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

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  The Final Scene at Lucknow

  Lieutenant Boldre lolled back in his camp-chair and smiled a superiorsmile, while Ted Russell scratched his head and gazed with puzzledexpression at the carved pieces upon the chess-board.

  It was undoubtedly checkmate, and he asked himself, almost angrily, howon earth he could have allowed himself to be outmanoeuvred andsurrounded, and his communications cut off, in so absurdly simple amanner. Now that it was too late to avert defeat, he could clearly seehow his opponent's attack could have been met and repulsed.

  "You've licked me this time," he acknowledged. "I'm playing like an_oont_ this morning."

  The tent was Claude's, and it was pitched to the rear of the Dilkusha,or "Yellow Bungalow" as the soldiers called the palace. Ten days hadpassed since the raid on Pindijang, and many things had happened in themeanwhile.

  Having received reinforcements, Sir Colin had once more occupied his oldposition a few miles south-east of Lucknow. He meant the final attackupon that city to be deliberate and scientific, not a wild rush,entailing perhaps the sacrifice of thousands of lives in the narrow,winding streets, where Englishmen would be at a disadvantage. There wasplenty of time, therefore, for an occasional game of chess.

  "Have your revenge?" asked Boldre confidently; and Ted replied that hewas willing, when in stalked Paterson.

  "Well, how's the deputy-assistant, extra-honorary, supernumeraryaide-de-camp? Is he acting as postman?" asked Ted, noticing that Alechad brought letters.

  "The mail has just come in, so I picked yours out to save time. Catch!"

  "Thanks, old man!" said Ted, as he picked up the scattered missives."I'll do as much for you some day, if ever _I_ become a great man.Here's one for you, Boldre, from Simla."

  "That's from the mater, and I owe her one or two already. It's no end ofa fag writing letters. Are yours from home?"

  "One is," Ted replied. "The other is from Aurungpore;" and silenceprevailed for several minutes.

  "Good news from home, Ted, I hope?" said Alec presently.

  "Yes, they're all well. The pater is wishing he was here with us. He'sbeen particularly interested in my last letters telling of our doingswith the Sirmur Battalion, because he was taken prisoner by the Gurkhasin the Nepal war of 1815, and made friends with a lot of them. The materis wishing I was back at home. Why do women cross their letters so much,Alec? It's worse than a Chinese puzzle."

  "Nay, Ted, don't ask me. I don't get shoals of letters in femininehandwriting."

  Ted turned red, laughed, and changed the subject.

  "This reads very funnily now. They write to say how glad they are thatDelhi has fallen, and that Jim and I escaped without harm, and theysuppose that by now the fighting will all be over."

  He opened the second envelope, and Alec winked at Claude, who raised hiseyebrows enquiringly.

  "Surely it ain't?" said he, rising quickly to the joke; and Ted lookedup in feigned bewilderment.

  "Of course it is," Alec answered. "Don't he look rapturous?"

  "And so young!" murmured Claude.

  "Yes; he cut me out too. She preferred the colour of his hair, andfancied that she detected more signs of a moustache."

  Alec dodged, as Ted most irreverently threw a bishop at his head, andresumed:

  "A nice little girl too, daughter of one of our officers. Does she sendany message for me, Ted?"

  Our hero was blushing violently. He sprang to his feet suddenly, caughthis chum by the collar, and rolled both him and his seat over the floorof the tent, smashing the stool and damaging Claude's bed. Then, feelingbetter, he resumed his seat, and Alec picked himself up, laughing.

  "It's a bad case, Claude," said he. "What does she say, Ted?"

  "Well, if you want to know, she asks if I still chum with that assPaterson, or whether he's been knocked on the head by a praiseworthypandy, and a good job too!"

  "That's fiction," commented Alec solemnly. "Go ahead."

  "She says that the weather is sometimes fine, though not so hot as itwill be in June."

  "More fiction. Seems suspicious, Claude, that he should have toextemporize."

  Claude nodded acquiescence.

  "He's in a bad way, that's plain," said he. And Ted went on unheeding:"And that Colonel Woodburn is hardly inconvenienced by his wound; thatshe herself is very well, and has seen Jim several times lately; andthat everything is quiet along the frontier; and that Jim is continuallywishing that the Guides could have been spared for Lucknow; and thatshe's heard of what you did at Agra."

  Here was Alec's turn to blush.

  "Never mind all that," he interrupted hastily. "What we want to know iswhat she says about you."

  But Ted winked, and, pocketing the letter, once more assumed anaggressive demeanour.

  "Pax!" said Alec, retreating. "I'm not going to fight a chap who's inthe habit of exploding gunpowder beneath his opponents. By the way, haveyou seen our allies?"

  "Not yet. Shall we pay them a visit? Come along."

  Among the latest reinforcements were Brigadier Franks' column and JungBahadur's army from Nepal. Franks had been operating with great effectin Eastern Oudh, from the Nepal border, and his men were mostly Gurkhas,lent by the Nepal Government. They had done excellent service, and hadwon one or two quite remarkable victories. Jung Bahadur's force, nearlyten thousand strong, had just come in, and as the army was aware thatSir Colin had been waiting for these Gurkhas, it was expected that thereal struggle was about to begin.

  The three lieutenants strolled down to the Gurkha camp to inspect thenew-comers, and Ted thought of that day on the Ridge when Reid's littleMongolians were indulging in horse-play with their comrades of theRifles, and he remembered how one of the Gurkhas had foretold that JungBahadur would bring his troops to assist the British. He little thoughtthen that he should be present to witness the arrival of the famous_shikarri_.

  The Nepalese allies did not, in Ted's opinion, look quite so tough or sosoldierly as his friends of the Sirmur Battalion, and their officerscompared unfavourably with Merban Sing and Goria Thapa. There was plentyof good material, but the average, though taller in stature, seemed lesssturdy and considerably dirtier. These Nepalese were not all the trueMagar and Gurung Gurkhas; there was a mixture of other clans and races,with a bigger proportion of Hindu blood. These were not quite so ugly aslittle "Johnny", and they did not possess the true military swagger andjolly recklessness. Approaching a group whose faces seemed to bear theright stamp, he addressed them in Magar-Kura, of which tongue GoriaThapa had taught him a smattering.

  The Gurkhas were delighted at being spoken to in their own dialect,understood by so few foreigners, and they responded eagerly. He tried toexplain how he had served with their brethren at Delhi, and it chancedthat when he mentioned the name of his friend Goria Thapa, one of thenew arrivals repeated the name, and it turned out that he knew theSirmur officer, and Ted Russell at once became their blood-brother.

  As they conversed, barely half understanding one another, the men roundabout sprang up to attention, and Alec Paterson nudged Ted in the ribswith his elbow. Turning to see what Alec wanted, he perceived Sir Colin,and by the general's side rode a distinguished-looking, dark-skinnedman, clad gorgeously, and ablaze with diamonds.

  It was the Gurkha prince himself, one of the bravest of the brave, asTed had heard, but by no means a merry, good-natured personage, such ashis friends of the Ridge. Jung Bahadur motioned one of the Gurkhas tohis side, and, looking suspiciously at Ted, he whispered to the man, whoinformed him in reply how it came about that this English youth hadpicked up enough of their language to converse with them.

  Sir Colin beckoned Ted to approach, and asked questions similar to thosebeing answered by Jung Bahadur's informant.

  "Went all through the siege of Delhi, eh?" said he, when his enquirieshad been satisfied. "And your friend also? Acting as lieutenants ofBoldre's Horse now?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Were you the fellows who got that information a
bout the Nana a week ortwo ago?---- You were, eh? You seem to know the natives well. Wish moreof my officers did. I'll see about---- Well, what does Mr. Jung wantnow?"

  The Gurkha prince rode up and addressed Ted in Urdu.

  "You were with my countrymen at Delhi?" said he. "How did they fight?"

  "Like heroes," Ted replied.

  "Ah, that was a fight of giants!" exclaimed the Gurkha with animation."Would I had been there! But I heard about it, and the death ofNikkulseyn."

  The generals rode on, the boys saluted, and Ted said ruefully:

  "I believe he was going to say that he would see about confirming ourappointments when old Jung interrupted."

  "Russell," said Claude solemnly, "I'm going to kidnap that Gurkha chapsome dark night with a few of our Sikhs. Did you notice his diamonds? Hejust dazzled. Hullo, who's this?"

  With a group of English officers who had witnessed the incident was agentleman wearing an unmilitary frock-coat and Hessian boots, whom Tedhad observed more than once in intimate conversation with thecommander-in-chief. He now greeted the boys, and courteously asked whathad interested the Maharaja so. Ted explained, and the stranger thankedhim, and after a few moments' conversation, in which he drew out theyoungsters to speak of those things which interested them most, herejoined his friends.

  "Who's that, Alec?" asked Ted. "He seems a clever chap. Decent too."

  "Don't you know? It's your namesake of the _Times_."

  "What? Dr. Russell?---- Crimea Russell?"

  "That's the man. Sir Colin seems to think a lot of him, and trusts himabsolutely with his plans."

  Next day began the movements on Lucknow. On the morning of March 6th,Outram, with Hope Grant as second in command, set out to make a flankingmovement and co-operate with Sir Colin from the north bank of the Gumti.They were to work along the north-east and north of the city with astrong column, while the main force pushed forward from the east andsouth-east, the two armies being in touch and their artillery able toplay upon the same positions from different sides. The rebel defences,it must be borne in mind, were vast and strong.

  Outram's force marched away to the east, and to those ignorant of itsdestination it appeared to be deserting Lucknow. Before reaching thesouthward bend of the river the engineers constructed a bridge offloating barrels, over which the column crossed and proceedednorthwards, and presently wheeled to the west and encamped, havingcompleted the half of a circle. Alec Paterson was with Outram, Boldre'sHorse with the Southern Army.

  On March 9th a Union Jack floating over the Chaka Palace told thatOutram had captured an important outpost, and that night he almostcompleted the circle, and encamped hardly more than a mile due north ofSir Colin, on the other side of the Gumti. The two armies were soon indirect communication, and as a consequence the rebels abandoned theirfirst line of defence. The British loss was slight, but Sir WilliamPeel, the newly-promoted seaman, had been mortally wounded.

  On the 11th began the first serious fighting for the southern force. SirColin gave Jung Bahadur's army charge of the operations along thesouth-eastern line of defence, across the canal, whilst he attacked fromthe east, in touch with Outram. The Begum Kothi, a fortified palacewhich blocked the way, was stormed with splendid gallantry byHighlanders and Sikhs, the rebels being driven out after they had lostmany hundreds of their comrades. A number of guns were captured, andHodson was slain whilst performing one of his typical feats of valour.

  THE REBEL REELED AGAINST THE WALL _Page 340_]

  Boldre's Horse had little to do, the work lying with the artillery andinfantry until the rebels fled, when the cavalry completed the rout. Itwas not safe to pursue too far, and Ted's Punjabis had the order toretire, when their young officer chanced to notice that in the confusiona handful of Gurkhas, whose zeal had outrun discretion, were faringbadly at the hands of a number of better-armed pandies. He clapped spursto his steed, and called on his men to charge. A Gurkha officer, hisback to a wall, was defending himself gamely against five sepoys withbayonets. In the nick of time Ted sliced at one who, having reloaded,was in the act of firing, and his horse bowled over a second, while thelance of a Dogra sowar disabled a third.

  The long lances of the Punjabis and the force of their charge prevailed,and, taking the surviving Gurkhas in their midst, they trotted backamidst a shower of badly-aimed bullets. Ted then perceived that theGurkha officer was the man who knew Goria Thapa. His gratitude wasgreat, but there was little time for speech-making.

  The capture of the Begum Kothi was not only a brilliant, but also auseful, piece of work, by which they were soon to profit. The way wasalmost opened to the Kaiserbagh Palace, now a huge fortificationmounting very powerful cannon, and this was the key to the position. Butbefore this all-important defence could be carried by storm, it wasfirst necessary to gain possession of the Imambara Mosque, and theinfantry were held back for a time until Outram's guns from the northand Lugard's from the east should have made some impression upon thethick walls of the two stout buildings.

  When the time did come for the infantry to act, a glorious response wasmade. General Franks sent forward the 10th Foot to support. For a timethe resistance was fierce and courageous, but the English and Punjabiswould not be denied. Pressing forward sternly, the rear ranks fillingthe gaps as the leaders fell, their determination at length cowed thepandies, and their bayonets cleared the Imambara. Then the way lay opento the Kaiserbagh, and British hearts beat high.

  Sir Colin had not intended that his brigadier should attempt more thanthe Imambara that day, but seeing that the pandies had lost heart,Franks wisely took upon himself to strike a more decisive blow. Whilehotly pursuing the rebels from the Imambara the British troops hadpenetrated to a strong position overlooking the Kaiserbagh. It would bea thousand pities to relinquish this advantage. So Franks pushed forwardreinforcements, and within a few hours the Kaiserbagh was in our hands,and to all intents Lucknow was gained and a decisive victory had crownedthe British arms. The day had been brilliant and decisive, but marred byone unfortunate result of the commander-in-chief's over-caution.

  Had Outram been allowed to swoop down from the north upon the brokenrebels their collapse would have been complete; in fact the rebellion inOudh would have been smashed. Outram was not only prepared, he was mostanxious to do this. But Sir Colin, hardly realizing how thorough was thedemoralization of the pandies, how real was their dread of the Britishbayonet, feared lest Outram's men should suffer heavily in securing theiron and stone bridges over the Gumti for the passage of his troops. Hetherefore gave Outram strict orders not to cross the river until hecould do so without the loss of a single man. Outram could do nothingbut obey and look on while the glorious chance slipped away.

  There was still fighting in the streets of Lucknow, though the mutineershad lost their hold on the great city. Next in importance toNicholson's storming of Delhi, the capture of Lucknow was the mostsevere blow the sepoys had received. Though the army would be employedfor months sweeping the sepoys into the Terai jungle across the Nepalborder, where Nana Sahib was finally lost, and though Sir Hugh Roseshould chase the Nana's slim general, Tantia Topi, from pillar to postthroughout the spring and summer of 1858 as Kitchener's generals chasedDe Wet, everyone understood that all danger to the British raj was overthrough this day's work.

  Ted Russell was on foot in the streets of Lucknow with two or threeSikhs as Claude Boldre swept past with threescore troopers behind him.

  "Horses been shot?" he called out in passing; and Ted nodded that it wasso. Any attempt to pursue on foot would be useless, so they were turningback towards the Kaiserbagh, where the soldiers, Englishmen,Highlanders, Irishmen, Punjabis, and Jung Bahadur's Gurkhas, were busylooting the treasures of the palace. There were no pandies in sight, andTed's dismounted sowars left their officer and ran off to share in theplunder.

  The solitary Englishman was not unobserved, though there seemed to be noenemy at hand; in fact this particular street was deserted, except for agroup or two of Englishmen and
Irregulars several hundred yards away inthe direction of the Kaiserbagh, and Ted's sowars, now half-way betweenthese groups and their officers.

  So the young Feringhi seemed an easy prey to the three concealed pandieswho were furtively watching him from behind the curtains. A gleam ofhateful satisfaction lit up their dark faces as they noiselessly slippedout of the house. Too late to draw his pistol, Ted heard the stealthytread, but he had kept his sword drawn, and, turning quickly, he raisedhis blade to guard his head and ward off the blow that instinct told himwas being aimed thereat. The tulwar, instead of cleaving his skull,glanced off the sword, and with diminished force bit into his shoulder.He sank with a moan of pain, and the traitor raised his weapon for adeadlier stroke.

  But before the blow could be repeated a pistol rang out, and the rebelreeled against the wall, then sank to his knees and tried to crawl away.His companions, who had been a few yards to the rear of their comrade,hesitated, trying to make up their minds whether to run at once or firstto despatch the wounded enemy. An Englishman in volunteer uniform andone of Ted's Sikhs, who had turned back, threw themselves upon thepandies, who hesitated no longer but fled like hares. Before a dozensteps had been taken in pursuit, one of the pandies turned, and, stillrunning, fired. The Englishman staggered, spun round and dropped dead,and, as he fell, Ted saw his face, and knew that Tynan had wiped out theblot upon his honour. Then the ensign fainted away.

  The Sikh brought back his comrades, and they carried their officer tothe nearest surgeon, who was fortunately able to take the case in handat once, or the boy would have died ere the sun rose upon another day.

  Owing to the ignorance of the Sikhs the gush of blood had not beenstaunched, until the doctor, with quick grasp of the situation, did whatwas necessary to retain the young life that was fast ebbing away.

  Next day Ted Russell was removed on a doolie to the Dilkusha, and hetook no further part in the fighting that ensued before the Mutiny wasfinally extinguished. Recovery was slow, and a couple of months elapsedbefore he was able to walk even a short distance without fatigue. But nopermanent injury had been caused by the blow, and by the end of July hecould get about as usual, both on foot and on horseback; and on the daythat he reported himself as fit for duty, he received the intimationthat both he and his chum Paterson had been officially gazetted aslieutenants in the corps known as Boldre's Irregular Horse.

  CHAPTER XXIX

  Jim Disposed Of

  That dignity had hardly been attained when an interesting ceremony, inwhich Ted played but a subordinate part, took place in Simla. MajorRussell and Ethel Woodburn, finding how much they had to talk about, andhow many thrilling experiences must be related, very sensibly came tothe conclusion that their best course would be to marry with as littledelay as possible.

  Colonel Woodburn's natural objections to such haste had first to beovercome, but having at length become reconciled to the idea of losinghis daughter, he allowed the date to be fixed. Charlie and Ted were sentfor, and at the latter's urgent request, Subadar Goria Tapa was invitedto the wedding. The Sirmur Battalion's head-quarters were then, as now,situated at no great distance from Simla, so that neither CaptainDorricot nor the subadar found any difficulty in attending. CaptainSpencer was another guest whom Ted was glad to meet again. Rapidly as hehad returned from Kashmir on hearing the news of the outbreak, he hadbeen too late to join his regiment and take part in the march to Delhi.John Lawrence had found employment for him with the Movable Column, andhe had been badly wounded in the fighting that took place whileNicholson was in command.

  Three days before the wedding date Ted entered Simla and greeted hisbrother with a salute. Now that the dull days of exile and inaction hadcome to an end he was in the merriest of moods.

  "Come to report myself, sir," said he with a solemn face.

  "Hullo, Lieutenant Russell, V.C.!" was his brother's greeting as Jimlooked up from a table strewn with papers. "Glad you're looking fitagain. I'm blest if I know what you want here, but Ethel would have you.Nice nuisance you'll be, I know."

  The words of this truly fraternal greeting were belied by the heartyhandgrip. Ted retorted in kind.

  "Well, that's brotherly love if you like," said he. "Wretched man! HereI've come, my heart swelling with sympathy and pity for you, and this isyour return. I won't be sorry for you any longer, not one bit. Servesyou jolly well right. Hope you forget the ring, and gash yourself whilstshaving, and that you're late, and that you get stuck in the service,and that your collar comes undone, and your tie crawls round your neck."

  "Much obliged, I'm sure," replied Jim, laughing at his brother'sboisterous spirits.

  "Bless you, Major Russell, you're very welcome."

  Jim winked with much deliberation, whereupon Ted thumped him between theribs and continued his chaff.

  "Cheer up, old man; it'll soon be over, and p'raps you'll recover.You're not the first fellow to be married, though I suppose you imaginethat there's never been such an important affair upon this poor oldglobe before. Cheer up! I've heard of fellows who've survived it."

  "Thanks! I'm fairly cheerful considering, but being with the LucknowArmy don't seem to have improved your at-no-time very admirablemanners."

  "Never had any. Everybody used to tell me how much I took after myeldest brother. Seriously, Jim, I wish you'd been with us at Lucknow.I've had a great time."

  And Jim listened, leaning back with legs crossed and hands claspedbehind his head, while Ted recounted some of the most striking episodesof the campaign and of his own adventures.

  "You're a decent sort of kid, Ted," the elder brother allowed. "I wishthe Guides had been there. Now I believe you're dying to have a chatwith Ethel, and I know she's as anxious as can be to see you again. Sogo and find her, young 'un. I'm horribly busy and can't go with you. Iwould if I could, you may be sure."

  "I will go and condole with her. _She_ needs some genuine sympathy andconsolation, and she shall have it. How far is it? Worth taking thehorse out again?"

  "No, not five minutes away."

  Before Ted had proceeded a couple of hundred yards, he beheld the objectof his search riding towards home, her thoughts uplifted far above thehumble wayfarer whom she was about to pass without recognition.

  "Evening, Miss Woodburn!" said Ted.

  Ethel gave a start and reined in her horse.

  "Why, Ted, I didn't know you'd arrived."

  "Just come. Affectionate brother intimated that, as he had no room forthinking of anyone but you, I disturbed him."

  "So you were coming to see me? You are looking well, Ted. I halfexpected to see a decrepit invalid with crutches and bandages."

  "I'm all right now. Should have come though to see you married if I'dhad to be brought on a doolie."

  He assisted the girl to dismount, and, giving the horse in charge of thesais, they entered the house.

  "I am glad you look so well," repeated Miss Woodburn. "Paterson kept usposted up as to your state so long as he remained at Lucknow. We had ananxious time for a week or two."

  "You heard about Tynan, I suppose? He proved a brick in the end, did henot?"

  "Yes, I was glad when I read Alec's account of how he died. That is--youknow what I mean?"

  Ted nodded.

  "Had you not seen him since that night at Lahore?" Ethel continued.

  "Never once until that moment. I've not been able to find out anythingabout him either. He must have enrolled in the Volunteers, under anassumed name, of course."

  Colonel Woodburn, looking his old self again, was genuinely pleased towelcome the boy. For half an hour he drew him out on the subject of theLucknow campaign, and then Ethel claimed her brother-in-law again.

  "Come and see my presents, Ted," she ordered.

  "With pleasure--oh, by the way, I've brought my little contribution.Hope you'll like it."

  She gave a little scream of delight as he handed her an open box.

  "Oh, how beautiful! How lovely! Ted, you shouldn't have given meanything like this. It's muc
h too good."

  "It's not half good enough."

  "Look at this necklet, father! Is it not exquisite?"

  Colonel Woodburn examined the present, and gave a whistle of amazement.

  "Ted, my boy, wherever did you get this?" he asked. "It's worth hundredsor I'm no judge. Diamonds and rubies of this size! And whatworkmanship!"

  "It's from Lucknow, colonel. Loot, I'm afraid."

  "Loot?" The colonel looked more serious, as he asked the question.

  "I'm not certain--only circumstantial evidence. You see, there was a lotof looting when we entered Lucknow, and the Sikhs and Jung Bahadur'sGurkhas got nearly everything. Jung's men took several thousand cartsfilled with loot back to Nepal. A day or two before I was wounded Ihappened to save the life of one of Jung's Gurkhas who was being setupon by a crowd. He seemed to be an officer of good standing, and he wasvery grateful, and when I spoke to him in Magar-Kura, he was justdelighted. When I was well enough I found that this parcel had beenhanded to me, and this necklace was inside, and not a word ofexplanation. So I guess they came from him, but couldn't make sure ashe'd gone. It was probably one of many things he'd picked up in thepalace, but I don't know that for certain. They were allowed to loot fora little while to repay their services, so it's come by perfectlyhonestly, Ethel. I offered it to the general of our column for him tosend to the common stock, but he sent back word that it was mine, rightenough. So it's quite right, isn't it, Colonel Woodburn? Mayn't sheaccept it with a clear conscience?"

  "Certainly, except that it's much too costly a present to accept, Ted."

  "It is indeed, old boy. I'm very, very grateful, and it's very generousof you, but you must keep it. You'd be sorry in a year or two, and you'dblame me for taking it."

  Ted began to grow angry. "If you won't take it, Ethel," he sullenlydeclared, "I'll throw it on the fire. I mean it."

  "But, Ted, you'll be married some day, and think how you would like yourwife to have this--and she _ought_ to have it. Then you would think itmean of me to have taken it."

  He laughed scornfully.

  "Marry? Me? I'm not going to get married! I don't want anyone to have itbut you; I meant it for you as soon as I saw it."

  A way of escape occurred to the girl.

  "Let us strike a bargain, old boy. If I accept it now, will you allow meto present it to your wife on the day you get married?"

  Again Ted laughed, this time with light heart.

  "I agree to that--it amounts to the same thing."

  "Do you approve of the arrangement, father?"

  "Trust a woman to find some way out," said the colonel. "I think thearrangement a good one. Honour satisfied on both sides."

  "Now, Ted, I can thank you properly--especially for your thought onfirst seeing the necklet. But come and see the rest of the 'loot', asyour unprincipled and shameless brother calls it."

  "He calls it that, does he? Good judge, Jim."

  "Yes, his first daily enquiry is, 'Any more loot to-day?' After beingsatisfied on that point he condescends to enquire after me."

  "I shouldn't have thought he was ever 'satisfied on that point'."

  Ethel Woodburn laughed merrily.

  "Quite true, he's not. He invariably grunts, 'Is that all to-day?' andtells me that I ought to have laid myself out to be particularly nice toeveryone for the past fortnight."

  "Greedy brute, isn't he? But I say, Ethel, isn't he content with these?I call it a jolly good show considering that the presents from Englandhaven't come yet. I s'pose it's just Jim's peculiar way of expressinghis gratitude."

  "Have you shown him the necklet?"

  "No fear; he'd have collared it and stuck to it, and pawned it beforeyou could see it. He wouldn't have had your scruples."

  "I'm afraid that you have a very poor opinion of my husbandthat-is-to-be, Lieutenant Russell."

  Ted laughed, and most rudely winked.

  "About as bad as your own, I guess, Mrs. Major Russell."

  Ted walked round from table to table reading the cards and asking whowas who.

  "Sir Arthur Fletcher," he read out, halting before one of the presents."That's jolly nice of him!"

  "I see Charlie Dorricot's sent nothing yet?" he added. "He's dueto-night, isn't he?"

  "Yes, I expect to make his acquaintance shortly."

  "Ripping good chap, Charlie! You'll like him.

  "He's very anxious to inspect you," the young subaltern continued. "Hedid all he could to draw Jim out about you, but it was no go--Jim justgazed amiably upon him. Then he drew a fancy picture of you."

  "Who did? Jim?"

  "Don't jeer! You know who I mean. He also offered bribes to read yourletters--precious small bribes, though! But nothing could make Jimwrathy when he was reading the epistles of Ethel."

  "You helped him, I suppose?"

  "Helped Jim--to read them? Who's mixed with the personal pronouns now?"

  "From your account of your cousin," Ethel observed, disdaining to answerthe gibes, "I think it very doubtful that I shall like him. He appearsto have been--well--impertinent."

  "Regular impudent beggar he is! I knew you'd think so; that's why I toldyou. Never mind, Ethel, you may be sure of this, that he'll like you.Besides, I stuck up for you, as Jim wouldn't."

  "I am indeed grateful, Lieutenant Russell."

  "You do look nice when you laugh, Ethel. Ah! here they are, I can hearCharlie's voice."

  They went down to greet the new-comers.

  "I seem to know you quite well already, Captain Dorricot," Ethelremarked as they were introduced.

  "I'm afraid I can hardly say that I know you at all," Charlie replied,"as Jim would never venture on a description, however greatly Iencouraged him, feeling, no doubt, his inability to do the subjectjustice."

  "That's really rather nice, you know," Ted commented, with a grave airof abstraction; and the girl blushed becomingly.

  An awkward pause ensued. Then four people spoke together. Three stoppedrespectfully.

  "Can you guess, Jim, what Ted has given us for a present?"

  "That's a hint for you, Charlie. Open your packages at once. I am aboutto marry a most sordid little woman, whose absorbing thought is:'Presents, and how to obtain them'."

  "Sir, you speak that which is not true. Look at this!"

  "Whew! You've been looting, young man. Where?"

  "Not at all--present--Lucknow--Gurkhas. By the way, Charlie, did youknow that young Roberts, your school-fellow, won the V.C.? Won it twiceover, in fact--I saw him."

  "Well done, D.A.Q.M.G.! That young man will make his mark in the world.He's a man that understands men--and things."

  Ethel then related Ted's story of the jewels and the bargain made, andCharlie presented his gifts, a pair of paintings brought back with himfrom England two months before. To everyone's surprise he next draggedout a pair of silver-mounted kukris, Goria Thapa's present to MajorRussell, in memory of their father's friendship.

  Charlie and Ted returned to Jim's quarters, leaving the lovers half anhour of solitude.

  "My stars, Ted, that's a pretty girl!" observed the former.

  "Isn't she stunning? She's no end fun either, though she looks sodemure."

  "Jim has displayed unusual discrimination, I must say."

  * * * * *

  The day, by custom termed "auspicious"--though why the bridegroom cannottell--came round at last. Major Russell appeared as joyous as couldreasonably be expected--and no more. Whilst awaiting the bride'sappearance Captain Dorricot, as best man, apparently considered his amost gladsome task. Why does "a best man" consider it necessary to beribald?

  "Major Russell," he whispered, "are you or are you not going to holdyourself straight? Think of me! You're disgracing me before all thesepeople. Don't look so cheap, man; you'll get used to it!

  "Now remember my advice and start from to-day as master; let her seethat you won't be trodden upon."

  "Oh, don't be an idiot!"

  "Bless us, he think
s, poor fellow, that it'll be rather nice to betrodden upon by her! Quick! She's coming! Take your eyes from the roofand try to look as though you'd been here before and could do it on yourhead."

  Good as the advice was it passed unheeded, for all eyes were now turnedtowards the church porch as Ethel Woodburn entered--charmingly sweet,and shyly happy.

  The ceremony over, our friend Ted forgot his new-born dignity and becamea boy again, and a perfectly irrepressible one, until Jim and hisdainty wife had driven away in the direction of the everlasting hills.

  Then came the reaction of depression that must inevitably attend thehappiest and best-suited marriages.

  "Poor old colonel seems cut-up!" said Charlie, as he and Spencer and Tedlounged in the veranda some hours later gazing at the spangled velvet ofthe sky.

  "No wonder," mused Spencer. "He's left alone now, poor fellow! It'shardly a joyful occasion for him. Have a cheroot, Russell?"

  "No, thanks!" Ted replied.

  "Teddy's a good boy," Dorricot laughed.

  "He's quite right," said Spencer. "Nothing to be ashamed of in knowingthat one is not old enough to have stopped growing."

  "She's a pretty girl!" Dorricot observed thoughtfully after a pause."Hope I may do as well as Jim when my time comes."

  * * * * *

  Ted Russell's adventures as a boy were over. Readers interested in hissubsequent career, if any such there be, may care to know that shortlyafter his return to India after serving under Sir Hope Grant in China,he obtained twelve-months' home leave. While in England the necklet,curiously enough, did again change hands, and Captain Edward Russell wasby no means so greatly astounded by the circumstance as, to judge fromformer declarations, he ought to have been.

  Throughout the Second Afghan War he commanded one of the regiments ofRoberts' army, and Colonel Paterson distinguished himself during thesame campaign at Ahmed Khel, his regiment being with Sir Donald Stewart.The old friends met at Kabul, and Ted took part in the famous march toKandahar, whilst Paterson proceeded with his general to the Kyber, andthence to Peshawur.

  A few years later Colonel Russell was in command of a brigade in one ofthe North-west Frontier expeditions, and he finally retired from thearmy with a hammered slug in his right leg, as Major-general Russell.