CHAPTER I
Ted Disapproves
Ted Russell, ensign of the 193rd Bengal Native Infantry, stationed atAurungpore, in the Punjab, was disgusted and irritable on this first dayof the never-to-be-forgotten year of 1857--a year destined to bringuntold misery to thousands of homes and families, and to many a race andcreed throughout Hindustan and the British Isles; a year that wouldhenceforward lie as a dark stain across the page of history.
But our young friend's ill-humour could be traced to a much simplercause than a mere prophetic dread of the future. Ensign Russell had notbeen in India many months, and during the whole of that short period hehad looked forward with lively and pleasant anticipation to a visit fromhis brother Jim, whom he had seen but twice in the past ten years, andwho was quite a veteran warrior in Ted's admiring eyes. For CaptainRussell had been engaged in the Sikh war as well as in several affrayswith the border Pathans; he was the proud possessor of more than onemedal, and had quite a prominent scar across his face--the mark of aKhyber knife. For the past twelve months he had held the rank of captainin the ten-year-old corps of Guides, stationed near Peshawur across theIndus, the town that guards the Khyber Pass--the gate of India.
At length this hero-brother had obtained leave of absence to visitAurungpore, and great was the delight of both.
Now, here is what had disgusted the ensign. Before the stalwart captain,who had successfully held his own against Sikhs and Afghans, had beenwith Ted a couple of days, he had actually suffered defeat at the handsof a slip of a girl of twenty-one--a girl about five feet in height, thedaughter of Ted's colonel! Jim, who of all men should have been proofagainst such silly nonsense--such idiocy!--had succumbed at first sight,and instead of spinning yarns about his campaigns and his defence ofChiras Fort, he was mooning about all day long in the wake of this EthelWoodburn.
Ensign Russell quickly found that, whatever plans he might make for theday, his brother would be sure to demur, unless the programme providedsome chance of their meeting or seeing Miss Woodburn. He would pleadfatigue or lack of interest, and then propose as an alternativesomething either much more fatiguing, or--in the boy's eyes--much lessinteresting. The paltry excuses he made for altering the plans! Poorfellow, he thought that the "kid" would not see through his transparentsubterfuges; but that sharp-witted youngster was not so easily befooled,and he voted the proceedings slow, and did not fail to express theopinion that his brother was no better than a milksop.
"You say you don't 'feel inclined' to ride to Khasmi to-day," exclaimedTed in disgust, "because your horse is not quite fit! Bosh! Nimrod neverwas better in his life, and he's just eating his head off. I was lookingat him this morning; he's in the pink of condition, and he simply beggedme to take him out. Would he be in any better condition, I wonder, ifEthel Woodburn was likely to be there?"
Jim turned red, and sharply asked: "What had Miss Woodburn to do withit?"
"That's what I should like to know!" Ted retorted. He then looked up atthe ceiling, placed his hands in his pockets, and calmly observed:"You've no chance there, Jim, she's hooked already."
"What d'you say?" exclaimed the excited captain. "It's not true. Whatd'you mean?" he repeated. "You don't say that Miss Woodburn is engaged?"
"Oh, never mind Miss Woodburn!" drawled Ted in his most exasperatingmanner. "What's she got to do with it? The question is whether we rideto Khasmi or not."
"Tell me what you mean, you little beggar," Jim went on, half angry, yetlaughing in spite of himself.
Ted crossed his legs, and, still gazing at the ceiling, drawled: "Why,be calm, Russell Major. You just asked what she had to do with thematter of our ride to Khasmi. Why this sudden interest?"
Captain Russell kept his temper and laughed.
"Don't try to be too smart, young 'un," he advised. "But it isn't truethat she's engaged to be married, is it?"
"Well--p'r'aps not exactly that she's engaged," Ted admitted.
There was a tone of pompous condescension in his voice as he went on:"But I hear that Sir Arthur Fletcher, the commissioner here, you know,is gone on her, and, of course, as he's a splendid catch, the 'old man'will want her to marry him, and I don't suppose she'll need muchpressing, for he's a jolly decent fellow. And besides him, half of ourfellows are in love with her, though I don't know why. I don't see muchin her myself; she seems a very ordinary sort of girl to me. And she'ssuch a little thing, you know!"
"You conceited young booby!" Jim laughed. "I shall have to take thebounce out of you, young man."
Captain Russell began to hate the Commissioner of the Aurungporedistrict very cordially, as well as all the unmarried officers of the193rd--half of them for daring to aspire to the hand of his charmer, andthe other half for being such soulless clods as to refrain fromkneeling before the shrine at which he worshipped. Needless to add,then, that he spent a most unhappy day and sleepless night.
Jim was the eldest son, and Ted the third, of Major-General Russell, asoldier who had distinguished himself as a youngster in the Gurkha warof 1815, and later in the Afghan and Sikh campaigns. Jim had been tenyears in India, and had fought against the Sikhs and helped to conquertheir country, the Punjab, before he had been out many months. A year ortwo later he and his cousin, Charlie Dorricot, had been shut up in thesmall fort of Chiras, with a mere handful of sepoys, and they had comethrough the siege with credit. Dorricot was now a lieutenant in theSirmur Battalion, stationed in the Dehra Dun, near Simla.
The evening following the above conversation, Jim burst into Ted'squarters. His face was flushed but beaming, and his eyes seemed to dancethrough sheer happiness. By way of brotherly greeting he struck theensign in the chest.
"Well, young 'un," he cheerfully exclaimed, "you may congratulate me!"
"I'll--I'll knock you down!" answered Ted, staggering from the blow."You bully, why am I to be permitted to congratulate you?"
By way of reply, Jim took hold of his scandalized brother and whirledhim round the room.
"Because I'm engaged to be married, Ted, to the dearest, sweetest, bestgirl in the world!"
"Oh!" gasped Ted. He had divined the cause of Jim's excitement, but theopportunity for making fun of his senior was too good to be thrown away."And what's the dearest, sweetest, best, loveliest, most adorable girlin the world thinking of to have you? Besides, what about Miss Woodburn?I thought you were sweet on her, you know."
Captain Russell was a sterling good fellow, but his nature was somewhatslower than that of his brother. He stared at the cheeky youngster for amoment before he grasped the meaning of the sarcasm. He recollected thatthese events formed privileged occasions for youthful wit, and grinnedaffably; having gained his heart's desire he could afford to beeasy-tempered and tolerant of satire.
"You young cub," he laughed, "you're too facetious for a small boy. It'sEthel Woodburn I'm engaged to, as you know very well."
"Oh!" said Ted slowly. "I didn't recognize her from that glowingdescription."
Russell Minor dodged out of reach, keeping the table between them.
"Pax, old man, I'll apologize; I s'pose she's not a bad sort--for agirl. So I congratulate you--that is, if you _had_ to go and get hookedI don't know that you could have done better. Have you written homeyet?"
"Do be sensible. How could I? Only settled it a couple of hours ago, andI'm going to write now. Wonder what the mater'll think!"
Captain Russell sat down and took out a pen and some writing-paper. Heshortly rose, however, and pushed the paper from him.
"No, I'll wait till to-morrow," he muttered. "I'm not quite sure thatI'm not dreaming now, so I'll go and walk it off."
This was going from bad to worse, thought Ted, as two more days passedand his brother was spending all his precious leave walking or ridingabout with the girl, who seemed just as stupidly happy as he. Though Tedbelieved (in spite of his chaff) that no one could help liking andadmiring his brother, he could not see the sense of this falling inlove. Why on earth was this foolish Ethel Woodburn continually casting
hurried glances across the room at Jim? Still more incomprehensible wasthe look of gloom that settled on his brother's face whenever Ethelquitted the room for however short a period, or the sudden access of joywhen she returned.
"Thank goodness, I shall never make such a fool of myself!" hereflected; but even this thought did not console him for the loss of hisbrother's society. True, both Jim and Ethel frequently asked him to joinin their rides and walks, but, recognizing the truth of the old sayingthat "two's company, three's none", he decided not to become a nuisanceto the lovers. He was far from satisfied with the new conditions,however, and considered himself ill-used.
"Why should Ethel Woodburn come between us in this way," he grumbled tohimself, "when I'd been looking forward to such a good time with oldJim? I wish she'd stayed in England."
He became morose and irritable, answering curtly when Jim spoke to him,and keeping out of Miss Woodburn's way as much as possible. CaptainRussell was too happy to take much notice of the change in the "young'un's" manner, but Ethel observed it with pain. She liked Ted, and hadalways considered him the nicest boy in the regiment, and her love andadmiration for Jim and the pleasure she found in being with him made hersee more clearly how the ensign felt the loss of his brother's society.She hated the idea of causing a coolness between them, and determined todo her utmost to gain Ted's friendship and reconcile him to theinevitable.
She therefore took the first opportunity to speak to him when Jim wasnot present.
"Ted," she began, "won't you come a ride with us to-morrow? I wish youwould."
"Oh, you won't want me!" the ensign ungraciously replied. "I shall onlybe in the way."
"But we do want you, really. Jim came here to see you, and it seemshorrid of me to monopolize him as I have been doing, when you ought tohave the first claim. You know," she continued with a sparkle of fun inher eyes, "that one can't help falling in love, so you must not be toohard on us. You and I are to be brother and sister, and I do want us tobe good friends, and I wish to know you better, Ted. Do join usto-morrow!"
"Would you really like me to?"
"I should, honestly. You'll come, won't you?"
"Thank you very much, Ethel,--only I don't want to be a nuisance."
"And I don't wish you to think me a nuisance. Thank you, Ted; it's verydecent of you to come."
When she had gone, Ted was undecided whether to be pleased or not. Incommon with many others he found a certain unhealthy enjoyment incherishing a grievance. Our hero was a good specimen of the type of boyfrom whose ranks the British ensign was recruited. Rather tall for hisage, he was well built and proportioned, not weedy; fairly good-looking,though by no means handsome, with honest eyes that could look onestraight in the face. A good athlete and gymnast, he had been regardedas the strongest forward in the school fifteen. He was also a goodbowler, and the best outfield in the school, though he did not shinewith the bat. His intellectual attainments had perhaps been lessstriking, though no one had ever classed him as a "duffer". Many ascrape had he been in, and many a punishment had he received, and he hadnever tried to clear himself by means of a lie.
Being therefore a healthy-minded boy, he saw clearly, when Miss Woodburnhad left him, that his fit of sulks and jealousy had been ratherfoolish, and that his grievances against her were imaginary. No onelikes to appear a fool even to one's self, so, not unnaturally, falsepride set to work to seek excuses for his conduct, and when the timecame to join them, he was still undecided, and almost ready to take thefirst opportunity to desert them.
They trotted away from cantonments, past the tank, and along a road thatled between stretches of level fields green with the young corn. Thefaint breeze brought with it the clean smell of damp earth, recalling toTed's mind many a ride at home when the wind blew from the south-west.Ethel and Jim were in the highest of spirits, and they chaffed oneanother freely, greatly to the edification of the ensign, who hadanticipated unlimited "spooning"--a state of mind he loathed. He quicklymade the discovery that his future sister-in-law was by no means badfun, and when he and Jim entered into a dispute respecting the merits ofthe Guides as compared with the 193rd, Ethel took his side against herlover, wittily supporting the ensign's arguments and making fun of theGuides. Strange to say, Captain Russell appealed to like and admire theraillery of the girl he worshipped.
Ethel Woodburn was not merely a good-looking, dainty, and sweet-temperedgirl--she was good throughout; and as she was not above taking pains togain the approval of her lover's brother, she rapidly won a place inthat youth's by no means too susceptible heart.
Ethel was a graceful horsewoman, and this accomplishment told in Ted'seyes, for he himself was an uncommonly good rider to hounds. Accustomedto horses from his earliest childhood, he loved and understood the noblecreatures. When home from school in the winter he had rarely missed ameet of the Cheshire hounds, and had more than once been in at thedeath. So fond was he of horses that he had set his heart upon joining acavalry regiment, but Major-General Russell had decided against thatexpensive luxury.
He therefore approved cordially, and with open admiration, of Ethel'sfearless riding and firm seat, and, muttering to himself "She'll do!" hebegan to acquiesce more willingly in the new order of things.
Ted's horse--"Tommy Dodd"--a powerful roan purchased quite recently, wasyoung and foolish, and started violently on the slightest provocation,swerving from one side of the road to the other, or prancing onhind-legs with frightened eyes and twitching ears. But the boy kept hisseat with unperturbed face, soothing the steed until Tommy had recoveredfrom his alarm. Ethel, for her part, watched his perfect mastery of theanimal with undisguised admiration.
"You're fond of horses, Ted; ain't they glorious?" she asked, strokingher chestnut affectionately. "I'm glad we have tastes in common."
"Yes. I think I like riding better than anything else," the ensignreplied with enthusiasm.
"Ted's a good rider!" Jim observed approvingly; "a good deal better thanI am. He took to it like a duck to water."
"By the way, Jim, you're staying over the races, ain't you?" the youngerbrother enquired.
"Let me see, when do they come off? To-day week?"
"Yes, you _must_ stay!" declared Ethel.
"I think I can manage it, but I must certainly leave on the followingday."
"Shall we carry off the cup, Ted?" the girl went on, appealing to theensign's _esprit de corps_ with a smile that went to his heart. TheAurungpore cup was now in the mess-room of the 193rd, and strenuousefforts were to be made to wrest it from the regiment.
"I don't think anything is likely to beat 'The Padre' if Markham's kneewill only get better."
"Is the regiment putting its trust in Captain Markham's mount, then?"asked Jim.
"Yes," replied the girl. "We have two other horses entered, but they saythat neither of them will have a chance against Lieutenant Harrington'sof the Ahmednuggur Irregulars, or Mr. Vernon's 'Flying Fox'."
"Who's he?"
"Mr. Vernon? Oh, he's a civilian--a 'duck'."
"Madame!" exclaimed Jim, pretending to appear shocked beyond measure.
"Yes, sir; a duck!" Ethel repeated, unabashed.
"Please understand, madame, that you must henceforward apply thatendearing epithet to no one save your affianced husband," Jimperemptorily ordered.
"I shall certainly not apply it to you, Jim," replied the laughing girl."I do respect you a little, you know."
"That's so," interposed Ted. "Old Jim's a good bit of an ass, you know,but he's not quite idiotic or depraved enough to be likened to a duck.Is Mr. Vernon a fool that you call him that?"
"By no means; he's a most charming man. I simply intimated that untilrecently he has been employed in the Company's service in the BombayPresidency. Haven't you learned that slang yet, Ted?"
"No! What on earth do you mean?"
"Well, if a man serves in Bengal he's a _Qui hy_; in Bombay he becomes a_duck_, and in Madras he's _benighted_. You know that you're a_griffin_,[1] I suppose?"
"Oh, yes! I know that much."
"In reply to your question, then, Jim, Mr. Vernon has not been herelong; he owns a good horse, and he's a first-rate rider. One of yourGuide officers is in too, is he not?"
"Spencer means to have a try, and he'll take a lot of beating. The menof the Guides cavalry can ride, understand, and you ought to feelhonoured that one is going to take the trouble to patronize your races."
"Ah, well! the 193rd don't fear any officers of the Guides; do we, Ted?"
"Not a bit! The Guides are only a lot of brigands!" he made answer.
"Exactly. I keep telling your brother that it will go against the grainto marry a man in such a disreputable corps."
Jim grinned. "Then give me back my freedom," said he.
"I don't know what we shall do," continued the girl, treating thisremark with the contempt it deserved, "if Captain Markham's knee refusesto get right. He's a perfect steeple-chaser, and it's as much throughhis handling as the merits of his horse that we hope to win the day.'The Padre' is a most lovable animal, but this is his firststeeple-chase."
"Can no one take Markham's place, then, if he should be unable to ride?"
"I'm afraid not. You see, none of our officers is first-class at thesport, and the two best are already engaged to ride their own mounts. Soif 'The Padre's' owner doesn't ride--why, we shall lose the cup."
Suddenly a bright and joyful idea seized upon the girl.
"Why, Ted," she exclaimed, "I believe you could ride him!"
"Oh, no! I don't know the horse, and I've never ridden in a flat race,much less a steeple-chase."
"You'd do it very well," affirmed the elder brother, and praise from Jimwas praise indeed. It was the first compliment he had paid the "young'un" during the visit.
"I'm sure you would, Ted," the girl affirmed. "Do--for the honour of the193rd!"
Flushed with excitement and with the glow of perfect health, EthelWoodburn looked charming that winter morning. Needless to say that oneman in the world thought so. Ted blushed at the compliment to hisriding.
"But what about Markham?" he objected. "I suppose you'll consult himfirst? It's hardly likely that he'd trust me on 'The Padre'."
"That will be all right. I can manage Captain Markham."
"Oh indeed, madame!" observed Jim. "Another wretched victim of yourwiles, I suppose?"
"Exactly so, sir. I trust this will show you the necessity for goodbehaviour if you wish to remain honoured by my favour."
Ensign Russell was beginning to think that after all engaged couples didnot of necessity behave in quite so silly a fashion as he had imagined.Certainly these two seemed to enjoy poking fun at one another, andshowed no signs of "spooning", each treating the other as the best offriends. Ethel was undoubtedly an uncommonly jolly girl, quite without"side", and the boy was enjoying the ride immensely. How they behavedwhen he was not present he had no means of judging. Possibly he wouldhave changed his opinion had he known.
By this time the three had returned close to the regimentalparade-ground, and, obedient to the pressure of Ted's right leg, "TommyDodd" wheeled and trotted towards his stable.
Captain Markham was only too glad to learn from Miss Woodburn of ourhero's riding capabilities and willingness to mount "The Padre". Theowner explained to Ted that he had bestowed this name on the animal onaccount of its wonderful good temper and gentle nature.
"If ever there was a genial horse it's 'The Padre'. Whatever happens,you feel that you simply can't lose your temper whilst you're ridinghim, he would be so shocked and hurt."
"You should mount Tynan on him, then," suggested Ted, in allusion to abrother ensign, a lad of seventeen, who rarely omitted to include a fewblackguardly oaths in his conversation.
"That little wretch! I wouldn't allow him to touch 'The Padre', evenwith his gloves on. I shall be kicking that sweet youth one of thesedays--hard! I wish he would see the advisability of exchanging into someother regiment."
"The Padre" was a gray four-year-old thoroughbred; a compact horse, towhose bold, friendly, wide-apart eyes Ted at once took a liking. Hislong lean head and well-shaped neck, firmly set on good slopingshoulders, augured a first-class chaser, as did also his powerful backand loins, strong quarters, and short flat feet. Ted looked him over,and knew enough to appreciate these points, and was also glad to noticethat there was plenty of length from hip to hock.
"The last half-mile of the course is downhill," Markham informed him,"and that is where 'The Padre's' shoulders will come in."
Ted mounted the gray, and almost before his knees had gripped the saddlehe felt that he had never been on so noble a beast before. He trottedand cantered up and down the parade-ground before giving the horse hishead, and then returned to the owner flushed and joyful.
The captain's eyes twinkled.
"You'll do, I think, Russell; I can easily see that you like oneanother."
"He's just grand!" was the boy's enthusiastic comment.
The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny Page 2
