My work was hard at Rambagh, for I had no measured hours. I was
ambitious too; eager to master my profession, and in constant dread of
exciting derision by making some mistake.
Perhaps some lads of my age would not have worked so hard, but would
have contented themselves by acquiring the necessary knowledge slowly;
but that did not accord with my ideas, and I eagerly attended all the
early morning drills, and though the sergeant sourly said that I wanted
a deal of setting up, and the riding-master laughingly told me that I
looked like a tailor on horseback, I suppose I got on pretty well. At
any rate, I was able to keep my place without making many outrageous
blunders.
I suppose it was a good deal due to the petting bestowed upon him, but I
found my charger--the Sheik--as I called him, at Captain Brace's
suggestion, grew quite attached to me, and would follow me like a dog.
And in spite of the intense heat, it was a pleasant life when I grew
more used to my work, and less conscious and afraid of ridicule. I had
my servants, who were very obedient and servile, but not at all
attentive. I was too easy with them, Barton said, and he told me that a
good kicking would do them good. Certainly his men flew to obey every
word, and shrank at every look.
"And hate him like poison," Captain Brace said bitterly.
But they did not show their hatred, if Brace was right; and no officer
rode out to parade in better trim than Barton.
One hot day, as I was seated panting at my shuttered window, I saw that
Barton's way of treating the syces was imitated by his subordinates, for
one of the Serjeants, for some reason or another, raised his hand to
strike a white-clothed figure across the enclosure, but altered his
mind, and kicked him instead, with the result that the man shrank away,
but made no sign, and I could not help thinking what a tyrant the white
man was to the conquered black.
I don't know how it was, but as I lay back in my chair weary after a
heavy morning drill, and drowsy from the effects of a good breakfast, I
kept my eyes on the white-clothed figure whom the serjeant had kicked.
He had stood like a statue till the serjeant had gone into the barracks,
but as soon as the officer's back was turned, I saw him glance round
sharply, and then he appeared to be speaking to the natives near him in
a quick excited way.
From where I lay back, it was like looking at some photograph, every
figure stood out so sharply in the bright sunshine, and I was just
thinking that I did not feel so indignant at what had taken place as I
had when I had first witnessed such a thing, when I half sleepily
noticed that the native had left the group of syces by the open doorway
which looked black on the white walls. Then he appeared to be crossing
the great barrack square, and passed out of my sight, while my eyes
closed, and I was dropping off to sleep, when I started wide-awake again
listening.
The sound which had aroused me was repeated close to the open window,
and it was a sharp hissing drawing in of the breath, as of one in pain;
and directly after the _syce_ who had crossed over to my side of the
square, passed my window, halting slightly, and with a strange
expression on his face, which impressed me even then. As I watched him
it passed away, and he drew himself up, walking as usual, and salaaming
to some one approaching in the opposite direction, and Major Lacey and
Captain Brace sauntered by, while I lay thinking about the syce's
expression, and the patient way in which he had hidden the pain from
which he was suffering. I had recognised him, too, as the tall,
handsome native who had been struck by Barton--a man who, ever since,
had saluted me with a grave, gentle smile.
"It's too bad," I was saying to myself; and then, in my listless
weariness, I was dropping off to sleep again, as I generally did after a
hard drill, when my black servant entered silently, and presented me
with a little packet.
"What is it?" I said lazily.
"No know, sahib. Ny Deen bring, and say tell master dhoby man keep it
and couldn't get back."
I opened the packet, which smelt most fragrantly, and found first some
white flowers, and beneath them, very carefully washed, ironed, and
scented, a pocket-handkerchief.
"Mine," I said half wonderingly, and then I grasped what it meant. "Did
that syce, Lieutenant Barton's man, bring this just now?"
"Yes, sahib. Ny Deen."
"That will do," I said; and I lay back thinking of the morning when I
saw the man come out of Barton's quarters bleeding, and bound up the
cut.
"A set of black scoundrels, are they," I said to myself. "Well, some of
them have feeling, and a way of showing their gratitude."
I took up and smelt the fragrant white blossoms thoughtfully; and then I
remember saying to myself, for those events were stamped pretty deeply
in my memory--
"An Englishman would never have dreamed of sending flowers like that. I
dare say it means something, if one only knew."
A few days after, when I had almost forgotten the incident, save that I
always politely returned Ny Deen's salute when I passed him, I was
returning to my quarters one evening, when--not at all an uncommon
thing--I heard loud voices in front, and saw that three of our men were
going unsteadily along, evidently after too long a stay at one of the
wretched places where they were supplied with the poisonous arrack which
was answerable for the miserable death of so many British soldiers. One
of the men in particular was in that noisy, excited state when reason
seems to have run riot, and folly and madness have been taken for
companions.
The man's two companions were greatly under the influence of drink, but
they had sense enough left to try and control their drunken friend; and
as I kept back unseen in the darkness, I saw them check the fellow when
an insane desire had come upon him to kick and hammer at the officers'
quarters; and later on they engaged in a struggle, when he swore that he
would go and let loose every horse in the troop.
All this made me so indignant with the idiot that I was several times on
the point of interfering, but I thought that nature would punish the
fellow enough the next day, and kept back, waiting to see the others get
him to his quarters.
But, in spite of my determination, I found myself unexpectedly dragged
into the affair; for, just as they were near Lieutenant Barton's
quarters, two of the syces' wives came by, and with a shout the man
escaped from his comrades' grasp, made a rush at the two frightened
women, and caught one of them in his arms.
She cried aloud for help, and a couple of the native servants rushed
out; one of them seizing the drunken gunner, and, in the brief struggle
which ensued, I saw the two women run away, while their assailant held
on to one of the white-clothed men, and, steadying himself, began
striking him savagely, while the syce made no resistance, but passively
received the blows.
"The fool!" I said to myself, as I hurried up, thinking that if it had
been an Englishman instead of a native, our drunken gunner would have
received a severe thrashing. I did not pause to consider any
consequences, but just watched my opportunity, and as the Englishman
struck the syce heavily with his right hand, as he held the poor fellow
with his left, I, too, delivered a stinging blow, as I ran in, right in
the gunner's ear, and then stood astonished at what I had done. For the
next moment the fellow had gone down heavily, his head striking against
a stone, and then he rolled over and lay still, with the syce standing
close by looking on.
"You've killed him, sir," said one of the man's comrades, as he went
down on one knee by his side and raised his head.
"Serve the brute right," I said passionately.
"Yes; he's pretty bad," growled the other, as he, too, bent down over
his comrade, the affair having pretty well sobered them, as it had
sobered me, too; for a chill of horror ran through me at the very
thought of the man's words being true.
"Here, you," I said roughly; "go and tell the sergeant of the guard.
What, you in trouble again, Ny Deen?"
"Yes, sahib," said the syce softly, for I had recognised Barton's groom.
He ran off quickly, and the sergeant and a couple of men came up just as
Barton was returning to his quarters.
"Hillo! what's up?" he said; "an accident?"
"No," I said shortly; "this drunken fellow was insulting our women, and
then ill-using your syce for protecting them, and I knocked him down."
"And you have done it, sir," grumbled the sergeant. "I'm afraid he
isn't going to come to."
Barton bent down over the man, who, I now saw, by a stable-lantern, was
bleeding from the head, and the chill of horror increased as the
lieutenant rose.
"Here," he said; "carry him into hospital. Be smart. You, sergeant, go
and rouse up the doctor."
"Yes, sir;" and the men hurried off.
"He'll be pleased," said Barton to me, with a cynical laugh. "He has
had nothing but cholera cases and a broken arm to see to for months.
But, I say, Don Quixote, you've put your foot in it this time."
"Enough to make me." I cried petulantly. "I can't stand by and see men
such brutes."
We stopped and saw the insensible man carried into the building used as
an infirmary, and by that time the doctor, who had been dining with
Major Lacey--Brace being of the party--came into the building, and was
followed by the above-named officers, who looked on in silence till the
surgeon made his report.
"Concussion of the brain, I'm afraid," he said shortly. "Bad for a man
in his state. This fellow is always on the drink. He must have fallen
very heavily. Was he fighting?"
"Yes--no," I said, rather confusedly.
"Not very clear, Vincent," said the major. "Which was he doing?"
"The fact is, sir, he was brutally ill-using one of the syces, who did
not dare to defend himself, and I knocked the fellow down."
"Oh!" said the major, coldly; and he walked away, but turned back.
"You had better go to your quarters, sir," he said. "I suppose we can
do you no good, Danby?"
"No; thanks. Only let me have the nurse. Place will be cooler without
company."
I went to my quarters, feeling as if the whole of my military career had
come to an end through my passionate, quixotic behaviour; and yet
somehow I could not deeply regret my action.
I was sitting in my dim room, watching the moths and flies circling
round the shaded lamp, when I received a summons to go to the major's
quarters, and on going across I found Brace there, and the doctor.
"This is a serious matter, Vincent," said the major. "Dr Danby gives a
very bad account of this man's state. How did it all happen? Tell me
everything."
I explained all the circumstances, and then there was a pause. I
glanced at Brace, who sat there in the shade, so that I could not see
his face, and a curious sensation of misery attacked me as I began to
think of court-martials, and dismissal, or resignation, if there were no
worse punishment, and my brain had already pictured the man's death,
with the following military funeral, and volleys fired over the grave,
when the major said--
"We must wait and see how this matter turns out, Vincent. It will be a
most painful thing for me to report at head-quarters. But I will say no
more to-night, only to warn you that you are too quixotic."
That word again! How I did loathe it then.
"I have a great objection myself to seeing the natives beaten, and I
have more than once punished men for it; but it will not do for a junior
officer like you to take upon yourself the defence of every black whom
you consider ill-used. There, sir; you can return to your quarters.
No, no, don't say anything to-night. Go back, and think of what I have
said. Going, Brace?"
"Yes," said the captain, rising. "I'll walk back with Vincent: you
don't want me any longer. I'll see Danby again to-night, and hear how
the man is going on."
A minute later I was walking across in the darkness, with Brace, waiting
for him to speak, and listening to the regular tramp of the sentry near
us, and the softer sound of another at a distance, like an echo of the
one by the officers' quarters.
But we had reached my quarters, and still Brace did not speak.
"Good night," I said, coldly.
"I am very sorry, Vincent," he said, ignoring my extended hand; and I
felt, more than ever, that we never could be friends.
"Then you think I have done very wrong?" I said bitterly.
"Yes, very wrong. As an officer, you had no right to strike one of the
men."
"Then you would have me stand by and see the poor fellows about us
struck, kicked, and insulted, until it is beyond bearing," I cried
passionately. "I declare I wonder sometimes that they don't rise up
against us, and put an end to the cruel oppression from which they
suffer."
"Hush!" he said gravely. "You are letting your tongue get the better of
your discretion, Vincent. You, a young officer, can only amend these
ways by your example. You must see, when you are cooler, that you have
been guilty of a grave breach of discipline. I am speaking as your
brother-officer, who sincerely wishes to see you rise in the profession
you have chosen. We have been thrown together, and I hoped, by my
experience, to help you--one so much younger--living, as you are, among
strangers. It is not a pleasant task, Vincent, for I cannot help seeing
that you resent my interference often, and think me cold, hard, and
unsympathetic. There, good night for the present. I will come on
later, and report how the man is."
He turned on his heel, and I stood listening to the tramp of his feet
till he turned in to his own quarters, while I sat down to think, after
telling the servants to go to bed.
It was a miserable night for me. The window was open, and the hot wind
came in, making me feel so low and depressed, that life was almost
unbearable. There was the _ping, ping, ping_, of the mosquitoes, and
the piteous wailing shriek of the jackals as they hunted in a pack, and
there, too, was the monotonous tramp of the sentry, hour after hour.
"Asleep, Vincent?"