HONOUR AND HONOURS.
The course of events proved Charteris to be a good prophet.
Condemnation of the method adopted by Gerrard in attempting the arrest
of Sher Singh was universal. It was not the Brigadier alone who
pointed out, with much wealth of language, that the proper course would
have been to report his suspicions as to the Rajah's hiding-place, and
leave it to his superiors to detail a sufficient force--of which he
himself might or might not have formed a part--to effect the capture,
for the whole army were on the same side. The charitable said that
Gerrard was vilely selfish in trying to secure all the honour and glory
for himself alone, the malicious that even if there was no question of
loot--which was hardly to be imagined--it was pretty clear that he had
been on the look-out to avenge the slights put upon him by Sher Singh
when he was acting-Resident at Agpur, and that he had achieved his
object by murdering the unfortunate Rajah in a hole. It was in vain
that Charteris pointed out to every one he could induce to listen to
him that the idea of surprising the Rajah in his concealment had been
his originally, and that he had taken a prominent part in the affair;
the comment, as soon as his back was turned, was that the two natives
concerned in it both belonged to Gerrard's force, which looked bad, and
that the friendship which linked Charteris himself with Gerrard was of
a character to rise superior to mere accuracy. This uncharitable view
of the exploit penetrated to Ranjitgarh, and drew from Sir Edmund
Antony a grieved and reproachful letter such as even Gerrard's
veneration for his chief could not brook with meekness. He replied
with so warm a remonstrance as made Charteris shrug his shoulders in
despair, though he acknowledged, on the receipt of a hearty and ample
apology, that his friend knew Sir Edmund better than he did.
Since Sher Singh was dead, and not to be restored to life, the
Government was in reality freed from a very serious embarrassment. One
of his numerous youthful sons was chosen as the representative of the
family, but not seated on the _gaddi_, since all Granthi institutions
were in a state of flux for the present, and it was highly probable
that the titular Rajah of Agpur would in future lead a secluded and
uneventful existence as a pensioner on the Company's bounty. The new
bearer of the title, with Sher Singh's wives and remaining children,
was removed a safe distance into British territory, and the work of
pacifying the state, by hunting down the remains of the insurgent army
and of the revolted Granthi regiments, proceeded apace. In fact, it
was so quickly done that new force was given to a body of opinion that
was gradually gathering strength. Now that the Agpur campaign could be
viewed as a successful whole, men began to contrast it with that other
warfare which was engaging the energies of the Commander-in-Chief and
the entire Bengal Army. Sher Singh's revolt had really been nipped in
the bud, since he and his army had been strictly confined within the
limits, first of his state and then of his capital, from the moment of
the outbreak. Had he been allowed to sweep unchecked across his
borders, and uniting with Abd-ur-Rashid Khan of Ethiopia, stir up the
western half of Granthistan against the Durbar and the British, as the
discontented Granthi Sirdars and soldiers of fortune had raised the
eastern portion, how would it have been possible to cope with the
situation? That it had not arisen was due to the insight and
initiative of one man, Lieutenant Robert Charteris of the Bengal
Fusiliers, who had had the skill to plan, and the courage to execute,
the necessary measures, in independence, even in disregard, of the
orders sent him.
Lieutenant Robert Charteris became a hero, for public opinion, once
reversed in his favour, was not minded to do things by halves.
Moreover, the growing tide was swollen by the arrival of advices from
England, showing that the lords of the East at the India House, and
military circles generally, had conceived, on the strength of the
reports of Charteris's doings up to the time he was superseded by
Brigadier Speathley, the view of his exploits to which India itself was
just coming round. The home authorities backed their opinion by
tangible marks of favour. The greatest living soldier, mention from
whose lips was in itself an honour, recommended Lieutenant Charteris to
her Majesty for promotion, and her Majesty was pleased also to confer
upon him a Commandership of the Bath, while the India Board decided to
present him with a gold medal suitably inscribed. These distinctions
were enumerated with due solemnity in a General Order of the Government
of India, which contained also a passing reference to "the praiseworthy
co-operation afforded by the troops of H.H. the Nuwaub of Hubsheeabad,
accompanied by Lieutenant Henry Gerrard, Engineers." That was all.
The General Order and the news it enshrined were received with much
more equanimity by Gerrard than by his fortunate friend. Charteris
could not contain himself, and Gerrard's calmness only increased his
indignation.
"It's a sell, it's a do, it's an unmitigated chouse!" he proclaimed.
"And why don't you put it down to me, Hal? Any other fellow would have
done that long ago."
"Because I saw your reports, old boy, and I know that ain't the reason.
It's only what I had to expect."
"But the disgusting unfairness of it--in our circumstances especially!"
lamented Charteris. "I can't get over that."
"My dear fellow, you know that the person of whom we are both thinking
would no more be influenced by a gold medal or a C.B. than by a diamond
necklace. No, hang it! the plan was yours, and the execution was
yours. I backed you up, you say? Well, then, put on my tombstone, 'He
was a good second,' and I ask no more."
But Charteris could not bring himself to take this philosophic view of
the case, and went about abusing the authorities and cursing the
injustice of fate, until he drew down upon himself a rebuke from James
Antony.
"Since you can neither refuse your honours nor share them, my good
fellow, you may as well wear them gracefully," he said. "As it is, you
are doing Gerrard no good. He was unlucky in his first post, which has
told against him, but he is a capable man, and bound to come to the
front eventually, provided his friends don't spoil his chances."
The shrewd common-sense of the advice silenced Charteris's murmurs, and
he faced with less outward rebelliousness the prospect of a week or two
at Ranjitgarh. This was a mere interlude before plunging again into
the main current of battle. The Governor-General was coming to the
Granthi capital to take counsel with the Commander-in-Chief as to the
further course of the war, which had not hitherto been conducted with
conspicuous success, and the honours for the Agpur campaign were to be
conferred. The cantonments and the Residency were full, and
Brevet-Major Charteris, C.B., was glad to share his former restricted
quarters with Gerrard. The Edmund Antonys were in occupation of the
house again, James Antony and his wife retiring into two rooms of the
main block, while Lady Cinnamond was once more at Government House.
With her had come down from the hills Marian Cowper, a sorrowful figure
in the heavy weeds then worn by even the youngest widows, but taking up
the burden of life again bravely. If she still shrank from Honour, it
was only they and their mother who could perceive it. Sir Arthur
Cinnamond arrived from the front with the Commander-in-Chief for a week
about Christmas time, and it so happened that Gerrard came suddenly
upon Honour riding with her father the day after his arrival. She wore
a habit made like the uniform of Sir Arthur's famous Peninsular
regiment--a fashion which probably owed its vogue to the semi-military
costume adopted by the young Queen Victoria for reviews. Civilian
ladies--whose husbands had no uniform to be copied--called it fast, or
at least 'spirited,' (Gerrard had heard Mrs James Antony animadverting
upon it only that morning,) but the severe lines of the coat suited
Honour well in combination with the long trailing skirt and the broad
hat with its drooping feather. As he rode up to the pair, and noted
the serious face and the firm lines of the mouth, it struck Gerrard as
curiously ironical that to a girl of this type should have fallen such
a prolonged period of indecision as Honour had undergone between the
claims of Charteris and himself. The thought was still in his mind
when she glanced round and saw him, and the change in her face was like
the waking into life of a statue. The lines softened, the eyes
dropped, and a wave of crimson flooded forehead and cheeks. Sir Arthur
shouted a hearty welcome to Gerrard, commanded him to dinner that
evening, to meet his eldest son, who was on the Headquarters Staff, and
turned judiciously to speak to some one else. Honour's eyes were on
her horse's mane, Gerrard's were devouring her face, but for the moment
both of them were tongue-tied. Honour recovered herself first, and
spoke with a desperate effort.
"And--and how is Major Charteris?" she asked, and Gerrard's revived
hope died on the spot. He could not understand afterwards why he did
not fall from his horse. What he answered he never knew, but it seemed
that he had laughed aloud, for Sir Arthur turned quickly and looked at
him. A certain severity, disappointment, puzzled inquiry, were in the
glance, but Gerrard had wrenched his horse round and was riding away,
leaving the General still looking after him. He rode headlong back to
the Residency, and with the impulse of a wounded creature seeking
concealment, made straight for his own quarters in the inner courtyard.
On the verandah he paused abruptly, for Charteris was sitting there
reading a tattered number of _Bell's Life_. He tried to speak, but no
words would come, and Charteris looked up and saw him.
"Why, Hal!" he cried. Gerrard brushed past him hastily.
"I've seen her. It's you, Bob," he jerked out, and threw himself on
his cot. Charteris had sprung from his chair, but turned back on the
verandah step.
"Hal, old boy, I'm uncommon sorry. You do believe it, don't you?"
"I do. And you know you are the only man----"
Charteris's hand was on his shoulder a moment as the words failed him,
and then his ringing footsteps went down into the courtyard, and
Gerrard heard him shouting for his horse. The man who had all went out
into the sunshine, the man who had nothing was left. To keep himself
from tracing the sound of the horse's feet growing faint in the
distance as the happy lover rode away, Gerrard forced himself to plan
for the future. He must leave Ranjitgarh, and at once; he could not
stay and watch the happiness of the pair, lest he should grow to hate
them both. Bob would understand, Bob would not expect it. Some day he
might be able to stand it, but now---- He had not realised how firmly
he was building on Honour's parting words; he had not doubted that the
blush just now was for him. But it was for Bob, and Bob was worthy of
any woman's love, even of that of the woman of women. "Heaven bless
them both!" groaned Gerrard, and rolled over with his face to the wall
to make his plans. He must wait to wring Bob's hand when he returned
triumphant, but after that he would go. Bob would take his place at
the Cinnamonds' dinner-table, would sit next to Honour, would---- No,
it did not bear thinking of; that way madness lay. To his own plans!
He would go back to his Habshiabadis, and move heaven and earth to get
the help of the contingent accepted by the Commander-in-Chief. If not,
and when the war was over--no, he could not face the solitude of his
position at Habshiabad again. Had he not General Desdichado as a
warning of the depths to which an isolated European, without hope and
without ambition, could sink? There was a place for him elsewhere.
Coming events were casting their shadows before them, and there could
be little doubt that the close of the war would see the annexation of
Granthistan. Sir Edmund Antony, who had striven so zealously and with
such a single eye against annexation, would not stay to see it; his
brother James would be the man of the hour when the step was taken.
The Governor-General would be just, even delicate, in his treatment of
the vanquished; Sir Edmund would not be shelved, but transferred to
some other post where his tenderness for native susceptibilities would
be an advantage instead of a drawback. Thither Gerrard would accompany
him. Had not Sir Edmund said to him that morning, almost wistfully, "I
should like to have you with me, Gerrard, when I am kicked out of
Granthistan"? and he had answered eagerly that he could desire nothing
better--then paused suddenly, remembering that there might be some one
else to consult as to the ordering of his life.
There were steps in the courtyard, a foot on the verandah. Gerrard lay
still and pretended to be asleep. He could not face Bob at this
moment, when the realisation of all he had lost had returned upon him
with such overwhelming force. But Charteris strode across to him and
shook him savagely.
"You everlasting fool, it's you!"
He pulled him off the cot, and Gerrard sat on the edge and stared at
him stupidly. Charteris was standing with his back to him, very busy
about a buckle.
"Well?" he barked out. "You ain't going to do anything--eh? Think it
was a pleasant thing for a girl to have to tell the wrong man? Going
to leave her to think about it?"
"Of course not. I am going to her," said Gerrard wonderingly.
Something astonishing had happened, but he could not for the moment
realise what it was. He had got as far as the verandah step when he
felt Charteris's hands on his shoulders, and was forcibly dragged back.
"Of all the fools!" said an exasperated voice. "Off you go, with no
cap, and a head like a haystack. Do you remember that they have a
_burra khana_[1] on? Do you want to be turned back for a lunatic?
Dress first and get there early, and then speak to her. Call your boy,
can't you? Why I should have to dry-nurse you----!"
Gerrard obeyed meekly, grateful to Charteris for giving the bearer his
orders and presiding over his execution of them. The bearer, on the
contrary, was much insulted. His master was like a lay-figure in his
hands, but Chatar Sahib must needs take it upon himself to direct and
correct operations in an unpleasant parade voice, causing many
unnecessary starts and much perturbation of mind to a highly efficient
servant who had most definite ideas on the subject of what his Sahib
should wear to a burra khana. Gerrard's horse and groom came round,
and Charteris's self-imposed task was not over until he had seen him
safely mounted. Before starting, Gerrard turned and held out his hand.
"Bob, old boy?"
"Hang it, Hal! go in and win."
Some sense of reality began to return to Gerrard's mind as he rode
forth under the archway, but it made little impression upon his brain
when Mrs James Antony ran out upon the verandah he was passing.
"James, how late you are, love! Oh, Mr Gerrard, if you meet my
husband, pray beg him to make haste. We are dining at the General's,
and he has not returned from his ride."
Gerrard promised mechanically, and forgot all about the promise as soon
as it was uttered. He arrived at Government House somehow, and
immediately became the cause of much disturbance of mind to the
servants, who were scandalized at his early arrival, and still more so
at his demand to see the Miss Sahib. Honour's own ayah was fetched to
assure him that "Missy Sahib done dress," which meant exactly the
opposite of what it sounded like, and the highly responsible
head-bearer ventured to advise the Sahib to take a little ride, and
return in half an hour or so. But Gerrard was not to be so easily
dismissed.
"Tell the Miss Sahib that I will wait as long as she chooses, but that
I must speak to her before dinner," he said.
"_Shabash_,[2] Gerrard! Nothing like putting your foot down in good
time," cried James Antony, charging out of the house and mounting his
waiting pony. "If only the General and I had done it, we should not
both be in fear of our lives at this moment. You owe me a good turn
for making him late."
If Sir Arthur was late in dressing, his daughter must have been very
early, for Gerrard had not been sitting long in the smaller
drawing-room, sadly incommoding the servants who were lighting the
candles in their glass shades, when Honour came into the room,
fastening her short gloves, with a defiant swish of white silk flounces.
"You sent me a very peremptory message just now, Mr Gerrard."
Any one less preoccupied than Gerrard would have detected a suspicion
of trembling in the clear tones, but he was too much taken aback by the
accusation hurled at him.
"I am very sorry. Nothing could have been further----"
"So I just came to tell you that I am not accustomed to messages of
that kind, and to beg you not to do it again." Holding her head very
high, she turned to sweep out of the room, but Gerrard was at the door
before her.
"No, not without letting me speak!" he entreated incoherently. "If you
knew what it means to me, how long I have looked forward----! That
noble fellow Charteris gave me your message----"
"I think you must be dreaming, Mr Gerrard!" The chilly indignation of
her tone brought him to himself. "I send you a message by Major
Charteris? Never!"
"Forgive me; I hardly know what I am saying. He told me you had
refused him, and I thought that it might be because--that there might
be some one else."
"But even then?" She still faced him bravely, though the affectation
of polite interest in her tones was very difficult to keep up.
"You can't pretend not to understand--after everything----"
"But it might not be----"
"Oh no, no!" the pain in his voice brought the tears to her eyes.
"Don't say it's some one else! I could have given you up to him, but
not---- You know something of what he is; there is no braver or better
fellow in India, and now that his name is known, there's no saying how
far he will go. You could not have refused him--unless----"
Honour was opening and closing recklessly the cameo clasp that fastened
her black velvet bracelet. "Did you come here to plead Major
Charteris's cause?" she asked in a very small voice. "What if I--if I
told you your--your pleading had convinced me?"
"I should say you had chosen the better man," said Gerrard steadily.
A hand touched his for a moment, and was snatched away immediately. "I
have chosen the better man," murmured Honour. "But it is not Major
Charteris," and the hand allowed itself to be captured.
"I was certain of it!" cried Gerrard triumphantly. Honour withdrew her
hand hastily. "Certain? certain of what?" she demanded. Gerrard was
horrified.
"Miss Cinnamond--Honour--my dearest one--what have I done? I am an
unlucky fellow! Have I offended you?"
"You said you were certain," explained Honour, with impatient
deliberateness. "What were you certain of?"
"Why, that you could not have refused Charteris--splendid fellow that
he is, and with all his honours and successes--unless there was a
little sneaking kindness in your heart for some one else, and I hoped
it might be for a poor wretched failure who has nothing to lay at your
feet beyond his love and fidelity."
Honour surrendered her hand again. "You are so absurd!" she said, with
a catch in her voice. "Of course, if pity is all you want----"
"Pity is not to be despised. It made a good beginning----"
"It did not!" cried Honour sharply. "How blind you are! And I thought
you understood! When you came to the Residency in the rains, were you
to be pitied then?"
"I thought so. You would hardly look at me."
"Oh, stupid! how could I?"
"You had begun to care then? But, dearest, how could I guess? You
talked about nothing but Charteris."
"It was the only way I could get you to talk about yourself. You had
to tell me little bits about your own doings when you were describing
all he had done."
"If I had only known, it would have saved a lot of misery, both to poor
old Bob and me," mused Gerrard ruefully. "But how could I possibly
tell! When you asked so much about Charteris, of course I thought you
cared for him."
"As if I could ever have talked about him to you if I had cared for
him!" said Honour in disdain. Gerrard mused upon this revelation for a
moment.
"Well, I don't see how I could have known," he said at last.
"Why, I told you!" cried Honour--"when you went away."
"I thought you must have meant that--just for a moment. But then you
ran away, and would not even say good-bye to me."
"How could I, when I had just told you--shouted it out before
everybody? But I hid behind Mrs Antony and watched you go. I--I
kissed my hand to you," shamefacedly.
"And I was bustled off, and never knew! Dear one, you have only
yourself and my stupidity to thank if you marry a failure. What might
I not have done if I had known you cared!"
"Perhaps you might not have known it then as well as you do now,"
whispered Honour shyly. "It--it must be you, you know, not your
success, or----"
"So it is! But you won't insist on my remaining a failure always, for
I'm hanged if I do. With you to inspire--to help----"
Could it be the silent, reserved Honour whose transfigured face was
raised to his. "Oh, you will let me, you think I can?" she breathed.
"I wanted, so dreadfully, to help people when I first came out, but no
one seemed to want it--or else they just asked me to marry them----"
"But so have I. At least, that was my intention."
"Oh, you! But you are different. And I may try to help?"
A deprecating ayah, who had been making signs in vain from the
verandah, advanced in desperation. "Lady Memsahib done say wish done
see Missy Sahib," she murmured, with downcast eyes.
* * * * * *
"Well, is it all serene?" inquired Charteris, as Gerrard returned to
their quarters that night.
"All right--thanks to you, Bob."
"Oh, shut up! Seventh heaven?"
"Seventy times seventh."
"I believe you, my boy! Papa and mamma agreeable?"
"They were most kind. Sir Arthur would have preferred you, Bob--I
can't help seeing that--but he was quite decent. I even saw poor
little Mrs Cowper for a moment. She cried, and said how glad she was."
"Uncommon affecting! And she, herself?"
"She's--she's--I can't express what she is, even to you, Bob. Hang it!
I believe I could talk of her all night, and get no nearer. She is an
angel from heaven."
"Question is, has she made up her mind at last--no more
shilly-shallying? Hope I don't intrude in asking it."
"Made up her mind---- Are you trying to throw doubts----? Oh, I see.
But it's a thousand years since then, Bob. You yourself could have no
doubt, if you saw her."
"All right; I'm quite satisfied. If a doleful beggar like yourself can
feel free from doubt----"
"I could no more doubt her than the sun at noon. Bob, I'll tell you.
She will go with me to Central India when Sir Edmund goes."
Charteris sat up in his chair. "Nonsense!" he said sharply. "What
folly is this? You are talking of leaving Granthistan?"
"I had made up my mind to it before you came to me this afternoon, and
she agrees with me that it is the right thing."
"My dear fellow, you don't know. I was talking to the G.-G.'s military
secretary to-night, and he let slip that there would be a local
majority for you at the next distribution of honours. If you leave
Granthistan, of course that falls through."
"Then I must wait till it comes in the natural course of things."
"You don't seem to realise that Sir Arthur's influence won't help you
outside Granthistan, and will be very little use in any line but the
military. What's taken you?"
"It's simply that I mean to stick to Sir Edmund. My views as to the
treatment of the natives were learnt from him, and I can work better
with him than with our Mr James, much as I respect him."
"James Antony is the coming man, and the man for me. But if you will
choose the losing side--why, I suppose you must. It's like her, too."
"It is, indeed--since she chose me and not you. Bob, I'm still lost in
wonder over that."
Charteris moved impatiently. "Shows her wisdom. I don't mind telling
you, Hal--it may make you more comfortable to hear it--that I had
misgivings. Not about my own happiness--Heaven knows that I could ask
nothing better--but whether I could make her happy. I can't spout
Tennyson to her, or appreciate her pretty little German tales about
knights and water-nymphs--the _New Sporting Magazine_ and _Lays of
Ancient Rome_ are more my number. Evidently I am cut out for pacifying
Darwan rather than for domestic joys. And after all, two years ago I
would have given my ears to be where I am now. You have Honour, and I
have honours, you see"--with a fairly creditable laugh--"and so
everything is for the best in the best of all possible worlds."
[1] Big dinner.
[2] Bravo.