"Of course you will not," said Denham confidently. "Hullo! Going?"
"Yes; I want to go and see how the great Irish captain is," I replied.
"What do you want to go and see him for?" said my companion angrily.
"I hardly know," I replied. "I like to see that he's getting better."
"Well, you are a rum chap," cried Denham. "I should have thought you
would like to go and sit upon the bragging brute. Why, last time, when
I went with you, he talked to both of us as if we were two privates in
his Boer corps."
"Yes, he's a self-satisfied, inflated sort of fellow; but he's wounded
and a prisoner."
"What of that? It's only what he ought to be. I want to know what's to
be done with him."
"The Colonel won't send him to the Boer lines when he's well enough to
move, I hope."
"Not he. I expect he'll be kept till he can be handed over to the
General. Here, I'll come with you."
I was quite willing, and we descended to the hospital, as the shut-off
part of one of the passages was called; and there sat the only patient
and prisoner, with an armed sentry close at hand to prevent any attempt
at escape.
The Captain turned his head sharply on hearing our footsteps, and gave
us both a haughty stare, which amused Denham, making him look to me and
smile.
"Oh, you've come at last," said the patient. "I've been wanting you."
"What is it?" I said. "Water?"
"Bah!" he replied, his upper lip curling. "I want you to bring your
chief officer here."
"I dare say you do, my fine fellow," cried Denham. "Pretty good for a
prisoner! You don't suppose he'll come--do you? Here, what do you
want? Tell me, and I'll carry your message to the chief."
Moriarty gave the young officer a contemptuous glance, and then turned
to me.
"Go and tell the Colonel, or whatever he is, that I am greatly surprised
at his inattention to my former message."
"Did you send a message?" I asked, surprised by his words.
"Of course I did, two days ago, by the surgeon. It's not gentlemanly of
your Colonel. Go and tell him that I feel well enough to move now, and
that I desire him to send me with a proper escort, and under a white
flag, to make an exchange of prisoners."
"Well, I'll take your message," I said; "but--"
"Yes, go at once," said Moriarty, "and bring me back an answer, for I'm
sick of this place."
He turned away, and, without so much as a glance at Denham, lay back,
staring up at the sky.
"Well," said Denham when we were out of hearing, "of all the arrogance
and cheek I ever witnessed, that fellow possesses the most. Here, what
are you going to do?"
"Take the message to the Colonel," I replied.
"Going to do what?" cried Denham. "Nothing of the kind."
"But I promised him."
"I know you did; but you must have a fit of delirium coming on. It's
being too much up in the sun."
"Nonsense," I said. "I've no time for joking."
"Joking, my dear boy? Nothing of the kind. I'm going to take you to
the doctor; he'll nip your complaint in the bud."
"Absurd," I cried. "Come with me to the Colonel."
"What! To deliver the message?"
"Of course."
"No, Val, my boy. I like you too well to let you go to the old man. Do
you know what he'd do?"
"Send me back to our friend there with a message as sharp as a sword.
Of course I know he will not send him across to the Boers."
"My dear Val," said Denham solemnly, "let me inform your ignorance
exactly what would happen. I know the chief from old experience. He'll
sit back and listen to you with one of those pleasant smiles he puts on
when he's working himself up into a rage. He'll completely disarm you--
as he did me once--and all the time, as he hears you patiently to the
end, he'll think nothing about my lord Paddy there, but associate you,
my poor boy, with what he will consider about the most outrageous piece
of impudence he ever had addressed to him. Then suddenly he'll spring
up and say--No, I will not spoil the purity of the atmosphere this
beautiful evening by repeating a favourite expletive of his--he'll say
something you will not at all like, and then almost kick you out of his
quarters."
"I don't believe it," I said.
"That's giving me the lie, Val, my boy. He'll be in such a rage that
he'll forget himself; for, though he's a splendid soldier, and as brave
a man as ever crossed a charger, he is one of the--"
"What, Mr Denham?" said the gentleman of whom he spoke, suddenly
standing before us. "Pray speak out; I like to hear what my officers
think of me."