CAPT. M. At forty you'll be a fool of a J. P. landlord. At fifty you'll
own a bath-chair, and The Brigadier, if he takes after you, will be
fluttering the dovecotes of--what's the particular dunghill you're going
to? Also, Mrs. Gadsby will be fat.
CAPT. G. (Limply.) This is rather more than a joke.
CAPT. M. D'you think so? Isn't cutting the Service a joke? It generally
takes a man fifty years to arrive at it. You're quite right, though. It
is more than a joke. You've managed it in thirty-three.
CAPT. G. Don't make me feel worse than I do. Will it satisfy you if I
own that I am a shirker, a skrim-shanker, and a coward?
CAPT. M. It wil! not, because I'm the only man in the world who can talk
to you like this without being knocked down. You mustn't take all that
I've said to heart in this way. I only spoke--a lot of it at least--out
of pure selfishness, because, because--Oh, damn it all, old man,--I don't
know what I shall do without you. Of course, you've got the money and
the place and all that--and there are two very good reasons why you
should take care of yourself.
CAPT. G. 'Doesn't make it any sweeter. I'm backing out--I know I am. I
always had a soft drop in me somewhere--and I daren't risk any danger to
them.
CAPT. M. Why in the world should you? You're bound to think of your
family-bound to think. Er--hmm. If I wasn't a younger son I'd go too--be
shot if I wouldn't!
CAPT. G. Thank you, Jack. It's a kind lie, but it's the blackest you've
told for some time. I know what I'm doing, and I'm going into it with my
eyes open. Old man, I can't help it. What would you do if you were in my
place?
CAPT. M. (Aside.) 'Couldn't conceive any woman getting permanently
between me and the Regiment. (Aloud.) 'Can't say. 'Very likely I should
do no better. I'm sorry for you--awf'ly sorry--but “if them's your
sentiments,” I believe, I really do, that you are acting wisely.
CAPT. G. Do you? I hope you do. (In a whisper.) Jack, be very sure of
yourself before you marry. I'm an ungrateful ruffian to say this, but
marriage--even as good a marriage as mine has been--hampers a man's
work, it cripples his sword-arm, and oh, it plays Hell with his notions
of duty. Sometimes--good and sweet as she is--sometimes I could wish
that I had kept my freedom--No, I don't mean that exactly.
MRS. G. (Coming down veranda.) What are you wagging your head over, Pip?
CAPT. M. (Turning quickly.) Me, as usual. The old sermon. Your husband
is recommending me to get married. 'Never saw such a one-ideaed man.
MRS. G. Well, why don't you? I dare say you would make some woman very
happy.
CAPT. G. There's the Law and the Prophets, Jack. Never mind the
Regiment. Make a woman happy. (Aside.) O Lord!
CAPT. M. We'll see. I must be off to make a Troop Cook desperately
unhappy. I won't have the wily Hussar fed on Government Bullock Train
shinbones--(Hastily.) Surely black ants can't be good for The Brigadier.
He's picking em off the matting and eating 'em. Here, Senor Comandante
Don Grubbynuse, come and talk to me. (Lifts G. JUNIOR in his arms.)
'Want my watch? You won't be able to put it into your mouth, but you can
try. (G. JUNIOR drops watch, breaking dial and hands.)
MRS. G. Oh, Captain Mafflin, I am so sorry! Jack, you bad, bad little
villain. Ahhh!
CAPT. M. It's not the least consequence, I assure you. He'd treat the
world in the same way if he could get it into his hands. Everything's
made to be played, with and broken, isn't it, young 'un?
* * * * *
MRS. G. Mafflin didn't at all like his watch being broken, though he
was too polite to say so. It was entirely his fault for giving it to
the child. Dem little puds are werry, werry feeble, aren't dey, by
Jack-in-de-box? (To G.) What did he want to see you for?
CAPT. G. Regimental shop as usual.
MRS. G. The Regiment! Always the Regiment. On my word, I sometimes feel
jealous of Mafflin.
CAPT. G. (Wearily.) Poor old Jack? I don't think you need. Isn't it time
for The Butcha to have his nap? Bring a chair out here, dear. I've got
some thing to talk over with you.