +The Pathan produced his ticket. + +"Will you kindly see if there is another empty first-class carriage, +Guard?" said he. + +"There iss one next a'door," replied the guard. + +"Then you can escape from your unpleasant predicament by going in there, +Sir," said the Pathan. + +"I shall remine where I ham," was the dignified answer. + +"And so shall I," said the Pathan. + +"Out yer go," said the bagman, rising threateningly. + +"I am afraid I shall have to put you to the trouble of ejecting me," +said the Pathan, with a smile. + +"I wouldn't bemean myself," countered Horace loftily, and didn't. + +"One often hears of the dangerous classes in India," said the Pathan, as +the train moved on again. "You belong to the most dangerous of all. You +and your kind are a danger to the Empire and I have a good mind to be a +public benefactor and destroy you. Put you to the edge of the sword--or +rather of the tin-opener," and he pulled his lunch-basket from under the +seat. + +"Have some chicken, little Worm?" he continued, opening the basket and +preparing to eat. + +"Keep your muck," replied Horace. + +"No, no, little Cad," corrected the strange and rather terrible person; +"you are going to breakfast with me and you are going to learn a few +things about India--and yourself." + +And Horace did.... + +"Where are you going?" asked the Pathan person later. + +"I'm going to work up a bit o' trade in a place called Gungerpore," was +the reply of the cowed Horace. + +But in Gungapur Horace adopted the very last trade that he, respectable +man, ever expected to adopt--that of War. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +"MEET AND LEAVE AGAIN." + + "So on the sea of life, Alas! + Man nears man, meets and leaves again." + + + +Sec. 1. + + +It had come. Ross-Ellison had proved a true prophet (and was to prove +himself a true soldier and commander of men). + +Possibly the most remarkable thing about it was the quickness and +quietness, the naturalness and easiness with which it had come. A week +or two of newspaper forecast and fear, a week or two of recrimination +and feverish preparation, an ultimatum--England at war. The navy +mobilized, the army mobilizing, auxiliaries warned to be in readiness, +overseas battalions, batteries and squadrons recalled, or +re-distributed, reverses and "regrettable incidents,"--and outlying +parts of India (her native troops massed in the North or doing +garrison-duty overseas) an archipelago of safety-islands in a sea of +danger; Border parts of India for a time dependent upon their various +volunteer battalions for the maintenance, over certain areas, of their +civil governance, their political organization and public services. + +In Gungapur, as in a few other Border cities, the lives of the European +women, children and men, the safety of property, and the continuance of +the local civil government depended for a little while upon the local +volunteer corps. + +Gungapur, whose history became an epitome of that of certain other +isolated cities, was for a few short weeks an intermittently besieged +garrison, a mark for wandering predatory bands composed of _budmashes_ +outlaws, escaped convicts, deserters, and huge mobs drawn from that +enormous body of men who live on the margin of respectability, peaceful +cultivator today, bloodthirsty dacoit to-morrow, wielders of the spade +and mattock or of the _lathi_ and _tulwar_[63] according to season, +circumstance, and the power of the Government; recruits for a mighty +army, given the leader and the opportunity--the hour of a Government's +danger. + + [63] Quarter-staff and sword. + +As had been pointed out, time after time, in the happy and +happy-go-lucky past, the practical civilian seditionist and active +civilian rebel is more fortunately situated in India than is his foreign +brother, in that his army exists ready to hand, all round him, in the +thousands of the desperately poor, devoid of the "respectability" that +accompanies property, thousands with nothing to lose and high hopes of +much to gain, heaven-sent material for the agitator. + +Thanks to the energy of Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison, his unusual +organizing ability, his personality, military genius and fore-knowledge +of what was coming, Gungapur suffered less than might have been expected +in view of its position on the edge of a Border State of +always-doubtful friendliness, its large mill-hand element, and the +poverty and turbulence of its general population. + +The sudden departure of the troops was the sign for the commencement of +a state of insecurity and anxiety which quickly merged into one of +danger and fear, soon to be replaced by a state of war. + +From the moment that it was known for certain that the garrison would be +withdrawn, Colonel Ross-Ellison commenced to put into practice his +projected plans and arrangements. On the day that Mr. Dearman's coolies +(after impassioned harangues by a blind Mussulman fanatic known as +Ibrahim the Weeper, a faquir who had recently come over the Border to +Gungapur and attained great influence; and by a Hindu professional +agitator who had obtained a post at the mills in the guise of a harmless +clerk) commenced rioting, beat Mr. Dearman to death with crowbars, +picks, and shovels, murdered all the European and Eurasian employees, +looted all that was worth stealing, and, after having set fire to the +mills, invaded the Cantonment quarter, burning, murdering, +destroying,--Colonel Ross-Ellison called out his corps, declared martial +law, and took charge of the situation, the civil authorities being dead +or cut off in the "districts". + +The place which he had marked out for his citadel in time of trouble was +the empty Military Prison, surrounded by a lofty wall provided with an +unassailable water-supply, furnished with cook-houses, infirmary, +work-shop, and containing a number of detached bungalows (for officials) +in addition to the long lines of detention barracks. + +As soon as his men had assembled at Headquarters he marched to the +place and commenced to put it in a state of defence and preparation for +a siege. + +While Captain Malet-Marsac and Captain John Bruce (of the Gungapur +Engineering College) slaved at carrying out his orders in the Prison, +other officers, with picked parties of European Volunteers, went out to +bring in fugitives, to commandeer the contents of provision and grain +shops, to drive in cattle, to seize cooks, sweepers and other servants, +to shoot rioters and looters in the Cantonment area, to search for +wounded and hidden victims of the riot, to bury corpses, extinguish +fires, penetrate to European bungalows in the city and in outlying +places, to publish abroad that the Military Prison was a safe refuge, to +seize and empty ammunition shops and toddy shops, to mount guards at the +railway-station, telegraph office, the banks, the gate-house of the +great Jail, the Treasury and the Kutcherry,[64] and generally, to use +their common sense and their rifles as the situation demanded. + + [64] Collector's Court and Office. + +Day by day external operation became more restricted as the mob grew +larger and bolder, better armed and better organized, daily augmented +and assisted from without. The last outpost which Colonel Ross-Ellison +withdrew was the one from the railway-station, and that was maintained +until it was known that large bridges had been blown up on either side +and the railway rendered useless. In the Jail gate-house he established +a strong guard under the Superintendent, and urged him to use it +ruthlessly, to kill on the barest suspicion of mutiny, and to welcome +the first opportunity of giving the sharpest of lessons. + +In this matter he set a personal example and behaved, to actual rioters, +with what some of his followers considered unnecessary severity, and +what others viewed as wise war-ending firmness. + +When remonstrated with by Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green (caught, alas! +with his admirable wife in this sudden and terrible maelstrom), for +shooting, against the Prison wall, a squad of armed men caught by night +and under more than suspicious circumstances, within Cantonment limits, +he replied curtly and rudely:-- + +"My good little Gosling, I'd shoot _you_ with my own hand if you failed +me in the least particular--so stick to your drill and hope to become a +Corporal before the war is over". + +The world-famous Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., hoping to become a +Corporal! Meanwhile he was less--a private soldier, doing four hard +drills a day--not to mention sentry-go and fatigues. Like Augustus +Clarence Percy Marmaduke Grobble, he grumbled bitterly--but he obeyed, +having been offered the hard choice of enrolment or exclusion. + +"I'll have no useless male mouths here," had said Colonel Ross-Ellison. +"Enroll or clear out and take your chance. I'll look after your wife." + +"But, my dear Sir...." + +"'Sir' without the 'my dear,' please." + +"I was about to say that I could--ah--assist, advise, sit upon your +councils, give you the benefit of my--er--experience, ..." the Publicist +had expostulated. + +"Experience of war?" + +"No--er--I----" + +"Enroll or clear out--and when you have enrolled remember that you are +under martial law and in time of war." + +A swift, fierce, masterful man, harsh and ruthless making war without +kid gloves--that it might end the sooner and be the longer remembered by +the survivors. The flag was to be kept flying in Gungapur, the women and +children were to be saved, all possible damage was to be inflicted on +the rebels and rioters, more particularly upon those who led and incited +them. The Gosling-Greens and Grobbles who could not materially assist to +this end could go, those who could thwart or hinder this end could die. + +Gleams of humour enlivened the situation. Mrs. Gosling-Green (_nee_ a +Pounding-Pobble, Superiora Pounding-Pobble, one of the Pounding-Pobbles +of Putney) was under the orders, very much under the orders, of the wife +of the Sergeant-Major, and early and plainly learnt that good woman's +opinion that she was a poor, feckless body and eke a fushionless, not +worth the salt of her porridge--a lazy slut withal. + +Among the "awkward squads" enrolled when rioting broke out and the corps +seized the old Prison, were erstwhile grave and reverend seniors +learning to "stand up like a man an' look prahd o' yourself" at the +orders of the Sergeant-Major. Among them were two who had been Great +Men, Managers signing _per_ and _pro_, Heads of Departments, almost Tin +Gods, and one of them, alas, was at the mercy of a mere boy whom he had +detested and frequently "squashed" in the happy days of yore. The mere +boy (a cool, humorous, and somewhat vindictive person, one of the best +subalterns of the Corps and especially chosen by Colonel Ross-Ellison +when re-organizing the battalion after its disbandment) was giving his +close attention to the improvement of his late manager, a pompous, dull +and silly bureaucrat, even as his late manager had done for him. + +"Now, Private Bulliton," he would urge, "_do_ learn which is your right +hand and which is your left. And _do_ stand up.... No--don't drop your +rifle when you are told to 'shoulder'. _That's_ better--we shall make +something of you yet. Head up, man, head up! Try and look fierce. Look +at Private Faggit--he'll be a Sergeant yet" ... and indeed Private +Horace Faggit was looking very fierce indeed, for he desired the blood +of these interfering villains who were hindering the development of the +business of the fine old British firm of Messrs. Schneider, Schnitzel, +Schnorrer & Schmidt and the commissions of their representative. Also he +felt that he was assisting at the making of history. 'Orace in a +bloomin' siege--Gorblimey!--and he, who had never killed anything bigger +than an insect in his life, lusted to know how it felt to shove your +bayonet into a feller or shoot 'im dead at short rynge. So Horace +drilled with alacrity and zest, paid close attention to +aiming-instruction and to such visual-training and distance-judging as +his officer, Captain John Bruce, could give him, and developed a +military aptitude surprising to those who had known him only as Horace +Faggit, Esquire, the tried and trusted Representative of the fine old +British Firm of Schneider, Schnitzel, Schnorrer & Schmidt. + +To Captain Malet-Marsac, an unusually thoughtful, observant and +studious soldier, it was deeply interesting to see how War affected +different people how values changed, how the Great became exceeding +small, and the insignificant person became important. By the end of the +first month of what was virtually the siege of the Military Prison, +Horace Faggit, late office-boy, clerk, and bagman, was worth +considerably more than Augustus Grobble, late Professor of Moral +Philosophy; Cornelius Gosling-Green, late Publicist; Edward Jones, late +(alleged) Educationist, of Duri formerly; and a late Head of a +Department,--all rolled into one--a keen, dapper, self-reliant soldier, +courageous, prompt, and very bloodthirsty. + +As he strolled up and down, supervising drills, went round the +sentry-posts by night, or marched at the head of a patrol, Captain +Malet-Marsac would reflect upon the relativity of things, the false +values of civilization, and the extraordinary devitalising and +deteriorating results of "education". When it came to vital issues, +elementals, stark essential manhood,--then the elect of civilization, +the chosen of education, weighed, was found not only wanting but largely +negligible. Where the highly "educated" was as good as the other he was +so by reason of his games and sports, his _shikar_, or his specialized +training--as in the case of the engineers and other physically-trained +men. + +Captain John Bruce, for example, Professor of Engineering, was a soldier +in a few weeks and a fine one. In time of peace, a quiet, humorous, dour +and religious-minded man, he was now a stern disciplinarian and a +cunning foe who fought to kill, rejoicing in the carnage that taught a +lesson and made for earlier peace. The mind that had dreamed of +universal brotherhood and the Oneness of Humanity now dreamed of +ambushes, night-attacks, slaughterous strategy and magazine-fire on a +cornered foe. + +Surely and steadily the men enclosed behind the walls of the old Prison +rose into the ranks of the utterly reliable, the indefatigable, the +fearless and the fine, or sank into those of the shifty, unhearty, +unreliable, and unworthy--save the few who remained steadily mediocre, +well-meaning, unsoldierly, fairly trustworthy--a useful second line, but +not to be sent on forlorn hopes, dangerous reconnoitring, risky +despatch-carrying, scouting, or ticklish night-work. One siege is very +like another--and Ross-Ellison's garrison knew increasing weariness, +hunger, disease and casualties. + +Mrs. Dearman's conduct raised Colonel Ross-Ellison's love to a burning, +yearning devotion, and his defence of Gungapur became his defence of +Mrs. Dearman. For her husband she appeared to mourn but little--there +was little time to mourn--and, for a while, until sights, sounds and +smells became increasingly horrible, she appeared almost to enjoy her +position of Queen of the Garrison, the acknowledged Ladye of the +Officers and men of the Corps. Until she fell sick herself, she played +the part of amateur Florence Nightingale right well, going regularly +with a lamp--the Lady with the Lamp--at night through the hospital ward. +Captain John Bruce was the only one who was not loud in her praises, +though he uttered no dispraises. He, a dour and practical person, +thought the voyage with the Lamp wholly unnecessary and likely to awaken +sleepers to whom sleep was life; that lint-scraping would have been a +more useful employment than graciousness to the poor wounded; that a +woman, as zealous as Mrs. Dearman looked, would have torn up dainty +cotton and linen confections for bandages instead of wearing them; that +the Commandant didn't need all the personal encouragement and +enheartenment that she wished to give him--and many other uncomfortable, +cynical, and crabby thoughts. Captain Malet-Marsac loved her without +criticism. + +Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, after haranguing all and sundry, +individually and collectively, on the economic unsoundness, the illogic, +and the unsocial influence of War, took to her bed and stayed there +until she found herself totally neglected. Arising and demanding an +interview with the Commandant, she called him to witness that she +entered a formal protest against the whole proceedings and registered +her emphatic----until the Commandant, sending for Cornelius (whose +duties cut him off, unrepining, from his wife's society), ordered him to +remove her, silence her, beat her if necessary--and so save her from the +unpleasant alternative of solitary confinement on bread and water until +she could be, if not useful, innocuous. + +Many a poor woman of humble station proved herself (what most women are) +an uncomplaining, unconsidered heroine, and more than one "subordinate" +of mixed ancestry and unpromising exterior, a brave devoted man. As +usual, what kept the flag flying and gave ultimate victory to the +immeasurably weaker side was the spirit, the personality, the force, the +power, of one man. + +To Captain Malet-Marsac this was a revelation. Even to him, who knew +John Robin Ross-Ellison well, and had known and studied him for some +time at Duri and elsewhere, it was a wonderful thing to see how the +quiet, curious, secretive man (albeit a fine athlete, horseman and +adventurous traveller) stepped suddenly into the fierce light of supreme +command in time of war, a great, uncompromising, resourceful ruler of +men, skilful strategist and tactician, remarkable both as organizer, +leader, and personal fighter. + +Did he _ever_ sleep? Night after night he penetrated into the city +disguised as a Pathan (a disguise he assumed with extraordinary skill +and which he strengthened by a perfect knowledge of many Border dialects +as well as of Pushtoo), or else personally led some night attack, sally, +reconnaissance or foraging expedition. Day after day he rode out on +Zuleika with the few mounted men at his command, scouting, +reconnoitring, gleaning information, attacking and slaughtering small +parties of marauders as occasion offered. + +From him the professional soldier, his adjutant, learned much, and +wondered where his Commandant had learned all he had to teach. Captain +Malet-Marsac owned him master, his military as well as his official +superior, and grew to feel towards him as his immediate followers felt +toward Napoleon--to love him with a devoted respect, a respecting +devotion. He recognized in him the born guerrilla leader--and more, the +trained guerrilla leader, and wondered where on earth this strange +civilian had garnered his practical military knowledge and skill. + +Wherever he went on foot, especially when he slipped out of the Prison +for dangerous spy-work among the forces of the mutineers, rebels, +rioters and _budmashes_ of the city, he was followed by his servant, an +African, concerning whom Colonel Ross-Ellison had advised the servants +of the Officers' Mess to be careful and also to bear in mind that he was +not a _Hubshi_. Only when the Colonel rode forth on horseback was he +separated from this man who, when the Colonel was in his room, +invariably slept across the door thereof. + +On night expeditions, the Somali would be disguised, sometimes as a +leprous beggar, as stable-boy, again as an Arab, sometimes as a renegade +sepoy from a Native Border Levy, sometimes as a poor fisherman, again as +a Sidi boatman, he being, like his master, exceptionally good at +disguises of all kinds, and knowing Hindustani, Arabic, and his native +Somal dialect. + +He was an expert bugler, and in that capacity stuck like a burr to the +Colonel by day, looking very smart and workmanlike in khaki uniform and +being of more than average usefulness with rifle and bayonet. Not until +after the restoration of order did Mr. Edward Jones, formerly of the +Duri High School, long puzzled as to where he had seen him before, +realize who he was. + + * * * * * + +In a low dark room, dimly lighted that evening by wick-and-saucer +_butties_, squatted, lay, sat, stood and sprawled a curious collection +of scoundrels. The room was large, and round the four sides of it ran a +very broad, very low, and very filthy divan, intended for the rest and +repose of portly _bunnias_,[65] _seths_,[66] brokers, shopkeepers and +others of the commercial fraternity, what time they assembled to chew +pan and exchange lies and truths anent money and the markets. A very +different assembly now occupied its greasy lengths _vice_ the former +habitues of the _salon_, now dispersed, dead, robbed, ruined, held to +ransom, or cruelly blackmailed. + + [65] Dealers. + [66] Money-lenders. + +In the seat of honour (an extra cushion), sat the blind faquir who, with +his clerkly colleague, had set the original match to the magazine by +inciting the late Mr. Dearman's coolies. Apparently a relentless, +terrible fanatic and bitter hater of the English, for his councils were +all of blood and fire, rapine and slaughter, he taunted his hearers with +their supine cowardice in that the Military Prison still held out, its +handful of defenders still manned its walls, nay, from time to time, +made sallies and terrible reprisals upon a careless ill-disciplined +enemy. + +"Were I but as other men! Had I but mine eyes!" he screamed, "I would +overwhelm the place in an hour. Hundreds to one you are--and you are +mocked, robbed, slaughtered." + +A thin-faced, evil-looking, squint-eyed Hindu whose large, thick, +gold-rimmed goggles accorded ill with the sword that lay athwart his +crossed legs, addressed him in English. + +"Easy to talk, Moulvie. Had you your sight you could perhaps drill and +arm the mob into an army, eh? Find them repeating rifles and ammunition, +find them officers, find them courage? Is it not? Yes." + +"Hundreds to one, Babu," grunted the blind man, and spat. + +"I would urge upon this august assemblee," piped a youthful weedy +person, "that recreemination is not argument, and that many words butter +no parsneeps, so to speak. We are met to decide as to whether the +treasure shall be removed to Pirgunge or still we keep it with us here +in view of sudden sallies of foes. I hereby beg to propose and my +honourable friend Mister----" + +"Sit down, crow," said the blind faquir unkindly and there was a +snigger. "The treasure will be removed at once--this night, or I will +remove myself from Gungapur with all my followers--and go where deeds +are being done. I weary of waiting while pi-dogs yelp around the walls +they cannot enter. Cowards! Thousands to one--and ye do not kill two of +them a day. Conquer and slay them? Nay--rather must our own treasure be +removed lest some night the devil, in command there, swoop upon it, +driving ye off like sheep and carrying back with him----" + +"Flesh and blood cannot face a machine-gun, Moulvie," said the +squint-eyed Hindu. "Even _your_ holy sanctity would scarcely protect you +from bullets. Come forth and try to-morrow." + +"Nor can flesh and blood--such flesh and blood as Gungapur +provides--surround the machine-gun and rush upon it from flank and rear +of course," replied the blind man. "Do machine guns fire in all +directions at once? When they ran the accursed thing down to the +market-place and fired it into the armed crowd that listened to my +words, could ye not have fled by other streets to surround it? Had all +rushed bravely from all directions how long would it have fired? Even +thus, could more have died than did die? Scores they slew--and retired +but when they could fire no longer.... And ye allowed it to go because a +dozen men stood between it and you----," and again the good man spat. + +"I do not say 'Sit down, crow' for thou art already sitting," put in a +huge, powerful-looking man, arrayed in a conical puggri-encircled cap, +long pink shirt over very baggy peg-top trousers, and a green waistcoat, +"but I weary of thy chatter Blind-Man. Keep thy babble for fools in the +market-place, where, I admit, it hath its uses. Remain our valued and +respected talker and interfere not with fighting men, nor criticize. And +say not 'The treasure will be removed this night,' nor anything else +concerning command. _I_ will decide in the matter of the treasure and I +prefer to keep it here under mine hand...." + +"Doubtless," sneered the blind man. "Under thy hand--until, in the end, +it be found to consist of boxes of stones and old iron. Look you--the +treasure goes to-night or _I_ go, and certain others go with me. And +suppose I change my tune in the market-place, Havildar Nazir Ali Khan, +and say certain words concerning _thee_ and thy designs, give hints of +treachery--and where is the loud-mouthed Nazir Ali Khan?..." and his +blind eyes glared cold ferocity at the last speaker who handled his +sword and replied nothing. + +The secret of the man's power was clear. + +"The treasure will be removed to night," he repeated and a discussion of +limes, routes, escort and other details followed. A dispute arose +between the big man addressed as Havildar Nazir Ali Khan and a squat +broad-shouldered Pathan as to the distance and probable time that a +convoy, moving at the rate of laden bullock-carts, would take in +reaching Pirgunge. + +The short thick-set Pathan turned for confirmation of his estimate to +another Pathan, grey-eyed but obviously a Pathan, nevertheless. + +"I say it is five _kos_ and the carts should start at moonrise and +arrive before the moon sets." + +"You are right, brother," replied the grey-eyed Pathan, who, for his own +reasons, particularly desired that the convoy should move by moonlight. +This individual had not spoken hitherto in the hearing of the blind +faquir, and, as he did so now, the blind man turned sharply in his +direction, a look of startled surprise and wonder on his face. + +"Who spoke?" he snapped. + +But the grey-eyed man arose, yawned hugely, and, arranging his puggri +and straightening his attire, swaggered towards the door of the room, +passed out into a high-walled courtyard, exchanged a few words with the +guardian of a low gateway, and emerged into a narrow alley where he was +joined by an African-looking camel-man. + +The blind man, listening intently, sat motionless for a minute and then +again asked sharply:-- + +"Who spoke? Who spoke?" + +"Many have spoken Pir Saheb," replied the squat Pathan. + +"Who said '_You are right, brother_,' but now? Who? Quick!" he cried. + +"Who? Why, 'twas one of us," replied the squat Pathan. "Yea, 'twas +Abdulali Habbibullah, the money-lender. I have known him long...." + +"Let him speak again," said the blind man. + +"Where is he? He has gone out, I think," answered the other. + +"Call him back, Hidayetullah. Take others and bring him back. I must +hear his voice again," urged the faquir. + +"He will come again, Moulvie Saheb, he is often here," said the short +man soothingly. "I know him well. He will be here to-morrow." + +"See, Hidayetullah," said the blind faquir "when next he comes, say then +to me, 'May I bring thee tobacco, Pir Saheb,' if he be sitting near, but +say 'May I bring thee tobacco, Moulvie Saheb,' if he be sitting afar +off. If this, speak to him across the room that I may hear his voice in +answer, and call him by his name, Abdulali Habbibullah. And if I should, +on a sudden, cry out 'Hold the door,' do thou draw knife and leap to the +door...." + +"A _spy_, Pir Saheb?" asked the interested man. + +"That I shall know when next I hear his voice--and, if it be he whom I +think, thou shalt scrape the flesh from the bones of his face with thy +knife and put his eyeballs in his mouth. But he must not die. Nay! Nay!" + +The Pathan smiled. + +"Thou shalt hear his voice, Pir Saheb," he promised. + + * * * * * + +An hour later the African-looking camel-man and the Pathan approached +the gates of the Military Prison and at a distance of a couple of +hundred yards the African imitated the cry of a jackal, the barking of a +dog and the call of the "Did-ye-do-it" bird. + +Approaching the gate he whispered a countersign and was admitted, the +gate being then held open for the Pathan who followed him at a distance +of a hundred yards. Entering Colonel Ross-Ellison's room the Pathan +quickly metamorphosed himself into Colonel Ross-Ellison, and sent for +his Adjutant, Captain Malet-Marsac. + +"Fifty of the best, with fifty rounds each, to parade at the gate in +half an hour," he said. "Bruce to accompany me, you to remain in command +here. All who can, to wear rubber-soled shoes, others to go barefoot or +bandage their boots with putties over cardboard or paper. No man likely +to cough or sneeze is to go. Luminous-paint discs to be served out to +half a dozen. No rations, no water,--just shirts, shorts and bandoliers. +Nothing white or light-coloured to be worn. Put a strong outpost, all +European, under Corporal Faggit on the hill, and double all guards and +sentries. Shove sentry-groups at the top of the Sudder Bazaar, West +Street and Edward Road.--_You_ know all about it.... I've got a good +thing on. There'll be a lot of death about to-night, if all goes well." + +Half an hour later Captain Bruce called his company of fifty picked men +to "attention" as Colonel Ross-Ellison approached, the gate was opened +and an advance-guard of four men, with four flankers, marched out and +down the road leading to the open country. Two of these wore each a +large tin disc painted with luminous paint fastened to his back. When +these discs were only just visible from the gate a couple more +disc-adorned men started forth, and before their discs faded into the +darkness the remainder of the party "formed fours" and marched after +them, all save a section of fours which followed a couple of hundred +yards in the rear, as a rear-guard. In silence the small force advanced +for an hour, passed some cross-roads, and then Colonel Ross-Ellison, +who had joined the advance-guard, signalled a halt and moved away by +himself to the right of the road. + +In the shadow of the trees, the moon having risen, Captain Bruce ordered +his men to lie down, announcing in a whisper that he would have the life +of anyone who made a sound or struck a match. This was known to be but +half in jest, for the Captain was a good disciplinarian and a man of his +word. + +Save for the occasional distant bark of the village-dogs, the night was +very still. Sitting staring out into the moon-lit hazy dusk in the +direction in which his chief had disappeared, Captain John Bruce +wondered if he were really one of a band of armed men who hoped shortly +to pour some two and a half thousand bullets into other men, really a +soldier fighting and working and starving that the Flag might fly, +really a primitive fighting-man with much blood upon his hands and an +earnest desire for more--or whether he were not a respectable Professor +who would shortly wake, beneath mosquito-curtains, from a very dreadful +dream. How thin a veneer was this thing called Civilization, and how +unchanged was human nature after centuries and centuries of---- + +Colonel Ross-Ellison appeared. + +"Bring twenty-five men and follow me. Hurry up," he said quietly, and, a +minute later, led the way from the high-road across country. Five +minutes marching brought the party, advancing in file, to the mouth of a +nullah which ran parallel with the road. Along this, Colonel +Ross-Ellison led them, and, when he gave the signal to halt, it was seen +that they were behind a high sloping bank within fifty yards of the +high-road. + +"Now," said the Colonel to Captain John Bruce, "I'm going to leave you +here. Let your men lie below the top of the bank and if any man looks +over, till your command 'Up and fire,' kick his face in. You will peep +through that bit of bush and no one else will move. Do nothing until I +open fire from the other side. The moment I open fire, up your lot come +and do the same. Magazine, of course. The moon will improve as it rises +more. You'll fix bayonets and charge magazines now. I expect a pretty +big convoy--and before very long. Probably a mob all round a couple of +_bylegharies_[67] and a crowd following--everybody distrusting every +one, as it is treasure, looted from all round. Don't shoot the bullocks, +but I particularly want to kill a blind bloke who may be with 'em, so if +we charge, barge in too, and look out for a blinder and don't give him +any quarter--give him half instead--half your sword. He's a +ringleader--and I want him for auld lang syne too, as it happens. He +doesn't look blind at all, but he would be led.... Any questions?" + + [67] Bullock-carts. + +"No, Sir. I'm to hide till you fire. Then fire, magazine, and charge if +you do. A blind man to be captured if possible. The bullocks not to be +shot, if possible." + +"Eight O. Carry on," and the Colonel strode back to where the remaining +twenty-five waited, under a Sergeant. These he placed behind an old +stone wall that marked the boundary of a once-cultivated patch of land, +some forty yards from the road, to which the ground sloped sharply +downwards. + +A nice trap if all went well. + +All went exceeding well. + +Within an hour and a half of the establishment of the ambush, the +creaking of ungreased wheels was heard and the loud nasal singing of +some jovial soul. Down the silent deserted road came three bullock-carts +piled high with boxes and escorted by a ragged regiment of ex-sepoys, +ex-police, mutineers, almost a battalion from the forces of the wild +Border State neighbouring Gungapur. A small crowd of variously armed +uniformless men preceded the escort and carts, while a large one +followed them. + +No advance-guard nor flanking-parties guaranteed the force from ambush +or attack. + +Suddenly, as the carts crossed a long culvert and the escort perforce +massed on to the road, instead of straggling on either side beneath the +trees, a voice said coolly in English "Up and fire," and as scores of +surprised faces turned in the direction of the voice the night was rent +with the crash of fifty rifles pouring in magazine fire at the rate of +fifteen rounds a minute. Magazine fire at less than fifty yards, into a +close-packed body of men. Scarcely a hundred shots were returned and, by +the time a couple of thousand rounds had been fired (less than three +minutes), and Colonel Boss-Ellison had cried "Ch-a-a-a-r-ge" there was +but little to charge and not much for the bayonet to do. Of the six +bullocks four were uninjured. + +"Load as many boxes as you can on two carts, and leave half a dozen men +to bring them in. They'll have to take their chance. We must get back +_ek dum_,"[68] said Colonel Ross-Ellison. + + [68] At once. + +Even as he spoke, the sound of distant firing fell upon the ears of the +party and the unmistakable stammer-hammer racket of the maxim. + +"They're attacked, by Jove," he cried. "I thought it likely. There may +have been an idea that we should know something of this convoy and go +for it. All ready? Now a steady double. We'll double and quick-march +alternately. Double _march_." + + * * * * * + +Near the Military Prison was a low conical hill, bare of vegetation and +buildings, a feature of the situation which was a constant source of +anxiety to Colonel Ross-Ellison, for he realized that life in the +beleaguered fortress would be very much harder, and the casualty rate +very much higher, if the enemy had the sense to occupy it in strength +and fire down into the Prison. Against this contingency he always +maintained a picket there at night and a special sentry to watch it by +day, and he had caused deep trenches to be dug and a covered way made in +the Prison compound, so that the fire-swept area could be crossed, when +necessary, with the minimum of risk. Until the night of the +convoy-sortie, however, the enemy had not had the ordinary common sense +to grasp the fact that the hill was the key of the situation and to +seize it. + +"Bloomin' cold up 'ere, Privit Greens, wot?" observed Corporal Horace +Faggit to the famous Mr. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., in kindly and +condescending manner, as he placed him back to back with Private +Augustus Grobble on the hill-top. "But you'll keep awake all the better +for that, me lad.... Now you other four men can go to sleep, see? +You'll lie right close up agin the feet o' Privits Greens an' Grabbles, +and when they've done their two hours, they'll jes' give two o' you a +kick and them two'll rise up an' take their plaices while they goes to +sleep. Then them two'll waike 'tother two, see? An' if hannyone +approaches, the sentry as is faicin' 'im will 'olleraht 'Alt! 'Oo comes +there?' an' if the bloke or blokes say, 'Friend,' then 'e'll say +'Hadvance one an' give the countersign,' and if he can't give no +countersign, then blow 'is bleedin' 'ead off, see?... Now _I_ shall +visit yer from time to time, an' let me find you spry an' smart with +yer,' _'Alt,' 'Oo comes there?_ see? An' if either sentry sees anythink +suspicious down below there--let 'im send the other sentry across fer me +over in the picket there, see? 'E'll waike up the others meanwhile an' +they'll all watch out till I comes and gives orders, see? An' if you're +attacked afore I come, then retire firing. Retire on the picket, see? We +won't shoot yer. Don't make a bloomin' blackguard-rush for the picket +though. Jest retire one by one firin' steady, see? Now I'm goin' back to +the picket. Ow! an' don' fergit the reconnoitrin' patrol. Don' go an' +shoot at 'em as they comes back. 'Alt 'em for the countersign as they +comes out, and 'alt 'em fer it agin as they comes in, see? Right O. Now +you keep yer eyes skinned, Greens and Grobbles." + +Private Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P., had never looked really +impressive even on the public platform in over-long frock-coat and +turned-down collar. In ill-fitting khaki, ammunition boots, a helmet +many sizes too big, and badly-wound putties, he looked an extremely +absurd object. Private Augustus Grobble looked a little more +convincing, inasmuch as his fattish figure filled his uniform, but the +habit of wearing his helmet on the back of his neck and a general +congenital unmilitariness of habit and bearing, operated against +success. + +Two unhappier men rarely stood back to back upon a lonely, windy +hill-top. Both were very hungry, very sleepy and very cold, both were +essentially men of peace, and both had powerful imaginations--especially +of horrors happening to their cherished selves. + +Both were dealers in words; neither was conversant with things, facts, +deeds, and all that lay outside their inexpressibly artificial and +specialized little spheres. Each had been "educated" out of physical +manliness, self-reliance, courage, practical usefulness, adaptability, +"grit" and the plain virile virtues. + +Cornelius burned with a peevish indignation that he, writer of +innumerable pamphlets, speaker at innumerable meetings, organizer of +innumerable societies, compiler of innumerable statistics, author of +innumerable letters to the press, he, husband of the famous suffragist +worker, speaker, organizer and leader, Superiora Gosling-Green (a +Pounding-Pobble of the Pounding-Pobbles of Putney), that he, Cornelius +Gosling-Green, Esq., M.P., should be stuck there like a common soldier, +with a heavy and dangerous gun and a nasty sharp-pointed bayonet, to +stand and shiver while others slept. To stand, too, in a horribly +dangerous situation ... he had a good mind to resign in protest, to take +his stand upon his inalienable rights as a free Englishman. Who should +dare to coerce a Gosling-Green, Member of Parliament, of the Fabian +Society, and a hundred other "bodies". His Superiora did all the +coercing he wanted and more too. He would enter a formal protest and +tender his resignation. He had always, hitherto, been able to protest +and resign when things did not go as he wished. + +He yawned, and again. + +"I can see as well sitting or kneeling as I can standing," he remarked +to Private Augustus Grobble. + +"It is a great physiological truth," replied Augustus, and they both sat +down, leaning against each other for warmth and support, back to back. + +The soul of Augustus was filled with a melancholy sadness and a gentle +woe. To think that he, the loved of many beautiful Wimmin should be +suffering such hardships and running such risks. How his face was +falling in and how the wrinkles were gathering round his eyes. Some of +the beautiful and frail, of whom he thought when he gave his usual toast +after dinner, "To the Wimmin who have loved me," would hardly recognize +the fair boy over whom they had raved, whose poems they had loved, whose +hair, finger-nails, eyes, ties, socks and teeth they had complimented. A +cruel, cruel waste. But how rather romantic--the war-worn soldier! He +who knew his Piccadilly, Night Clubs, the theatres, the haunts of fair +women and brave men, standing, no--sitting, on a lonely hill-top +watching, watching, the lives of the garrison in his hands.... He would +return to those haunts, bronzed, lined, hardened--the man from the edge +of the Empire, from the back of Beyond, the man who had Done Things--and +talk of camp-fires, the trek, the Old Trail, smells of sea and desert +and jungle, and the man-stifled town, ... battle, ... brave deeds ... +unrecognized heroism ... a medal ... perhaps the ... and the nodding +head of Augustus settled upon his chest. + +His deep breathing and occasional snores did not attract the attention +of Private Gosling-Green, as Private Gosling-Green was sound asleep. Nor +did they awaken the weary four who made up the sentry group--Edward +Jones, educationist; Henry Grigg, barber; Walter Smith, shopman; +Reginald Ladon Gurr, Head of a Department--and whose right it was to +sleep so long as two of the six watched. + + * * * * * + +"Let there be no mistake then," said the burly Havildar Nazir Ali Khan +to one Hidayetulla, squat thick-set Pathan, "at the first shot from the +hill your party, ceasing to crawl, will rush upon the picket, and mine +will swoop upon the gate bearing the tins of kerosene oil, the faggots +and the brushwood. All those with guns will fire at the walls save the +Border State company who will reserve their fire till the gate is opened +or burnt down. The dogs within must either open it to extinguish the +fire, or it must burn. On their volley, all others will charge for the +gate with knife and sword. Do thou win the hill-top and keep up a heavy +fire into the Prison. There will be Lee-Metford rifles and ammunition +there ready for thy taking--ha-ha!" + +"And if we are seen and fired on as we stalk the picket on the hill?" + +"Then their first shot will, as I said, be the signal for your rush and +ours. Understandest thou?" + +"I understand. 'Tis a good plan of the blind Moulvie's." + +"Aye! He can _plan_,--and talk. We can go and be shot, and be blamed if +his plans miscarry," grumbled the big man, and added, "How many have +you?" + +"About forty," was the reply, "and all Khost men save seven, of whom +four are Afghans of Cabul, two are Punjabis, and one a Sikh." + +"Is it three hours since the treasure started? That was the time the +Moulvie fixed for the attack." + +"It must be, perhaps," replied the other. "Let us begin. But what if the +hill be not held, or if we capture it with the knife, none firing a +shot?" + +"Then get into good position, make little sungars where necessary, and, +all being ready, open fire into the Prison compound.... At the first +shot--whatever be thy luck--we shall rush in our thousands down the +Sudder Bazaar, West Street and Edward Street, and do as planned. Are thy +forty beneath the trees beyond the hill?" + +"They are. I join them now," and the squat broad-shouldered figure +rolled away with swinging, swaggering gait. + +Suddenly Private Augustus Grobble started from deep sleep to acutest +wide-eyed consciousness and was aware of a man's face peering over a +boulder not twenty yards from him--a hideous hairy face, surmounted by a +close-fitting skull-cap that shone greasy in the moonlight. The blood of +Augustus froze in his veins, he held his breath, his heart shook his +body, his tongue withered and dried. He closed his eyes as a wave of +faintness swept over him, and, as he opened them again, he saw that the +man was crawling towards him, and that between his teeth was a huge +knife. The terrible Pathan, the cruel dreadful stalker, the slashing +disemboweller was upon him!--and with a mighty effort he sprang to his +feet and fled for his life down the hill in the direction of the Prison. +His sudden movements awoke Private Green, who, in one scared glance, saw +a number of terrible forms arising from behind boulders and rushing +silently and swiftly towards him and his flying comrade. Leaping up he +fled after Grabble, running as he had never run before, and, even as he +leapt clear of the sleeping group, the wave of Pathans broke upon it and +with slash and stab assured it sound sleep for ever, all save Edward +Jones, who, badly wounded as he was, survived (to the later undoing of +Moussa Isa, murderer of a Brahmin boy). + +Of the four Pathans who had surprised the sentry group, one, with a +passing slash that re-arranged the face of Reginald Ladon Gurr, sped on +after the flying sentries. But that the man was short and stout of build +and that the fugitives had a down-hill start, both would have died that +night. As it was, within ten seconds, a tremendous sweep of the heavy +blade of the long Khyber knife caused Private Gosling-Green to lose his +head completely and for the last time. Augustus Grobble, favoured of +fortune for the moment, took flying leaps that would have been +impossible to him under other circumstances, bounded and ran +unstumbling, gained the shadow of the avenue of trees, and with bursting +breast sped down the road, reached the gate, shouted the countersign +with his remaining breath, and was dragged inside by Captain Michael +Malet-Marsac. + +"Well?" inquired he coldly of the gasping terrified wretch. + +When he could do so, Augustus sobbed out his tale. + +"Bugler, sound the alarm!" said the officer. "Sergeant of the Guard put +this man in the guard-room and keep him under arrest until he is sent +for," and, night-glasses in hand, he climbed one of the ladders leading +to the platform erected a few feet below the top of the well-loopholed +wall, just as a shot was fired and followed by others in rapid +succession on the hill whence Grobble had fled. + +The shot was fired by Corporal Horace Faggit and so were the next four +as he rapidly emptied his magazine at the swiftly charging Pathans who +rose out of the earth on his first shot at the man he had seen wriggling +to the cover of a stone. As he fired and shouted, the picket-sentry did +the same, and, within a minute of Horace's first shot, ten rifles were +levelled at the spot where the rushing silent fiends had disappeared. +Within thirty yards of them were at least half a dozen men--and not a +glimpse of one to be seen. + +"I got one, fer keeps, any'ow," said Horace in the silence that followed +the brief racket; "I see 'im drop 'is knife an' fall back'ards...." + +Perfect silence--and then ... _bang_ ... and a man standing beside +Horace grunted, coughed, and scuffled on the ground. + +"Get down! Get down! You fools," cried Horace, who was himself standing +up. "Wha's the good of a square sungar if you stands up in it? All +magazines charged? It's magazine-fire if there's a rush.".... + +Silence. + +"Fire at the next flash, all of yer," he said, "an' look out fer a +rush." Adding, "Bli' me--'ark at 'em dahn below," as a burst of fire +and a pandemonium of yells broke out. + +A yellow glare lit the scene, flickered on the sky, and even gave +sufficient light to the picket on the hill-top to see a wave of wild, +white-clad, knife-brandishing figures surge over the edge of the hill +and bear down upon them, to be joined, as they passed, by those who had +sunk behind stones at the picket's first fire. + +"Stiddy," shrilled Horace. "Aim stiddy at the b----s. _Fire_," and again +the charging line vanished. + +"Gone to earf," observed Horace in the silence. "Nah look aht for +flashes an' shoot at 'em...." + +_Bang!_ and Horace lost a thumb and a portion of his left cheek, which +was in line with his left thumb as he sighted his rifle. + +Before putting his left hand into his mouth he said, a little +unsteadily:-- + +"If I'm knocked aht you go on shootin' at flashes and do magazine-fire +fer rushes. If they gets in 'ere, we're tripe in two ticks." + +Then he fainted for a while, came to, and felt much better. "Goo' job +it's the left fumb," he observed as he strove to re-charge his magazine. +The dull thud of bullet into flesh became a frequent sound. The last +observation that Horace made to the remnant of his men was:-- + +"Bli' me! they're all rahnd us now--like flies rahnd a fish-barrer. Dam' +swine!..." + + * * * * * + +Firing steadily at the advancing mobs the street-end pickets retired on +the Prison and were admitted as the surging crowds amalgamated, +surrounded the walls, and opened a desultory fire at the loopholes and +such of the defenders as fired over the coping from ladders. + +One detachment, with some show of military discipline and uniform, +arrayed itself opposite the gate and a couple of hundred yards from it, +lining the ditch of the road, and utilizing the cover and shadow of the +trees. Suddenly a large party, mainly composed of Mahsuds, and headed by +a very big powerful man, made a swift rush to the gate, each man bearing +a bundle of faggots or a load of cut brushwood, save two or three who +bore vessels of kerosene oil. With reckless courage and daring, they ran +the gauntlet of the loopholes and the fire from the wall-top, piled +their combustibles against the wooden gate, poured gallons of kerosene +over the heap, set fire to it, and fled. + +The leaping flames spread and shot forth licking tongues and, in a few +minutes, the pile was a roaring crackling furnace. + +The mob grew denser and denser toward the gate side of the Prison, +leaving the remaining portions of the perimeter thinly surrounded by +those who possessed firearms and had been instructed to shoot at +loopholes and at all who showed themselves over the wall. It was +noticeable to Captain Malet-Marsac that the ever-increasing mob opposite +the fire left a clear front to the more-or-less uniformed and +disciplined body that had taken up a position commanding the gate. + +That was the game was it? Burn down the gate, pour in a tremendous fire +as the gate fell, and then let the mob rush in and do its devilmost.... + +What was happening on the hill-top? The picket must be holding whatever +force had attacked it, for no shots were entering the Prison compound +and the only casualties were among those at the loopholes and on the +ladders and platforms round the walls. How long would the gate last? +Absolutely useless to attempt to pour water on the fire. Even if it were +not certain death to attempt it, one might as well try to fly, as to +quench that furnace with jugs and _chatties_[69] of water. + + [69] Bowls. + +There was nothing to be done. Every man who could use a rifle was at +loophole or embrasure, ammunition was plentiful, all non-combatants were +hidden. Every one understood the standing-orders in case of such an +emergency.... + +The gate was on fire. It was smoking on the inner side, warping, +cracking, little flames were beginning to appear tentatively, and +disappear again. + +"_Now_ bugler!" said Captain Malet-Marsac, and Moussa Isa's _locum +tenens_ blew his only call--a series of long loud G's.... The gate +blazed, before long it would fall.... A hush fell upon the expectant +multitude without, the men of the more-or-less uniformed and disciplined +party raised their rifles, a big burly man bawled orders.... + +With a crash and leaping fountain of sparks the gate fell into the dying +fire, a mighty roar burst from the multitude, and a crashing fusillade +from the rifles of the uniformed men.... + +As their magazine-fire slackened, dwindled to a desultory popping, and +ceased, the mob with a howl of triumph surged forward to the gaping +gateway, trampled and scattered the glowing remnants of the fire, +swarmed yelling through, and--found themselves face to face with a +stout semicircular rampart of stone, earth and sandbags, which, +loopholed, embrasured and strongly manned, spanned the gateway in a +thirty-yard arc. From the centre of it, pointing at the entrance, looked +the maxim gun. + +"_Fire_," shouted a voice, and in a minute the place was a shambles. +Before Maxim and Lee-Metford were too hot to touch, before the baffled +foe fell back, those who surged in through the gate climbed, not over a +wall of dead, but up on to a platform of dead, a plateau through which +ran a valley literally blasted out by the ceaseless maxim-fire.... + +And, as the less fanatical, less courageous, less bloodthirsty withdrew +and gathered without and to one side, where they were safe from that +terrible fire-belching rampart that was itself like the muzzle of some +gigantic thousand-barrelled machine-gun, they were aware, in their rear, +of a steady tramp of running feet and of the orders:-- + +"From the centre _extend_! At the enemy in front; fixed sights; _fire_," +and of a withering hail of bullets. + +Colonel Ross-Ellison had arrived in the nick of time. It was a "crowning +mercy" indeed, the beginning of the end, and when (a few days later), +over a repaired bridge, came a troop-train, gingerly advancing, the +battalion of British troops that it disgorged at Gungapur Road Station +found disappointingly little to do in a city of women, children, and +eminently respectable innocent, householders. + + * * * * * + +On the hill-top, at dawn, Colonel Ross-Ellison and Captain Malet-Marsac +found all that was left of the picket and sentry-group,--of the latter, +three mangled corpses, the headless deserter, and a just-living man, +horribly slashed. It was Moussa Isa Somali who improvised a stretcher +and lifted this poor fellow on to it and tended him with the greatest +solicitude and faithful care. Was he not Jones Sahib who at Duri gave +him the knife wherewith he cleansed his honour and avenged his insulted +People? + +Of the picket, nine lay dead and one dying. Of the dead, one had his +lower jaw neatly and cleanly removed by a bullet. Two had bled to death. + +"'Ullo, Guvner!" whispered Corporal Horace Faggit through parched +cracked lips. "We kep' 'em orf. We 'eld the bleedin' fort," and the last +effect of the departing mind upon the shot-torn, knife-slashed body was +manifested in a gasping, quavering wail of-- + + "'Owld the Fort fer Hi am comin'" + Jesus whispers still. + "'Owld the Fort fer Hi am comin,'" + --By Thy graice we will. + +Each of these corpses Moussa Isa carried reverently down to the Prison +that they might be "buried darkly at dead of night" with the other +heroes, in softer ground without the walls--a curious funeral in which +loaded rifles and belted maxim played their silent part. Apart from the +honoured dead was buried the body of Private Augustus Grabble, shot +against the Prison wall by order of Colonel Ross-Ellison for cowardice +in the face of the enemy and desertion of his post. So was that of +Private Green, deserter also. After the uninterrupted ceremony, Moussa +Isa, in the guise of an ancient beggar, lame, decrepit, and bandaged +with foul rags, sought the city and the news of the bazaar. + +Limping down the lane in which stood the tall silent house that his +master often visited, he saw three men emerge from the well-known low +doorway. + +Two approached him while one departed in the opposite direction. One of +these two held the arm of the other. + +"I must hear his voice again. I have not heard his voice again," urged +this one insistently to the other. + +"Nay--but I have heard thine, thou Dog!" said Moussa Isa to himself, and +turning, followed. + +In a neighbouring bazaar the man who seemed to lead the other left him +at the entrance to a mosque--a dark and greasy entry with a short flight +of stone steps. + +As he set his foot upon the lowest of these, a hand fell upon the neck +of the man who had been led, and a voice hissed:-- + +"_Salaam! O Ibrahim the Weeper!_ Salaam! A '_Hubshi_' would speak with +thee...." and another hand joined the first, encircling his throat.... + +"Art thou dead, Dog?" snarled Moussa Isa, five minutes later.... + +Moussa Isa never boasted (if he realized the fact) that the collapse of +the revolt and mutiny in Gungapur, before the arrival of troops, was due +as much to the death of its chief ringleader and director, the blind +faquir, as to the disastrous repulse of the great assault upon the +Military Prison. + + + + + +Sec. 2. + + +It had gone. Nothing remained but to clear up the mess and begin afresh +with more wisdom and sounder policy. It was over, and, among other +things now possible, Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison might ask the woman +he loved whether she could some day become his wife. He had saved her +life, watched over her, served her with mind and body, lived for her. +And she had smiled upon him, looked at him as a woman looks at the man +she more than likes, had given him the encouragement of her smiles, her +trust, affectionate greeting on return from danger, prayers that he +would be "careful" when he went forth to danger. + +He believed that she loved him, and would, after a decent interval, even +perhaps a year hence, marry him. + +And then he would abandon the old life and ways, become wholly English +and settle down to make her life a happy walk through an enchanted +valley. He would take her to England and there, far from all sights, +sounds and smells of the East, far from everything wild, turbulent, +violent, crush out all the Pathan instincts so terribly aroused and +developed during the late glorious time of War. He would take himself +cruelly in hand. He would neither hunt nor shoot. He would eat no meat, +drink no alcohol, nor seek excitement. He would school himself until he +was a quiet, domesticated English country-gentleman--respectable and +respected, fit husband for a delicately-bred English gentlewoman. And if +ever his hand itched for the knife-hilt, his finger for the trigger, +his cheek for the rifle-butt, his nostrils for the smell of the +cooking-fires, his soul for the wild mountain passes, the mad gallop, +the stealthy stalk--he would live on cold water until the Old Adam were +drowned. + +He _would_ be worthy of her--and she should never dream what blood was +on his hands, what sights he had looked on, what deeds he had done, what +part he had played in wild undertakings in wild places. English would he +be to the back-bone, to the finger tips, to the marrow; a quiet, clean, +straight-dealing Englishman of normal tastes, habits, and life. + +Strange if, with all his love of fighting, he could not fight (and +conquer) himself. Yes--his last great fight should be with himself.... +He would call, to-day, at the bungalow to which Mrs. Dearman, prior to +starting for Home, had removed as soon as the carefully-guarded +Cantonment area was pronounced absolutely safe as a place of residence +for the refugees who had been besieged in the old Military Prison. + +She would be sufficiently "straight" in her bungalow, by this time, to +permit of a formal mid-day call being a reasonable and normal affair.... + +"Good-morning, Preserver of Gungapur," said Mrs. Dearman brightly; "have +the Victoria Cross and the Distinguished Service Order materialized +yet--or don't they give them to Volunteers? What a shame if they don't!" + +"I want something far more valuable and desirable than those, Mrs. +Dearman," said Colonel Ross-Ellison as he took the extended hand of his +hostess, who was a picture of coolness and health. + +"Oh?--and--what is that?" she asked, seating herself on a big settee +with her back to the light. + +"You," was the direct and uncompromising reply of the man who had been +leading a remarkably direct and uncompromising life for several years. + +Mrs. Dearman trembled, flushed and paled. + +"What _do_ you mean?" she managed to say, with a fine affectation of +coolness, unconcern, and indifference. + +"I mean what I say," was the answer. "I want _you_. I cannot live +without you. I want to take care of you. I want to devote my life to +making you happy. I want to make you forget this terrible experience and +tragedy. You are lonely and I worship you. I want you to marry me--when +you can--later--and let me serve you for the rest of my life. Make me +the happiest and proudest man in the world and I will strive to be the +noblest." + +He was very English then--in his fine passion. He took her hand and it +was not withdrawn. He bent to look in her eyes, she smiled, and in a +second was in his embrace, strained to his breast, her lips crushed by +his. + +For a minute he could not speak. + +"I cannot believe it," he whispered at length. "Is this a dream?" + +"You are a very concrete dream--dear," said Mrs. Dearman, re-arranging +crushed and disarranged flowers at her breast, blushing and laughing +shyly. + +The man was filled with awe, reverence and a deep longing for +worthiness. + +The woman felt happy in the sense of safety, of power, of pride in the +love of so fine a being. + +"And how long have you loved me?" she murmured. + +"Loved you, Cleopatra? Dearest--I have loved you from the moment my eyes +first fell on you.... Poor salt-encrusted, weary, bloodshot eyes they +were too," he added, smiling, reminiscent. + +"What do you mean?" asked Mrs. Dearman, puzzled. + +"Ah--I have a secret to tell you--a confession that will open those +beautiful eyes wide with surprise. I first saw you when you _were_ +Cleopatra Brighte." + +"Good gracious!" ejaculated Mrs. Dearman in great surprise. "When_ever_ +when?" + +"I'll tell you," said the man, smiling fondly. "You have my photograph. +You took it yourself--on board the 'Malaya'." + +"I?" said Mrs. Dearman. "What _are_ you talking about?" + +"About you, dearest, and the time when I first saw you--and fell in love +with you;--love at first sight, indeed." + +"But I never photographed you on board ship. I never saw you on a ship. +I met you first here in Gungapur." + +"Do you remember the 'Malaya' stopping to pick up a shipwrecked sailor, +a castaway, in a little dug-out canoe, somewhere in the Indian Ocean, +when you were first coming out to India? But of course you do--you have +the snap-shot in your collection...." + +"Why--yes--I remember, of course--but that was a horrid, beastly +_native_. The creature could only speak Hindustani. He was the sole +survivor of the crew of some dhow or bunder-boat, they said.... He lived +and worked with the Lascars till we got to Bombay. Yes...." + +"I was that native," said Colonel Ross-Ellison. + +"_You_," whispered Mrs. Dearman. "_You_," and scanned his face intently. + +"Yes. I. I _am_ half a native. My father was a Pathan. He----" + +"_What_?" asked the woman hoarsely, drawing away. "_What_? _What_ are +you saying?" + +"I am half Pathan--my father was a Pathan and my mother an Australian +squatter's daughter." + +"_Go_," shrieked Mrs. Dearman, springing to her feet. "_Go_. You wretch! +You mean, base liar! To cheat me so! To pretend you were a gentleman. +Leave my house! Go! You horrible--_mongrel_--you----. To take me in your +arms! To make love to me! To kiss me! Ugh! I could die for shame! I +could _die_----" + +The face of the man grew terrible to see. There was no trace of the West +in it, no sign of English ancestry, the face of a mad, blood-mad Afghan. + +"_We will both die_," he gasped, and took her by the throat. + + * * * * * + +A few minutes later a Pathan in the dirty dress of his race fled from +Colonel Ross-Ellison's bungalow in Cantonments and took the road to the +city. + +Threading his way through its tortuous lanes, alleys, slums and bazaars +he reached a low door in the high wall that surrounded an almost +windowless house, knocked in a particular manner, parleyed, and was +admitted. + +The moment he was inside, the custodian of the door slammed, locked and +bolted it, and then raised an outcry. + +"Come," he shouted in Pushtoo. "The Spy! The Feringhi! The +Pushtoo-knowing English dog, that Abdulali Habbibullah," and he drew his +Khyber knife and circled round Ross-Ellison. + +A clatter of heavy boots, the opening of wooden "windows" that looked +inward on to the high-walled courtyard, and in a minute a throng of +Pathans and other Mussulmans entered the compound from the house--some +obviously aroused from heavy slumber. + +"It is he," cried one, a squat, broad-shouldered fellow, as they stood +at gaze, and long knives flashed. + +"Oho, Spy! Aha, Dog! For what hast thou come?" asked one burly fellow as +he advanced warily upon the intruder, who backed slowly to the angle of +the high walls. + +"To die, Hidayetullah. To die, Nazir Ali Khan. To die slaying! Come on!" +was the reply, and in one moment the speaker's Khyber knife flashed from +his loose sleeve into the throat of the nearest foe. + +As he withdrew it, the door-keeper slashed at his abdomen, missed by a +hair's-breadth, raised his arm to save his neck from a slash, and was +stabbed to the heart, the knife held dagger-wise. Another Pathan rushing +forward, with uplifted knife held as a sword, was met by a sudden low +fencing-lunge and fell with a hideous wound, and then, whirling his +weapon like a claymore in an invisibly rapid Maltese cross of flashing +steel, the man who had been Ross-Ellison drove his enemies before him, +whirled about, and established himself in the opposite corner, and spat +pungent Border taunts at the infuriated crowd. + +"Come on, you village curs, you landless cripples, you wifeless sons of +burnt fathers! Come on! Strike for the credit of your noseless mothers! +Run not from me as your wives ran from you--to better men! Come on, you +sweepers, you swine-herds, you down-country street-scrapers!" and they +came on to heart's content, steel clashed on steel and thudded on flesh +and bone. + +"Get a rifle," cried one, lying bleeding on the ground, striving to rise +while he held his right shoulder to his neck with his partly severed +left hand. As he fainted the shoulder gaped horribly. + +"Get a cannon," mocked Ross-Ellison. "Get a cannon, dogs, against one +man," and again, whirling the great jade-handled knife, long as a short +sword, he rushed forward and the little mob gave ground before the +irresistible claymore-whirl, the unbreakable Maltese cross described by +the razor-edge and needle-point. + +"It is a devil," groaned a man, as his knife and his hand fell together +to the ground, and he clapped his turban on the stump as a boy claps his +hat upon some small creature that he would capture. + +The madman whirled about in the third corner and, as he ceased the wild +whirl, ducked low and lunged, lessening the number of his enemies by +one. This lunge was a new thing to men who could only slash and stab, a +new thing and a terrible, for it could not be parried save by seizing +the blade and losing half a hand. + +"Come on, you growing maidens! Come on, grandmothers! Come on, you +cleaners of pig-skins, you washers of dogs! Come on!" and as he +shouted, the door crashed down and a patrol of British soldiers, +attracted by the noise, and delayed by the stout door, burst into the +courtyard. + +"At the henemy in front, fixed sights," shouted the corporal in charge. +And added an order not to be found in the drill-book: "Blow 'em to 'ell +if they budges." + +In the hush of surprise his voice arose, addressing the fighters: +"_Bus_[70] you bleedin' soors,[71]" said Corporal Cook. "_Bus_; and you +_dekho_[72] 'ere. If any of you _jaos_[73] from where 'e is, I'll +_pukkaro_[74] 'im and give 'im a punch in the _dekho_." + + [70] Enough, stop. + [71] Swine. + [72] Look. + [73] Jao = go (imperative). + [74] Seize (imperative). + +And, as bayonets rose breast-high and fingers curled lovingly round +triggers, every knife but that of Ross-Ellison disappeared as by magic, +and the Corporal beheld a little crowd of innocent men endeavouring to +secure a dangerous lunatic at the risk of their lives--terrible risk, as +the bodies of five dead and dying men might testify. + +"I give myself up to you as a murderer, Corporal," said he who had been +Colonel John Robin Ross-Ellison. "I am a murderer. If you will take me +before your officer I will confess and give details." + +"I'm agoin' to take you bloomin' well all," replied the surprised +Corporal. "Chuck down that there beastly carvin' knife. You seem a too +'andy cove wiv' it." + +At the Corporal's order of, "Prod 'em all up agin that wall and shoot +any bloke as moves 'and or 'oof," the party of panting, bleeding and +perspiring ruffians was lined up, relieved of its weapons, and duly +marched to the guard-room. + +Here, one of the gang (later identified as the man who had been known +as John Robin Ross-Ellison, and who insisted that he was a Baluchi) +declared that he had just murdered Mrs. Dearman in her drawing-room and +made a full statement--a statement found to be only too true, its +details corroborated by a trembling _hamal_ who had peeped and listened, +as all Indian servants peep and listen. + + * * * * * + +Duly tried, all members of the gang received terms of imprisonment +(largely a prophylactic measure), save the extraordinary +English-speaking Baluchi, who had long imposed, it was said, upon +Gungapur Society in the days before that Society had disappeared in the +cataclysm. + +A few days before the date fixed for the execution of this very +remarkable desperado, Captain Michael Malet-Marsac, Adjutant of the +Gungapur Volunteer Corps, received two letters dated from Gungapur Jail, +one covering the other. The covering letter ran:-- + +"MY DEAR MALET-MARSAC, + +"I forward the enclosed. Should you desire to attend the execution you +could accompany the new City Magistrate, Wellson, who will doubtless be +agreeable. + +"Yours sincerely, + +"A. RANALD, Major I.M.S." + +The accompaniment was from John Robin Ross-Ellison Mir Ilderim Dost +Mahommed Mir Hafiz Ullah Khan. + +"MY DEAR OLD FRIEND, + +"For the credit of the British I am pretending to be a Baluchi. I am not +a Baluchi and I hope to die like a Briton--at any rate like a man. I +have been held responsible for what I did when I was not responsible, +and shall be killed in cold blood by sane people, for what I did in hot +blood when quite as mad as any madman who ever lived. I don't +complain--I _ex_plain. I want you to understand, if you can, that it was +not your friend John Ross-Ellison who did that awful deed. It was a +Pathan named Ilderim Dost Mahommed. And yet it was I." ["Poor chap is +mad!" murmured the bewildered and horrified reader who had lived in a +kind of nightmare since the woman he loved had been murdered by the man +he loved. "The strain of the war has been too much for him. He must have +had sunstroke too." He read on, with misty sight.] + +"And it is I who will pay the penalty of Ilderim Dost Mahommed's deed. +As I say, I do not complain, and if the Law did not kill me I would +certainly kill myself--to get rid of Ilderim Dost Mahommed. + +"I have thought of doing so and cheating the scaffold, but have decided +that Ilderim will get his deserts better if I hang, and I may perhaps +get rid of him, thus, for ever. + +"Will you come? I would not ask it of any living soul but you, and I ask +it because your presence would show me that you blindly believe that it +was not John Robin Ross-Ellison who killed poor Mrs. Dearman, and that +would enable me to die quite happy. Your presence would also be a great +help to me. It would help me to feel that, whatever I have lived, I die +a Briton--that if I could not live without Ilderim Dost Mahommed I can +die without him. But this must seem lunatic wanderings to you. + +"I apologize for writing to you and I hesitated long. At length I said, +'I will tell him the truth--that the deed was not done by Ross-Ellison +and perhaps he will understand, and come'. Mike--_John Robin +Ross-Ellison did not murder Mrs. Dearman_. + +"Your distracted and broken-hearted ex-friend, + +"J.R. ROSS-ELLISON." + +"He _was_ 'queer' at times," said Captain Michael Malet-Marsac. "There +was a kink somewhere. The bravest, coolest, keenest chap I ever met, the +finest fighting-man, the truest comrade and friend,--and from time to +time something queer peeped out, and one was puzzled.... Madness in the +family, I suppose.... Poor devil, poor, poor devil!" and Captain +Malet-Marsac stamped about and swore, for his eyes tingled and his chin +quivered. + + + +Sec. 3. + + +Captain Michael Malet-Marsac alighted from his horse at the great gate +of the Gungapur Jail, loosed girths, slid stirrup irons up the leathers +to the saddle, and handed his reins to the orderly who had ridden behind +him. + +"Walk the horses up and down," said he, for both were sweating and the +morning was very cold. Perhaps it was the cold that made Captain Michael +Malet-Marsac's strong face so white, made his teeth chatter and his +hands shake. Perhaps it was the cold that made him feel so sick, and +that weakened the tendons of his knees so that he could scarcely +stand--and would fain have thrown himself upon the ground. + +With a curious coughing sound, as though he swallowed and cleared his +throat at the same moment, he commenced to address another order or +remark to the mounted sepoy, choked, and turned his back upon him. + +Striding to the gate, he struck upon it loudly with his hunting-crop, +and turning, waved the waiting orderly away. + +Not for a king's ransom could he have spoken at that moment. He realized +that something which was rising in his throat must be crushed back and +swallowed before speech would be possible. If he tried to speak before +that was done--he would shame his manhood, he would do that which was +unthinkable in a man and a soldier. What would happen if the little iron +wicket in the great iron door in the greater wooden gates opened before +he had swallowed the lump in his throat, had crushed down the rising +tumult of emotion, and a European official, perhaps Major Ranald +himself, spoke to him? He must either refuse to answer, and show himself +too overcome for speech--or he must--good God forbid it--burst into +tears. He suffered horribly. His skin tingled and he burnt hotly from +head to foot. + +And then--he swallowed, his will triumphed--and he was again as +outwardly self-possessed and nonchalant as he strove to appear. + +He might tremble, his face might be blanched and drawn, he might feel +physically sick and almost too weak and giddy to stand, but he had +swallowed, he had triumphed over the rising flood that had threatened +to engulf him, and he was, outwardly, himself again. He could go through +with it now, and though his face might be ghastly, his lips white, his +hand uncertain, his gait considered and careful, he would he able to +chat lightly, to meet Ross-Ellison's jest with jest--for that +Ross-Ellison would die jesting he knew.... + +Why did not the door open? Had his knock gone unheard? Should he knock +again, louder? And then his eye fell upon the great iron bell-pull and +chain, and he stepped towards it. Of course--one entered a place like +this on the sonorous clanging of a deep-throated bell that roused the +echoes of the whole vast congeries of buildings encircled by the hideous +twelve-foot wall, unbroken save by the great gatehouse before which he +stood insignificant. As his shaking hand touched the bell-pull he +suddenly remembered, and withdrew it. He was to meet the City Magistrate +outside the jail and enter with him. He could gain admittance in no +other way. + +He looked at his watch. Seventeen minutes to seven. Wellson should be +there in a minute--he had said, "At the jail-entrance at 6.45". God send +him soon or the new-found self-control might weaken and a rising tide +creep up and up until it submerged his will-power again. + +With an effort he swallowed, and turning, strode up and down on a rapid, +mechanical sentry-go. + +A guard of police-sepoys emerged from a neighbouring guard-room and +"fell in" under the word of command of an Inspector. They were armed +with Martini-Henry rifles and triangular-bladed bayonets, very long. +Their faces looked cruel, the stones of the gate-house and main-guard +looked cruel, the beautiful misty morning looked cruel. + +Would that damned magistrate never come? Didn't he know that +Malet-Marsac was fighting for his manhood and terribly afraid? Didn't he +know that unless he came quickly Malet-Marsac would either leap on his +horse and ride it till it fell, or else lose control inside the jail and +either burst into tears, faint, or--going mad--put up a fight for his +friend there in the jail itself, snatch weapons, get back to back with +him and die fighting then and there--or, later, on the same scaffold? +His friend--by whose side he had fought, starved, suffered, +triumphed--his poor two-natured friend.... + +Could not one of these cursed clever physicians, alienists, +psychologists, hypnotists--whatever they were--have cut the strange +savagery and ferocity out of the splendid John Robin Ross-Ellison?... + +A buffalo passed, driven by a barely human lout. The lout was free--the +brainless, soulless bovine lout was free in God's beautiful world--and +Ross-Ellison, soldier and gentleman, lay in a stone cell, and in quarter +of an hour would dangle by the neck in a pit below a platform--perhaps +suffering unthinkable agonies--who could tell?... His old friend and +commandant-- + +Would Wellson never come? What kept the fellow? It was disgraceful +conduct on the part of a public servant in such circumstances. Think +what an eternity of mental suffering each minute must now be to +Ross-Ellison! What was he doing? What were they doing to him? _Could_ +the agony of Ross-Ellison be greater than that of Malet-Marsac? It must +be a thousand times greater. How could that tireless activity, that +restless initiative, that cool courage, that unfathomable ingenuity be +quenched in a second? How could such a wild free nature exist in a cell, +submit to pinioning, be quietly led like a sheep to the slaughter? He +who so loved the mountain, the wild desert, the ocean, the free +wandering life of adventure and exploration. + +Would Wellson never come? It must be terribly late. Could they have +hanged Ross-Ellison already? Could he have gone to his death thinking +his friend had failed him; had passed by, like the Levite, on the other +side; had turned up a sanctimonious nose at the letter of the Murderer; +had behaved as some "friends" do behave in time of trouble? + +Could he have died thinking this? If so, he must now know the truth, if +the Parsons were right, those unconvincing very-human Parsons of like +passions, and pretence of unlike passions. Could his friend be dead, his +friend whom he had so loved and admired? And yet he was a murderer--and +he had murdered ... _her_.... + +Captain Michael Malet-Marsac leant against a tree and was violently +sick. + +Curse the weak frail body that was failing him in his hour of need! It +had never failed him in battle nor in athletic struggle. Why should it +weaken now. He _would_ see his friend, and bear himself as a man, to +help him in his dreadful hour. + +Would that scoundrel never come? He was the one who should be hanged. + +A clatter of hoofs behind, and Malet-Marsac turned to see the City +Magistrate trot across the road from the open country. He drew out his +watch accusingly and as a torrent of reproach rose to his white parched +lips, he saw that the time was--exactly quarter to seven. + +"'Morning, Marsac," said the City Magistrate as he swung down from the +saddle. "You're looking precious blue about the gills." + +"'Morning, Wellson," replied the other shortly. + +To the City Magistrate a hanging was no more than a hair-cut, a neither +pleasing nor displeasing interlude, hindering the doing of more +strenuous duties; a nuisance, cutting into his early-morning +report--writing and other judicial work. He handed his reins to an +obsequious sepoy, eased his jodhpores at the knee, and rang the bell. + +The grille-cover slid back, a dusky face appeared behind the bars and +scrutinized the visitors, the grille was closed again and the tiny door +opened. Malet-Marsac stepped in over the foot-high base of the door-way +and found himself in a kind of big gloomy strong-room in which were +native warders and a jailer with a bunch of huge keys. On either side of +the room was an office. Following Wellson to a large desk, on which +reposed a huge book, he wrote his name, address, and business, +controlling his shaking hand by a powerful effort of will. + +This done, and the entrance-door being again locked, bolted, and barred, +the jailer led the way to another pair of huge gates opposite the pair +through which they had entered, and opened a similar small door therein. +Through this Malet-Marsac stepped and found himself, light-dazzled, in +the vast enclosure of Gungapur Jail, a small town of horribly-similar +low buildings, painfully regular streets, soul-stunning uniformity, and +living death. + +"'Morning, Malet-Marsac," said Major Ranald of the Indian Medical +Service, Superintendent of the jail. "You look a bit blue about the +gills, what?" + +"'Morning, Ranald," replied Malet-Marsac, "I _am_ a little cold." + +Was he really speaking? Was that voice his? He supposed so. + +Could he pretend to gaze round with an air of intelligent interest? He +would try. + +A line of convicts, clad in a kind of striped sacking, stood with their +backs to a wall while a native warder strode up and down in front of +them, watching another convict placing brushes and implements before +them. Suddenly the warder spoke to the end man, an elderly stalwart +fellow, obviously from the North. The reply was evidently +unsatisfactory, perhaps insolent, for the warder suddenly seized the +grey beard of the convict, tugged his head violently from side to side, +shook him, and then smote him hard on either cheek. The elderly convict +gave no sign of having felt either the pain or the indignity, but gazed +straight over the warder's head. Of what was he thinking? Of what might +be the fate of that warder were he suddenly transported to the wilds of +Kathiawar, to lie at the mercy of his late victim and the famous band of +outlaws whom he had once led to fame--a fame as wide as Ind? + +There was something fine about the old villain, once a real Robin Hood, +something mean about the little tyrant. + +Had Ranald seen the incident? No, he stood with his back to a buttress +looking in the opposite direction. Did he always stand with a wall +behind him in this terrible place? How could he live in it? A minute of +it made one sick if one were cursed with imagination. Oh, the horror of +the prison system--especially for brave men, men with a code of honour +of their own--possibly sometimes a higher code than that of the average +British politician, not to mention the be-knighted cosmopolitan +financier, friend of princes and honoured of kings. + +Could not men be segregated in a place of peace and beauty and improved, +instead of being segregated in a dull hell and crushed? What a home of +soulless, hopeless horror!... And his friend was here.... Could he +contain himself?... He must say something. + +"Do you always keep your back to a wall when standing still, in here?" +he asked of Major Ranald. + +"I do," was the reply, "and I walk with a trustworthy man close behind +me." "Would you like to go round, sometime?" he added. + +"No, thank you," said Malet-Marsac. "I would like to get as far away as +possible and stay there." + +Major Ranald laughed. + +"Wouldn't like to visit the mortuary and see a post-mortem?" + +"No, thank you." + +"What about the Holy One?" put in the City Magistrate. "Did you +'autopsy' him? A pleasure to hang a chap like him." + +"Yes, the brute. I'll show you his neck vertebrae presently if you like. +Kept 'em as a curiosity. An absolute break of the bone itself. People +talk about pain, strangulation, suffocation and all that. Nothing of +the sort. Literally breaks the neck. Not mere separation of the +vertebrae you know. I'll show you the vertebra itself--clean broken...." + +Captain Malet-Marsac swayed on his feet. What should he do? A blue mist +floated before his eyes and a sound of rushing waters filled his ears. +Was he fainting? He must _not_ faint, and fail his friend. And then, the +roar of the waters was pierced and dominated by the voice of that friend +saying-- + +"Hul_lo_! old bird. Awf'ly good of you to turn out, such a beastly cold +morning." + +John Robin Ross-Ellison had come round an adjacent corner, a European +warder on either side of him and another behind him, all three, to their +credit, as white as their white uniforms and helmets. On his head was a +curious bag-like cap. + +Ross-Ellison appeared perfectly cheerful, absolutely natural, and +without the slightest outward and visible sign of any form of +perturbation. + +"'Morning, Ranald," he continued. "Sorry to be the cause of turning you +out in the cold. Gad! _isn't_ it parky. Hope you aren't going to keep me +standing. If I might be allowed I'd quote unto you the words which a +pretty American girl once used when I asked if I might kiss her--'_Wade +right in, Bub!_'" + +"'Fraid I can't 'wade in' till seven o'clock--er--Ross-Ellison," +answered the horribly embarrassed Major Ranald. "It won't be long." + +"Right O, I was only thinking of your convenience. _I'm_ all right," +said the remarkable criminal, about to suffer by the Mosaic law at the +hands of Christians, to receive Old Testament mercy from the disciples +of the New, to be done-by as he had done. + +An Indian clerk, salaaming, joined the group, and prepared to read from +an official-looking document. + +"Read," said Major Ranald, and the clerk in a high sing-song voice, +regardless of punctuation, read out the charge, conviction and +death-warrant of the man formerly calling himself John Robin +Ross-Ellison, and now professing and confessing himself to be a Baluchi. +Having finished, the clerk smiled as one well pleased with a duty well +performed, salaamed and clacked away in his heelless slippers. + +"It is my duty to inquire whether you have anything to say or any last +request to make," said Major Ranald to the prisoner. + +"Well, I've only to say that I'm sorry to cause all this fuss, y' +know--and, well, yes, I _would_ like a smoke," replied the condemned +man, and added hastily: "Don't think I want to delay things for a moment +though--but if there is time...." + +"It is four minutes to seven," said Major Ranald, "and tobacco and +matches are not supposed to be found in a Government Jail." + +Ross-Ellison winked at the Major and glanced at a bulge on the right +side of the breast of the Major's coat. + +At this moment the warder standing behind the condemned man seized both +his wrists, drew them behind him and fastened them with a broad, strong +strap. + +"H'm! That's done it, I suppose," said the murderer. "Can't smoke +without my hands. Queer idea too--never thought of it before. Can't +smoke without hands.... Rather late in life to realize it, what?" + +"Oh, yes, you can," said the Major, drawing his big silver cheroot-case +from his pocket and selecting a cheroot. Placing it between the +prisoner's lips he struck a match and held it to the end of the cigar. +Ross-Ellison drew hard and the cigar was lit. He puffed luxuriously and +sighed. + +"Gad! That's good," he said, "May some one do as much for you, old chap, +when _you_ come to be--er--no, I don't mean that, of course.... Haven't +had a smoke for weeks. Yes--you can smoke without hands after all--but +not for long without feeling the inconvenience. I used to know an +American (wicked old gun-running millionaire he was, Cuba way, and down +South too) who could change his cigar from one corner of his mouth right +across to the other with his tongue. Fascinatin' sight to watch...." + +Captain Malet-Marsac swallowed continuously, lest he lose the faculty of +swallowing--and be choked. + +Major Ranald looked at his watch. + +"Two minutes to seven. Come on," he said, and took the cheroot from the +prisoner's mouth. + +"Good-bye, Mike," said that person to the swallowing fainting wretch. +"Don't try and say anything. I know exactly what you feel. Sorry we +can't shake hands," and he stepped off in the wake of Major Ranald, +closely guarded by three warders. + +The City Magistrate and Captain Malet-Marsac followed. At Major Ranald's +knock, the small inner door of the gate-house was opened and the +procession filed through it into the strong room where the warders +stood to attention. Having re-fastened the door, the jailer opened the +outer one and the procession passed out of the jail into the blessed +free world, the world that might be such a place of wonder, beauty, +delight, health and joy, were man not educated to materialism, false +ideals, false standards, and blind strife for nothing worth. + +The sepoy-guard stood in a semicircle from the gate-house to the +entrance to a door-way in the jail-wall. Ross-Ellison took his last look +at the sky, the distant hills, the trees, God's good world, and then +turned into the doorless door-way with his jailers, and faced the +scaffold in a square, roofless cell. The warder behind him drew the cap +down over his face, and he was led up a flight of shallow stairs on to a +platform on which was a roughly-chalked square where two hinged flaps +met. As he stood on this spot the noose of the greased rope was placed +round his neck by a warder who then looked to Major Ranald for a sign, +received it, and pulled over a lever which withdrew the bolts supporting +the hinged flaps. These fell apart, Ross-Ellison dropped through the +platform, and Christian Society was avenged. + +Without a word, Captain Malet-Marsac strode, as in a dream, to his +horse, rode home, and, as in a dream, entered his sanctum, took his +revolver from its holster and loaded it. + +Laying it on the table beside him, he sat down to write a few words to +the Colonel of his regiment, Colonel Wilberforce Wriothesley of the 99th +Baluch Light Infantry, and to send his will to a brother-officer whom he +wished to be his executor. + +This done, he took up the revolver, placed the muzzle in his mouth, the +barrel pointing upward, and--pulled the trigger. + +_Click_! + +And nothing more. + +A tiny, nerve-shattering, world-shaking, little universe-rocking +_click_--and nothing more. + +A bad cartridge. He remembered complaints about the revolver ammunition +from the Duri Small Arms Ammunition Factory. Too long in stock. + +Should he try the same one again, or go on to the next? Probably get +better results from the first, as the cap would be already dented by the +concussion. He took the muzzle of the big revolver from his aching mouth +and, releasing the chamber, spun it round.... He would place it to his +temple this time. Holding one's mouth open was undignified. He raised +the revolver--and John Bruce burst into the room. He had seen +Malet-Marsac ride by, and knew where he had been. + +"Half a second!" he shouted. "News! Do that afterwards." + +"What is it?" asked Malet-Marsac, taken by surprise. + +"Put that beastly thing in the drawer while I tell you, then. It might +go off. I hate pistols," said Bruce. + +Malet-Marsac obeyed. Bruce was a man to be listened to, and what had to +be done could be done when he had gone. If it were some last piece of +duty or service, it should be seen to. + +"It is this," said Bruce. "You are a liar, a forger, a thief, a dirty +pickpocket, a coward, a seller of secrets to Foreign Powers," and, ere +the astounded soldier could speak, John Bruce sprang at him and tried to +knock him out. "Take that you greasy cad--and fight me if you dare," he +shouted as the other dodged his punch. + +Malet-Marsac sprang to his feet, furious, and returned the blow. In a +second the men were fighting fiercely, coolly, murderously. + +Bruce was the bigger, stronger, more scientific, and there could be but +one result, given ordinary luck. It was a long, severe, and punishing +affair. + +"Time," gasped Malet-Marsac at length, and dropped his hands. +"Get--breath--fight--decently--time--'nother round--after," and as he +spoke Bruce knocked him down and out, proceeding instantly to tie his +feet with the punkah-cord and his hands with two handkerchiefs and a +pair of braces. This done, he carried him into his bedroom, and laid him +on the bed, and sprinkled his face with water. + +Malet-Marsac blinked and stirred. + +"Awful sorry, old chap," said Bruce at length. "I thought it the best +plan. Will you give me your word to chuck the suicide idea, or do you +want some more?" + +"You damned fool! I...." began the trussed one. + +"Yes, I know--but I solemnly swear I won't untie you, nor let anybody +else, until you've promised." + +Malet-Marsac swore violently, struggled valiantly and, anon, slept. + +When he awoke, ten hours later, he informed Bruce, sitting by the bed, +that he had no intention of committing suicide.... + +Years later, as a grey-haired Major, he learnt, from the man's own +brother, the story of the strange hero who had fascinated him, and of +whose past he had known nothing--save that it had been that of a _man_. + + + + + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Driftwood Spars, by Percival Christopher Wren + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DRIFTWOOD SPARS *** + +***** This file should be named 11691.txt or 11691.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/6/9/11691/ + +Produced by Ted Garvin and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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