Hit a man an' help a woman, an' ye can't be far wrong anyways.--_Maxims of
Private Mulvaney._
The Inexpressibles gave a ball. They borrowed a seven-pounder from the
Gunners, and wreathed it with laurels, and made the dancing-floor
plate-glass and provided a supper, the like of which had never been eaten
before, and set two sentries at the door of the room to hold the trays of
programme-cards. My friend, Private Mulvaney, was one of the sentries,
because he was the tallest man in the regiment. When the dance was fairly
started the sentries were released, and Private Mulvaney went to curry
favor with the Mess Sergeant in charge of the supper. Whether the Mess
Sergeant gave or Mulvaney took, I cannot say. All that I am certain of is
that, at supper-time, I found Mulvaney with Private Ortheris, two-thirds
of a ham, a loaf of bread, half a _pâté-de-foie-gras_, and two magnums of
champagne, sitting on the roof of my carriage. As I came up I heard him
saying--
"Praise be a danst doesn't come as often as Ord'ly-room, or, by this an'
that, Orth'ris, me son, I wud be the dishgrace av the rig'mint instid av
the brightest jool in uts crown."
"_Hand_ the Colonel's pet noosance," said Ortheris, "But wot makes you
curse your rations? This 'ere fizzy stuff's good enough."
"Stuff, ye oncivilized pagin! 'Tis champagne we're dhrinkin' now. 'Tisn't
that I am set ag'in. 'Tis this quare stuff wid the little bits av black
leather in it. I misdoubt I will be distressin'ly sick wid it in the
mornin'. Fwhat is ut?"
"Goose liver," I said, climbing on the top of the carriage, for I knew
that it was better to sit out with Mulvaney than to dance many dances.
"Goose liver is ut?" said Mulvaney. "Faith, I'm thinkin' thim that makes
it wud do betther to cut up the Colonel. He carries a power av liver
undher his right arrum whin the days are warm an' the nights chill. He wud
give thim tons an' tons av liver. 'Tis he sez so. 'I'm all liver to-day,'
sez he; an' wid that he ordhers me ten days C.B. for as moild a dhrink as
iver a good sodger took betune his teeth."
"That was when 'e wanted for to wash 'isself in the Fort Ditch," Ortheris
explained. "Said there was too much beer in the Barrack water-butts for a
God-fearing man. You was lucky in gettin' orf with wot you did, Mulvaney."
"Say you so? Now I'm pershuaded I was cruel hard trated, seein' fwhat I've
done for the likes av him in the days whin my eyes were wider opin than
they are now. Man alive, for the Colonel to whip _me_ on the peg in that
way! Me that have saved the repitation av a ten times better man than him!
Twas ne-farious--an' that manes a power av evil!"
"Never mind the nefariousness," I said. "Whose reputation did you save?"
"More's the pity, 'twasn't my own, but I tuk more trouble wid ut than av
ut was. 'Twas just my way, messin' wid fwhat was no business av mine. Hear
now!" He settled himself at ease on the top of the carriage. "I'll tell
you all about ut. Av coorse I will name no names, for there's wan that's
an orf'cer's lady now, that was in ut, and no more will I name places, for
a man is thracked by a place."
"Eyah!" said Ortheris, lazily, "but this is a mixed story wot's comin'."
"Wanst upon a time, as the childer-books say, I was a recruity."
"Was you though?" said Ortheris; "now that's extryordinary!"
"Orth'ris," said Mulvaney, "av you opin thim lips av yours again, I will,
savin' your presince, sorr, take you by the slack av your trousers an'
heave you."
"I'm mum," said Ortheris. "Wot 'appened when you was a recruity?"
"I was a betther recruity than you iver was or will be, but that's neither
here nor there. Thin I became a man, an' the divil of a man I was fifteen
years ago. They called me Buck Mulvaney in thim days, an', begad, I tuk a
woman's eye. I did that! Ortheris, ye scrub, fwhat are ye sniggerin' at?
Do you misdoubt me?"
"Devil a doubt!" said Ortheris; "but I've 'eard summat like that before!"
Mulvaney dismissed the impertinence with a lofty wave of his hand and
continued--
"An' the orf'cers av the rig'mint I was in in thim days _was_
orfcers--gran' men, wid a manner on 'em, an' a way wid 'em such as is not
made these days--all but wan--wan o' the capt'ns. A bad dhrill, a wake
voice, an' a limp leg--thim three things are the signs av a bad man. You
bear that in your mind, Orth'ris, me son.
"An' the Colonel av the rig'mint had a daughter--wan av thim lamblike,
bleatin', pick-me-up-an'-carry-me-or-I'll-die gurls such as was made for
the natural prey av men like the Capt'n, who was iverlastin' payin' coort
to her, though the Colonel he said time an' over, 'Kape out av the brute's
way, my dear.' But he niver had the heart for to send her away from the
throuble, bein' as he was a widower, an' she their wan child."
"Stop a minute, Mulvaney," said I; "how in the world did you come to know
these things?"
"How did I come?" said Mulvaney, with a scornful grunt; "bekaze I'm turned
durin' the Quane's pleasure to a lump av wood, lookin' out straight
forninst me, wid a--a--candelabbrum in my hand, for you to pick your cards
out av, must I not see nor feel? Av coorse I du! Up my back, an' in my
boots, an' in the short hair av the neck--that's where I kape my eyes whim
I'm on duty an' the reg'lar wans are fixed. Know! Take my word for it,
sorr, ivrything an' a great dale more is known in a rig'mint; or fwhat wud
be the use av a Mess Sargint, or a Sargint's wife doin' wet-nurse to the
Major's baby? To reshume. He was a bad dhrill was this Capt'n--a rotten
bad dhrill--an' whin first I ran me eye over him, I sez to myself: 'My
Militia bantam!' I sez, 'My cock av a Gosport dunghill'--'twas from
Portsmouth he came to us--'there's combs to be cut,' sez I, 'an' by the
grace av God, 'tis Terence Mulvaney will cut thim.'
"So he wint menowderin', and minanderin', an' blandandhering roun' an'
about the Colonel's daughter, an' she, poor innocint, lookin' at him like
a Comm'ssariat bullock looks at the Comp'ny cook. He'd a dhirty little
scrub av a black moustache, an' he twisted an' turned ivry wurrd he used
as av he found ut too sweet for to spit out.
"Eyah! He was a tricky man an' a liar by natur'. Some are born so. He was
wan. I knew he was over his belt in money borrowed from natives; besides a
lot av other matthers which, in regard for your presince, sorr, I will
oblitherate. A little av fwhat I knew, the Colonel knew, for he wud have
none av him, an' that, I'm thinkin', by fwhat happened aftherward, the
Capt'in knew.
"Wan day, bein' mortial idle, or they wud never ha' thried ut, the
rig'mint gave amsure theatricals--orf'cers an' orfcers' ladies. You've
seen the likes time an' again, sorr, an' poor fun 'tis for them that sit
in the back row an' stamp wid their boots for the honor av the rig'mint. I
was told off for to shif' the scenes, haulin' up this an' draggin' down
that. Light work ut was, wid lashins av beer and the gurl that dhressed
the orf'cers' ladies--but she died in Aggra twelve years gone, an' my
tongue's gettin' the betther av me. They was actin' a play thing called
_Sweethearts_, which you may ha' heard av, an' the Colonel's daughter she
was a lady's maid. The Capt'n was a boy called Broom--Spread Broom was his
name in the play. Thin I saw--ut come out in the actin'--fwhat I niver saw
before, an' that was that he was no gentleman. They was too much together,
thim two, a-whishperin' behind the scenes I shifted, an' some av what they
said I heard; for I was death--blue death an' ivy--on the comb-cuttin'. He
was iverlastin'ly oppressing her to fall in wid some sneakin' schame av
his, an' she was thryin' to stand out against him, but not as though she
was set in her will. I wonder now in thim days that my ears did not grow a
yard on me head wid list'nin'. But I looked straight forninst me an'
hauled up this an' dragged down that, such as was my duty, an' the
orf'cers' ladies sez one to another, thinkin' I was out av listen-reach:
'Fwhat an obligin' young man is this Corp'ril Mulvaney!' I was a Corp'ril
then. I was rejuced aftherward, but, no matther, I was a Corp'ril wanst.
"Well, this _Sweethearts'_ business wint on like most amshure theatricals,
an' barrin' fwhat I suspicioned, 'twasn't till the dhress-rehearsal that I
saw for certain that thim two--he the blackguard, an' she no wiser than
she should ha' been--had put up an evasion."
"A what?" said I.
"E-vasion! Fwhat you call an elopemint. E-vasion I calls it, bekaze,
exceptin' whin 'tis right an' natural an' proper, 'tis wrong an' dhirty to
steal a man's wan child, she not knowin' her own mind. There was a Sargint
in the Comm'ssariat who set my face upon e-vasions. I'll tell you about
that"--
"Stick to the bloomin' Captains, Mulvaney," said Ortheris; "Comm'ssariat
Sargints is low."