The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER III

  Ted does not think much of the Guides

  Quite dazed and half-unconscious Ted was lifted from the saddle. As in adream he heard the prolonged applause of his mess-mates and the shrillyells of delight raised by the swarthy men of the 193rd. LieutenantSpencer held out his hand to the victor and looked him approvingly inthe face.

  "You young scoundrel!" he cheerfully exclaimed, "I congratulate you. Youdeserved to win."

  Ted heartily returned the handshake of his brother's friend, andmuttered something to the effect that the horse should be given all thecredit, not the rider. So great a triumph he had never before known, yethe bore his honours modestly. Colonel Woodburn, Major Munro, CaptainMarkham, and other mess-mates were quickly on the spot, patting andpraising both horse and rider. The thumps on the back given to Ted wererather more vigorous than those awarded to "The Padre", and the ensignhad little breath wherewith to make suitable reply to the shower ofcongratulations. Pir Baksh, the subadar, waved his sword wildly and ledthe sepoys in their volleys of deafening applause.

  There was one jarring note. A brother ensign who was strolling moodilypast the group moved a step nearer to Ted and snarled in an undertone:

  "I've dropped two hundred rupees to-day, thanks to you."

  It was Harry Tynan--a tall, handsome lad with dark hair inclined tocurl, and big brown eyes; the type of boy who from childhood is pettedand spoilt by mothers and aunts. Unless such an one possesses anexceptionally strong character the result is fatal, and Tynan showed aweak mouth and chin.

  "The Padre's" owner caught the whisper.

  "More fool you, you young idiot!" Markham genially observed, as thesilly youngster turned away with a muttered curse.

  Miss Woodburn's congratulations were even more welcome than the praisesof his comrades.

  "I'm proud of my future brother," she said. "You rode just splendidly.Oh, it was exciting! I gave up all hope at the last water-jump.... Andthen when you began to overhaul him down the incline! Didn't theshouting affect your nerves?"

  Ted shook his head. "I don't remember hearing anything. For all I knewthere might not have been a single person within miles except me andSpencer--I mean Spencer and I--Spencer and myself, I should say."

  "I could hardly hold myself in," went on Ethel. "I was dancing up anddown--screaming, I'm afraid."

  "You were indeed, madame," interposed Jim. "You were making a mostdiscreditable exhibition."

  "Ted," exclaimed the girl, "will you marry me? I'm tired of yourbrother."

  "That I will!" replied Ted. "To-morrow if you like. I never couldimagine what you could see in that chap, you know."

  "Very well, I'll abandon him to his fate. He was actually cheering onthat Guide fellow during the last hundred yards."

  "The brute!"

  "Isn't he?"

  "Who--the Guide fellow?"

  With this embarrassing query Lieutenant Spencer joined the party. Ethelblushed crimson, and for once in her life was at a loss for a remark.Jim chuckled away to himself at his sweetheart's discomfiture in mostbrutal fashion.

  "That's right, Spencer," said he. "Come and back me up, I'm in aminority here."

  Miss Woodburn recovered from her confusion. She had already beenintroduced by Jim to "that Guide fellow".

  "I really beg your pardon, Lieutenant Spencer. We were indulging in alittle inter-regimental chaff and abuse. Captain Russell had dared toapplaud you rather than his brother at the final burst. And you don'tunderstand how fond we all are of 'The Padre'. He's the regimentalhorse."

  "Please don't apologize," Miss Woodburn. "I quite understand andsympathize with you. Indeed, I'm glad you're scorching him, for he needsit. And so he was cheering me in preference to your favourite? He musthave most execrable taste."

  "Thank you, Spencer!" Jim hurriedly and joyfully broke in. "Thanks!...Be grateful, Ethel. Don't you see how very complimentary to you thatremark is?"

  For a few moments Miss Woodburn struggled with her amusement, butlaughter mastered her, and she could not speak before Spencer hadpartially recovered his senses and recognized what a left-handedcompliment he had paid her. The Guides lieutenant was far more confusedand nervous now than at any time during the steeple-chase.

  With crimson face he offered reparation.

  "It's my turn to apologize now, Miss Woodburn. I think you'll forgiveme, though. It's my misfortune that I'm not very intelligent."

  "I couldn't dream of doing so, Lieutenant Spencer," Ethel asserted,still laughing. "You paid me out nicely, and I'm sure you did itwilfully; it was far too smart to be unintentional."

  "'Pon my honour, I didn't. I'm not half sharp enough to say anything ofthat kind except by accident. One can't be perfect, you know, and wemust take into account that Russell did show poor taste in applaudingthe inferior horse and rider--especially going against your opinion,though we must acknowledge his perfect taste in at least one respect."

  "I must forgive you after that, Mr. Spencer, though it was rathercrude," said the girl, shaking her head.

  "And I say, Spencer," Jim interposed, "don't talk about 'inferiorrider'. We all know, and Ted knows, that you are a far better horsemanthan he."

  "Of course I do," the ensign heartily agreed.

  "Too much praise isn't good for a youngster," the elder brothersagaciously opined.

  Spencer placed a hand on Ted's shoulder.

  "All the same, young 'un, you won the Aurungpore Cup, and you deservedto win."

  The party of four came to a halt opposite Colonel Woodburn's bungalow.

  "What time shall we start back for Murdan to-morrow?" asked thelieutenant.

  "We must leave early," Jim replied. "Will eight o'clock suit?"

  "Very good," Spencer assented; "the young 'un and I will leave youhere."

  "But you must not think of leaving us yet, Mr. Spencer. Won't you comein? My father would be delighted to know you."

  "Couldn't dream of it, Miss Woodburn, delighted though I should be tomake the colonel's acquaintance. It will be some time before Russellgets leave again, and your last evening shall be sacred. Good-bye, MissWoodburn! I'm very glad to have met you. And may I congratulate youboth? I've known Russell well for some years, and I can congratulateyou, and--forgive me for saying it--I've known you for a couple of days,and I do most sincerely congratulate him."

  Ethel pressed the "horrid Guide man's" hand, and when he and Ted haddeparted, observed:

  "Whilst congratulations are passing round, Jim, I congratulate you onyour friend."

  Ted shared a small, one-story residence just outside the town with hischum Ensign Paterson. His bedroom was only just large enough to allowsleeping-room for Jim, but hearing that Captain Russell's comrade of theGuides was coming to Aurungpore, Paterson had placed his equally limitedaccommodation at Spencer's disposal. Arrived at home, Ted doffed thepigskin and discussed horses and riding with his guest until the timecame for them to sally forth once more. A dinner was to be given by theofficers of the 193rd in honour of the triumph of their regiment. Forthe third time in succession they had won the Aurungpore Cup, and Tedwas the hero of the hour. He enjoyed the role until, his health havingbeen drunk with acclamation, he was called upon for a speech.

  Such an ordeal had never been contemplated, and he had to be dragged tohis feet, a victim of nervous funk. As he faced his quizzing comradeshis mind was a blank; he stammered a few incoherent sentences intendedfor thanks, and abruptly sat down again, feeling convinced that he hadqualified for a place in any home for the feeble-minded. Yet the olderofficers liked him better for this lack of self-confidence than had heshown no sign of confusion. In reply to the toast, "Our Guests",Lieutenant Spencer made a neat and witty speech that set everyone at hisease.

  The ordeal over, Spencer, Paterson, and Ted returned to the littlebungalow, and settled down to await Jim's arrival. Lieutenant Spencerfilled his pipe and lay back in the one chair that the apartmentboasted, Paterson sat straddle-legged across a camp-stool, and Tedsquatted on a box with
his back to the wall and his legs dangling. Theroom was lighted by a candle stuck in a bottle, for were they not in the"Gorgeous East" where luxury and splendour reign supreme?

  "So you fellows of the 193rd are proud of your regiment!" the Guides'officer observed.

  "It's a first-class corps," Ted replied. "They fought like good 'unsthroughout both Sikh wars. You see, we've Bhurtpore as well as Sobraon,Moodkee, and Gujerat on the colours; and the colonel says he'd lead 'emanywhere--they'd follow their officers to the death. Markham's thefavourite with the men, though they're very fond of the 'old man' andMajor Munro."

  "Yours is a queer corps, is it not, Lieutenant Spencer?" Paterson asked.

  Spencer chuckled.

  "It is! But I'm proud of being in the Guides."

  "They say," continued the Scotch boy, "that you have all the frontierraces in the corps--Afridis, Afghans, and other Pathan tribes, Sikhs andGurkhas--and that some of them have been robbers and outlaws, andmurderers even. Is that true?"

  Spencer chuckled still more.

  "Quite true. We have all sorts--men with the best of characters, menwith the worst, and men with no characters at all. We've outlaws anddacoits, thieves and murderers--though they don't call themselvesmurderers; they resemble the border raiders of Scotland of some hundredsof years ago. But every man who joins the Guides has to be strong,healthy, active, brave as a lion, able to track like a Red Indian,climb mountains, and think for himself. Lumsden gets hold of the mostdaring men on the border, such as Dilawur Khan and Futteh Khan andBahram Khan, and makes Guides of them. They don't get coddled; and Iguess we shall have more work to do in the future than any regiment inIndia. We've men of all races and creeds and men of no race orcreed--mostly big truculent Pathans, and nearly a hundred jolly littleGurkhas sent us by the King of Nepal at Sir Henry Lawrence's request.Oh, it's a grand corps! and we can get as many men as we like--scoresapply for every vacancy. Why, there are dozens of fellows learning thedrill at their own expense, both cavalry and infantry, waiting for anopportunity to join us. There's no other regiment in India or Englandcan say the same."

  "Well, I'd rather serve in the 193rd B.N.I.," Ted declared. "I shouldn'tcare to trust your Guides very far. Why, many of your Sikhs must havefought against us eight years ago; and as for the Afridis and Yusufzais,they're always raiding British territory and killing our men, whilst thesepoys of the 193rd have fought under British colours for half acentury."

  "That's right, young 'un; stick up for your regiment."

  "Jim was going to tell me," Ted remarked, "something about that Pathanofficer who was speaking to you this morning. Who is he?"

  "Bahram Khan, do you mean?"

  "Yes, that's the man. We noticed the natives shrinking from him when helooked at them. Why was that?"

  The lieutenant lay back in his chair and smiled.

  "His is a queer story and typical of the Guides," he replied. "A fewyears ago he was a well-known outlaw and brigand chief, who raided andburnt villages and robbed right and left. We could never catch him, soLumsden, our colonel, offered to make him an officer if he'd join theGuides, and he consented and brought his brigands with him."

  Paterson regarded the speaker curiously.

  "Is that a fact?" he asked.

  "It is an absolute fact."

  "We'd keep that sort of ruffian out of the 193rd, wouldn't we,Paterson?" Ted asserted. "Aren't you afraid that you'll wake up somemorning with all your throats cut?"

  "Not in the least. I'd rather be with the Guides than any corps. Withall respect to your sepoys of the 193rd, they've neither the stamina northe resource of our fellows."

  "H'm! you're welcome to them. Eh, Paterson?"

  "I agree with you, Ted. Have you ever seen Colonel Nicholson, LieutenantSpencer?"

  "Jan Nikkulseyn? Rather. I sha'n't forget the first time I met him. Itwas south of Peshawur, close to the border, where a gang of Afghanlabourers were making a road, protected by a half-company of sepoysunder an English subaltern, for it was in a wild district. It was justafter the rains, and a bullock-cart had stuck fast in the deep mud; andthe bullocks, not having the grit of a horse, wouldn't make any efforts.I happened to be riding past with a couple of troopers. A big fellowstanding by in civilian dress had taken his coat off and put hisshoulder to the wheel, but they couldn't move it. This civilian, whom Itook to be the man in charge of the work, then asked the lieutenant andthe sepoys to lend a hand. But the sepoys coolly informed him that theyhad enlisted to fight, not to do menial work, and the officer said:

  "'It's no business of mine. I'm here to protect the road-makers, not todo their work.'

  "I dismounted, and so did one of my two men. The other, Hafiz Khan, bentdown and whispered:

  "'I go to get help, Lieutenant Sahib'; and before I could stop him hewas galloping away. Well, we two turned the scale--though the bigcivilian was worth us both--and at last we got the cart out and trottedaway. A mile or two farther on we saw Hafiz Khan waiting for us, andwhen I slanged him for not staying to help us, he replied:

  "'But he once threatened to hang me, Lieutenant Sahib, and JanNikkulseyn never breaks his word'.

  "'Who?' I asked, quite taken aback.

  "'Jan Nikkulseyn. I am not afraid of a little pushing and pulling, butof Jan Nikkulseyn are we all afraid.'

  "The civilian was Colonel Nicholson. Hafiz Khan had been engaged in twoor three raids before he had enlisted, and, bold as they are, there'snot a Pathan along the border dare look Nicholson between the eyes."

  "And what became of the lieutenant?" asked Ted.

  "He applied for an important appointment at Peshawur a month later. Hefound out his mistake then, and felt sorry he'd ever been born."

  A clatter of hoofs interrupted their talk, and Ted ran to the outer doorto admit his brother. Captain Russell was quiet and grave, for his happydays had come to an end, and to-morrow the dull routine of regimentalwork would begin again. He was evidently little inclined forconversation, and before long the four officers passed off into theadjoining bedrooms.

  Captain Russell was well liked by about one-half of his acquaintances,and disliked by a good proportion of the remainder. His friends knew himfor a brave, good-hearted, conscientious man, and his detractors termedhim a prig. The fault was in his manner, at times heavy, awkward, andsolemn, largely the result of shyness, for with intimate friends hecould be lively and full of fun.

  Serious thoughts occupied his mind as he undressed. Ought not he, theelder brother and man of experience, to give the youngster a few wordsof advice, before leaving him, on some subjects more serious thansteeple-chasing? But how to begin? Jim Russell knew his own failings,and dreaded lest Ted should sneer at him as a prig; and he envied hischum, Spencer, who, he felt sure, could have given the lad sound adviceand warning without the least suspicion of preaching. However, Jim wasconscientious, and he resolved to take the risk.

  The ensign's evident _esprit de corps_ and delight in his regimentfurnished an admirable opening, and sitting on the low bedhalf-undressed, the elder brother spoke like a father to the youngerconcerning his duty to the regiment.

  Then, as the captain was an enthusiastic admirer of the great brothersHenry and John Lawrence, and of their band of devoted followers, thefirst topic naturally led to a eulogy of the Punjab leaders; and Jimexplained to the ensign how Henry Lawrence had begun, and how JohnLawrence was now carrying on the work of showing to the wild Sikhs,Jats, and Mohammedans of the Punjab the highest ideal of British justiceand uprightness.

  Ted listened attentively, but said nothing. He too was already filledwith admiration for those Christian soldiers and statesmen who were soonto save India.

  "Not that I want you to be an objectionable young prig," the captainwent on; "there's a big difference between that and the genuine article.You know what I mean?"

  The ensign nodded, and Jim continued:

  "I like your chum--Paterson; he seems a very decent lad. And I noticedon one occasion that he showed he was not ashamed of his religion. Wh
yshould we so-called Christians be so afraid of acting up to what weprofess to believe? Look at the Lawrences and Herbert Edwardes, three ofthe greatest men in India! They are true Christians, and where couldyou find finer soldiers and braver men? It's a poor soldier who'sashamed of his colours."

  Ted nodded assent, and, feeling that he had done his duty, Jim bade himgood-night and blew out the candle.

  An early breakfast next morning, and our ensign and his two visitorswere in the saddle by seven o'clock. Ten minutes later Ethel Woodburncantered up, attended by a sais, and Spencer and Ted ambled along,keeping well ahead of the lovers.

  "I suppose that's the fort over there?" Spencer asked, and pointed to anugly square building of dark sandstone that dominated the town.

  "Yes, it's an arsenal too. There'd be a big smash in Aurungpore if itwas to blow up," said Ted, who little thought of the influence thatforbidding fortress would exert upon his career.

  "It has half-ruined the town already by its ugliness," Spencer mused."That mosque on the left is a little gem, and that dome is perfect, butthe arsenal spoils them as completely as a factory chimney spoils a viewat home. The Moslems beat us at architecture."

  "I think I must be turning back now," Ted presently observed, "I haveplenty to do before parade."

  They came to a halt and awaited the arrival of the others. The loversparted, Ted shook hands with Jim and Spencer, and nodded in response tohis brother's parting injunction to take care of Ethel. Miss Woodburnstayed, waving her handkerchief, until a bend of the road hid herbetrothed from view. Joining Ted, she touched her bay lightly with thewhip, and they trotted home without exchanging a word.