*CHAPTER III*
Shortly after five the next morning, the party, mounted on ponies, leftthe lamp-lit Residency and started on their way to the village of Karin,in the vicinity of which the aforesaid bears were supposed to beawaiting them. The sun was not yet risen; the air was chill; and thesahibs sleepy and disinclined for conversation.
Close at their heels trudged the four saises, bearing their charges'blankets, while some distance in the rear stalked two dignified-lookingnatives, Gokal Singh, Sir Reginald's dogra orderly, and Ahmed Khan,Graeme's shikari. The latter, a man of gigantic stature and imposingappearance, was a typical specimen of the Kashmiri race.
On Graeme's arrival at Baramoula three weeks before, this worthy,recognising at a glance the green and inexperienced new-comer, had atonce attached himself to Hector's retinue, and, heedless of rebuffs, hadseized upon the sahib's gun-cases and started off with them in triumphto Shiraz. In vain did Graeme order him to put the guns down and beoff; Ahmed Khan merely smiled and stuck sturdily to his booty.
Who did the sahib propose was to clean these weapons? he asked, marchingon. Not the saises assuredly, nor the bhisti,[#] and certainly not thePresence's bearer. He appealed to the latter, who at once--satisfactoryterms having been previously arranged--supported him. The Kashmiri'squestions were reasonable, he declared, a shikari was a necessity to asahib of importance; but first, why not see the man's chits,[#] for ifan honest man he would doubtless have such on him, and thereupon hecommanded Ahmed to produce what documents of the kind he had, and tobeware of showing false ones, for, he assured his master, such thingswere done in Kashmir, and it behoved one to be wary.
[#] "Water-carrier.
[#] Written characters, mostly forged, from former employers.
A bundle of dirty papers was thereupon dragged to light, an examinationof which proved to Hector that he had secured a treasure, for they oneand all declared that, of all shikaris now in Kashmir, this one, forhonesty, skill, and lion-hearted bravery, was incomparably the first.Graeme, impatient to be off, and by this time bored with the discussion,then gave in, and Ahmed secured a place, which suited him exactly. Hesmoked and slept all day, spent his nights in the bazaar, and left thecleaning of the guns to the sais, his sole self-imposed duty being tostand up and salute the sahib whenever he saw him, a performance whichhe religiously observed, and which irritated Graeme exceedingly. Thepresent expedition, involving a departure from the daily routine, was byno means to his liking, and on receiving his orders the previous nighthe had at once raised objections. Right well he knew Karin, hedeclared, and its inhabitants, the headman especially, a liar, a veryprince of liars, he was too, always deceiving sahibs by false tales ofbears.
Afraid, did the Presence say, he, Ahmed Khan, afraid of a bear? Howcould that be, for was he not known throughout the country as alion-hearted one, and the terror of all wild beasts? Let the Presencebut deign to look at his chits once more, and forthwith his hand soughtthe folds of his dirty garments. The frequent production of thesedocuments had by this time got on Graeme's nerves, and, advancing on thelion-hearted one with uplifted arm and dangerous eyes, he was about tomake his meaning clearer, when Ahmed, recognising the inevitable,salaamed humbly, and with a meek "Taiyar, sahib, taiyar hojaega,"[#]proceeded, with wrath in his heart, to make preparations for the morrow.He was now morosely trudging along by the side of Gokal Singh, with whomas a Hindu dog he had nothing in common, but to whom as a soldier andman of violence he was invariably respectful.
[#] "I will be ready, sir."
For the first six or seven miles the journey lay through the dense firand pine forest, the track winding its way along the mountain-side.Here and there the path was broken by noisy rivulets rushing down fromabove, nasty chasms being thus formed, bridged in the usual slackKashmiri way by a few poles covered over with sods and brushwood.Dangerous places these for the rider, as when the brushwood rots holesare left, through which the crossing pony may chance to drop a leg.Soon, however, these and the gloomy forest were left behind and theparty emerged on to an open plateau, where the full glory of a Kashmirimorning suddenly burst upon them.
Far below lay the valley, its green and gold gleaming through a veil ofsilver mist, which glittered and flashed like a diamond cobweb in therays of the morning sun. To their right stretched an endless successionof mountains, the summits rising like islands through the vapour billowswhich swirled around them--a restless, tossing sea, now fast breaking upand melting into floating patches of white beneath the growing splendourof the sun. Far across the valley gleamed the great snow-wall of theHimalayas, now no longer spirit-haunted and visionary, but pink-flushedand radiant with the kisses of the dawn.
At the sight Lucy gave a cry of pleasure, and, moving instinctivelycloser to her husband, began to point out to him the various beautiesthus unfolded. He was unresponsive, for once more there had stolen overhim the faint melancholy of the previous night, and with it the desirefor solitude and silence. He therefore assisted her to dismount--SirReginald had here called a halt--and muttering an excuse went to somedistance, where he stood gazing towards the north.
Lucy, much hurt at his behaviour, remained for a moment looking afterhim, and then, with a sigh, walked slowly away to join Sir Reginald andhis wife, whom she found tucked away behind a rock, whither they hadbetaken themselves for shelter from the breeze that blew cold and clearfrom the distant snows.
The Resident had not yet regained his wonted _bonhomie_, and was full ofgloomy forebodings. He ought not to have left Shiraz, he declared;something would be certain to happen in his absence, and Latimer, thougha good enough fellow in his way, was not the man to cope with unforeseenemergencies. The present expedition too was more likely than not toturn out a failure; a bear-shoot so often did. Possibly they might get ashot, but he doubted it, he very much doubted it. He only hoped therewould be no mistake about breakfast. Samuel--his Madrasi butler--wasnot given to make a hash of things, but natives were so unreliable, andto-day somehow he had a presentiment he would. But they must be gettingon, not waste time on this infernal hill, where he was rapidly freezing.
"Where's Graeme? Oh, looking at the snows, is he?--very fine, very fineindeed. Where's my sais? Abdul, you rascal, leave that stinkinghubble-bubble at once, and bring my pony, the lady sahib's too. Whydon't you roll karo[#] and keep them warm, instead of letting them standin the cold while you're squatting on the ground like a damned fool?They'll get a chill now and die, and you'll be in jail khana. Serve youright. Hold his head, will you, how the devil can I get up with thebrute twisting about like a top? My foot, curse it, right on my foot,you clumsy lout, and now I shan't be able to shoot. Oh, come on, comeon, Sarah, you too, Mrs. Graeme, never mind about that husband of yours,he'll turn up at breakfast all right."
[#] "Walk them about."
Thus encouraged by the leader, the party, joined shortly after byGraeme, once more resumed their journey, and, the wind-swept plateauleft far above and behind them, were soon winding their way through thecrops and woodlands of the valley below. Gradually, as the warmthincreased, Sir Reginald grew more amiable, till by the time the mud hutsof Karin appeared in sight he had become his own genial self again, andwas the first to point out the camp, a collection of large tents hard bythe village, their white sides looking cool and inviting through thedark green of the trees.
At a respectable distance a crowd of natives were squatting, anxious fora sight of the great man and his guests. At their approach they stood uptogether, and a chorus arose of "Salaam, sahib, salaam," while turbanedheads bowed low in reverence. The headman came forward, and with manyprotestations of unworthiness proceeded to welcome the Protector of thePoor and the other Presences. Sir Reginald cut him short. Afterwards,he said, he would be pleased to see him, but not now, and thereupon hedismounted, and, followed by the others, entered the large marquee,where he stood, a smile appearing on his face as he viewed the result ofMadrasi Samuel's efforts.
I
t was a cheering sight on which his eyes rested. On the snowytablecloth, glittering with glass and silver and tastefully decked withflowers, stood crystal dishes piled high with peaches, nectarines, andpears, while on a trestle sideboard were displayed cold baked meats ofmany kinds, from the tiny but succulent quail, nestling in his bed ofquivering jelly, to the lordly turkey, carefully browned and portly withchestnut stuffing. From buckets of ice, hock and soda-water bottlesreared inquiring heads, while from the kitchen outside came theinspiring sizzle of bacon and chop, their fragrance mingling with thatof the roasting coffee-berry.
The faces of the Resident and his wife beamed with pleasure at thesight. "Let come what might" now, the main object to them of theexpedition was assured, and, no matter whether the bears were found ornot, there was at any rate eating and drinking to fall back upon.
Promptly vetoing Hector's suggestion that before falling to they shouldmake arrangements for the first drive in order to waste no time. SirReginald summoned the servants and the business of breakfast commenced,during which Graeme and Lucy mentally beheld the quarry, bored withwaiting, stalk disgustedly away to their mountain fastnesses. At lengththe apparently interminable meal was ended, but not their trials, forSir Reginald, drowsy with repletion, called for cheroots, and, havingcarefully selected a long and black weed from the box, notched the endneatly with a knife, and, lighting it, lay back in his chair andproceeded to abandon himself to dreamy reflection. This was too much forthe now indignant pair, and goaded at length into action by theirfidgeting Sir Reginald, with a sigh of regret, rose and accompanied themoutside, where the headman and his retinue were still patientlysquatting.
The story, as told by this worthy, was sufficiently thrilling. Thecountry, it appeared, for miles round was alive with bears, black inhue, and of incredible size and ferocity, and though the number of thoseactually seen dwindled down to three under the close cross-questioningof the Resident, still three, one a man-slayer, was news enough toinspire any man, or woman either, and it was with a heart beating withexcitement, not unmixed with fear, that Lucy accompanied her husband tothe scene of the coming drama.
Hector was confident, as usual. His experience of big-game shooting wasnil, but what of that? He was a crack performer with a shot-gun, and nodoubt, should the occasion present itself, he would prove himselfequally proficient with the rifle. His vanity also was stirred, for hadnot the headman besought him to deliver the village from the tyranny ofthese beasts, and, though he was addressing Sir Reginald at the time,his eyes had turned to him more than once; and naturally, for it washardly likely that anyone so old and fat as the Resident could be reliedon in an emergency like the present. No, it was to him they looked,and, by Jove! they should find their confidence was not misplaced.Ahmed Khan well knew how to foster these sentiments, for in them he sawlay profit to himself. Like most natives, he was an unconscious studentof human nature; it is their stock-in-trade for the extracting ofrupees, and, as he was aware from experience, the lordlier the sahib'sframe of mind, the more noble the bakshish, as is befitting.
Edging up to his master, therefore, who on this occasion did not repulsehim, he proceeded to launch forth into a panegyric of Graeme's virtues,expressing his conviction, that, of all the sahibs he had hithertoserved, his sahib was incomparably the bravest and most expert with gunand rifle. And for this, he ejaculated fervently, Allah be praised,since no one less gifted could hope to emerge victorious from a contestwith bears so ferocious as these undoubtedly were. Thereupon followed astream of gruesome and imaginary anecdote illustrative of these animals'incredible daring and savagery; but, with a pleased glance at Lucy'swhite face, let not the memsahib be frightened, for he, Ahmed Khan,would be there to see that no harm came to her or the sahib. Only overhis dead body should that happen, for he had no fear of the beasts,ferocious as they were. Let her but look, and here again his handsought out the bundle of papers, till, suddenly catching the sahib'seye, he changed his mind, and lifting up a fold of his dingy garmentsblew his nose hastily with it.
At length, after an hour's walk, the scene of action was reached, thisbeing a deeply-wooded ravine roughly triangular in shape and about halfa mile in length. Lining the base could be seen the beaters awaitingthe signal to advance, the guns being placed in position near the apex,one on either side.
Perched on a tree, overhanging the edge of the ravine and halfwaybetween the beaters and guns, sat, in dignified eminence, the patriarchof the village. His duty it was to stimulate the exertions of hisfriends by much laudation of their efforts, and at the same time toexcite their hatred of the quarry by bitter cursing and vituperation ofthe same. His further mission was to act as sentinel, and to givenotice of the bear's approach to his lords and patrons at the other end.
Suddenly a long loud whistle broke the silence, and at the soundpandemonium broke loose in the ravine, each villager howled his loudest,while through the din was heard the dull monotonous throbbing of atom-tom, lustily beaten by the village priest. The line of beaterscrept on, but so far there was no sign of the enemy; the uproargradually abated, and even the tom-tom had ceased to beat, when suddenlythe figure in the tree began to show signs of agitation. He cranedforward, his neck was thrust out like that of a vulture, and then with awild shriek of "Balu! balu!"[#] he commenced to wave his arms andgesticulate with a frenzied energy, which threatened every minute toprecipitate him from his perch into the abyss below.
[#] "The bear! the bear!"
Instantly the clamour was renewed, the thrumming of the tom-tom rose toa roar, while, faintly heard through the din, the thin screams of thepatriarch in the tree smote upon the ear. He exhorted his brothers toadvance and fear not, in the same breath cursing the bear and revilingits female ancestors with an intensity and bitter hatred, which thatharmless mulberry-eater would hardly seem to have merited.
At the sportsmen's end of the ravine a tense silence reigned, all eyesbeing fixed on the undergrowth below, whence a faint rustling andclatter of loose stones were now coming, betokening something'sapproach. Lucy's face whitened, and she clutched her husband by thearm. Shaking her off, he grasped his rifle tighter; but, alas! thequarry was not for him, for suddenly the "old and fat" Sir Reginald wasseen to raise his weapon, a dull boom echoed through the ravine,followed by a "Woof, woof," a commotion in the bushes, and then thesilence of death. The bear was slain.
"Damn!" muttered Graeme, and was turning sharply away when a gasp fromLucy stopped him, and looking round he beheld another bear, which,having emerged unseen from below, was now hastily shuffling off. Graemefired, but the bear paid no heed; again he fired, and still the targetrefused to stop, but to the accompaniment of a wail from Lucy and acurse from Ahmed Khan lumbered on to the shelter of some bushes and waslost to view.
A dreadful moment followed; not only had he, Hector Graeme, missed aneasy shot in the eyes of the whole village, but, worse still, he hadfailed where another had succeeded, an altogether impossible situation,and one by no way improved by the well-meant, though perhaps tactless,condolences of his host, who now joined them. The thing was done,however, and the bear in safety miles away, so assuming what nonchalancehe might, and avoiding the reproachful eyes of Lucy, who declined tolook at Sir Reginald's bear, and the glum face of Ahmed Khan, whosehopes of bakshish had disappeared with the bear, he turned to his host,and jauntily inquired what the next move was to be. Sir Reginaldwithout hesitation answered that that must undoubtedly be lunch, itbeing now past one, and the next beat more than a mile distant,whereupon, guided by a white-clad khitmagar, sent forward for thepurpose by the thoughtful Samuel, the party returned to the marquee,where once more they found a repast awaiting them, more suggestive ofPrince's or the Savoy than a picnic in the wilds of Kashmir.
At first Graeme's mood was not conversational, but gradually, under theinfluence of good cheer and much hock and soda, his mortificationsubsided, till at cigarette time he had recovered his wonted serenity,and even permitted himself to discuss the recent disaster.
/> "Curious thing," he observed, "my missing like that, wonder whathappened. Don't often do it, rather good shot as a rule, ain't I,Lucy?"
"Indeed you are, Hector," answered the latter, looking indignantly ather host and refusing to respond to a wink. "My husband is consideredone of the best shots in Hertfordshire, Sir Reginald, and how he came tomiss the bear I can't imagine. I think there must be something wrongwith that rifle, Hector, I really do."
"Wrong with the powder, I should say, Mrs. Graeme," said the Resident,in high good-humour, "wants straightening. Have to do better than thatwhen you go to Tirah, why ... Try that Grand Marnier, Graeme, I canrecommend it."
"Thanks, I will," said Graeme, filling his glass, "and aboutTirah--going up, are we, when?"
"Surely, Sir Reginald, there's no chance of that?" said Lucy, withstartled eyes.
"No chance whatever, Mrs. Graeme, no chance at all, I should say;foolish of me to have mentioned it, must have been dreaming. A nativeregiment or two may have to go, that is, if the Afridis really meantrouble, which I doubt, but hardly British cavalry. No, no, set yourmind at rest."
"Native troops again," muttered Graeme discontentedly; "it's always thesame story. They have all the fun, while we fool about in cantonments.Wish to Heaven I was in a black corps."
"You'd very soon wish yourself out again, my friend," said his host. "Iknow I'd give something to be back in the old 12th," his thoughtsreverting as he spoke to the days when he was a subaltern in afashionable Hussar regiment. "Gad, what times we used to have, and whatan infernal young fool I was to come the mucker I did. Real life thatwas, not this tin-pot grandeur and importance."
Lady Wilford at once intervened. To her, a former Mussoori belle anddaughter of a police official in that place, Sir Reginald's Londonreminiscences were always distasteful. India, not England, was hernative country, and she was not going to hear the former or its dignityderided, certainly not in the presence of a mere soldier officer, who,as everyone knows, is in no way the equal of an Indian civilian.
"Of course, you don't mean that, Reginald," she observed with someasperity, "and I confess I'm rather surprised that you, in yourposition, should have made such a remark. You'll be giving our guestsan altogether wrong impression, but," turning to Hector, "you mustn'ttake what my husband says seriously, Captain Graeme; he often jokes inthis way."
"Mayfield's your cousin, ain't he, Sir Reginald?" said Hector,unheeding. "He and Lady Edith were staying with my governor last covertshooting."
"No; she is. Rockingham was my father's brother. Good old Uncle Jack,wonder when I'll see him again. Gad, I remember...."
"Won't you tell us about the frontier, Reginald?" said Lady Wilford."You know, Captain Graeme, my husband's one of the great authorities onthe subject; indeed, his Excellency, a great friend of ours, once toldme he considered him the greatest. I'm sure you would like to hearabout it, both of you."
"Very much," said Hector, lying back in his chair and lighting anothercigarette.
"It's hardly the subject for a picnic lunch, my dear," said theResident, rather annoyed at being shown off in this manner, "and I'msure it wouldn't interest our guests."
"Indeed, Sir Reginald, it would," answered Lucy, dealing a surreptitiouskick at her husband's foot, at which with a low growl he opened hisclosing eyes.
"Some mullah fellow been stirring 'em up, hasn't he, Sir Reginald?" heobserved sleepily.
"The Hadda Mullah," said the Resident briefly, "trying to proclaim areligious war. Jehad, they call it. Don't think he will, all the same,for the Afridis have no religion to speak of. They'll be a hard nut tocrack, if they do rise; but let's be off, it's time we were at thosebears again. Wait a minute, though," he added, suddenly rising andhurrying out of the tent; "there's a man I want to see before we start.You stay here," looking hard at his wife, "amuse our guests till Ireturn, Sarah. I won't be a minute."
"Now then, what is it?" he said sharply to a blue-clad native, with aleather belt round his waist, whose approach he had observed through theopen door of the tent. "Letter for me? Hum, I was afraid of it, a wiretoo for Graeme sahib. Damn, but it's bad luck on her. All right,here's the sahib coming out now. You can give him the wire--not now,you fool, wait for three minutes."
"Oh, Mrs. Graeme, come over here and have a look at my bear, fine chap,isn't he? I'll have him skinned for you if you like; he'll make rathera good carriage-rug."
"It's awfully kind of you, Sir Reginald, but I couldn't think ... Why,what on earth's the matter with my husband? He seems very angry.Good--good heavens, what's that in his hand? It's, heavens, it's atelegram. Oh, Hector, what is it?"
"Only a recall, Lucy, that's all, an order to return, from that old foolSchofield. But I won't go. I'll see him damned first, by the Lord Iwill! I'm here on leave, and here I'll stay. You see now what comes ofbeing in the Service, always at the beck and call of some jumpy idiot ofa C.O."
"But--but why, Hector, what for?"
"I don't know; all it says is 'Return at once.' Some silly inspection,I suppose. But I ain't going. I'll wire to say 'Regret impossible.'Here, you fool with the belt, give me a form."
"I'm afraid you can't do that, Graeme," said his host gravely.
"Can't I? I'll soon show you I can. Why ... what do you mean, do youknow anything of this, Sir Reginald?"
"The 1st Lancers leave Riwala for the frontier to-night. The Afridishave risen, after all, and seized the Khyber forts. I'm very sorry,Mrs. Graeme, but I was afraid of it all along. That's why I didn't wantto come to-day."
Lucy said nothing.
"What's all this?" said Lady Wilford, coming up. "Oh," on hearing thenews, "I _do_ call that a shame, my dear, I am so sorry."
Lucy again made no answer, but, turning, left the group and walkedslowly away to her tent.
"Oh, but, Reginald," continued his wife, really distressed, "surelysomething can be done, these two poor creatures, why not send a wire tosay Captain Graeme's sick and can't move? They'd believe you, though ofcourse they wouldn't him."
"My dear, what you suggest is impossible."
"I should just think it is," said Graeme, the anger on whose face hadnow turned to joy. "What! me skulk up here while my regiment's fightingon the frontier, not much. Here, I must get back to Shiraz at once.Ahmed Khan, put my things together, ek dum.[#] And you," to the peon,"order me a tonga when you get back. Gad, but this is good business,Lucy. Now where's my wife got to?"
[#] Immediately.
The Resident looked at him curiously. He didn't much like his guest atthat moment.
"I think," he said rather coldly, "she has gone away to her tent. It'sa bit rough on her, Graeme, you know."
"By Jove, yes, of course it is. I must go and find her at once. Whendo you think we can start, Sir Reginald?"
"Time enough if you leave Baramoula to-morrow. You can't do it to-night;besides, if you're thinking of your brother officers, they'll have goneby now."
"I sincerely trust they have. I don't want their company, Porky in atonga would be just about the limit, and I must go to-night. Ishouldn't sleep a wink if I didn't. Oh, let's be off. You can give mea permit, I suppose, for the road?"[#]
[#] A permit from the Resident of Kashmir is required by those wishingto make the Tonga journey to the plains by night. This is on account ofthe dangerous nature of the road.
"Oh, as far as that goes, there'd be no difficulty, but..."
"That's settled then. I'll go and tell Lucy."
"Very well, if you insist, we'll be ready in half an hour from now. Youcan manage it, I suppose, Sarah?" to his wife, who was looking at Graemewith indignant eyes.
"Oh yes, but I really think..."
"So do I, but it seems our friend here has made up his mind. Rather asad ending to our picnic, Graeme;" but the latter was already on his wayto the tent, where he found Lucy lying face downwards on her bed,quietly sobbing.
At the sight, a sudden spasm of remorse seized Hector; tears were a rareocc
urrence with Lucy. He knelt down beside her and tried to take herhand.
"I'm awfully sorry, dear," he began, "and I'm afraid I've been beastlyselfish, but I'm afraid in the excitement I never thought of that. Ican see now it's devilish hard on you, and I wish, I do indeed, I hadn'tto go; but I must; you see that, don't you, dear?"
No answer but sobs.
Hector was nonplussed. He could make love as well as most men--perhapseven better--but in the capacity to feel the sorrows of others hisnature was altogether lacking, and he knew no other way to dry a woman'stears save with kisses. Such grief merely bored and annoyed him, and,as he looked at the stricken figure before him, in spite of himself afaint feeling of grievance began to take possession of him.
"Come, Lucy," he said, trying to make his voice as gentle as he could."Pull yourself together, dear; after all, you are more to blame for thisthan me."
"I, Hector, oh, how?"
"For not letting me cut the Service when I wanted to. You see now whathas come of it."
"Oh, how I wish I had, but I only did it for your sake, Hector."
"And that being so," continued Graeme, feeling his advantage, "it'shardly logical to complain. After all, fighting is what we're for, notloafing about barracks. Why, it was only last night that you were at meto take my profession seriously, and now, when I've got a chance atlast, you grumble. It isn't fair, Lucy, it isn't really; makes thegoing ten times worse for me."
"I--I'm not grumbling, only--crying a little. I--I shouldn't be humanif I didn't. Oh, Hector, are you made of stone?"
"Of course I'm not, only I've got more self-control. I feel it everybit as much as you do; it's the same for me, you know."
"It isn't, it isn't!" sobbed Lucy. "You've got the excitement, yourbrother officers and--and the rest. You're not left alone with nothingto do but think, as I shall be after to-morrow, for you must go then, Isuppose. Oh, dearest, couldn't you wait for just one more day, for mysake, Hector?"
"I--I'm afraid I must go to-night, Lucy," stammered Hector.
The girl sat up, her eyes rather wild.
"To-night? Oh no, no, you can't; you mustn't go to-night. I--Icouldn't bear it, Hector."
"I must, dear; if I didn't, they might put me under arrest fordisobedience to orders. Think what might be said too, that bruteO'Hagan, for instance."
"What does it matter about him? I come first. And you can't goto-night. The road's not safe. Those awful precipices."
"There's no danger, Lucy, and, believe me, I must." Hector's jaw setand his eyes hardened.
A long pause. Graeme looked at his watch. Quarter of an hour hadalready passed.
"Lucy, dear," he began again, "I don't wish to hurry you, but SirReginald told me to say that he would start in half an hour;" and Lucyat once rose, except for her pale face and red eyes, to all appearancescalm once more.
"Very well, Hector," she said in a level voice, "I will be ready. TellSir Reginald I won't keep him waiting. I--I should like an hour or twoat Shiraz, though, if you can wait so long. I want to see about yourthings."
"Oh, of course, dear, and, Lucy, you know, don't you, that it's not wantof feeling on my part? I hate it as much as you do, probably more,only..."
"Yes, yes, but please leave me now, Hector, or I shan't--shan't. Oh,go--go."
She half pushed him out of the tent and closed the flap behind him.
* * * * *
"That fellow was right," muttered Hector, as some hours later he rodedown the hill on his way to Baramoula, "who said soldiers ought not tobe married. I wish to heaven I'd sent in my papers before I leftEngland, as I wanted to; but she wouldn't have it, said she wanted me tomake a name for myself, and now the time's come, it seems she doesn'twant it at all. No more do I, much rather stay behind with her. God,how cursedly miserable I feel, so much for love for a woman stirring aman's ambition and making him keen to do things. It don't, it takes allthe heart out of him. Hullo, there's Baramoula, now I wonder whetherthat fool ordered my tonga?" and shaking up his pony he rode on at acanter.
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