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diff --git a/old/22275-h.htm.2021-01-25 b/old/22275-h.htm.2021-01-25 new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29133b8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/22275-h.htm.2021-01-25 @@ -0,0 +1,5920 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and Of the Crimea, by David Christie Murray + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and of +the Crimea, by David Christie Murray + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield and of the Crimea + +Author: David Christie Murray + +Release Date: August 8, 2007 [EBook #22275] +Last Updated: September 16, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VC, A CHRONICLE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A CHRONICLE OF CASTLE BARFIELD <br /> AND OF THE CRIMEA + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By David Christie Murray + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h4> + CHATTO & WINDUS <br /> <br /> 1904 <br /> <br /> LONDON + </h4> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>V. C.</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + V. C. + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + The people of Castle Barfield boast that the middle of their High Street + is on a level with the cross of St. Paul’s Cathedral. The whole + country-side is open, and affords a welcome to storm from whatever corner + of the compass it may blow. You have to get right away into the Peak + district before you can find anything like an eminence of distinction, + though the mild slopes of Quarry-moor and Cline, a few miles to the + westward, save the prospect from complete monotony. East, and a trifle to + the north, rises Beacon Hargate, on the top whereof one of the innumerable + bonfires which warned England of the coming of the Armada hung out its + flaming banner in the sight of three counties. Topping that high + tableland, Beacon Hargate is familiar with wild weather at the proper + seasons, and by dint of use takes very little notice of it. But on the + evening on which this story has its proper beginning such a storm raged + round and over the old Beacon as no man or woman of that region could even + remember. It began in the grey of the dawn in wild and fitful gusts, + driving thick squalls of rain before them, but long before midday it lost + its first waywardness and settled down to business with a steady purpose. + It grew in force from hour to hour, and almost from minute to minute, + until all living things sought shelter. The disconsolate cattle huddled + under the sparse hedgerows, looking down their broad, dripping noses in a + meek abandonment to fate. The sheep packed themselves in any hollowed + corner they could find, and hugged their soaked fleeces close to each + other in uncomplaining patience. The trees fought the blast with impotent + arms, and shrieked and groaned their protest against it Flying boughs, + like great grotesque birds, went hurtling through the air. + </p> + <p> + As the brief March day fell towards its close, the storm seemed suddenly + to double in fury. Oak and elm went down before it bodily, torn from the + stout anchorage of many years, and before the wind had raged itself to + rest many scores of patriarchal landmarks were laid low. Roar of tormented + woods, howl of wind, crash on crash of breaking boughs or falling trees, + blended to one tune, and a plunging rain came down in ropes rather than in + lines, driven at a fierce angle. + </p> + <p> + Night fell, and the pitiless tempest raged on, but with the coming of the + darkness one sign of cheer displayed itself. From the windows of the plain + old grey-stone mansion on the eastern side of the Beacon Hill lights began + to glow, first in this chamber and then in that, until the whole squat + edifice seemed charged with warmth and comfort. The tempest poured its + full strength against the grey-stone house. It shook the windows with its + frantic hand, it shrieked and howled and roared amongst the chimney tops + and gables, it strained the hasps of the staunch oaken doors, and the old + house faced it with a broadening smile, and shone the brighter by contrast + as the night grew blacker. + </p> + <p> + In the whole roaring region there was but one man to be found abroad, and + he was making for the grey-stone house. He was a portly person with a + prosperous-looking development about the neighbourhood of the lower + waistcoat, and he was sorely tried, though he was as yet on the sheltered + side of the hill. His heavy black broadcloth was soaked through and + through, and weighed him down. The icy wet had chilled him, and he + breathed hard at every laboured step. One stiff slope of some fifty yards + had still to be surmounted before he reached the hill-top. Twenty yards + further lay the house, with all windows beaming. It was as yet invisible + to him, but in his mind’s eye he could see it, and the thought of it gave + him courage. He turned his back to the plunging rain, and paused to gather + breath before he assaulted the last slope of the hill. He had lost his + hat, and the water trickled out of his hair in rivulets. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve seen worse weather than any they can brew in the neighbourhood of + Beacon Hargate,’ he panted to himself, ‘but it’s one thing to have a good + tight craft under your feet, and it’s another to be bogged in the dark, + over half a mile of rotten plough-land. All right, my lads, you haven’t + got Jack Jervase under yet. Here goes.’ + </p> + <p> + With this he faced the hill and the rain again, and made his difficult and + slippery way upward, impeded by his clinging clothes, and snorting like a + grampus. Right at the crown of the hill, most fortunately for the + wayfarer, there was a thick coppice of stunted trees, which afforded + refuge from the gale and shelter from the rain. He was quite blown by the + time he reached it, and he clutched at the nearest sapling as a drowning + man clutches at a spar. He stood there perforce for a full minute, panting + hard. Then he shook his head doggedly, and muttered a second time: + </p> + <p> + ‘All right, my lads. You haven’t got Jack Jervase yet.’ + </p> + <p> + And then, helping himself along from hand to hand, he skirted the coppice, + until he came to the unsheltered brow of the hill. It was well for him + then that he had something to hold on by. Even as it was, he was clean + lifted from his feet, and it was only by a prodigious effort that he saved + himself from being blown away like a leaf. But having once struggled past + the actual summit, he had escaped that danger, and a minute later, through + howling-wind and scourging rain, the fire-lit windows of the house were + beaming ‘home!’ upon him. Another instant and his feet were on the firm + gravel, and he went scudding before the wind until he had gained the + corner of the house. Here, feeling his troubles over, he paused once more + for breath, and took a dripping way towards the rear of the building. + </p> + <p> + He stayed for an instant to glance in at an old-fashioned broad mullioned + window. He looked into a room where a jolly coal fire was burning in the + grate, and blazing up the chimney. About it half-a-dozen people sat + comfortably grouped, and there was a big brown steaming jug upon the + wooden table in the centre of the room, which was paved with the large + square tiles locally called ‘quarries.’ One of the group about the fire + turned to this jug and poured out from it a generous-looking stream of + dark brown liquid into a number of mugs of the old Staffordshire ware, + which at that time of day was common in rustic households, though it seems + now to have vanished from all places but the shelves of the collector. The + onlooker shivered and spoke under his breath. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re making pretty free with old Jack’s old October inside there, ain’t + you? Pretty fine old crowd to come home to!—guzzling at my expense. + I’ll sort ye.’ + </p> + <p> + A moment later he was in the room, but short as the interval was between + the close of his speech and his appearance before the group about the + fire, his temper had apparently changed, for he broke out in a cheery + voice: + </p> + <p> + ‘Hilloa, my lads! I reckon one or two of you are weatherbound. Well, + you’ve found a snug harbour here, and you’re welcome to it. Mary,’ he went + on, addressing a thick-set woman of middle age, who had risen at his + entrance, and stood before him with an embarrassed aspect, ‘don’t tell the + missus that I’m at home, but go upstairs and lay out dry things for me. + I’m wet through to the marrow. I’ll have a drop of that myself,’ he said, + laying a hand on one of the mugs and nodding round the little circle, with + a beaming face. + </p> + <p> + One of the men noisily shifted his chair to make room for him, and the + master of the house approached the fire, and, turning his back to it, + began to steam like a whole washing day. + </p> + <p> + He sipped comfortably at the creaming contents of the mug, and fairly + beamed upon his guests. + </p> + <p> + ‘You chaps,’ he said, ‘will have to wake up by and by. I hope there isn’t + one of you that hasn’t got the spirit to go out and fight for his Queen + and country?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There ain’t a-going to be no fightin’, Mr. Jervase,’ said one of the men + sheepishly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you make any mistake about that, my lad,’ said Mr. Jervase. ‘I’ve + got a bit of news for you as will set old England in a blaze within + another four-and-twenty hours. And I suppose I’m the only man within five + miles that knows it. You mark my words, now, all of you. You’ll remember + this night to the last day o’ your lives. This is the 27th March, this is. + The twenty-seventh of March in the year of Our Lord eighteen hundred and + fifty-four. That’s a date as will stick in your gizzards, my hearties. + It’s a date as will stick in old England’s gizzard, and in the Czar of + Rooshia’s gizzard, and in the gizzard of Napoleon Three. And you can lay + your oath to that, because Jack Jervase told you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what’s happened, Mr. Jervase?’ asked the man who had spoken earlier. + </p> + <p> + ‘Happened?’ cried Mr. Jervase. ‘Why, Her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria + has sent a message to her Royal ‘Ouses of Parliament to say as she’s + declared war agen the Czar of all the Rooshias. And before a month is over + your heads, my lads, there’ll be war amongst the Great Powers of Europe, + for the first time in eight-and-thirty years.’ + </p> + <p> + The five men rose to their feet unconsciously in their excitement. They + were mere country-side clods, and knew as little of the rights and wrongs + of that great Eastern question which had overshadowed the world so long, + as the horses they drove about the heavy country lanes or the flocks they + herded. But they broke into a cheer. + </p> + <p> + The bringer of the news lifted a hand, and waved them into silence. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll have the missus in to know what all that hullaballoo’s about,’ he + said, reprovingly: ‘and I don’t want to be bothered until I’ve made a + change. Now I’ll tell you what it is, my lads. The Queen wants men, and + there isn’t one of you that isn’t fit to go a-soldiering. I just tell you + this—if any one of you, or the whole lot of you, see fit to take the + Queen’s shilling I’ll put a pound to it for bounty money. Now, you needn’t + cheer again,’ he added hastily. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of fact, none of his listeners showed any inclination to + cheer. War in the abstract was a thing to cheer about, but war in the + concrete—war with its possibilities—thus brought home to each + individual mind excited no enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + ‘You think about that, my lads,’ said the host, distributing a series of + smiling nods about him. ‘Old Jack Jervase’s day is over, or he’d be at it + again, and so I tell you. It’s many and many a year now since I heard a + shot fired in anger, or since I stood on a ship’s deck. But I’ve got the + heart for the work still, if I haven’t got the figger. Heigh-ho,’ he went + on, with a regretful moan, ‘there’s no room for a pottle-bellied, + bald-headed old coot like me atween the decks of a man o’ war. But if I + was five-and-twenty years younger, why, God bless my soul, I shouldn’t + hesitate a minute!’ + </p> + <p> + The woman he had despatched immediately upon his entrance returned at this + instant and coughed behind her hand to indicate her presence. + </p> + <p> + ‘All ready, Mary?’ said Mr. Jervase in a ringing and cheery voice. ‘That’s + well. Don’t forget what I’ve told you, lads: fine young chaps like you + ought not to desert their Queen and country in the hour of need. I’ll keep + my promise. Any one of you as takes the sergeant’s shilling can claim a + pound for bounty money from old Jack Jervase.’ + </p> + <p> + So saying, he rolled, with a nautical gait, towards the door by which the + domestic had re-entered the room, and having reached the stairfoot, and + finding himself alone, he added, with a sudden snarl, ‘I’d like to give + three of ye a chance of earning a wooden leg anyhow—coming into my + house and guzzling my best beer the very minute my back’s turned on ye.’ + </p> + <p> + He found a cheerful fire blazing in his own room, and dry clothing laid + out before it. He began to undress, casting his coat into one corner of + the room, with a gesture of exasperation, and his waistcoat into another. + He tugged at his bootlaces angrily, muttering to himself meanwhile mere + scraps of speech in which the words ‘beer,’ and ‘waste,’ and ‘guzzling + beasts,’ were audible. When he had stripped completely, he gave himself a + lusty towelling from head to foot, and then struggled into the warm, dry + raiment prepared for him. As at the completion of his toilet he stood with + a pair of stiff military brushes working at his hair and whiskers, before + a big cheval glass, he looked eminently British for his day. The style is + a little changing now, but the thick-set sturdy figure, the full paunch, + the blunt scowling features, the cold grey eyes, the double chin, the firm + yet sensual mouth, were all expressive of his type. The suit of pilot + cloth into which he had changed gave him something of a seafaring look; + but the high white collar, the shining black satin stock, the heavy gold + chain which trailed across his waistcoat, and the clean-trimmed hirsute + mutton-chop on either side the heavy jowl combined to make him intensely + respectable to look at. He thrust his feet into a pair of wool-lined + slippers, which he had left toasting till the last moment before the fire, + and took his way downstairs, and along the passage which traversed the + whole side of the house. His face was drawn into a heavy frown as he + thrust open the door he came to, and he entered the room with a cough of + magisterial importance. A tall, gaunt man, with stooping shoulders, rose + to meet him, and the expression of Mr. Jervase’s face changed as if by + magic. Something of such a change had taken place between his looking in + on the rustics assembled round his kitchen fire and his appearance amongst + them. But now it was even swifter, and more pronounced. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, General Boswell!’ he cried. ‘This is indeed an unexpected honour. + I’m proud to see you, sir, beneath my ‘umble roof. Jack Jervase wasn’t a + very distinguished servant of Her Majesty. He never held the Queen’s + commission, sir; but he fowt beneath his country’s flag, and he’ll always + feel it an honour to welcome a superior officer of the sister arm.’ + </p> + <p> + He said this with a laugh, and a roll of the head, as if to carry off by + his own geniality any sense of presumption which might appear to lurk + within his speech, and he bent low over the hand which was proffered to + him. + </p> + <p> + The visitor’s type was as pronouncedly English as John Jervase’s own, and + yet it could hardly have differed further from it if the two men had been + inhabitants of planets strange to one another. John Jervase was British <i>bourgeois</i> + from head to foot, and the General from crown to sole was an aristocrat. + His very figure told the observer that, and the manly aquiline features + and the mild, yet searching blue eye had never left an instant’s doubt + about it in the mind of any man. He was some six feet four in stature, and + the slight stoop which sat upon his shoulders looked somehow as if it had + been brought about by the innate courtesy of a man who could not refrain + from bending to people of inferior stature. It scarcely detracted from the + military character of his carriage, and, indeed, the General could stand + up straight enough when he chose, as divers of the old incorrigibles who + had been under his command in many climates knew full well. It was always + a bad sign to one of these when he saw the General square his shoulders: + and if, in addition to this, both hands were sent at the same time to + twist the ends of the great drooping grey moustache, the old offender knew + that his plight was serious indeed. Yet, for a grizzled old campaigner, + who was now growing nigh to three score years, the General was + marvellously mild and sweet in manner. His features, to be sure, were + high, and in some of their signs a little harsh; but his mouth was very + gentle in expression, and the large yet deepset eyes beamed with a kind + simplicity. It was a common saying in his fighting days that Boswell’s men + would have followed him into hell. But children trusted and loved him at + sight; and it was a pretty picture sometimes in his social hours to see + him as the centre of a bevy of young girls—over whom he always + seemed to exercise a perfectly unconscious fascination. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ve been to town, Jervase, I understand,’ said the General, ‘What’s + the news there?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The news, sir,’ said Mr. Jervase. ‘The news, sir, has come at last, and + by this time I suppose Her Majesty’s forces have got their marching + orders.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you mean it’s war, Jervase?’ cried the General. + </p> + <p> + ‘I mean it’s war, sir,’ Jervase answered. ‘The latest news, before I came + away, was that the Queen had sent a message to Parliament that + negotiations with the Czar are broken off. The message goes on to say that + Her Majesty relies upon her faithful subjects to protect the Sultan + against the encroachments of Russia.’ + </p> + <p> + His manners and his accent were alike more dignified than they had been + when he addressed the rustic crowd. It could be seen that he had one + manner for the kitchen and another for the parlour. + </p> + <p> + ‘At last!’ said the General, half under his breath. ‘At last! Well, + everybody has seen it coming, and there——’ he went on, turning + upon his heel and speaking in a raised voice, ‘there is your chance, + Polson. You’re a lucky dog, not even to have your commission from your + agent’s hands, and yet to be on the edge of the biggest campaign since + Waterloo.’ + </p> + <p> + A lad of three-and-twenty had risen from a seat in the corner of the room + at the moment of John Jervase’s entry. He had risen so hastily that he had + overturned half a set of chessmen from the board on which he had been + playing, into the lap of a pretty girl, his partner in the game; but he + had listened so intently, from the General’s first question, that he was + unconscious of that slight mishap. He walked into the broader light which + shone beneath the central lamp, and asked eagerly: + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s no mistake about that, Dad? There’s no mistake about it?’ + </p> + <p> + The speaker was Jervase’s son, as a stranger seeing them under the same + roof would have been ready to swear at sight. He was taller than his + father by a good four inches; and the family resemblance, striking as it + was, did not pierce so deep as the expression of the face. The father’s + blunt features were softened in the boy’s, and though the look of energy + was there, it was altogether lifted and spiritualised—possibly, + perhaps, by the intense feeling of the moment. + </p> + <p> + ‘And there’ll be no mistake about my commission?’ the young man asked. + ‘There’s no fear of any delay, or any official nonsense?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I sent my cheque to the agent before I left the town,’ his father + answered, ‘and I expect you’ll get your call to boot and saddle within a + day or two at the outside.’ + </p> + <p> + The pretty girl who had been playing chess with the young man in the + corner laid down the pieces which had fallen in her lap. She placed them + on the board, with a meaningless precision, and looked straight before her + with wide eyes, and a face which had slowly grown paler and more pale. + </p> + <p> + ‘Polson, my boy,’ said the General, ‘I congratulate you. You are a lucky + fellow.’ He held out his right hand, and as the young man grasped it, he + laid his left upon his shoulder. ‘They won’t keep you long at the Depot,’ + he said, ‘for a man who can shoot straight, and ride to hounds, is half a + soldier already. God bless you, my lad. You’ll do your duty well, I know.’ + </p> + <p> + There was silence in the room, and the noise of the storm outside, which + nobody had hitherto thought about, fell upon the ears of all four, as if + it had not been a familiar tone for hours, but as if it had but awakened + at that instant. They all stood listening, for by this time the girl also + had risen from her seat, and had made an indeterminate movement forward + towards the centre of the room. And out of the boom and thunder of the + storm there suddenly came a wild clatter of horses’ feet, and a heavy gate + was heard to fall back upon its fastening. An instant later there was a + mad tugging at the front door bell, and an insaner clatter at the knocker. + Jervase himself rushed to answer this sudden and unexpected summons, and + opening the door unguardedly, was blown back into the hall, from the walls + of which every hanging picture and every garment were swept by the + incoming blast, like leaves. It sounded as if the house were coming down. + </p> + <p> + A drenched, bareheaded figure staggered into the hall, wind-driven, and + would have fallen had not Jervase clutched at it. The newcomer and the + master of the house held on to each other, and Jervase panted hoarsely: + </p> + <p> + ‘You? What’s the matter?’ ‘The matter?’ said the new arrival. ‘The + matter’s ruin!’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The clatter of the tumbling objects in the hall brought out the General + and Jack Jervase’s son. The girl peered with a whiter face than ever from + the parlour doorway, and a fourth auditor came upon the scene in the + person of an elderly woman in black satin and old lace, who rushed into + the hall with frightened eyes and upraised hands, in time to hear the + question and the answer. + </p> + <p> + To make clear what the question and the answer meant to the four people + who heard them, I must go back a step. + </p> + <p> + Jack Jervase ran away from home when the nineteenth century was in its + teens. He had left behind him a harum-scarum reputation, and, save for his + father and mother, but a solitary relative of his own name. When he came + back, with coin in pouch, and the story of a life of strange adventure + behind him, the old folks had been dead a dozen years, and the solitary + cousin, whom he had always derided as a pious sneak, had so far prospered + in the world’s affairs that he had left the old-fashioned conventicle in + which he had had his spiritual upbringing, and had become a pillar of the + Established Church. The cousin had been christened Jacob and Noakes; but + he had embroidered himself into James Knock Jervoyce; the Knocks being a + family of some distinction in his neighbourhood, and the name Jervoyce + having, to his fancy, a Norman-French sort of aspect which seemed to lift + its bearer to a superior social height. James had many irons in the fire, + and seemed to be prosperously busy at the commercial anvil all day long. + Amongst the business enterprises he had in hand, there was but one which + at any time had appeared to yield him no return for his labours. He had + lent money on the strength of the security afforded by a brine pit in the + neighbourhood of Droitwich; and his creditor having failed in the + stipulated payments, James had foreclosed upon this property and had + undertaken to work it for himself. He found this enterprise a failure, but + since he could induce nobody to take it off his hands, he worked the + property for what it was worth from time to time. There were seasons in + which the pit was almost dry, and when it was impossible to work it at a + profit. There were other seasons when the underground sources treated him + more favourably. A more decided man than Mr. Knock Jervoyce would probably + have decided to abandon the property altogether, and to let one loss stand + for everything. There was a considerable cost incurred in the upkeep of + machinery which was much oftener idle than engaged; and the occasional + employment of the plant was, of course, on the average much more expensive + than its constant use would have been. James was on the point, after two + or three years of indecision, of relinquishing the working altogether, + when Cousin John came home. There was a conference between the two, and + following on that conference a very strange thing happened. The worthless + mine became a property, and one of the best of its kind in England. Five + men knew how this result was brought about, and three of them had been for + a good many years in the enjoyment of a pension—one in Australia, + one in Canada, and one in the United States. These pensions were paid by + Cousins John and James, and paid by no means willingly. Not to boggle at + this matter, the two cousins, at John’s instigation, had contrived a + simple villainy. Very near to the unproductive salt pit was a noble + property of the same kind, and John’s device had been to tap the wealthy + neighbour’s store by running a little adit from the worthless shaft into + the rich one. It was not an unheard-of thing for the value of such + properties to fluctuate. A rich mine would pay out, and a poor one at a + distance would become suddenly enriched; and these changes were, no doubt + rightly, in the common instance attributed to the capricious operations of + Nature. If the owner of the tapped sources of the cousins’ wealth + suspected anything to begin with nobody ever knew. The only fact with + which we need concern ourselves is that the fraud went on without exposure + for many years, and that James and John alike grew fat on it. + </p> + <p> + A certain hulking ruffian, with an Australian digger’s beard, had turned + up of late to disturb the tranquillity of the partners. He had been asking + what they regarded as an exorbitant price for his silence in respect to + the construction of that adit which has just been mentioned, and had been + fobbed off from time to time with five or ten pounds, as the case might + be, and with promises of more. Young Polson Jervase had caught this person + slinking about the house on the Beacon Hill in what looked to him like a + suspicious fashion, and an interview between the two had resulted in a + stand-up fight in which the blackmailer had got very much the worst of it. + But as he rose from the last round, and spat out the fragments of one or + two broken teeth, he said things which filled the honourable and manly + spirit of young Jervase with a terror to which he hardly dared to give a + name. The terror would have named itself loudly enough if he had dared but + to let it; but next to being an honourable man himself, the young fellow + wanted to believe that he came of honest people, and the rascal’s threats + and innuendoes had left him with a dreadful doubt upon his mind. + </p> + <p> + The combat had taken place at the very gate of the grey-stone house, and + the old lady in the black satin and the costly yellow lace had flown out + at the finish of it in time to hear the threats and innuendoes which had + brought such trouble to her boy. It was a hundred to one that young Polson + Jervase would have been less disturbed if his mother, hearing these + things, had not fallen to trembling and weeping and wringing her hands; + for he argued, naturally, that she would not have been so dreadfully upset + if she had not feared at least that there was some ground for the words + which had been spoken in her hearing. + </p> + <p> + General Boswell had his concern in the matter, also. He was an admirable + soldier, but a wretched man of business; and his monetary affairs had + never prospered until he had entrusted them to the hands of the cousins + Jervase & Jervoyce. Little by little he had been drawn on until the + greater part of his investments lay at their control. + </p> + <p> + And now for the pretty girl who is staring with so alarmed and white a + visage on the tumult of the hall. This is General Boswell’s daughter, sole + child of a late marriage, and the apple of his eye. She has been wandering + quite consciously towards an engagement with young Polson; and expects + him, with excellent reason, to declare himself at almost any hour. She + knows of her father’s association with Jervase & Jervoyce, and, + indeed, it has been a familiar thing to her ever since she came to be of + an age to understand. + </p> + <p> + Thus the brief and terrible colloquy between the cousins translates itself + variously for every listener. + </p> + <p> + To John Jervase it cries out of guilt detected. + </p> + <p> + To Polson Jervase it speaks of half-a-dozen things at once; it awakes with + a crushing sense of certainty that late suspicion; it tells him of the + ruin of the one man whom he most loves and honours in this narrow world—not + his father, but the grey old father of his sweetheart; it tells him in an + instant of a life of narrow means for the girl he loves; it hurls his own + hopes in the mire, and makes the very thought of them a dishonour; it + snatches from him the bright prospect of the career on which he has set + his heart, the gate to which stood wide open but a moment earlier. And all + this in the tick of a watch, in the space of time filled by one agonised + beat of the heart. + </p> + <p> + For the girl, whatever it may mean hereafter, it means for the moment + nothing more than a confused leaping of two thoughts in one. Her mind is + conscious only of a mingled cry of ‘Polson!’ and of ‘Father!’ + </p> + <p> + So Guilt stares at Guilt, and Terror and Suspicion stare at both of them; + and the roaring wind and lashing rain make exclamation dumb. + </p> + <p> + Jervase was the first to recover himself. He thrust his cousin on one + side, and butted towards the open door; but he strove in vain to close it, + until his son and the General lent their aid. The hall was sown with + broken glass and fragments of picture frames, and here and there an + engraving lay wet and crumpled, but not even the housewife regarded these + things for the time being. + </p> + <p> + John Jervase turned from the final struggle with the door, and looked + about him. His face had lost its ruddy tint. His eyes stared, his mouth + twitched, and his lips were of the colour of lead. The swaggering + jocundity of his manner had all gone. The very stature of the man seemed + changed, and the square width of his shoulders was shrunk and rounded. He + moistened his leaden lips three times with his tongue, and each time tried + to speak in vain. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come in,’ he said at last, in a harsh and rasping voice. And they all + moved automatically into the parlour, he leading them. + </p> + <p> + They grouped there at the end of the centre table, and the instinct of the + trembling housewife so far awoke within her that she closed the door, lest + the servants and hangers-on about the house should hear what she knew was + coming. + </p> + <p> + James Jervoyce, a mean-statured man, of meaner feature, with his hair + plastered about his forehead by the rain, and the water dripping from his + cape, stood as the centre of all eyes. His face was of the hue of grey + paper, and he gasped for breath, and trembled. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pol,’ said John Jervase, waving his right hand blindly, ‘give me—give + me the decanter and a tumbler.’ + </p> + <p> + Both lay near at hand, and Jervase, having primed himself with a great + gulp of neat brandy, spoke again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, James,’ he asked, ‘what’s the matter? What do you mean by coming + here to scare a peaceful house in this wild fashion?’ + </p> + <p> + The accent was the accent of his youth, the broadest speech of the Castle + Barfield region. James seemed incapable of answer, and his cousin, laying + a hand anew upon the decanter, filled the glass almost to the brim, and + held it out to him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Get a heart into you,’ he said gruffly, ‘and speak out!’ + </p> + <p> + The timider of the guilty pair drank unwarily, not knowing what was + offered to him, and fell into a fit of coughing. The rest awaited him in a + tense expectation. At last he controlled himself, and spoke, sipping from + time to time to moisten his dry lips. + </p> + <p> + ‘You know,’ he said, glancing at the floor and at the faces round him + alternately, ‘you know that when old General Airey died, that young cub De + Blacquaire came into the Droitwich property.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said John Jervase, ‘we know that. Go on. What about it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You know,’ said James, ‘that his property and ours neighboured each + other. The young skunk has trumped up a charge against us of having tapped + his brine, and having lived on the property of his estate for twenty years + past.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said—John Jervase, ‘that’s a pretty cool piece of impudence, + to be sure! But what is there to make a howl about?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He has got some suborned evidence from somewhere,’ James answered, ‘some + scoundrels who pretend that they were employed by you and me to do the + work.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said John once more, ‘what is there in that to make a howl about? + Is there no law in England—is there no way of making a fool and a + knave smart for it, if they see fit to assail the reputation of two honest + men like you and me, James? ‘His voice began to take something of its old + ring. ‘I wonder at you—tearin’ up like a madman at this time o’ + night, and in this weather, with a yam like that. Why, man, what’s come to + you? Missus,’ he turned towards his wife, ‘tell one of the wenches to get + James a change, and when he’s done that well sit down in quiet, and talk + this matter over.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘De Blacquaire!’ he went on, as his wife left the room to obey his order. + ‘De Blacquaire, indeed! Who’s De Blacquaire? + </p> + <p> + It’ll go pretty hard with you and me, James, if we can’t put down a pound + between us where he can put down twenty shillings. And libel’s libel in + this country, James, and them as chooses to talk it can be made to pay for + it And any man as assaults the honest fame of Jack Jervase has got Jack + Jervase to tackle, my lad. I’ve fowt the Queen’s enemies, and I’ve fowt my + own, and I’ll stand fightin’ till I die.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear Jervase,’ said the General. ‘My dear Mr. James! I need not tell + you, I am sure, how entirely certain I am that a very grievous error has + been made in this matter. But I can’t understand—I really cannot + understand—why an absurd charge of that sort should be at all + disturbing to you.’ He turned upon Mr. James with an air of mild + remonstrance, and laid a friendly hand upon his shoulder. ‘Really, really, + really,’ he said, ‘I thought you had more courage.’ + </p> + <p> + Mr. James was for the moment entirely deprived of that most useful + quality. What with the chill which was coming upon him after a hasty and + dangerous ride in that pelting rain and bitter wind through which he had + travelled, and what with the perturbation of his spirit, he trembled like + a shaken jelly, and his eyes were full of terror. John Jervase, obviously + with the intent to make a diversion, turned upon him with a question. + </p> + <p> + ‘Didn’t you come on horseback? ‘he asked. His cousin stared at him with an + idiotic want of apprehension of the question’s meaning. ‘Didn’t you come + on horseback?’ Jervase asked more loudly than before. + </p> + <p> + ‘I—I suppose so,’ stammered James. + </p> + <p> + ‘Suppose so! ‘his cousin snarled at him, laying an unfriendly hand upon + him and jolting him roughly to and fro. ‘You came on a horse, didn’t you? + And if you didn’t, how the devil did you get here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, yes, John,’ the trembling rascal answered. ‘I came on horseback, to + be sure—of course I came on horseback. How else,’ he asked feebly, + ‘could I have got here on a night like this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then where’s the horse? ‘Jervase demanded. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said James. ‘He has been here before, he knows his way to + the stables. I—I heard him clattering off in that direction, I am + almost sure.’ He made a pitiable attempt to collect himself, and prattled + on. ‘Oh, yes, I am quite sure now—he clattered off towards the + stables—I remember—he has been here before, and he would know + his way. He’s in the grounds in any case, for I know that the gate closed + behind him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why didn’t you stop for half a minute, anyhow? ‘asked Jervase, who was + glad of a chance to recover a seeming of composure for himself under the + shelter of a pretended anger. ‘Why didn’t you give somebody the word in + place of leaving a valuable beast like that wandering about in a tempest? + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ James answered, as feebly as ever. ‘I was in a hurry to + get in.’ + </p> + <p> + At this his cousin’s temper broke altogether, or he was willing to relieve + the tension of his own mind by allowing it to seem as if it did so. + </p> + <p> + ‘Of all the funking, skunking, silly cowardly devils——’ + </p> + <p> + The General took him by the arm with a commanding grip. + </p> + <p> + ‘You forget, my good Jervase, you forget—my daughter is present, and + she is not accustomed to have her ears assailed by that sort of language.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your pardon,’ said Jervase, suddenly cooling down. ‘I beg ten + thousand pardons—I beg Miss Irene’s pardon most of all. I forgot + myself, and I apologise.’ + </p> + <p> + He bowed to the girl and fell to pacing up and down the room, casting + glances of wrath at the messenger of ill news. + </p> + <p> + The General, fearing a new outburst, turned to the old lady with his + courtliest air. + </p> + <p> + ‘We are all a little agitated for the moment by the strange tidings Mr. + Jervoyce has brought us, and they involve some matters of business about + which it will be better for us to hold a consultation between ourselves. + Will you be so very kind as to take Irene elsewhere for a little while? + ‘His voice and manner were perfectly composed, and his face lit up with + one of his rare sweet smiles as he added: ‘I do not believe, my dear Mrs. + Jervase, that I have ever, in the whole course of my three-score years, so + far transgressed as to drive a lady from her own parlour, until now.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We will go,’ said Mrs. Jervase, and the General stepping to the door + threw it open, and stood for his hostess and his daughter to go by. Irene + looked first at young Polson Jervase with a glance of fear and inquiry, + and the young fellow responded to it only by a curt nod of the head, as + much as to say ‘Go! ‘She looked into her father’s face as she passed + through the doorway, and the old man smiled down on her reassuringly. + </p> + <p> + ‘This will all be over in a few minutes, dear,’ he said, ‘and then I will + send for you.’ He closed the door gently, and tinned to face the trio in + the room. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have apologised to the ladies,’ said Jervase, ‘already; but I owe an + apology to you, General. I’m very sorry that my temper carried me back to + my old seafaring manners; but,’ with a savage look at his cousin, ‘a + coward’s my loathing. I hate the sight of a coward worse than I hate the + smell of a rotten egg.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let us try to understand things,’ said the General. ‘Mr. James has + brought his tidings in such a manner that they are evidently very serious + to his mind. Had he brought them coolly I should have smiled at them. As + it is, I think we must come to an explanation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly, General,’ Jervase answered. ‘Let us come to an explanation. + Get on, James. Who’s this suborned rascal you have been telling us about?’ + </p> + <p> + James began to pull off his dripping overcoat, which by this time had left + a little pond of water on the carpet round about him, and to fumble in the + inner breast pocket of it. ‘There are three of them,’ he answered, and for + a while he said no more. The General looked from him to John Jervase, and + back again, and if his face were at all an index to his mind, he saw + something which did not please him. His stooping shoulders straightened, + and one hand went up to stroke the grey moustache. His brows straightened, + his mild grey-blue eye grew stern, and his mouth was ruled into a straight + line. The fact was that the General had had an almost lifelong experience + in the great art of reading men, and though he had preserved a child-like + simplicity in his dealings with the world, the fact was due a thousand + times more to the charity of his heart than to any want of penetration. He + was one of those who suspect nothing until suspicion is actually shaken + awake, and who then see with a piercing clearness signs which would escape + many who pride themselves upon their shrewdness. And when James Jervoyce + faltered out the words, ‘There are three of them! ‘John Jervase gave a + start and a look which indicated an instant understanding. + </p> + <p> + ‘He knows those three,’ said General Boswell to himself. + </p> + <p> + ‘De Blacquaire’s lawyer gave me their names to-day,’ said Jervoyce, who + had by this time found what he had been fumbling for in the pocket of his + overcoat. ‘Here they are.’ + </p> + <p> + He reached out a crumpled piece of paper to his cousin, who took it from + him, and, after a single glance at it, started again, and, pale as he was + already, grew still paler. + </p> + <p> + ‘He knows those three,’ said the General, voicelessly, and without a + spoken word reached forward and took the crumpled page from Jervase’s + unresisting hand. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + There was what seemed like a long silence, though in reality it endured + only for a few seconds, whilst General Boswell searched for his + gold-rimmed reading glasses, and balanced them on the bridge of that high + Quixote nose. By and by, he began to read with great slowness and + deliberation, pausing at every other instant to direct a look of calm + inspection from John to James, and back again. ‘William Ford,’ he read, + Ninth Avenue, Freemans Town, Ontario.’ He paused after the name of the man—he + paused after the name of the street—he paused after the name of the + town, and he paused again when he had completed the reading of the + address. The last pause was longer than the others had been, and he + resumed his reading like a man of ice. ‘William Buckle, Lafayetteville, + Pennsylvania, U.S.A. George Lightfoot, late of Melbourne, now in England.’ + </p> + <p> + He laid the paper down upon the table with a firm hand, and with a slight + shake of the head threw the glasses from their place. ‘Do you know these + men?’ he asked, directing his inquiry to Jervoyce. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ he said, ‘I never heard of any one of ‘em.’ His shifty eye tried in + vain to meet his questioner’s, and he began to fumble nervously with other + papers which he had drawn from his pocket in his search for the first. + </p> + <p> + ‘It needs no penetration to discover that this man is lying,’ said the + General to himself. He addressed his question to John Jervase, who made + shift somehow to meet his look. ‘Do you know these men?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ John answered, ‘I never heard of one of them. It’s a conspiracy,’ he + cried, suddenly, ‘that’s what it is! It’s a conspiracy! Quit shaking, you + wretched coward! Stand up and fight this infernal libel like a man. Ain’t + there two of us? If this wicked charge is brought against James Knock + Jervoyce, ain’t it brought as well against Jack Jervase, his cousin and + his partner? Look at me! You don’t see me shivering and shaking like a + frightened rabbit with a weasel after him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah! ‘cried James, in a weak exasperation, ‘it all very well for you. It + might mean loss of money to you at the worst; but I’m the man they’re + going for.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh,’ said John, ‘you are, are you? And why’s that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stubbs told me this afternoon,’ said James, c that he could smash me + dead, but so far he has no particle of evidence against you.’ + </p> + <p> + A light sprang into the burly scoundrel’s eyes. He veiled it in an + instant, but not before two of the quartette there present had read it. + The boy turned away, groaning, and the General looked after him with a + face from which all sternness disappeared for a moment. + </p> + <p> + ‘Poor lad! ‘he said, within doors. ‘Poor lad!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, look here,’ said John Jervase, ‘they haven’t got any evidence agen + you any more than they have agen me. The whole thing’s a put-up job. If it + was De Blacquaire’s doing, he’d have gone for me rather than for you, + because he always hated me, and I’ve put him down more than once or twice + at Petty Sessions, and taught him to know his place. But De Blacquaire’s + an officer and a gentleman’—he made a burly bow towards the General—’ + and I don’t suppose for a minute that he’d be guilty even of dreaming of + such a piece of rascality as this. It’s much more likely to be some + pettifogging lawyer’s game—some sneaking rogue that’s got these + fellow-rascals round him, with an idea of doing a little bit of blackmail. + Stubbs is a decent fellow—for a lawyer. I don’t think Stubbs would + have a finger in that sort of pie, any more than his master. But Stubbs + has been got at; that’s how it’ll turn out, you bet. Keep your pecker up, + James,’ he added, in a tone which the patron and the bully spoke at once. + ‘Well take care of you. Just you trust to old Jack Jervase—that’s + your game, my lad. He’ll fight the battle for the pair of us.’ + </p> + <p> + Between his pretence of having thought the matter out impartially, and his + other pretence of encouraging his timid relative, he had talked himself + back into something like his common aspect, and his common manner; and + there was a little of the nautical swagger in the few steps he took + towards the table, where he applied himself again to the decanter. + </p> + <p> + Just then a knock sounded at the door, and the voice of the domestic from + the kitchen was heard saying that Mr. James’s change of clothes was ready + for him in the master’s bedroom. + </p> + <p> + ‘You know your way, James,’ said Jervase. ‘You’d better get into dry + toggery at once. The missus will have a bedroom ready for you in half an + hour. Meanwhile, you go and change; and when you come back we’ll forget + this nonsense over a bowl of punch. We’ve both had a drenching this wild + night, and we shall neither of us be the worse for a good Captain’s nip.’ + </p> + <p> + James stole furtively away, making himself as small as possible, and the + General’s eye followed him to the door. + </p> + <p> + ‘Jervase,’ said the General, with a suspicion of satire in his voice, + ‘your cousin seems to take this ridiculous matter rather seriously.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know why he should, sir,’ Jervase answered. ‘He’s had an honest + reputation all his life. Now what is there in this,’ he went on, taking up + the scrap of writing the General had laid upon the table, ‘what is there + in this to frighten anybody? Who’s William Ford, of Ontario, for instance? + William Buckle, U.S.A.—who’s he? And what’s this other fellow’s name—George + Lightfoot, late of Melbourne, now in England——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why!’ cried Polson, suddenly, ‘that’s the very blackguard I——’ + </p> + <p> + He paused suddenly, and turned with a gesture of dismay. He had given + himself no time to calculate the significance of the words he had used, + and they were no sooner spoken than he knew intuitively that he had at + least in part betrayed his father. A lad of a more honest impulse and + conduct could not have been found in all England; but even if his father + were a rogue—and the belief that he was nothing short of that had + already shocked him to the heart—it was not a son’s business to + betray him. It was the son’s concern to suffer his own share of shame, if + shame should come, and to preserve a front of unshaken confidence. Polson + was frozen at his own indiscretion. + </p> + <p> + ‘That is the blackguard,’ said the General, with a certain silky quiet + which had in his time grown to be very terrible to people who had come to + understand its meaning, ‘that is the blackguard, Polson? Be good enough to + enlighten us a little further. You have some acquaintance with Lightfoot, + late of Melbourne, now in England, though your father has no knowledge of + him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What do you know about any fellow of that name?’ Jervase asked + wrathfully. ‘What bee have you got in your bonnet?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Let us see the bee, Polson, let us see the bee.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, sir,’ said Polson, turning with outspread hands of appeal, ‘it comes + to nothing. It happened a week or two ago that I found a hulking fellow + with a digger’s beard and a red shirt—one of those chaps we’ve seen + lately back from Ballarat and Geelong—skulking about outside the + gate. I asked him what he wanted, and he was drunk and abusive, and—well, + I had to give him a hiding.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said the General, ‘you had to give him a hiding. Why?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve told you, sir,’ Polson stammered. ‘The fellow was drunk, and—when + I ordered him away, he got so beastly cheeky that I had to go for him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Before this happened,’ said the General, somewhat drawling on the words, + ‘you exchanged cards and confidences?’ Polson stretched out his hands + again in appeal, and the General, looking at him with a countenance + impassive as the Sphinx, felt a pang of pity in his heart, for the lad was + a good lad, and the old warrior knew it, and he had been near to loving + him, this past half-dozen years. And the boy was not merely pale with the + suffering of his mind, but his very eyes had lost their colour, as a man’s + eyes do when he has received a shot in battle. The General knew that look, + and had seen it in the eyes of dying comrades. It touched him nearly, but + he gave no sign. ‘Why did the man tell you his name, and that he came from + Melbourne?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He said,’ Polson returned, desperately, ‘that he wanted to see Mr. + Jervase, and that he meant to see him. He said my father would wish + anybody in hell who tried to hide him. That’s all, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you, Jervase,’ said the General, ‘never heard of this man?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Never in my life,’ Jervase answered bluntly. ‘The world’s gone mad, I + fancy. Everybody’s making a fuss about a thing that’ll be forgotten in a + week’s time. Why didn’t you,’ he continued, turning sternly upon Polson, + ‘why didn’t you tell me about this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A man can’t make a shindy about it every time he has a turn-up with a + tramp,’ Polson answered. ‘I didn’t think it worth while to talk about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Polson,’ said the General, ‘I’ve known you since you were no higher than + my knee, and I’ve never had a shadow of a reason to doubt your word. I + don’t want you to turn informer and I shan’t ask you another question. You + had better leave your father and myself to talk this out together.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, sir,’ said Polson, ‘there’s trouble in the house, and I’m going to + stay here, unless I get my father’s orders to go away.’ + </p> + <p> + Now John Jervase was undoubtedly a good deal of a rogue, but no man is all + of a piece, and he had one or two good characteristics. Amongst them was a + true and deep affection for his only son, and if at the beginning of his + career he had had any such hope of honour and credit as his son had bidden + fair to bring him as he neared the close of it, he would have made a + better man. Polson’s quietly expressed resolve pinched him a little + inwardly, and he gave the boy a glance of gratitude. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t say go, lad—I say stay. I’ve honoured and respected General + Boswell since we first came to be neighbours, twenty years ago; and now I + should have a very poor eye indeed if I couldn’t see that he’s on the way + to lose his respect for me, if events don’t change his mind. But if + there’s anything to be browt against Jack Jervase, let Jack Jervase’s lad + stand by and hear it, and see how his father takes the ackisation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well, Jervase,’ said the General. ‘We will have it so. I have an + interest in this affair, and I must tell you plainly that your manner is + so very strange that I feel scarcely comfortable under it. You are a + business man, and you must not object to my using business terms. Very + nearly the whole of my fortune is invested in your hands. If your credit + is seriously shaken, and, above all, if it is shaken by such a charge as + is now being brought against the firm, my daughter and I are on the verge + of ruin. It wouldn’t greatly matter about an old campaigner like myself, + for I am not yet so far broken that I can’t still run in harness. But I + have my little girl to think of, and for her sake I am going to do my + duty, as a business man, however unpleasant it may be to me to do it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The scandal can’t touch you, sir.’ The General smiled sternly. + </p> + <p> + ‘It can’t touch me in one way, but it may break my fortune. Now answer me + this one question. What is the worth of the brine which has been pumped up + from our workings since the firm of Jervase & Jervoyce began to + prosper in that enterprise?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I can tell you that, sir, roughly, in the turn of a hand. First and last, + two hundred thousand pounds. That may be a thousand wrong on one side or + the other—it may even be five thousand wrong on the one side or the + other—but I’ll guarantee that it’s not more than that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So that if this claim, whether by fair means or by foul, could be + established, the firm could be made responsible in a Civil Court for that + sum.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Exactly, sir. The case being established, the firm would be responsible + for every penny.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And for how large a share,’ the General asked, ‘am I personally + responsible?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Each member of the firm,’ Jervase answered, ‘is responsible in his own + person for the whole amount. There’s no limitation of liability.’ + </p> + <p> + The conversation was marked by less excitement than it had been on the one + side, and by a more business-like manner on the other. + </p> + <p> + ‘You needn’t fear, sir,’ said Jervase. ‘James and I are good to meet the + whole of the obligations, and, apart from that, these fellows who are + being brought up against us are the very scum of the earth. I don’t + suppose that any Court of Law would listen to them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No?’ asked the General, with sudden keenness. ‘And why are they the very + scum of the earth? You don’t know the men?’ + </p> + <p> + Jervase was visibly disconcerted. He stammered as he answered: + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what else but the scum of the earth can they be, to have trumped up + a lying case like this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘’Mph!’ said the General. ‘Be that as it may, as a partner in this + concern, I may conceivably be made liable for two hundred thousand + pounds?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the law, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That being so, I must take this business into my own hands. Until I am + legally advised to a contrary action I shall take no step without + informing you of it. But the thing is too serious to be neglected, and I + have little liking for your way of meeting it, Jervase, though I like your + cousin’s less.’ + </p> + <p> + After this declaration, there was silence for the space of a full minute, + and then James came back, his slight figure absurdly costumed in his + cousin’s clothes, which were too long for him in the arm, too short in the + leg, and too full everywhere. + </p> + <p> + ‘Your cousin and I, Mr. Jervoyce,’ said the General, ‘have arrived at a + partial understanding, and I must make the position clear as between you + and myself. When did you first hear of this accusation?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘To-day,’ said James. ‘Never a word until to-day.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘When did you hear of this man Light-foot, late of Melbourne, and now in + England?’ James cast a piteously beseeching eye towards Jervase, and the + General held out a hand towards the latter as if to interdict the speaking + of a word. He repeated his question. ‘When did you first hear of the man + Lightfoot, late of Melbourne? Now, come, sir,’ the General cried, in a + voice of command, ‘you are here to answer that question on your own + responsibility. You don’t choose to answer? Now, the story is that these + men have been blackmailing you. Assuming that story to be true, they have + been paid, and it is evident that there must be some means of discovering + the channel through which payments have been made. Are you prepared to + submit to an examination of your books?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am,’ said John Jervase, ‘willingly, at any moment.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You!’ cried James. + </p> + <p> + ‘And not you?’ said the General. ‘Well, that simplifies matters.’ + </p> + <p> + The wretched James had all but surrendered himself to fate a quarter of an + hour before, and now, seeing that he had betrayed himself, he cast the + case up altogether, and, throwing both arms upon the table, fell on his + knees beside it, dropped his face upon his hands, and began to whimper. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wait a bit, sir,’ cried John Jervase. ‘Now just wait one minute and I’ll + put the case before you. Here are the facts. I should be obliged if you + would take a seat, sir, and allow me to do the same.’ He moved a chair + towards the table with great deliberation, sat down leisurely, reached out + for the decanter, filled his glass, emptied it and set it down—all + with a certain look of weighty purpose. ‘I’m going to make a clean breast + of it, sir. I should leave James to do it if he was capable of doing + anything but whimper like a kicked charity boy. It’s a bit to my discredit + to speak the plain truth, because I’ve got to admit that I have certainly + made an effort to deceive you. That isn’t creditable, and it goes again + the grain to admit it. I said I didn’t know this fellow Lightfoot. That + was a lie. I know him well. I told the lie to shelter James.’ + </p> + <p> + James lifted a beslobbered face, stared at the speaker for a single + instant, and then allowed his head to fall upon his hands again. + </p> + <p> + ‘I did it to shelter James,’ Jervase repeated, and as he spoke he dealt + his cousin a sharp kick beneath the table, as if to bespeak that worthy + gentleman’s particular attention. ‘James, to tell the truth about him, + since it must be told, has always had two sides to him. He was a solid + chapel-goer till he was thirty, and he was a deacon or an elder, or + something of that sort; but he always had some little game on on the sly, + and he always succeeded in keeping his Piccadillies pretty quiet. When he + began to make money, he went over to the Church and took the plate round + at collecting time, and got to be a sidesman, and a trustee, and I don’t + know what all. He never married, but he’s never been without a quiet + little home of his own, with a lady at the head of the table—have + ye, James?’ + </p> + <p> + James groaned, but made no verbal answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now this loafer of a Lightfoot had a sister, and in respect of her, + there’s no doubt about it that something discreditable might have been + laid to James. For once in his life, he acted like a fool, and he wrote + the girl a pile of letters. This fellow Lightfoot got hold of ‘em, and + he’s made James pay through the nose ever since. Now the girl’s dead, and + the thing’s so old, James has refused to keep this lazy beggar in his + idleness and his dissipations any longer. The fellow’s tried to frighten + him with the letters, and, failing in that, he’s worked up this lie + against the firm, has got two more blackguards to swear to it, seemingly, + and there’s the whole truth about the matter. I suppose they’ve got up + some sort of a case, or Stubbs wouldn’t be looking at it. But we shall + blow it all to smithereens when we get them in the witness box. Now, + that’s the whole of the matter. Speak for yourself, James—make a + clean breast of it. Isn’t that the truth? I haven’t exaggerated your + iniquities, and you may just as well own up to ‘em.’ + </p> + <p> + He kicked his cousin a second time again by way of warning, and James + looked up for a second time, and being fortified by the expression of his + cousin’s face, he spoke. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s horribly humiliating to have those things said,’ he gasped. ‘But + that is the truth about the whole transaction, General. God forgive me—it’s + many years ago. But that’s the miserable truth.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I think,’ said the General, rising from the seat he had taken at his + host’s invitation, ‘that it is time for me to go home.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You can’t do that, sir,’ cried Polson. ‘It’s impossible. The weather is + worse than ever. Think of Irene going out in such a storm as this! You + were weatherbound here hours ago, and listen to it now. No carriage could + live on the hillside to-night.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is probably true,’ said the General with great dryness. ‘And since I + am forced to intrude myself upon your hospitalities, I will ask you, + Polson, to be good enough to show me to my room.’ + </p> + <p> + He walked from the apartment without further speech, Polson following him; + and when the sound of footsteps in the passage had died, John Jervase rose + and closed the door. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, James,’ he said with a grating laugh, ‘that cock didn’t fight + anyhow.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + The oil-lamp which hung in the hall was flickering uncertainly as Polson + and the General walked towards the foot of the staircase, leaving the + passage in darkness for a second or two at a time, and then flaring up + with an unwonted brilliance. The young man took a bedroom candle from a + table at the stairfoot, lit it, and motioned the General to precede him. + He, altogether military in gait, with his shoulders squared to the utmost, + marched upstairs as if he were heading an assault by escalade. Polson + followed, drooping. + </p> + <p> + ‘This is your room, sir,’ the young man said when they came to the end of + the corridor on which they had entered. He threw open the door, and + revealed a cheerful scene. Tall wax candles flamed here and there, a great + fire burned with a steady glow on the hearth, and the rich dark maroon + curtains and hangings of the room gave it a secluded, sheltered, and + homely look which under other circumstances would have been wholly + comfortable by contrast with the elemental war outside. The General walked + into the apartment bolt upright, and Polson stood with the door handle in + his grasp, waiting to catch his eye for a single instant that he might say + good-night. The elder man wheeled suddenly. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come in!’ he said. ‘Come in and close the door.’ Polson obeyed, wondering + what was about to happen. ‘I suspect,’ Boswell began, ‘that I shall have + cause to be sorry for myself and for somebody much dearer to me than + myself before this business is over. But I am sorry for you, in the + meantime, my lad, and I want to tell you that you will have to revise your + ideas a little.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As to what, sir?’ asked Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘Unless I am very much mistaken,’ the elder went on, ‘the business which + has been sprung upon us to-night will take some time to settle, and will + make more noise in the world than either you or I will care to hear. You + can’t go into the army with this hanging over you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I had made up my mind about that already,’ said the youngster. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ the General returned, ‘it’s a bitter pill for you to swallow, and, + as I have said, I am sorry for you. It will not be easy for you to be on + terms of intimate friendship with a man who is compelled to fight your + father tooth and nail, and there is nothing else for it at this moment but + for you and me to say good-bye. Things may right themselves, but I see no + use in mincing matters, and I tell you the honest truth when I say that I + don’t believe it, and that for the moment I don’t even hope for it. There + are some men,’ he added, ‘who can’t afford to treat themselves to violent + emotions, and Mr. James Knock Jervoyce is one of them. I hope your father + may be able to clear himself of all complicity; but <i>that</i> man’s a + rascal whatever happens.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-bye, sir,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-bye,’ the General answered. He held out his hand, but Polson did not + see that friendly gesture, and he walked from the room quite broken, his + chin fallen upon his breast, and his broad shoulders rounded with + despondency. He went straight to his own room, and there also, after the + generous fashion of the countryside, a cheerful fire was burning. It had + fallen to a settled ruby glow, and though it filled the room with warmth, + it afforded but little light. Polson sat down in the shadow, and stared at + the heart of the fire. Outside, the wind howled and wailed, as if in + alternate wild triumph and wild mourning; and the rain beat upon the + window panes in driving sheets. But he heard no sound and was unconscious + of his immediate surroundings. Only two hours ago he had been sitting in + sweet nearness to the girl he loved; and he had been transcendently and + tumultuously happy. How happy he had not known until the blow came which + had dashed the structure of his life to pieces. He had always longed for a + career in the army, and the rumours of war which had flown so thickly for + the past year and a half had served naturally to set a keener edge to his + desire. A commission had not seemed a very likely thing to hope for at one + time, for in the years before the Crimean War the sons of the British + bourgeoisie were not very welcome in the British army. But as his father + had climbed hand-over-hand to wealth, and as one local honour after + another had fallen upon him, the prospect grew clearer. Now, John Jervase + for three years had held the Commission of the Peace, and had taken a part + in politics which had made him something of a figure in the district. He + was above all the poor man’s friend, and had become a great authority on + working-man economics. He had been foremost in the local movement for the + establishment of the Penny Bank, and had printed a pamphlet which somebody + else had written to his order, which had brought him into a favourable + prominence. The commission for which Polson yearned grew nearer and nearer + in prospect, and at last he had almost placed his hand upon it. Now it was + gone—gone, in all probability, beyond retrieval, and that alone + would have been enough for an average grief. Yet it was barely a tithe of + the sudden burden he had to bear. He had lost Irene, and any man who has + ever been seriously in love knows what that may mean to the heart of + three-and-twenty. And even this was not all, for he had lost his father—lost + irrevocably the bluff, outspoken, honourable man of whom, in spite of the + occasionally disturbing vulgarities of his manner, he had all his life + been proud. Confusedly and slowly the sense of all these losses surged + upon him. Now one was uppermost in his mind, and now another; but they + were always linked together in one leaden feeling of heavy misery. He sat + motionless for a full half-hour, staring at the fire. At last a single dry + sob, which shook him from head to foot, escaped him. He rose with a + bulldog shake of the head, threw back his shoulders, and walked resolutely + but slowly down the staircase. He would have it out then and there, he + declared to himself, and would come to an understanding with his father. + He would actually know the truth without disguise, and, having learned it, + would decide upon the conduct of his future life. There was no thought of + desertion in his mind, but there was a great longing to be at action, to + be striving with something for a settled purpose; and no settled purpose + was possible for him until he and his father could stand heart to heart + and face to face, with all pretence between them broken down. + </p> + <p> + The hall lamp had flickered out, as it had threatened to do, and he groped + his way in darkness, though at another moment he would have walked with + the sure foot of custom blindfold about the house. Somehow, the whole tide + of his purpose seemed suddenly to ebb. He became conscious of the night, + and stood in the dark to listen to its wild voices. There were other + voices in the air, for he could hear his father speaking in a deep, loud + hum, and Jervoyce answering from time to time in a treble like that of an + hysteric woman. He felt his way to a hall chair which had its place close + to the parlour door, and sat down there to wait until he should find his + father alone. He could hear no words from where he sat, but through all + the plangent noises of the storm he could discern anger and command in his + father’s voice, and a querulous appeal which had a note of rage in it in + the voice of his father’s companion. He paid but little heed, for his + heart was growing numbed, and no distinct thought any longer found a place + in his mind. Sitting there in the dark and the cold, he grew barely + conscious of his own pain. This is Nature’s mercy. When the wound is + beyond bearing she draws away the sufferer’s consciousness, and an + extremity of agony brings its own relief, if only for a little while. A + dull ache of respite follows the keener agonies alike of bodily and of + mental pain. So he sat there, dulled and numb and empty, and for the + moment he cared for nothing. + </p> + <p> + A gleam of light and the sound of a coming footstep awoke him to a + knowledge of his surroundings. He did not wish to be found there sitting + miserably in the dark, and he arose, and stood uncertain in what direction + to move. The light grew clearer and nearer, and as it turned the corner he + saw that it was carried by Irene. He forgot his impulse towards flight, + and stood rooted, staring as if he beheld a vision. The little figure came + forward with uncertain footsteps, one hand holding the candlestick + overhead and the other groping for the wall. The feet trod with a. harsh + sound on one or two fragments of broken glass which had escaped the + housemaid’s broom. A yearning ache filled him as the girl came nearer, for + he saw that her eyes were blind with tears. There was no distortion of the + features, save that the small mouth quivered; and the shining drops + brimmed over heavily and silently. Not a sigh escaped her, and she came on + like a figure in a dream. He moved forward involuntarily, and her name + sprang to his lips. + </p> + <p> + ‘Irene!’ + </p> + <p> + She paused and pressed her disengaged hand upon her eyes to clear them of + that bitter rain. Then she looked up at him in silence, and the big tears + began to well over, shining like diamonds as they fell to the bosom of her + dress. It was to be his last sight of her in his own home. He knew it, and + his own heart was like cold iron in his breast. She made a picture never + to be forgotten; a picture to be recalled on stormy nights at sea; in many + a lonely hour of contemplation on alien shores; in many hours of sickness + and delirium, in summer heats among the vineyards on the banks of Alma, in + winter frosts in the trenches of Sevastopol; in convalescent wanderings + amid the dumb reminders of English dead at Scutari; and later, too, in + happy hours when the storms of youth were over, and manhood’s heart had + found safe anchorage, and the dear head was touched with silver. + </p> + <p> + She stood there weeping, and he had no power to comfort her—no right + to comfort her. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-bye, Irene.’ He had the right at least to say that to the sweetheart + of his boyhood, and the chosen idol of his young manhood’s heart. ‘I have + seen your father, dear, and whatever there might have been, it’s all over. + Good-bye, and—God bless you, always. Always. Always.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have seen him, too,’ she answered, and though the tears rained down as + fast as ever, there was no break in the sweet quiet voice. ‘Good-bye. God + bless you.’ + </p> + <p> + This was all their farewell, save that when she turned away with that + uncertain groping of the hand he took it in his own and guided it to the + rail of the staircase. He watched her as she slowly mounted the stairs, + with the light of the candle falling on her hair, and turning its brown + masses to dark gold. All her figure was in shadow, and the dim gold head + seemed to float upward until it vanished at the turning of a corner, and + the feint light on the wall grew fainter. Then he heard the soft opening + of a door, and before it closed again, one sob reached his ears, and + stabbed the heart that had laid within him like cold iron; and he knew + that all her self-control had broken down. The door closed swiftly, + shutting out the last ray of light reflected from the wall, and he found + his way back to his chair, and sat there doggedly fighting with himself, + and praying for Heaven’s mercy on her, until his eyes tingled as if they + had been pricked by a needle. Whether he would have it so or no, the tears + came, and as he hid his face in his hands, they dripped between his + fingers to the floor. He was but three-and-twenty, and the first passion + of the pain of life was upon him. + </p> + <p> + The door at his side was opened stealthily, and his father spoke almost at + his ear, in a harsh whisper. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hillo! The hall’s dark. They’ve all gone to bed, I suppose. Now don’t + let’s have any more chatter. Spain’s the land for you, my lad. You’ll + start first thing tomorrow. You lie low, and leave me to work things for + the pair of us if I can. If I see that the game’s going against us I shall + follow. Good God, what’s that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am here, father,’ said Polson, rising. ‘I have been waiting to speak to + you.’ Jervase started violently at his unexpected voice, and half recoiled + into the room behind him. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re here?’ he said, advancing with clenched hands. ‘What are you doing + here? Eavesdropping?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, sir,’ said Polson more sternly than he had ever spoken in his life + till then. ‘That isn’t my line of country, and you know it. I want to + speak to you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Go to your room,’ said his father, hissing from between clenched teeth. + ‘Go to your room, sir, and be damned to you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have meant to speak to you,’ Polson answered, ‘since I had time to + think this night’s work over, and after what I heard just now, I mean it + more than ever.’ + </p> + <p> + He entered the room and his father gave way before him. He had forgotten + the evident traces of his recent tears, and stood with his eyelashes still + glistening and his cheeks wet and scalded. But his brows were drawn level + and his jaw was thrust out beneath the tightened lips in a way which + brought out the family likeness with amazing force. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said his father. ‘Say your say, and go.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall say my say,’ the younger man responded. ‘Spain is not the place. + Castle Barfield is the place. The Beacon Hill is the place. This house is + the place.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘So you have been eavesdropping?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You know I haven’t,’ Polson answered in cold disdain. ‘But I’m not going + to follow that red herring. I say Spain’s not the place—unless——’ + </p> + <p> + He choked and stammered and could go no further. + </p> + <p> + ‘Unless what?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Unless—oh, my God! how can I say it? Unless my father and his + cousin are a brace of rascals.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s pretty language from an only son.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. It’s pretty language. Give me a chance to take it back, and change + it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sit down,’ said Jervase, pointing to a chair. His son obeyed him, and he + took a seat at the opposite side of the table, leaning both his arms + forward ponderously. ‘Now, you and me have got to have this out, I see.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ the young man answered, repressing a sick shudder. ‘We must have it + out, father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well; I suppose you believe the yarn these chaps have pitched to + Stubbs?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What am I to believe?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Suppose it’s true, what do you think is going to happen?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Shame and ruin to us all,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘As for shame—maybe yes—most likely no. As for ruin—that’s + as I please.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s as I please, I tell you. If this here idiot hadn’t come bursting + in and yelping out his story as he did, we could have managed some sort of + a compromise quite easy. As it is, we’ve got our own partner again us. You + can guess what sort of a chance that’d give us in a court of justice. Now + you remember, Polson. This ain’t a civil perceeding. The minute they get + them chaps over from Canada and the States it’s a criminal prosecution. + D’ye want to see your own father in the dock? I don’t, and so I tell you. + He isn’t <i>going</i> to stand there—you may bet your life to that, + and say I told you. If I can get this braying jackass, this leaking sieve, + this trembling, yowking lady’s lapdog out o’ the way I can face things.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You can say what you like about me, John,’ said Mr. Jervoyce. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you for nothing,’ John answered. ‘That’s my privilege without your + leave or with it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s all true, is it?’ asked Polson, drearily. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes. It’s all true. But look here, Polson, when this fool’s out o’ the + way we can make a fight for credit. It’s him as deserves to suffer, and + it’s him as has got to suffer to begin with.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Me!’ cried James. ‘Me that deserves to suffer? Who was it put the thing + into my mind? Who was it that came time and time and time again to whisper + into my ear, and tell me where I could find the men—and—and—and + everything? Why curse you——!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here,’ said John Jervase. ‘You’re a sidesman and a trustee, and the + Lord alone knows what all. Be decent in your language.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You made me your catspaw. You’ve left nothing to be traced to you if you + could help it. You’ve thrust me into the mire so that you could walk over + dry-shod.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ve had your share of the spoil, haven’t you, you lean hypocrite?’ + asked Jervase. ‘If you’ll only do as I bid you now I’ll pull you through.’ + </p> + <p> + He had turned to address his cousin, and now he showed him a disdainful + back, and came face to face with his son again. + </p> + <p> + ‘What on earth are you doing there?’ he asked, after a minute’s watching. + </p> + <p> + For Polson was divesting himself of his heavy gold watch and chain, and + rolling out gold and silver from his pockets, and pulling one or two + handsome rings from his fingers, and laying them all upon the tablecloth + before him with an extraordinary stolidity of manner. + </p> + <p> + ‘What are you doing?’ his father asked again. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve said good-bye to one or two things to-night,’ said Polson. ‘I’ve got + no right to a farthing’s worth of all that. I’ve got no right to anything. + It seems I’ve lived on stolen money all my life and gone flaunting about + in stolen feathers. Well, I didn’t know it. Perhaps I ought to feel kinder + towards you than I do, but I can’t help it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why—why——’ Jervase almost babbled. ‘What’s it mean?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s one more good-bye. That’s all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re not—you’re <i>not</i> a-going to leave me, Polly? You’re not + a-going to throw your father over?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I thought my father was an honest man. I thought I had a right to go into + the world amongst gentlemen and hold up my head amongst them, and make a + career amongst them. That was a mistake, you see. I’ve been mistaken all + along, and now I’ve found it out. Good-bye, father. Goodbye, James.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No, no, Polly. You mustn’t go. I can’t let you go.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Father,’ the young man answered, sternly and sorrowfully, ‘I am going. If + I tried to swallow another mouthful in this house it would choke me. If I + tried to sleep here another night I might as well lie down on fire. If I + can’t eat meat I have a right to, I’ll go without. If I can’t lie down + under an honest roof, I can find the lee-side of a hedge.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve been a kind father to you, Polly, my lad; I’ve let you want for + nothing.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ve let me want for an honest name. That’s all. Good-bye.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But, Polly—Polly—my own lad, my only lad—you’re all + I’ve got to live for. What are you going to do?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall take the Queen’s shilling, and try my luck in the Crimea.’ + </p> + <p> + And before his father could answer him he was gone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + Polson was gone, so far, only to his own room, but so swiftly that it was + impossible to intercept him, and the snick of the bolt in the lock + arrested his father before he had set a single foot upon the stair. + </p> + <p> + Grim and pale, Polson lit his candles and began to range about the + apartment, drawing out from one recess a pair of heavy walking boots, and + from another a well-worn suit of velveteens which had seen him through a + year or two of sport in the spinny and at the river side. He cast off the + clothes he wore, hastily assumed these stouter garments, and having + encased his legs in a pair of strong leather leggings, he opened his + bedroom door, blew out his candle, and went swiftly down the stairs into + the hall. There the wreckage-of an hour or two ago was all piled together + in one corner, but groping amongst it in the darkness with both hands, he + found a long waterproof overcoat, and after more search a sealskin + shooting cap; appropriating both of these he strode to the rear of the + house, opened the door by which his father had entered on that night of + evil omen, and walked out into the roaring darkness. + </p> + <p> + He was on the sheltered side of the building and did not as yet feel the + force of the wind. For half a minute he stood with his heart in his + throat, and his hand upon the hasp of the door, straining his ears to + listen. He heard nothing but the insane noises of the night. Suddenly, he + drew the door towards him violently, and it closed with a slam and a snap. + He was outside, and the thing he had purposed was accomplished. He had + said good-bye to the house in which he had learned to walk and talk—the + house which had been his home for the whole of his life, except for a year + or two of earliest infancy, and the sound of the closing door seemed as if + it cut his life in two. + </p> + <p> + He walked rapidly until he reached the ridge before he encountered the + full violence of the storm, for the wind had shifted within the last hour + or two. Then, stalwart as he was, it caught and whirled him and sent him + running willy-nilly for a hundred yards or more. But there was not a nail + in his boots which was not familiar with every acre of that country-side + for a mile or two, and he found the path with ease and certainty, and + ploughed along it as surely as if it had been broad daylight, though the + night was black as a wolf’s mouth. The bitter wind and driving rain were + welcome to his hot eyes and scalded face, and he walked with a swift + resolution until he had reached the spot from which in daylight the last + view of the house would have been possible. There he turned, the + waterproof coat whipping about his ankles like a torn sail, and the rain + pattering its own music on his broad shoulders. Dimly, very dimly, he + could see—or perhaps he only thought he saw—the chimneys of + the old home rising against a little clearing in the distant lift of the + sky. + </p> + <p> + So very brief a while ago he had been happy there. Only an hour or two + since he was meditating, between the moves of the game, on the very words + he meant to use in telling Irene that he loved her. Only an hour or two + since every thought was full of hope and ambition, since the path of + honour stood wide open with a vague bright figure beckoning in its far + distance. + </p> + <p> + A frost in harvest time will ripen grain, and a great grief will give a + sudden maturity to character. It was a boy who dreamed the happy dreams of + that evening; it was a man who turned his back upon the old homestead, and + set out upon his journey through the world. + </p> + <p> + He had a seven miles’ walk before him, and a black unsheltered night at + the end of it; but he walked as swiftly and as resolutely as if a goal of + comfort had awaited him. When once the hillside was cleared and he had + reached level ground, progress was less difficult, and after the + tremendous tempest of the day the wind gave signs of having blown itself + out. There were pausings and relentings in it, and there were clear spaces + in the sky out of which the stars began to shine keen and clear. The storm + was over by the time when, after two hours of brisk walking, he had + reached his journey’s end, and found himself before the long bleak wall of + the cavalry barracks of the great Midland town. He had a long spell of + waiting before him, and seating himself on a hewn stone at the side of the + barrack gate he filled and lit his pipe, and prepared himself for a game + of patience. Once or twice in the course of the long night a policeman + passed him, turned his bull’s-eye lantern upon his face, and went by + without questioning, and these events made the only break in the long + monotony of the hours. He had at last fallen either into a stupor or a + doze, when suddenly the notes of a bugle sounding the <i>reveille</i> + startled him to his feet, with its urgent call of + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Wake! Wake! Wake! + And wake in a hurry—a hurry—a hurry—a hurry, + And Wake! Wake! Wake! +</pre> + <p> + There began to be a faint stir about the place, like the humming in a hive + the inmates of which have been disturbed, and a little while later the + bugle rang out again, in notes that were destined to become familiar to + his ears. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + All you that are able + Come down to the stable, + And water your horses and give ‘em some corn. + And if you don’t do it + The Colonel shall know it, + And you shall be punished the very next morn. +</pre> + <p> + Soon afterwards the gates were opened, and a man in uniform appeared with + a carbine tucked beneath his arm and began to pace up and down, just + within the great bare barrack square. Polson marched up to him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you recruiting here?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘We are so,’ the man answered. ‘Do you want to join?’ + </p> + <p> + Polson nodded. + </p> + <p> + ‘Better see the Sergeant in the guardroom,’ the sentry told him. ‘Go + through that door and you will find him there.’ + </p> + <p> + People who read their Dickens, as all men who are privileged to speak the + English language ought to do, will remember a striking little passage in + ‘Oliver Twist,’ in which the author moralises upon the first dressing of a + new-born pauper baby. Until the faded yellow garments which have done + service for many predecessors are wrapped about it, the baby might be + anybody’s child—a Duke’s, or a ploughman’s. But the livery of its + unfortunate estate marks and stamps it at once and gives it the social + caste and <i>cachet</i> it is doomed to wear. But it is not so when time + has developed character, and a change of garb does not work an actual + transformation in the grown man. Polson had purposely chosen the shabbiest + outfit he could find in his whole kit; but he was recognisably a gentleman + at a glance, and as he strode into the guard-room the Sergeant in charge, + who was sitting on the edge of a sloping wooden bedstead, stood up and + saluted him, a fact for which the recruit had to pay later on. + </p> + <p> + ‘You want recruits here?’ said Polson, and the Sergeant, finding that he + had been betrayed into a sign of respect for one who was willing to become + his own inferior, answered him with a scowling ill-temper. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes!’ he snapped. ‘Wait there till the orderly room is opened.’ + </p> + <p> + The young man was too full of his own concerns to take offence at a tone. + He sat down quietly and waited. Uniformed men came and went, and nobody + took heed of him until some two hours had gone by, when the Sergeant awoke + him from his reverie. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come this way.’ + </p> + <p> + He followed the Sergeant across the square, and through an open doorway on + the far side of it. The Sergeant turned on him. ‘Take your cap off, and + walk into that room.’ Polson obeyed again, and found himself in the + presence of a young officer who was bending over a sheaf of papers on a + rough table, pen in hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Man wishes to join, sir,’ said the Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + The officer looked up and rose to his feet with an exclamation. + </p> + <p> + ‘Good God, Jervase! What are you doing here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve come to take the Queen’s shilling, Volnay,’ Polson answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, what’s become of the commission?’ the other asked. ‘Go outside, + Sergeant. I want to have some talk in private with this gentleman.’ + </p> + <p> + Now, chance had played a queer trick here, for it had led the intending + recruit straight to his oldest and closest chum, his old schoolfellow, and + old Oxford comrade. It had not occurred to him to think what regiment was + quartered in Birmingham at that time, and he had walked straight towards + his purpose without a thought of the possibility of such an encounter as + this. + </p> + <p> + ‘You ain’t serious, old fellow, are you?’ asked Captain Volnay. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Polson, ‘I’m quite serious.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sit down,’ said Volnay. ‘Of course you’ll tell me just as much and just + as little as you want to. But before you take a step that you can’t + retreat from, you’d better think things over.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Polson, ‘I’ve done all the thinking I have need for, and I’ve + made up my mind. You’ll take me, of course?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here,’ said Volnay, ‘you won’t like it, and I take the liberty to + tell you so. It’s an infernally disagreeable life—it’s a beast of a + life for a gentleman to live. It’s all very well, of course, if you’re + amongst your own set; but a gentleman ranker is certain to have a hell of + a time. He has all the non-coms on to him out of jealousy; and he’s + bullied and browbeaten beyond endurance. As for the mere rough side of the + living, nobody minds that. But if you do what you intend, you’ll find + before the week’s over that you’ve stepped into a whole tubful of scalding + hot water, and you’ll wish yourself well out of it again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all right, old chap,’ said Polson. ‘I shan’t be the first to try + it, and I dare say I shall pull through as well as another.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, here’s a sample,’ said Volnay with a laugh to take the edge from his + words. ‘Here’s a sample of the sort of thing you’re walking into. It’ll be + a piece of rank impertinence on your part to call me “old chap” in half an + hour’s time, and you mustn’t do it. When you catch sight of me, it’ll be + your business to stand up as stiff as a ramrod and salute me; and you’ll + have to say “sir” when you talk to me. And you won’t like that. And I + shan’t like it. And look here, old chap, you think twice about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve told you already,’ Polson answered, ‘I’ve done all my thinking.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Volnay, ‘wilful must if wilful will. You haven’t been getting + into any sort of mischief, have you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Polson. ‘I’ve done nothing that I have a right to be ashamed + of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Had a row with the old man?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Go home and make it up again, Jervase. A private soldier’s life is a + dog’s life for a man of your breeding, and you’ll find it so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s as may be,’ Polson answered. ‘But I’ve quite made up my mind, and + all the talking in the world will make no difference.’ + </p> + <p> + Within reach of his hand there lay upon the table a loose bunch of + ribbons, red, white, and blue, such as recruiting sergeants were wont to + pin in the hats of their recruits. And Polson, toying with this, found + that the bunch was held together at one end by a pin. He affixed it to his + own cap. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now,’ he said, putting on the cap and rising to his feet, ‘the trick’s + done.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, dear no!’ said Volnay. ‘The trick isn’t done yet, old fellow. You’ve + got to be formally enlisted, and to answer a rigmarole of questions, and + be examined by the regimental doctor, and to take the oath. The trick + isn’t done yet, by a long chalk.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Polson, ‘I shall take it as a favour if you’ll put me through + with as little waste of time as possible, for, to tell you the truth, I + want that shilling, and the sooner I get it the nearer I shall be to bread + and cheese.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ said Volnay, ‘I ain’t curious, old chap. I’m not a bit curious; but + if you can do it, I should like you to take me into your confidence, + because I might be of some use. I’m stinking rich, you know—disgracefully + rich. And if that fact’s any good to you, why you’ve only to say so, and + I’m your man.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, no, it isn’t money, Volnay. If it had been, I shouldn’t have made any + scruple about saying so. I can’t talk about it. It’s likely enough that + you may hear everything in time.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s no changing you?’ Volnay asked. ‘There’s no getting you to wait + for a week?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s no changing me,’ Polson answered, ‘and no getting me to wait.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, very well,’ said Volnay. ‘Just take that and cut across to the + canteen and get some breakfast. Come back here in a quarter of an hour’s + time, and I’ll put you through. You needn’t scruple about taking it: you + can pay me back, for there’s a five-pound bounty, ready money, declared + yesterday, and you’ll have it handed over to you on enlisting.’ + </p> + <p> + Polson took up the proffered sovereign, with something of a lump in his + throat, and turned to go. He had scarce made a step towards the door when + it opened suddenly. This was destined to be a day of strange encounters, + for who should walk almost into his arms but that Major de Blacquaire who + was the present owner of the Droitwich salt mine from which his father and + his uncle had drawn an illicit fortune. There are men who are born to hate + each other at sight; and this Major de Blacquaire and Polson, though they + had but a slight knowledge of each other, had found time to develop a + savage dislike on either side. De Blacquaire was a man with an + exasperatingly cold and supercilious fashion of speech. He was a band-box + dandy, and went scented like a lady. Polson had once threatened him with a + horse-whip, and the Major had withdrawn from the conflict not because he + had any want of physical courage, but solely because he was too much of a + fine gentleman to brawl. He had never forgotten or forgiven the insult, + and Polson had learned to hate him all the more because he mistook him for + a coward. The two recoiled from each other just in time to avoid + collision, for De Blacquaire had entered hastily. They regarded each other + for an instant, and De Blacquaire’s cynical and contemptuous gaze took in + the other from head to foot, obviously taking note of the mean attire and + the signs of the night march Polson had made. His glance fastened on the + bunch of ribbons floating from the cap, and at that he smiled. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh!’ he said, with a finicking drawl. ‘You’ve made a bolt of it, have + you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Say that again,’ said Polson, ‘and I’ll ram it down your throat, and send + a tooth or two along with it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Indeed,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘I think you’ll find that it won’t pay you + to use such language in your present position, Private Jervase.’ He turned + away and, with the whip he carried in his hand, struck a resounding blow + upon the open door. ‘Sergeant!’ he called, ‘bring up a file of men, and + take this man to the guardroom.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘On what authority, if you please?’ asked Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘On the authority of those ribbons, my man,’ De Blacquaire answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘You mistake your authority, friend Popinjay,’ said Polson. ‘I am not in + your service yet.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Has this man enlisted, Volnay?’ asked the Major. + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Volnay, ‘he hasn’t. He means to. And now I see what terms + you’re on, I shall advise him very strongly, as an old friend of mine, to + choose another regiment.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Polson. ‘I think I’ll choose another regiment. I’m not hungry + for the cat-o’-nine tails, and I should earn it if I were under this + brute’s command five minutes. You’d be a handsome chap in your own way, + Major, if it were not for that silly sneer you’re pleased to carry about + with you. But I warn you that, under any circumstances whatsoever, if you + should presume upon any difference in our rank to insult me by a word, a + gesture, or a look I’ll spoil your beauty for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘This man’s a friend of yours, is he, Volnay?’ said De Blacquaire, + ignoring his antagonist. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Volnay. ‘A very old friend of mine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you can keep him with you. I’ve just got my appointment on the + Staff. I’m off for Varna to-morrow, and I don’t suppose that I shall meet + the gentleman again. I want a private word with you. If Mr. Jervase will + be so kind as to relieve us of his presence.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll be back in a quarter of an hour,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘All right, old chap,’ Volnay answered, and made haste to add, before his + old chum had left the room, ‘I’m devilish glad you’re going, De + Blacquaire, and the whole regiment will share my sentiments. The mess will + be a devilish sight happier without you.’ + </p> + <p> + At this, the Major’s pale face flushed for an instant, and Polson grinned + sardonically as he strode away. He found his way into the canteen, made a + rough breakfast there, and then returning found Volnay ready to put him + through all the necessary formalities. An old Sergeant put the regulation + questions as to name, age, and employment. Was he married? No. Was he an + apprentice? No. Had he ever at any time offered himself for Her Majesty’s + service, and been refused? No. Had he ever been tried for any criminal + offence? No. Then here was the Queen’s shilling, and he was enlisted to + serve Her Majesty for the term of twenty years, and was now to report + himself to the doctor, and after passing his examination, would be + required to present himself at noon to be sworn in before the Colonel, and + failing so to present himself, he would be liable to arrest and + imprisonment as a rogue and vagabond. + </p> + <p> + ‘So now the trick is done,’ said Volnay, ‘and you can’t undo it. At + another time you could have bought out for thirty pounds; but we shall be + off to Varna in a week or two, and the Queen won’t spare a man she has + once laid hands on for love or money until we have got through the little + brush that’s coming with old Nick and his merry men.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + There was no sleep in the grey-stone house on the Beacon Hill, on that + eventful night on which Polson Jervase left his home, for anybody except + the domestics, who were ignorant of the blow which had fallen on the + household. Jervase made no pretence of courting sleep at all: but having + banked up the fire he went down into the cellar, brought up a couple of + bottles of brandy, and prepared himself to make a night of it. It had not + been his habit for years to drink to excess, but in his earlier days at + any time of trouble he had gone to that false solace, and now the instinct + came back to him. James kept him company awhile in his potations, but by + and by crept off to bed, and Jervase sat alone drinking fiercely, at first + without apparent effect. + </p> + <p> + General Boswell rose before dawn without having closed an eye, and waited + for the daylight. At its first dawning he walked softly to the room in + which Irene lay and tapped quietly at the door. + </p> + <p> + ‘Who’s there?’ his daughter’s voice asked him, and he answered: + </p> + <p> + ‘It is I, dear. I wish to speak to you for a moment.’ The girl unlocked + the door and left it partly open. He waited for a moment and then half + entered the room. ‘I am just starting for home,’ he said. ‘And in an hour + the carriage will be here to bring you away. Pray be ready for it.’ + </p> + <p> + She answered ‘Yes,’ and her father walked downstairs and into the hall. He + was searching for his hat and overcoat when Jervase lurched out of the + parlour. His bloodshot eyes and staggering gait showed in what fashion he + had passed the night. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re off?’ he said, thickly. ‘Won’t you have some breakfast?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said the General. ‘Go back to your bottle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here,’ said Jervase, ‘I shall put this all right. I’ve had the night + to think it over, and I shall effect a compromise. D’ye see? I shall + effect a compromise. It won’t cost you a penny, and it won’t break me. I + shall have a sleep by and by, and then I shall go and see Stubbs, and + effect a compromise. I hope you don’t bear malice, General? You’ll shake + hands before you go, won’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said the General. ‘Go back to—your bottle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But I say,’ Jervase proceeded, with a drunken tenacity, ‘you ain’t going + to bear malice, are you, General?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Stand out of my way, you drunken beast!’ the General responded, ‘or I’ll + do you a mischief.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, if that’s the way you’re going to take it, all right,’ said Jervase. + ‘James and me are going to stand the racket—it won’t hurt you either + in credit or in pocket, and I don’t see what you’ve got to be shirty + about. It wasn’t exactly what you might call a legirrimate transaction, + but there are lots of things in business that are not legirrimate. See ‘em + done every day—see ‘em done by respec’able people.’ + </p> + <p> + Boswell by this time had found his hat and overcoat, and was prepared to + go. He turned his back upon his host and re-ascended the stairs and + knocked a second time at Irene’s door. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that you, Papa?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, it is I. Can you hear me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, yes, distinctly.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall return for you. Keep your door locked until I come. Jervase has + been drinking and he may annoy you.’ With that, he walked back to the + hall, where Jervase, holding on by the handle of the door, was solemnly + swaying to and fro. ‘I shall regret,’ said Boswell, ‘to be forced to use + violence: but if you do not instantly free me of your very disagreeable + presence I shall be compelled to do you damage. Stand on one side, I tell + you. Go!’ + </p> + <p> + There was that in the ring of his voice which pierced to Jervase’s + intelligence, bemused as he was, and he staggered back into the parlour. + The General undid the fastenings of the door and walked out into the keen, + bright morning air. When he returned an hour later, Jervase had drunk + himself to sleep, and there was no further trouble with him. Irene was + ready and came from her bedroom at the General’s call. His heart ached as + he looked at her, for the passage of that one night of sleepless grief had + blighted all her fresh young beauty as a year of sickness might have done. + He took her to his arms and held her there until she drew gently away from + him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I know, dear,’ she said in a voice she bravely tried to control, but with + no great success. ‘I know, dear.’ + </p> + <p> + They exchanged no further words until they reached home, but her father + placed an arm about her shoulders and drew her to his breast, where she + nestled quietly. She had wept all her tears away, but a dry sob shook her + frame from time to time, and with every repetition of the sound the + father’s face twitched as if a rough hand had been laid upon a wound. He + parted from her tenderly when they reached home, and they met again at the + breakfast table. + </p> + <p> + ‘You understand everything that has happened, dear?’ he asked. ‘I think + so.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘The owner of the salt mine which my partners have for years been robbing + is a Major de Blacquaire, whose regiment is just now quartered at + Birmingham. They will have the route in a day or two, and I must see him + before he goes. I shall drive into the town at once; and then I must run + up to London. I do not know as yet what my partners’ rascality may have + cost me, but I am not a wealthy man, and the business may spell ruin. I + cannot afford to be idle, and I must get back into harness. Lord Raglan + knows my record. I was with him when he lost his right arm at Waterloo. He + has more than once,’ the old soldier went on with a certain stateliness, + ‘expressed a certain regard for me. I have every reason to believe myself + highly honoured by his esteem. At a time like this men of experience will + be in demand, and I feel hopeful of finding an appointment. I am not yet + too old to serve my Queen and country. Lord Raglan will see service again, + of course, and he is six years my senior, so that he is scarcely likely to + make my years a ground of objection.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Take me with you, dear,’ said Irene, ‘I shall not be very happy if I am + left alone.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you care for the drive this morning?’ her father asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like it,’ she answered, ‘of all things.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Run away and dress then,’ said the General, ‘for I have ordered the + carriage already, and it will be round in a quarter of an hour. That is + short notice for a lady’s toilet.’ he went on, trying to smile, ‘but you + must learn military despatch.’ + </p> + <p> + And thus it came about that Polson and Irene met once more before the + final parting, for at the moment at which the carriage swept into the + barrack square the newly-enlisted recruit was walking towards the orderly + room under the guidance of a corporal. The youngster still wore the + fluttering ribbons in the shabby old sealskin cap, and that fact and his + presence in the barracks told the whole story instantly. + </p> + <p> + ‘By Heaven!’ cried the General, ‘I like that. The lad has grit in him!’ He + cried aloud in the ringing clarion voice which advancing years had left in + all its rounded sweetness, ‘Hi, you there—halt!’ and the corporal at + the voice straightened himself and stood to attention. Polson knew the + voice, but he walked on until the command was repeated. The General + stopped the carriage and alighted. ‘Can you bear to speak to him?’ he + whispered. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Irene, ‘I wish it.’ + </p> + <p> + The General walked briskly to the recruit, and stretched out his hand + towards him. ‘You have done well, my lad. You could have done nothing + better. You have an old soldier’s respect, Polson. You have joined us?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, sir,’ said Polson, ‘I have joined you. Volnay is here, sir—you + remember Volnay?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘His father and I charged together at Waterloo,’ said the General. ‘He is + a good lad. You and he are great friends, I hear?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We have been,’ Polson answered. ‘Major de Blacquaire is here as well; but + he has a Staff appointment, and I understand he leaves the corps + to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘He is the man I am here to see,’ said Boswell. ‘Irene is with me, and I + believe she wishes to speak to you.’ + </p> + <p> + The young man glanced deprecatingly at his old array, and the General read + the glance. ‘She will understand all that,’ he said, ‘just as well as I + do. You have seen De Blacquaire?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I believe he is in barracks—I saw him a few hours ago.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Corporal! ‘called the General, ‘find Major de Blacquaire, give him + General Boswell’s compliments, and ask him to receive me.’ + </p> + <p> + The corporal saluted and went his way, a bewildered man, for it had never + before fallen to his lot to find a raw recruit in the enjoyment of a + General’s friendship. There was a mystery here, and it kept the regiment + in talk for a little while until the interest in it died out; but it made + Polson a man of mark from the first. The corporal was back in a minute + with a salute to say that Major de Blacquaire was in his own apartment, + and would be proud to see General Boswell at once, so the General sent off + Polson to Irene and made his way to De Blacquaire’s quarters, piloted by + the corporal. De Blaequaire received General Boswell with a show of + profound respect. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am here,’ began the General, plunging into business at once after his + own soldierly fashion, ‘I am here on an uncommonly unpleasant business. + You are the proprietor of a salt mine. You may not be aware that I have + invested the greater part of my fortune in the hands of your neighbours, + Messrs. Jervase & Jervoyce.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I was not aware of that, sir,’ said De Blaequaire, ‘and I am very sorry + to hear it. The men, to my certain knowledge, are a brace of thieves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I heard a very startling piece of news last night,’ the General + continued. ‘I heard that your solicitor, Mr. Stubbs I believe, has made a + charge against my partners of having robbed you and the former proprietor + of the mine, my lamented old friend General Airey, through a whole course + of years.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is undoubtedly true,’ De Blacquaire answered. ‘I have evidence that + a passage exists between their mine and my own, and all the evidence + points to the belief that it was purposely made. Their property, I learn, + was a miserable failure for many years, and it has now for years yielded + them a large income.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My share of that income,’ said the General, ‘has amounted to something + like fifteen hundred pounds a year for seven years past, and I need not + tell you that it will be my immediate business, so soon as I can realise + the money, to repay you—on distinct proof, of course, of the + felonious action of my partners.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I really do not see, General Boswell,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘that there is + any call upon you to sacrifice yourself for their benefit. The men are + wealthy, and I have no doubt that I can force them to disgorge.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be my own hope and aim to do that also,’ the General answered. + ‘But I have no wish for money which has been dishonourably acquired, and I + am very much afraid that I have been living at your cost. It is my obvious + duty to return to you whatever has come into my possession, provided + always that the facts are assured. I have my remedy against my partners in + the law courts, and if necessary I must seek it there.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall not venture,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘to dispute a point of personal + honour with General Boswell; but I venture to suggest that the better + course would be for us, as the injured parties, to join forces against + Messrs. Jervase & Jervoyce, and discuss the partition of the spoils + when we have secured them. They are thoroughly solvent; I know that, for I + have made inquiries; and they are well worth powder and shot. Until the + case is heard, or until they themselves come to heel of their own free + will, I cannot in honesty receive anything from you. + </p> + <p> + Their confession or, failing that, their conviction must absolutely + precede any such action as you contemplate. I am taking a business point + of view, sir, and I think that on reflection you will find that there is + no escape from it.’ + </p> + <p> + The General sat frowning and perplexed. He was in haste to be rid of the + sense that he was handling tainted money, and he was eager even to beggar + himself to secure freedom from the load which lay upon his mind. ‘I wish + you to understand, Major de Blacquaire,’ he said, ‘that I am pressing this + matter for reasons personal to myself. I am placed in a most abominable + and unbearable position. I have unwittingly been made a partner in a very + shameful transaction, and I may tell you that I have not the faintest + doubt in my own mind as to the justice of your cause. I do not feel that + as a man of honour I am justified in retaining for a day money which has + been actually stolen from another. I think I may say that it is your duty + to relieve me from this burden. I must fight for my own hand afterwards; + but I cannot consent to hold these gains a moment longer than is necessary + for me to repay them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Suppose, sir,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘that we submit this matter to an + independent and high-minded arbiter. You know Colonel Stacey? He is in + quarters at this moment, I believe, and I am sure he would give his + judgment between us willingly, I feel so confident of his verdict that + perhaps it’s hardly fair on my part to suggest the appeal to him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I know Stacey well,’ said the General, ‘Colonel Stacey is a man of + honour. I have a great respect for Stacey, and I will abide by his + opinion. I feel assured that he will be on my side. Will you kindly take + me to him?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Certainly, sir.’ The Major took up his forage cap, opened the door for + his guest, and marshalled him into the open, where he saw the hated Polson + standing at the side of the General’s carriage in conversation with a + lady. His gorge rose within him at the spectacle, and it came into his + mind that General Boswell might be as little pleased as he himself was. He + asked a question by way of calling his companion’s attention. ‘That is + your carriage, sir?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah, by the way,’ the General answered, ‘that reminds me. That is young + Jervase standing there. His commission is probably in his agent’s hands + to-day. He has learned the facts about this salt mine business, and he has + thrown up what I know to have been the dearest hope of his life. He has + joined as a recruit. He is a very fine and worthy fellow, Major de + Blacquaire. I don’t know a better lad in the world, and I desire to + bespeak your good will for him. A gentleman’s position in the ranks is not + very tolerable; but a friend at court may make things easier for him.’ + </p> + <p> + Now Major de Blacquaire had made a very excellent impression on the elder + warrior, who thought that he had behaved honourably and with delicacy in + respect to the unfortunate business which had brought them together; but + he undid that impression most conclusively. + </p> + <p> + ‘Should you call,’ he asked in his most deliberate and supercilious drawl, + ‘should you call Mr. Polson a gentleman, sir?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Most decidedly, sir!’ the General answered, with sudden heat. ‘He has the + instincts of a gentleman, and the sense of honour of a gentleman. He has + had the education of a gentleman, and has lived among gentlemen. If these + are not the facts to warrant the use of the word, I have no judgment in + the matter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said De Blac-quaire, ‘I am possibly prejudiced; + but I thought the fellow a sort of unlicked cub.’ + </p> + <p> + The General said no more, but his shoulders straightened, and both hands + went up to the big grey moustache. It was in his mind to offer a retort, + but he remembered his own dignity in time, and contented himself by + saying, ‘I shall recommend him most strongly to Colonel Stacey’s best + consideration. And you, Major de Blacquaire, I understand, are leaving the + regiment?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have received a Staff appointment, sir, and I leave to-morrow. These + are the Colonel’s quarters.’ + </p> + <p> + Both men had grown extremely frigid, but Colonel Stacey’s welcome to his + old campaigning comrade smoothed the General’s ruffled mind. He was a + bluff, grizzled man of sixty, with a scarlet countenance and a white head + so closely cropped that it looked like a bottle-brush. He had seen service + in every quarter of the world, and his manly chest was covered with + well-won medals. He listened to the General’s story sympathetically, but + he gave his judgment with a twinkle of the eye. + </p> + <p> + ‘The same old Quixote, eh, George? De Blacquaire’s right, of course—absolutely + right. And as for you, my boy, you haven’t got a leg to stand on. Of + course you’re going to join forces with your fellow sufferer, and it’s + quite monstrous to suggest that the money should come out of the pocket of + an innocent man. If the case were anybody’s but your own you’d look at it + like a sensible man. And if you were advising me, you would tell me + precisely what I’m telling you. Here, where’s that rascal of mine?’ He + opened the door and shouted, and in came a bronzed dragoon in civilian + costume. ‘Get a bottle of champagne and bring glasses. I’ve been longing + for an excuse for self-indulgence all the morning, and I’m much obliged to + you for giving it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I mustn’t join you,’ said the General. + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh, by gad,’ said the Colonel, ‘but you must and you shall. I’m expecting + to get my marching orders any hour, and those chaps mean to fight, mind + you, and it’s an open problem as to whether old Bob Stacey will come back + again. Come on, George! You’re not going to shirk a last liquor with a + comrade of forty years’ standing!’ + </p> + <p> + The General yielded, the wine was served, De Blacquaire at the Colonel’s + command emptied his glass and withdrew, leaving the old friends together. + The General seized the moment to speak a word for Polson. He told the + lad’s story, and the Colonel nodded his white head with curt approval. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is he a smart fellow?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘Highly intelligent,’ the General answered. ‘Took his B.A. at Oxford, + first-rate man across country, excellent shot. Would have had his + commission this week if his father hadn’t turned out a rascal. Throws up + everything like a lad of honour as he is, and takes the Queen’s shilling.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all right,’ said the Colonel. ‘Leave him to me. I’ll shepherd + him.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + General Boswell’s coachman was a Scot; a grim, taciturn, + brickdust-coloured fellow, who had been in his present service for a + quarter of a century. He had been bred amongst horses from his boyhood, + for his father had been a horsebreaker, and when he had run away from home + and enlisted, he had satisfied ambition by becoming a driver of artillery. + Then he had been wounded, and had turned batman for awhile. He had gone to + the General as valet, but his stable love had broken out again, and he had + gravitated by force of nature to the place of coachman. Polson’s mind did + not go back to a time when he did not remember Duncan, and to Irene he was + like a fixed part of the scheme of nature. He had one defect which at this + instant made him invaluable. He resented any imputation of the fact + angrily, but he had been deaf as an adder for years. + </p> + <p> + There was no great privacy in a barrack square, to be sure, but it was as + safe to talk within arm’s length of Duncan as if he had been a stone + Sphinx. Duncan was a man of rare discretion, and, though it must have been + like an upheaval of the world to him to see the most constant of visitors + at the General’s modest little mansion, walking in shabby raiment in a + barrack square with a recruit’s ribbons fluttering from his cap, he + saluted imperturbably as the young man came up, and then sat motionless. + </p> + <p> + Polson came to the side of the carriage, cap in hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘Your father told me I might speak to you,’ he said wistfully. ‘I hope I + am not wrong in coming to you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You have enlisted?’ she asked him. ‘You are going to the war?’ Her + self-possession cost her an effort, but she maintained it She had a + soldier’s daughter’s pride, and though she had met this first great + trouble so brief a time ago she had already taught herself to face it. Her + father was a man conspicuously brave among the brave, and he had told her + of his very first experience of war—a period of prolonged inaction + under fire. ‘A trying thing at first,’ he had said, ‘but duty will + reconcile one to anything.’ This memory had been present with her all the + morning, and though the unexpected sight of her lost lover almost broke + her down, the thought had had power to nerve her. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ he answered simply. ‘I have enlisted. I shall have to go through a + certain amount of drill, but that will soon be over, and then, I suppose, + I shall get my marching orders.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Father approves of what you have done,’ she said. + </p> + <p> + ‘He has told me so,’ he responded. ‘I am very glad of it. God is good to + me,’ he went on, turning half away from her and gazing across the square. + ‘I had not hoped to see you again for years, if ever, and there is just + one thing I wanted very much to say. It is of no use to have reserves and + disguises at a time like this. I shan’t distress you? Can you let me + speak?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Put your cap on, Polson,’ she said composedly. ‘You will catch cold.’ + </p> + <p> + The touch of womanly solicitude, small as it was, moved him. He obeyed + her, and stood, still looking across the square, until he had mastered a + suspicious clicking in the throat. + </p> + <p> + ‘You need have no fear of me, Polson,’ Irene said. ‘Speak out all your + mind.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, dear, it’s this. We’ve been comrades ever since I helped you to + learn to ride your first pony. We’ve always been the very best of friends, + and only last night I was going to ask for something more. You don’t mind + hearing me out, Irene?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No. Let us speak plainly. Let us understand each other.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you see, everything went last night with a clean sweep by the + board. I thought I was safe for a commission. I’d been brought up to + expect a handsome fortune.’ He spoke in a level tone, as if he had been + reading uninteresting matter from a book. ‘All that is changed and + everything is changed with it. I’m a penniless private of dragoons, and + our ways in the world are wide apart. For old time’s sake I should be very + sorry to believe that you’d ever forgot me altogether, but if you’ll try + to bring yourself to think of me as trying to be cheerful in a humble + station, as remembering you always in my heart of hearts, and never + forgetting the distance that divides us—if you’ll try to think of me + as always honouring myself because I was once your friend’—He was + forced to pause, but he went on again, level-voiced and monotonous as + before—‘If you’ll try to think of me as learning to be cheerful for + your sake, not as a moaning, broken-hearted chap—which I don’t mean + to be at all—but just doing my work, you know, and thinking about + you like an affectionate poor relation might—why, then, in—in + time you’ll get to feel the parting less.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you finished, Polson?’ ‘Yes, dear. That’s about all, I think. You + see, I know you, Irene. You’ll grizzle if you think I’m grizzling. That’s + your nature. You can’t bear to think of a canary bird in pain.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that is all?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, dear. That’s all.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall never forget you, dear. I shall never forget you, and I shall + never change. If you had asked me to be your wife before these things + happened I should have said “Yes,” and I should have been proud and happy. + But, Polson, this is why I thank God for having brought us together just + this once. I want you to remember that in this war names will be heard of + that never were known before. Yours may be one of them.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You mustn’t waste your life thinking of me, Irene. I shall remember every + word you have spoken. I shall treasure every word. I hope I shall do my + duty.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am sure of that,’ she answered. And then for a long time not a word was + spoken, and when at length they broke silence, they spoke of things which + were indifferent by comparison. They discussed the probable hour of the + arrival of the route, the probable destination of the regiment, the time + at which Polson might expect to escape his drill. + </p> + <p> + At last the General appeared walking side by side with Colonel Stacey. + Irene was facing that way, and was naturally the first to see him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here is good-bye, dear,’ she said. ‘Papa is coming.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-bye,’ he said softly. ‘Good-bye. God bless you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘God bless you, too,’ said Irene. She held out her little gloved hand to + him, and he took it in his own. She looked bravely into his eyes, and they + spoke their last farewell without a sign of tremor. + </p> + <p> + ‘This,’ said the General, advancing as Polson turned away, ‘is the young + fellow of whom I have been speaking. Polson, this is your commanding + officer, Colonel Stacey.’ Polson raised his cap and bowed civilian + fashion. + </p> + <p> + ‘Ah!’ said the jolly colonel, turning his red face and twinkling eyes on + the recruit. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are Polson Jervase? Joined this morning, eh? I hear an excellent + account of you. Try to deserve it. I shall remember you. Good morning.’ + </p> + <p> + But as Polson saluted again, and turned to go, the General seized him by + the hand and shook it warmly. + </p> + <p> + ‘We must all face the fortune of war, my lad,’ he said. ‘The best of good + luck go with you. If you hear of me out yonder, as you may, don’t forget + to report yourself. Good-bye.’ + </p> + <p> + There were a good many eyes at the barrack windows, and the minds of many + dragoons were inspired with wonder. For a General and a Waterloo veteran + was a personage, and the daughter of the same was a personage, and it was + out of the common for a newly-joined recruity to engage in intimate talk + with the like of them for half an hour together, and to be shaken hands + with by the veteran, and saluted as if he were an officer by the veteran’s + coachman, and personally introduced to ‘Old Stayce’ into the bargain. + </p> + <p> + And amazement sat on many foreheads when the carriage rolled away, and the + General stood up to wave his hat to the recruity, and the lady stood up to + wave her hand, and the recruity, unconscious of the interest he excited, + waved the shabby old sealskin cap in answer until the equipage was + ringingly saluted at the gate, and swung swiftly out of sight. + </p> + <p> + And then, it was over. Oh, it was all over, and one manly heart was sore + and cold. The new recruity stood there planted in the barrack square, as + innocent of his surroundings as if he had been asleep, and mechanically + filled and lit his pipe, and stood on with his chin sunk upon his breast, + scarcely aware of his own thoughts, and as yet realising little but + solitude and an ache in the doleful middle of it. But a warmth stole into + the cold. When everything was said and done, there was one thing left. + Irene loved him. Loved him! How sweet and sacred a wonder. Yet her own + dear lips had told him that she would have been proud and happy to be his + wife, and that nothing should change her. And she had given him an + ambition. The lofty and inspiring words were not yet written, but their + purport thrilled him, as it thrilled many who went out to fight and bleed + for a cause which may not have been wholly worthy of their devotion, and + yet in a sense was worthy because they believed in it with all their + hearts and souls. For, after all, what is it but the purpose which + ennobles action? If the greatest Englishman since Shakespeare had not yet + given Polson Jervase the words in which to speak his thought, it lightened + his breast all the same. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I wake to the higher aims + Of a land that has lost for a little her lust of gold, + And love of a peace that was full of wrongs and shames, + Horrible, hateful, monstrous, not to be told; + And hail once more to the banner of battle unroll’d, + Tho’ many a light shall darken, and many shall weep + For those that are crush’d in the clash of jarring claims, + Yet God’s just wrath shall be wreak’d on a giant liar; + And many a darkness into the light shall leap, + And shine in the sudden making of splendid names, + And noble thought be freer under the sun. + And the heart of a people beat with one desire; + For the peace, that I deem’d no peace, is over and done, + And now by the side of the Black and the Baltic deep, + And deathful-grinning mouths of the fortress, flames + The blood-red blossom of war with a heart of fire. +</pre> + <p> + So thought Polson Jervase, and so thought hundreds of valiant men who were + ready to lay down their lives in a quarrel which the years have proved + unprofitable. + </p> + <p> + But a voice awoke the recruity from his reverie—a voice of authority + which asked with a most unnecessary emphasis what the blank, blank he + meant by skulking there, when he knew conventionally well that he had been + conventionally well ordered to the quartermaster’s stores to get his + conventional kit. The recruit was not accustomed to hear himself addressed + in this manner, and his earliest impulse was to hit the pug nose of the + person who accosted him, but he remembered himself in time, and bethinking + him of the wise man’s saying, that a soft answer turneth away wrath, he + asked meekly where he should go. Then the Sergeant, who was so straitly + trousered and jacketted that he pranced in his going, ordered him to + follow his nose, adding that if he conventionally well supposed that + because a conventional General in a conventional carriage came to see him + off, he was entitled to shirk his conventional duties, he was + conventionally well in error. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, Sergeant,’ said Polson, turning to face his conductor, ‘that’s a + filthy bad habit. If you want to be respected, drop it.’ + </p> + <p> + The Sergeant went as scarlet as his stable-jacket, and said that any + conventional recruit had conventionally well <i>got</i> to respect <i>him</i> + any conventional how. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear sir, no,’ said Polson. ‘It’s quite impossible to respect a man + who talks like a foul-mouthed parrot.’ + </p> + <p> + The Sergeant walked like a man astounded and said no more, and Polson + likewise held his peace. They were both quietly businesslike whilst Polson + got his kit served out to him, and by the time this work was over, the + dinner hour had arrived. He was told off to a mess in a long barrack-room, + in which his brother recruits were quartered, under the charge of an old + soldier. Some of these new comrades were fresh from the plough, and some + were the rowdy refuse of the town; one wore a miner’s flannels, and + another was a weedy youth from a shop-counter, who had a higher opinion of + himself than others were likely to form. + </p> + <p> + The speech of every man jack of them was like the exhalation of a + cesspool, and the newest of Her Majesty’s hired servants sat in a grim + wrath and loathing, seeing that he had chosen these for his life + companions. The meal was plentiful, and not bad of its kind, but it was + dirtily served, and asked for long custom or an appetite of more than + average keenness. Our recruit had neither the one nor the other, but he + remembered his promise to Irene. He had undertaken to meet his fate + cheerfully, and the fare was part of his fate. He would have no + re-pinings. The food was honest and wholesome, and he would probably learn + to be eager for worse before the war was over. So he, as it were, squared + his shoulders at his trencher, and was just ready to fall to, when one of + the plough-tail gentry sitting just opposite let fall a speech which would + have turned the stomach of a decent hog, if he had happened to understand + it. Polson’s heart maddened within him, and he smote his fist upon the + unclothed table so that the plates of chipped enamel iron danced from end + to end on it. + </p> + <p> + ‘You filthy clodpole!’ he said, rising from his place and thrusting a + prognathous jaw and blazing eyes half-way across the table. ‘Speak like + that again in my hearing, and I’ll give you such a hiding as you never had + since you were born.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And sarve him right, begorra,’ said the man at the head of the table. + ‘It’s sick I am of all the dirty stuff I’ve to listen to—An’ dese + boys is ‘listed for de war, and dere’s not wan of ‘em knows he mayn’t be + stiff on de field in tree or four monts’ time. An’ be way of makin’ ready + for a soldier’s end an’ a sudden meetin’ wid his God, dey’re chewin’ + blasphaymious conversation from <i>reveille</i> to lights out, so dey + are.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you,’ said Polson, and so sat down and tried to go on with his + dinner. + </p> + <p> + The meal was finished in silence. The scene had its effect, and it had all + the more surely for two or three things which happened later on. Example. + The whole rough squad was turned into the riding school that afternoon + dressed as they might happen to be. The accustomed old drill-horses, + saddled and bridled, were ranged on the tan at the wall, with stirrups + crossed over the shoulders, and when the word ‘Mount’ was given, Polson + was the only one of the newly recruited crowd who did not make a painful + climb in trying to obey the order. He was in the saddle in a flash, and + sat there like a centaur. + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ve got one man amongst us, seemin’ly,’ said the old rough-riding + Sergeant. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ve seen a horse before to-day, my lad.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘One or two,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘Come out,’ said the red-nosed drill. + </p> + <p> + ‘Let’s see what you’re good for. Put her at that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’ was a furze-covered revolving pole mounted on swivelled trestles, + and about three feet high. It was a leap for a child, and Polson went over + it, turned and came nimbly back again. The instructor approached him and + took him by the foot and ankle. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the shape for the cavalry leg,’ he said. ‘Keep that and don’t lose + it. Now put her at it again.’ + </p> + <p> + As the recruit turned to obey the order, the Sergeant mischievously + slashed the mare across the quarters, and the venerable she-trooper + skipped; but this was hardly a thing to scare the best cross-country man + of his shire, and Polson nipped over the bar and back again. At that + moment entered Captain Volnay, to whom the drill, saluting, said: + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s no use wasting this man’s time here, sir. Colonel’s orders are to + get ‘em through as fast as possible. He’d be better engaged at foot + drill.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very good,’ said Volnay. ‘You can dismount, my man. Come with me.’ + </p> + <p> + On the far side of the square a squad was at work at the sword exercise, + and the instructor’s voice was bawling: ‘Thrust, return, thrust—return. + Carry—so! Slope—so! Shun! Stand at ease!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said Volnay. ‘How do you like it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall like it well enough, I dare say. I haven’t shaken into the saddle + yet.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m going to hand you over to this lot,’ said Volnay, indicating the + squad with a motion of the hand. ‘D’you know anything about it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A bit,’ the recruit answered. ‘You see, it’s been the dream of my life to + join, and I’ve been taking lessons.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good old enthusiast!’ said Volnay. ‘I saw you meeting old Stayce. He’s a + grand old sort. No finer soldier in the army. Regiment adores him. And he + has an eye for a man who does his duty. A nod’s as good as a wink to a + blind horse, old Pol, eh?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll try,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll try right enough. You’re a good old pebble. I’ve got to be + professional, you understand. No end of a devil of a lot of unpleasantness + if these chaps suspected favouritism.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Oh,’ said Polson, ‘I’m at work. No playing <i>en amateur</i>.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the style. There are some of our fellows saying there’ll be no + fighting. That’s rubbish. There’s glory in front of some of us, Polly.’ + </p> + <p> + They went on in silence until they reached the guard. + </p> + <p> + ‘Shun!’ roared the Sergeant, and the men clicked their heels together and + straightened their backs and tucked their chins in and assumed that ramrod + posture which the authorised drill-book of the day described as ‘the free + and unconstrained attitude of a soldier.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sergeant,’ said Volnay, ‘this man has just joined, but Sergeant Gill + finds that he can ride and has dismissed him from the riding school. He + tells me that he’s been taking lessons in sabre practice. Just put him + through his paces, will you?’ + </p> + <p> + So the Sergeant set his squad to stand at ease again, and Polson, being + provided with a belt and sabre, was stuck up in front of it, feeling + absurdly like a trick ape on show. + </p> + <p> + ‘Draw—so! Slope—so! Prep—air! Prove distance!’ and so + on. + </p> + <p> + ‘Pursuin’ practice. One. Cut—thrust—parry. Two. Cut—thrust—parry. + Shunt Now from the word of command, right through. Sword exercise. Prep—air! + Prove distance—go! Shun! Pursuin’ practice I Prep—<i>air!</i> + Go! Shun! That’s all right, sir. Ever been in the service before, young + feller?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said Polson. ‘I always meant to join, and I thought I’d get ready as + far as I could.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now look here, my lad,’ said the Sergeant. ‘You’ve been through the mill + before, you have. You’re a deserter, you know, that’s what you are.’ + </p> + <p> + Polson laughed. He had thought never to laugh again, but the accusation + tickled him. + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg your pardon, Captain Volnay,’ he said, saluting in officer’s + fashion—the only way he had been taught; ‘but perhaps you will speak + up for me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Deserter?’ said Volnay. ‘Rubbish! Known the man for years. Always keen on + the service, and got ready for it. Jervase.’ ‘Yes, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re a pretty good shot, I gather?’ ‘Thank you, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Any instruction in musketry?’ ‘Pretty fair, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Put him through his facings, Sergeant, in the riding school at four + o’clock this afternoon. I’ll be there. You hear, Jervase?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + At this juncture the Sergeant surprised a wink from Volnay, which that + young gentleman supposed to have been unseen, and he fell a-thinking. The + result of his cogitation was rapid and conclusive. The young man who knew + the minutiae of his trade of soldier, and had an officer’s trick of + salute, and was on winking terms with the wealthiest man in the regiment, + was a person to be made up to, and to be made up to in the least + transparent way. + </p> + <p> + ‘We’re awfully short-handed, sir,’ said the Sergeant, touching his forage + cap to Volnay. ‘We might utilise this man as a drill, sir, if you’ll + permit me to suggest such a thing. I could get on twice as fast, sir, if + I’d half the squad to deal with.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said Volnay. ‘I’ll see the adjutant about that.’ + </p> + <p> + And the raw recruit was drilling his barrack-room comrades before he or + they had fitted on a uniform, and his ringing ‘Carry—so!’ or ‘Ground—oh!’ + sounded through the square as imperiously as any in those first busy days. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re a (conventional) wonder, you are,’ said the drill instructor at + the close of the second day. ‘You’ve got the powers that be behind you, + and you’ll be one of <i>us</i> in a month or two. Promotion’s quick when + the word comes for blood and rust and mud and oil.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + If Polson had not to be taught how to ride, how to handle a sabre or a + gun, or how to balance himself in the goose-step—matters which he + had taken the pains to master long ago—there were still certain + things to learn, and the button stick, and the flat and chain burnish, and + the pots of chrome yellow, and blacking, and pipeclay, were just as + strange to him as they would have been to any other raw recruit; so that + he was teaching his business at one end and learning it at the other for a + matter of some four or five days. + </p> + <p> + There was a poor exile of Erin in the shape of an impecunious Irish + nobleman, who enlisted on the same day with Polson and whose uniform was + tried on in the same hour. + </p> + <p> + They were in the tailor’s shop together with a hurried Sergeant standing + over them. + </p> + <p> + The aristocratic Paddy pulled on his trousers with a heavy sigh. + </p> + <p> + ‘The livery,’ said he, ‘of me degradation.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is the Queen’s uniform,’ said Polson, ‘and you have a right to be + proud to wear it.’ + </p> + <p> + The child of Erin buttoned his stable jacket and went out to drill, and + Polson gave him a purposed double dose of labour. He had given orders to + an individual man here and there, but until he became a dragoon he had + never commanded a crowd, and there is something in that which makes either + a man or a sweep of the commander. Polson was all alert, eager to teach + what he knew to the slow and loutish squad before him; but on that first + morning of his wearing the Queen’s cloth, keen as he was upon his own + business, he could not help recognising a certain pair of flea-bitten + greys which swept through the barrack gate whilst he was at work some + fifty yards away. They came from the Bar-field Arms, and he had helped the + man who now drove them in their breaking, four or five years ago. + </p> + <p> + There was a cry of ‘Guard, tarn out!’ and a clash of salute as the + carriage rolled through the gates without a challenge, and the man who sat + at the back, disdaining the cushions, and with a lustrous silk hat cocked + over one eyebrow, was his father. John Jervase came into barracks, as he + had gone everywhere throughout his life, with a magnificent impudence, and + he distributed salutes to all and sundry from a majestic forefinger; + whilst his only son watched him with a sardonic eye as he bowled up to the + officers’ quarters. + </p> + <p> + The card of Mr. John Jervase was carried to Colonel Stacey, and Colonel + Stacey was ready to receive Mr. Jervase in a flash. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am told, sir,’ said Mr. Jervase, in that bluff, John-Bull way of his, + which had brought a hundred people to his net, ‘that the regiment has its + marching orders, and I can quite believe that you’ve got something better + to do than to listen to anything I have to say.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m pressed for time, sir,’ said the Colonel. ‘The regiment marches in an + hour.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s a lad of mine, sir,’ said Jervase, ‘has enlisted. And here is a + letter from Kirby & Sons, the well-known Army agents, telling me + they’ve got my cheque for his commission. It’s been the hope of my heart + to see the lad in the army, and it’s been his hope also. We’ve had a + quarrel, sir, and I don’t mind confessing that it is my fault. The lad’s a + good lad.’ His voice began to tremble. ‘But he’s throwing his life away + for a freak. I’ve bowt his commission, and here’s the letter from the + London agents to say that the whole thing is complete. I know he’s here, + for I heard him as I crossed the barrack square. I’d like you to help me + to bring him back to reason.’ + </p> + <p> + The Colonel took a whip from the table and struck a blow upon the door, + which was one of his substitutes for bell-ringing. + </p> + <p> + ‘Private Jervase,’ he said, ‘is drilling a squad in front of the Cupola. + Send him here.’ He waved his visitor to a chair, and plunged into the + examination of a heap of papers which lay before him. Jervase nursed his + silk hat in both hands and waited, listening to the scattered noises of + the barrack square and catching amongst them his son’s voice with a sort + of fatal sound of command in it. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is he going to talk to me like that?’ asked the father of himself; and + the minutes went slowly by until Colonel Stacey’s batman tapped + respectfully at the door, and announced ‘Private Jervase.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll leave you,’ said the Colonel, gathering his papers in his hand, and + darting towards the doorway. + </p> + <p> + ‘I beg you won’t, sir,’ cried Jervase the elder, ‘I shall be more than + obliged to you, sir, if you will help me to bring my boy to reason. + There,’ he cried, casting a letter upon the table, ‘is a notice from the + London agents that his commission is bought and paid for. There’s my + cheque for a thousand pounds, and if that isn’t good enough for him, + there’s fifty twenty-pound notes of the Bank of England, and he can have + both of ‘em with as good a heart on my side as if he took the one and left + the other.’ + </p> + <p> + The Colonel looked from the son to the father, and back from the father to + the son. + </p> + <p> + ‘Really, Mr. Jervase,’ he said, ‘I don’t see that this is much of an + affair of mine. I will leave you to fight it out between you.’ + </p> + <p> + The Colonel walked to the door, and father and son were left together. + John Jervase, banker, capitalist, driver of men, was not in the least like + himself that morning, and his hands trembled so that he was fain to clutch + one with another, and to hold both tight between his knees as he sat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Polly,’ he began, but Polson gazed sternly straight before + him, and gave no sign of sympathy or forgiveness. ‘Look here, Polly, I’ve + had about a week of it, and I can’t stand it any longer. You and me’s got + to be friends, or else I’ve got to put an end to things in a way as you + won’t fancy.’ + </p> + <p> + He waited, but there was no response from the stolid figure in front of + him. Pol-son stared out of the window and stood silent and immobile as a + statue. + </p> + <p> + ‘I left you to yourself,’ said Jervase, ‘until I’d got everything right + and comfortable. Major de Blaequaire has gone off to Southampton, and I + believe he’s on his way to Varna, somewhere in the Black Sea. I’ve made a + deposit with Stubbs, his lawyer, of no less than fifty thousand pounds, my + lad. That’s been a shake, I tell you. I’ve had a good deal o’ trouble to + raise that sum in a hurry, but I’ve done it, and there’s to be no action + and no scandal of any sort until De Blaequaire comes back again. That + gives your Uncle James and me time to turn round.’ + </p> + <p> + He waited again, and still Polson stood like a statue and made no answer. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve done more than that,’ Jervase went on. ‘I’ve banked twelve thousand + pounds to General Boswell’s credit, so that come what may he isn’t likely + to suffer. If De Blaequaire carries the case on when he comes back to + England, James and me can pay him every penny of his rightful claim, and + we’ll do it.’ + </p> + <p> + He paused again, for his voice had once more half escaped from his + control. The boy stood before him, cold and inflexible as doom. To the + father’s eye he had never looked so manly and handsome as he did at this + moment, and what with fatherly pride and self pity and a sense of the + magnanimity of his own purposes, the emotions of John Jervase were + strangely mixed. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’ll be no trouble at all, Polly,’ he said, after a pause. ‘I’ve put + everything straight for you. You’ve only got to run up to London to sign + your papers, to have your commission, and go out like a gentleman. I’ve + brought a portmanteau with me in the carriage, with everything you’ll + actually need in it for a week or two, and there’s the money for you to + order anything else you want. I packed the portmanteau with my own hands, + Polly.’ + </p> + <p> + He paused again, for in his own way he was genuinely moved: but the boy + still stood there, staring out of the window, and answered never a word. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ve got to listen,’ said the elder, rising and shaking him by the + shoulder. ‘You think I have acted like a scoundrel, and you’re ashamed of + your old father. I dare say you’re right, my lad, but it wasn’t so much my + fault as you might fancy. There was a leak between that mine of old + General Airey’s and your Uncle James’s when I went into partnership with + him, and, after all, we only helped Nature just a little bit, and there’s + many a man walking about this minute, holding his head high, who has done + more wrong than I have.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘For God’s sake, don’t!’ cried Polson, breaking silence for the first + time. ‘It’s bad enough as it is. Don’t make it worse by talking about it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I won’t, Polly,’ said Jervase. ‘I’ll do anything you like if you’ll only + shake hands and say as you forgive me. Now there’s two thousand pound on + this here table, and there’s the letter from your agents; and you can be + off to London within an hour, and have your heart’s desire. What’s the + good of being stupid?’ + </p> + <p> + He took a great bandana handkerchief from the tail pocket of his + respectable black coat, and blew his nose resoundingly, and wiped his + eyes. He was very deeply moved indeed, and Polson was profoundly sorry for + him; but there was a sick whirl in the lad’s mind which robbed him of any + clear power of thought and seemed indeed to deaden feeling itself. Only he + knew that nothing could undo his shame. Nothing could ever make him + respect himself again. Nothing could give back to him the old sense of + honour, the knowledge that he came of honest folk. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Polly,’ Jervase broke out again, ‘I haven’t bred you up to be + a common soldier. When I was a young and struggling man, by comparison + with what I am now, I said to myself, “I’ll make my lad a gentleman.” I + sent you to Rugby, and I sent you to Oxford, and I never stinted neither + love nor money. And if I <i>was</i> a bit over-greedy and in a hurry to be + rich, I did what I did a good deal more for your sake than my own.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Leave bad alone, father,’ said Polson, with an almost savage sternness. + ‘Can’t you see that you make things worse with every word you speak? Isn’t + it enough for me to know what I know already, but you must make me a + partner in that shameful business?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Polly,’ said Jervase, almost fawning on him, ‘I’ve been a hard man all my + life, and I’ve lived a hard life for years. I’ve been a proudish sort of + chap, in my own way, and I’ve never stooped to ask any man’s pardon twice + for the same offence. But it’s different between you and me, and I can’t + let my own flesh and blood go away from me until I’ve had a word of some + sort. It’s only a word, Polly. You can’t deny me! You’re a-going out to + the war, Polly, and you might never come back again. And think of me—think + of your poor old father sittin’ at home, and sayin’ to himself, “I sent my + son away with a broken heart and ashamed of his own father, and he + wouldn’t touch my hand before he went to his own death, and he wouldn’t + say one forgiving word to me, and I murdered him, and I broke his heart, + and I made him ashamed of his own father.” You think of me, Polly, sittin’ + at home and thinkin’ like that. Maybe for years and years. We’re a + long-lived lot, we Jervases, and I should make old bones in the course of + nature, but I couldn’t bear it, Polly, I couldn’t bear it. I should have + to put an end to it, and if you go away without a word, it won’t be long + before I do it.’ + </p> + <p> + The bugles sang out the assembly in the barrack square. Polson both heard + and understood, but his father did neither. Within half an hour the + regiment would be on the march, and already the red-coated, brass-helmeted + men, shining from head to foot and glittering in the fine array war wears + before the exchange of the first blows, were moving about the open. + </p> + <p> + ‘Now look here, Polly,’ said Jervase, striving no longer to disguise the + wet eyes and the breaking voice, ‘it’s take it or leave it. There’s your + father’s hand. Are you a-going to touch it before he goes away?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t you think,’ asked Polson, ‘that you’re making it pretty hard for + both of us?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said Jervase, ‘there’s no handshake. There’s no good-bye + betwixt we two as friends. Perhaps you may come back in a different + humour, Polly. Here’s your agent’s letter. Are you a-going to take your + commission, and fight in a gentleman’s uniform for your Queen and country, + or are you going out to advertise your father’s shame by wearing a + private’s coat?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I shall go as I am,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said John Jervase again. ‘There’s the father’s hand refused, + and there’s the commission chucked into the gutter. Now here’s a cheque + for a thousand pound as you can cash with Cox & Co. in London. Are you + a-going to take that, or are you not?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m not likely,’ said Polson, ‘to have any sort of use for money.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re hard,’ said his father. ‘You’re bitter hard. There’s the ‘and + refused. There’s the commission chucked, and there’s the check too dirty + for you to look at. Very well. Now there’s fifty notes for twenty pounds + a-piece. Will you take them?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘No,’ said the youngster, ‘I shall have no want of money and no use for + it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re hard,’ said Jervase. ‘You’re bitter hard. Will you take one of + them? It might come in useful. Take it, Polly. Just take it, even if you + never spend it.’ He clutched one note from the heap which lay upon the + table, and held it in a shaking hand towards his son. And Polson still + stood like a statue, and stared out of the window. He would fain have been + more relenting had he dared, but he feared the loss of his own manhood if + he once began to pardon, and perhaps he was severer to himself than to the + old man who begged for his forgiveness. ‘There’s the ‘and,’ said Jervase, + weeping openly. ‘He won’t touch that. There’s the commission only waiting + for him to sign, and he won’t touch that. There’s a cheque for a thousand + pound as would send him to the war fitted out like a gentleman, and he + won’t touch that. There’s the ready money to the same amount as would help + him to hold his head up among his comrades anywhere, and he won’t touch + that. And here’s a note for a mere twenty pounds, and his father asks him + just to take it as a sort of a memorial, and to keep it like as if it was + a funeral card, and he won’t touch that.’ + </p> + <p> + Polson was white to the lips, but he looked straight before him still, and + gave no sign. Jervase took up the agent’s letter and deliberately tore it + into pieces. He took up his own cheque and tore that into pieces also. He + patted the pile of notes together and put them into his breast pocket, + crying all the while with odd little child-like snatches of sound which + were wounding to listen to. + </p> + <p> + The bugles sang out again in the square, and the distant hoofs were + clattering on the cobbled stones in front of the stables. Through the + window Polson could see the glitter of the polished brass of the band, as + it moved slowly across the square towards the barrack gate, and formed up + in a solid cube. There was a crowd outside in the streets, and from it + rose a noise of cheering. There was silence in the room except for those + child-like, unrestrained sobs which shook John Jervase; and even these + quieted down as if he too were listening to the growing tumult outside. + There was a sudden roll of drums, and the band began to play ‘The Girl I + left behind me.’ An imperious rap sounded at the door, and Colonel Stacey + entered without waiting for a response. + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you take your commission, Jervase, or are you to be left here?’ he + asked brusquely. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am to be left here, sir,’ Polson answered. ‘But I hope that I may get + my marching orders as soon as possible.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We embark on Friday,’ said the Colonel, ‘and another ship follows that + day week. I’ll see you through by then.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you, sir,’ said Polson, and the Colonel nodded and was gone. + </p> + <p> + The band was playing, and the crowd in the street was cheering, and there + was silence between father and son for two or three minutes. Then rose + from the barrack square a deafening roar as ‘old Stayce’ rode out on the + bright bay with the three white stockings, and cantered to the front. The + hoarse, commanding voice pealed out the word, the band crashed into a new + marching tune, and the regiment began to move forward, like a scarlet + snake with glistering scales. Clank and clatter of scabbard, tramp of the + ordered ranks, blare of the band, and roar on roar from the street, and + then little by little a falling silence. At last dead quiet. + </p> + <p> + ‘You needn’t think there’s no clean money in my hands,’ said Jervase. ‘I + don’t owe everything to that blasted brine-pit. You can take your own + rights. You can take what I offer you, and feel as you’re an honest man + all the same. And Polly, if you’re going out as a private soldier you’ll + want money. It isn’t as if an untravelled man was talkin’ to you. I know + the Black Sea Coast I spent one Febiwerry there, a man before the mast. + I’ll back it again the Pole for cold. You’ll miss a lot o’ comforts, + Polly, as a pound or two would buy for you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I must go back to duty,’ said Polson, ‘or I shall get into hot water.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Take a hundred pound, Polly. It’s clean money. I’ll swear it on my Bible + oath. Look here, Polly. Look here!’ + </p> + <p> + Jervase rose and shook his son by both shoulders in a frenzy. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here, Polly, look here. Listen.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am listening, father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Then look as if you was listening for Heaven’s sake! I’m worth half a + million, if I’m worth a penny. I never owned to it before, but if it isn’t + true God strike me dead. Outside that salt mine, I’ve been an honest man. + You won’t believe it, but I have. I saw a chance of making money + elsewhere, and I wanted a start, and I turned rogue for the sake of it. + Polly, Polly. I’ll pay every penny with a three per cent, interest—compound, + mind you—compound—and I shall be a rich man still! + </p> + <p> + ‘Pol, you’re hard. I don’t know where you get it from. But, mind you! One + of these days you might find yourself led into a temptation, and then + perhaps you’ll think of your old father. How many business men have gone + through life, and never done but one thing as they had a call to be + ashamed of? I’ve done one; and I’ve been bowled out at it! There’s men + that does hundreds, Polly, and are never bowled out at all! I’ll tell you + what. It ain’t me having been dishonourable as stands between us. It’s + your own pride, Polly. It’s a good pride. It’s what you might call a + righteous pride. But if I was just what I am, without being your father—if + I was just what you might call an average old sinner, you wouldn’t let me + beg like this, Polly. No, you wouldn’t! And look here, Polly. Money’s + money, and here’s a thousand pound——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Damn your thousand pounds,’ cried Polson. He turned to face his father in + an agony, and struck his own clenched fist upon his breast three several + times. Then he turned to his original position and stared through the + window across the empty square. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said John Jervase slowly. ‘Damn the thousand pounds. Damn it, and + damn it, and damn it over again. You think I’m trying to bribe you, Polly? + No! You wait till you’re a father, with your only son a-going to the wars + without a penny in his pocket, and hating you too much to take what you + can give him. Then you’ll feel what I feel. Damn the thousand pounds! Damn + all the money as was ever coined. But, Polly, there’s my hand again. I’d + rather you took it full—but won’t you take it empty?’ + </p> + <p> + The lad took the empty hand and wrung it hard, and held it long. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + The time, half-past four o’clock in the morning; the date the twentieth of + September, eighteen hundred and fifty-four; the place the southern bank of + the River Alma. Present, some thirty thousand stalwart British men, the + vast majority of them snoring open-mouthed, and here and there in the grey + of the morning a sentry pacing up and down. Facing northward, Polson + Jer-vase’s regiment lies far to the right, and to the right of it again, + at a distance of some half a mile, the men of Bosquet’s command are also + sleeping. This is a day destined to be famous and terrible in history; but + the dawn is cloudless and quiet. Away beyond the slope of the valley, + across the grey flow of the river and half-way upon the northern slope, + the pacing sentries, or such of them as are sharp-sighted, can perceive + what looks like a wrinkle in the hill. It is some three or maybe four + miles from the long line of sleepers, and it indicates the outlines of + that great Redoubt around which the memories of Englishmen will cling for + centuries to come. + </p> + <p> + Near five o’clock, and a soft warm morning wind blowing under a stainless + sky. Gallopers from headquarters pass here and there with a quiet word, + ‘Wake your men, and make no noise.’ There is no sound of any bugle call at + that <i>reveille</i>, and the men silently arise, sit up and shake + themselves, and mostly make their toilet by a simple process of + eye-rubbing and the assumption of their headgear. Then the camp fires are + lit here and there where a clump of officers gathers together over their + morning tea and coffee. For thus early in the campaign all the luxuries of + home are not abandoned or forgotten. Troop and company orderlies stroll + down to the river, bearing buckets, and the rank and file munch their + ration of ship’s biscuit. And before the simple meal is barely over, the + stealthy word passes along the ranks, and a forward march begins, + ghost-like in the dawn. Somewhat clumsily manoeuvred by their chiefs, the + line, three or four miles in length, dips; down towards the river and + crowds at a few chosen fording places. Then it spreads out again like an + open fan, and marches up the further slope—the infantrymen dripping + from the arm-pits downwards, and the handful of cavalry on the right of + the British flank shining in the rising sun to the horses’ shoulders. + </p> + <p> + Then a pause, and a long pause. Vine yards along the hill and spaces of + field and farm, and scattered houses here and there, and on the left the + village of Vourliouk, set aflame by the foe for some as yet undiscovered + reason. The smoke goes circling up into the pure air, and a faint scent of + burning is discernible. Still a mile and a half away on either side the + great Redoubt, and in front of it there are cubes and oblongs which look + like masses of grey stone, and might pass for such except that now and + again they may be seen to move. These are the infantry troops of Russia, + with whom our own men are soon to be in deadly conflict. The fields of + Europe have heard no sounds of any cannon fired in anger since the last + loud Sabbath of Waterloo shook down the spoilers of the Continent; but, + unseen at this distance, the guns which line that wrinkle of the hill + above there are charged to the throat, and there are resolute men behind + them. + </p> + <p> + The sun rises higher and higher, and the men of the halted army throw + themselves to the ground, awaiting a further word from somebody. Solitary + gallopers go hither and thither, over the rolling hills. The staff, with + waving plumes, goes cantering along the line, and the idea somehow passes + through the ranks that Lord Raglan has gone to consult with Monsieur St. + Arnaud as to the disposition of the day’s battle. There are thousands of + youngsters lying there among the vineyards who have never, until this + moment, set eyes on their commander. Raglan goes by amidst a dropping fire + of cheers, the sleeve of the right arm dangling loose beside him, his + bronzed Roman face one cheerful and inspiring smile, and the cunning left + hand, with which he has learned to write his despatches, held low down as + he controls his charger. And on the far right of the English line, Polson + Jervase is standing at his horse’s head, cheering with the rest, when on a + sudden he discerns a familiar figure: General Boswell is at the Chiefs + side and the two are in familiar converse. The young soldier’s first + battle not yet begun, and Irene’s father going by so near and yet so + unmindful of him as a mere unit among the waiting thousands. And it is not + yet, not even yet, so very certain that we are to give battle this + morning, after all. For we have been bedevilled hither and thither with + false marches and with false rumours of sailing and lines of route. + Monsieur St. Arnaud has been for camping south of the Balkans, and giving + battle to the power of Russia there, and Raglan has been all for the + Crimea and the road to Sevastopol. And no man has known what to believe + amongst the divided councils of the Allies. The men amongst the vineyards + are plucking and sucking the grapes. The sun grows hotter and hotter, and + there is so dreary a silence in these waiting hours that the angry neigh + of a horse is heard for a mile along the line. Five o’clock when we began + to move, and here is high noon, and impatience all on edge, and nothing + done. The staff comes cantering back, and another hour goes by in silence; + and then from the Highlanders half a mile away on the left of the handful + of cavalry there rises a sound of jubilation. And round the camp fires at + night, when the fight is over and the English are in possession of the + field, the men learn the reason of the cry. Sir Colin Campbell has sent + round the word that the men are to break their cartridge packets, and lay + the cartridges loose in their pouches, and this is the first word of real + business. Now at one o’clock, or near it, the note passes along the line + from east to west, and the men are afoot again, and marching forward two + deep against those solid masses of grey human masonry, and that gash upon + the hill-side which is by and by to burst like a volcano into flame. There + goes the first boom of cannon from the Russian side, and a round shot + sends the earth spluttering amidst the staff as it canters by once more, + plumes waving, and epaulets, and scabbards, and gold lace, and all the + fine tinsel of war, as yet unsoiled, glittering in the sunshine. + </p> + <p> + This is no day for a cavalryman to win honour. Here we sit on the + hill-side with a downward slope before us, and an upward slope beyond, and + the unmounted men are working their way onward and upward, whilst we are + held inactive. And now the war begins in earnest. The tartan fellows are + lounging along, half of them with the stem of a grape bunch between their + teeth, loading and firing as they go, scarcely a man of them having stood + fire before, and walking towards their baptism of death and blood with an + astounding cheerfulness, and the long waving broken line converges as if + by instinct, and, as the historians of the battle tell us, without + definite order from any quarter, towards that grim gash on the hillside, + until it grows to be something of a mob, so thickly clustered that the + Russian batteries cleave lines through it. It wavers, it pauses, it rushes + forward, it takes shelter beneath the forehead of the hill on which the + great Redoubt stands, and then declines, a mere swarm of ants to look at + from this distance, towards the belching roar and smoke and flame. And on + a sudden the batteries are silent, and far and far there goes up a cheer. + And then there is silence again, and a long waiting, and the grave massive + oblongs and cubes of masonry come down on this side and on that, and the + watchers in the valley wait in a tense and terrible strain. Where are the + reinforcements? Where is the Duke of Cambridge, with the Guards? Hidden + away there in a wrinkle of the hill they are waiting for some unknown + reason, and the conquerors of the great Redoubt seem doomed. But after + awful minutes and minutes, which stretch to hours, the line sweeps up. + Raglan’s immortal two guns come into play from the knoll on the distant + right, and the tide of battle is turned again. And all the while we of the + cavalry division are maddened with excitement, and consumed by ennui, by + turns, wearied with thirst and heat, and waiting in vain for our chance to + strike a blow at the enemy. Bored and tired and athirst, the men who have + stood for hours at the bridle throw themselves on the sunburned grass. No + chance for us to-day, says one to the other, and the tide of battle, now + grown invisible, is rolling noisily here and there, now seeming as if it + would vanish altogether into the air, and now as if a flying enemy had + suddenly taken heart and were back in swift return. And here is a hill to + the west of us, and the hot sun, yet shining clean and bright through + whiffs and shreds of scattered smoke, goes down behind it, and the shadow + lengthens, and creeps up the brown-green face of the hill to the left. And + lo, on a sudden, a sweating galloper on the crest of the hill, with his + horse one lather from haunch to bridle, is tearing down with orders. Here + is old Stacey in the saddle again, and his hoarse voice is calling. The + tired and thirsty souls are alert in an instant, and away go the Heavy + Dragoons at a walk until the hill is breasted. Then at a trot, a canter, a + gallop, a charge. For the masses of the enemy are all huddled in + disorderly crowds away there in the pass, and it needs but one decisive + blow to smite them into utter rout and scatter them like chaff. Then was + an hour when the fate of a great campaign lay in the balance; and because + that hour was not chosen England had to pour out her blood and her + treasure in one mingled torrent for a year or two. For as the charging + regiment was in amongst the lingerers of the retreat, the pursuit was + called away. The keener spirits had naturally ridden furthest, and there + was no man there that day who was keener than Polson Jervase. When the + bugles rang out the ‘Retire,’ he would, had he been in command, have + risked a plagiarism of Nelson, with a glass at the blind eye, and would + have failed to recognise the recalling signal. But he was a unit, and a + private unit at that. And he was already half emmeshed amidst the edges of + the flying crowd, and actually at their mercy, if any of the fugitives had + found so much as a sheep’s heart to awake within him. + </p> + <p> + So he turned and galloped back, and since he had been one of the first in + the advance, he was naturally one of the last to retreat. There had been a + rare burst of a downhill mile or two, and his horse, unfed and unwatered + within the last twelve hours, was in need of mercy. He rode the poor beast + tenderly, caressing him as he went, and looking up he was aware of an + officer in staff uniform, who was rounding up the stragglers. There are + few things that appeal more directly from man to man than the sympathy of + the sound and rooted sportsman. Polson had followed the hounds almost from + the time when he could first bestride a pony; and the sight of a clean + workman across bad country was like wine to him at any time. This fellow + in the cocked hat and waving plumes was splendidly mounted, to be sure, + but the going was as treacherous and difficult as it well could be, and + the horseman rode with an address and daring which were delightful to look + at. He waved an urgent hand from three or four hundred yards away towards + Polson, who responded by a gesture indicating the route he meant to take. + The last straggler having been thus rounded up, the officer turned and + reined in his charger for a final look at the retreating forces of the + enemy; and somewhere from the black middle mass of them down in the shadow + of the valley there came a flash and a volley of smoke, and almost + directly afterwards an echoing boom of sound. The charger reared, drooped + upon his haunches, and fell over; the rider dropped with admirable agility + on one side and avoided the threatened mischief of the fall. There were + scores of unmastered steeds racing about the valley and the upward slopes; + Polson rode for the nearest, and, having secured it, cantered up to the + place where the dead charger lay, A round shot had ploughed its way clean + through the noble creature’s chest, and the sight was pitiable and + gruesome. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here is a mount, sir,’ said the young dragoon. ‘Not as good as your own, + but it will carry you back to camp, anyhow.’ + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, the epauletted cocked-hatted owner of the slaughtered charger + was leaning downward, detaching something from a holster, and when he + looked up he displayed the features of Major de Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + Until that instant neither could have recognised the other, but at the + first glance there was a challenge in the eyes of either. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thanks, my man,’ said De Blacquaire, laying a hand upon the rein which + Polson held out towards him. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could have been more savagely incisive than the tone, nothing more + purposed to wound. + </p> + <p> + ‘You caught this horse rather cleverly,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘and I’m very + much obliged to you. Of course, you understand that a man doesn’t go into + action with a lot of money about him; but if you’ll ask for me at + headquarters this evening, Major de Blacquaire, you’ll find + half-a-sovereign waiting for you. You can ask my man for it.’ + </p> + <p> + The Major stood drawling there, with purposed insult in word and tone and + smile, and Polson, leaning downward, drew his dragoon’s gauntlet from the + left hand, and struck him across the face with it. + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘that’s flat mutiny, and whilst I am about it, + here’s another sample of the same.’ + </p> + <p> + The Major retreated behind his horse, and stood there, almost speechless + with indignation. + </p> + <p> + ‘I threatened you with a hiding once before,’ said Polson. ‘And you were + cur enough to run away. I told you on the day I joined that if we ever met + again and by word or look or gesture you insulted me, I would spoil that + handsome face of yours. You can report against me, if you like, and I dare + say that if you do it may go pretty hard with me. But I will let you off + for the moment with what you have taken, and for the present I will say + good evening to you.’ + </p> + <p> + He drew on his gauntlet as he spoke, and turned his horse’s head. + </p> + <p> + ‘Wait there,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘I have just one word to say to you. You + know that I could have you triced to the triangle and flogged?’ Polson + nodded, but said nothing. His eyes spoke for him. ‘You know I could have + you court-martialled and shot?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Like enough,’ said Polson. Major de Blacquaire swung into the saddle. ‘I + don’t care to take revenge that way,’ he said. ‘I have known you always + for an impudent and underbred young cub; but you go by way of pretending + to be a gentleman, and I have my punishment in store for you. I learned + something of you from your friend, Captain Volnay, and amongst other + things I find you are playing Quixote. When the campaign is over you’ll be + going back to the old thief’s thousands. I will give you a gaol-bird to go + back to. I have at quarters what amounts to a confession. It’s an offer of + restitution from Mr. Jervase; and I am not disposed to accept it. The case + must slumber until this little business is over; but when I get back I + will make a criminal prosecution of it, and you may make up your mind for + whatever it may be worth that the work of this last five minutes has made + a felon of that blackguard of a father.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And that,’ said Polson, ‘is an English officer’s answer to a blow!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘that is the English officer’s answer.’ And so + saying, he put in spurs and rode away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + Here we are, fifteen months later, with Balaclava and Inkerman behind us, + and the world ringing with the story of our valour; and something here and + there being said about the staring incapacity of our commanders and the + crass dishonesty and stupidity of our contractors. The army which left + home in such bright array is transformed to a crowd of ragged vagabonds, + and all the services are mixed together in the trenches and the camps + before Sevastopol. Here are men of the Horse Artillery whose batteries + have lost their horses; and here are cavalrymen dismounted, whether by + reason of warlike misadventure or the sheer starvation of horseflesh. And + since folks must do something for their bread in campaigning times, as at + more peaceful seasons, the rules and regulations of special branches of + the military service are cast aside, and men of every arm are working in + the trenches together. A crowd of vagabonds we are to look at, to be sure; + but a year of war, if you only think of it, makes a boy a veteran, and the + bronzed, weatherbeaten, and ragged lads of whom the army is in the main + composed, have lived in an atmosphere of powder for a year past; have gone + marching and counter-marching under shot and shell; and charging, and + repelling charges, until the imminent peril of their lives is a great deal + more familiar to them than their daily bread. The peril is there always, + and the bread turns up with extreme fitfulness. + </p> + <p> + On the Christmas Eve of ‘fifty-five there was a time of excitement in the + second parallel before the Malakoff; and this was not because of any + special danger of the siege or any threatened imminent assault, but simply + and merely because of the late slaughter of a pig of tender age whose + screams had come up from the Turkish camp about the witching hour of + midnight. + </p> + <p> + Amongst the war-worn, ragged, bronzed and bearded crowd is that identical + Paddy who reckoned his uniform the livery of his degradation when he first + assumed it. He is as ragged as any Connemara harvester by this time, and + as tanned, as plucky, and as impudent in the face of death and hardship as + he knows how to stick; and it is he who has brought the news which + flutters the spirits of the score of men who are huddled in the trench + together, right beneath the gaping embrasure of the Russian guns. + </p> + <p> + It was near midnight, and an extreme languor of fatigue had fallen upon + all men when the tattered slip of Hibernian nobility crawled up on hands + and knees so as not to expose himself against the sky-line, and dropped + into his own place in the trench. He dropped with his feet on the stomach + of Sergeant Polson Jervase, who denounced his clumsiness in fair set + terms, which came as pat to his lips as if he had rehearsed them for a + year. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that you?’ said Paddy. ‘I beg yer pardon, and be damned to you. And + now will ye just listen? D’ye hear the death cry?’ + </p> + <p> + Everybody heard the death cry, filling the air from barely a third of a + mile away: the voice of pork at the last agony. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Lord alone knows where it’s come from, but that Mussulman crush down + below has got hold of a pig. The devil a ration has been served to them + for a month past, and they ought to know what hunger means be this time. + But bhoys,’ the speaker went on, with a whispered emphasis, ‘we’re + Christian men, I hope, and we can’t dream of allowing those poor infidels + to peril their immortal salvation by the eating of strange food. It’s + eternal loss to the soul of a Mussulman that puts a knife and fork into a + griskin. And I’m proposin’ a work of Christian charity. Have ye got the + matayrials for a fire handy?’ + </p> + <p> + One of the men sleepily bade him be damned, and turned over in the mud in + a scrap of ragged blanket; but all the rest at the bare suggestion of a + meal were wide awake. ‘Sergeant, darlin’, just be giving me half-a-dozen + men and we will make an exploitation, and be back in no time with a meal + of meat that ought to be good enough for this particular mess from now + till New Year’s Day. Is there any chance of a fire now?’ + </p> + <p> + A member of the hungry, hard-bitten band owned a solitary lucifer; but was + afraid that the damp had deprived it of all virtue. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hurry up, boys,’ said one. ‘If once those blessed Bazouks get a fork into + piggy, we shall have to fight for a share of him.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ve got the makings of a fire here somewhere,’ said the man with the + solitary lucifer. ‘But how are we to start it? This brushwood stuff is all + wet, and it won’t catch.’ + </p> + <p> + But one man was there with a providential scrap of newspaper. There was a + moon in the frosty sky, with tatters of windy cloud about it, which gave + light enough to show the men each others’ faces dimly, and they all + clustered in a rough ring, some kneeling, some standing, and the centre of + the throng was the man with the match. Near him, second only in + importance, was the man with the newspaper, and kneeling near was a third + who stirred up the loose brushwood below the heaped fuel which had been + gathered and hoarded for a month past for a Christmas fire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Here’s a dry pebble,’ said one man, pressing solicitously forward, and + proffering his midnight find to the man with the match. ‘Strike her on + that, and for God’s sake hold your breath, boys.’ + </p> + <p> + The human centre of interest, the man with the match, took the pebble and + polished it to complete dryness on the lining of his overcoat. Then he + struck the match, which emitted a faint phosphorescent glow, and went dark + again. + </p> + <p> + In those days, when a Russian gunner felt aweary, and found a lack of + interest in the crawling hours of darkness, he would let bang a gun from + the Redoubt, simply <i>pour passer le temps</i>; and at this minute the + skipping ‘zip’ of a shot, a splutter of earth, and then the sullen boom of + the discharge came to give variation to the scene. The lucifer match, + however, was the all-absorbing centre of interest just then, and the + scratch on the pebble was a much more important sound than any bellow of + cannon from the fort. The lucifer was barely equal to its duties, and + half-a-dozen times it gave its feeble spark of phosphorescent light in + vain; but at last it struck, and the blue and yellow sulphur bubbled and + crackled into flame. The man with the newspaper was ready, and caught the + fire. The wet twigs smoked pungently, and there was one heart-sinking + moment when the last chance seemed to have vanished; but then the fire + sparkled up merrily, and the blaze lit the earthen side of the trench and + the silky-bearded, bronzed, unwashed faces, and the stalwart, tattered + figures of the crowd, with a flickering changeful brightness. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s all right, boys,’ said the Honourable Patrick Erroll, Private of + Dragoons. ‘And now, Sergeant darlin’, give me half-a-dozen rank and file, + and, please God, well have a meal for Christmas morning.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now, I’m just as keen as any one of you,’ said Sergeant Jervase, ‘and + just as hungry; but be very quiet about the business, Paddy, and don’t + have a row with the Bashis, for the Lord’s sake.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Trust me, Sergeant,’ said the Honourable Mr. Erroll, ‘and nurse the fire + whilst we’re away.’ + </p> + <p> + Out of the blank darkness of the night the flame and glow from the second + parallel seemed to bite a hole; and as its brightness grew, it drew the + attention of the gunners of the Malakoff, who banged at it sulkily from + time to time. But the reckless contingent under Paddy’s leadership had + already clambered to the open and were making a muddy way in the darkness + towards the Turkish camp. + </p> + <p> + Down in the trench the fire grew to a rich and splendid glow, and one or + two of the favoured of fortune, who owned pipes and tobacco, plucked + bright embers from it, and, nestling under the shelter of the wall, sucked + away at their comfort with simple animal noises of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, Bill,’ says one, ‘was you ever Hingry before you seen this + Gawd-forsaken Crimea?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Lor’ love yer,’ says the man questioned, ‘I was born hungry, and I’ve + been hungry ever since. But if the Honourable Paddy finds that ‘og, and I + get hold of a hind leg of him, I won’t complain before to-morrow + midnight.’ + </p> + <p> + The fire glowed with a richer and a richer light, and men of hospitable + minds wiped their half-smoked clays on the inside crook of a coated elbow + and passed on luxury and refreshment to less-favoured neighbours. It was a + time for comradeship, if only for the fact that it was Christmas Eve, and + coming fast towards Christmas morning. But the thought of the slain porker + was in all men’s minds, and made them expansive and generous and reserved + by turns. Boom! said the gun from the Redoubt, and the earth spluttered + between the collar of Sergeant Polson’s jacket and his neck, and dribbled + comfortlessly down his back, colder than any charity he had known of: + lately-frozen earth, half thawed, with wet snow on the top of it, and a + sulky boom behind to add a threat to its cold sting. + </p> + <p> + After long waiting, a voice in ecstatic laughter, and surely the voice of + the Honourable Paddy, Shuffling footsteps in the dark, and the hungriest + of the whole crowd in the trench climbing to peer into the blackness; a + youth who has not yet finished growing, and who finds the irregularity of + meals a cruel thing. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’d like to know,’ says the Honourable Mr. Erroll cheerfully, ‘who + trusted those infernal Russians with a gun? They’ll be hurting somebody by + and by, if they’re not careful. But here’s the pig, boys, and there’s + nobody but poor little Ahmed Bey the worse for us. I knocked him on the + head from behind, and we’ll be none the worse friends to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + Bang, and bang, and bang! sounded the guns from the Russian battery, drawn + by the light; but a delicious odour rose upon the air, and the teeth of + the little contingent watered. There was a ramrod with Sergeant Polson at + one end of it, and Paddy Erroll at the other, and the loveliest loin of + young pork in the middle; and the two, with scorched hands and scorched + faces, turned, and turned, and turned the improvised spit. And there were + some less nice in appetite who had raked out heaps of glowing cinders from + the fire, and had lain succulent slices thereon and buried them in more + cinders, and who were now enjoying a compound feast of pork and charcoal, + with such an insane relish as no home-staying epicure could conceive over + the lordliest dish the combined cuisine of the whole wide world could show + him. + </p> + <p> + ‘What are you up to here, you fellows?’ said a voice out of the darkness. + ‘That’s a jolly appetising smell.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Fresh roast pork, sir,’ responded one man with his mouth full. + </p> + <p> + ‘Fresh roast pork!’ echoed the inquirer. ‘Hillo—that you, Sergeant? + You’re in luck. I’ll join your mess if you make no objection.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Nobody more welcome than Captain Volnay, sir,’ said Polson. ‘Find that + old bread-box, one of you, and give Captain Volnay a seat.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hurry up!’ said Volnay. ‘That smell is maddening. How did you men come in + for such a treasure trove as this?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m Columbus,’ said the Honourable Paddy, tinning the ramrod spit. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, by Jingo!’ cried Volnay, ‘you’ve got a whole pig here. I say, + Sergeant, I’m going to confiscate a leg for our Christmas mess. You don’t + think you fellows are going to be allowed to sit gourmandising here whilst + we go hungry!’ + </p> + <p> + One man, sheltered by the shadow, answered sneeringly: + </p> + <p> + ‘Precious little going hungry amongst your set, sir,’ said he. + </p> + <p> + ‘And precious little you know about it, my good fellow,’ Volnay answered, + with his sunny laugh. ‘Life isn’t all beer and skittles amongst your + officers, let me tell you.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’d like to change, sir,’ said the malcontent. + </p> + <p> + ‘Would you?’ asked the Captain. ‘Well, I dare say you would. But we all + have enough to grumble at, and to spare, if we happen to be built that + way. Just expedite that joint, Sergeant.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It will be all the better for another turn or two, sir,’ said Polson. + ‘It’s a deadly pity, but there’s no such thing as a hint of crackling. + Piggy came along with his bristles on, and we have no shaving tackle.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Who goes there?’ cried a voice in the darkness, two score yards away. + </p> + <p> + ‘Grand rounds,’ said another voice. It was Major de Blacquaire’s, and + Polson had not heard it since the day of the Alma, a year and three months + ago. + </p> + <p> + ‘Halt, grand rounds, and give the countersign.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Bonnie Dundee.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Pass, grand rounds, and all’s well.’ + </p> + <p> + Grand rounds came tramping down the trench and the men about the fire rose + up and stood to attention. + </p> + <p> + ‘What is this?’ asked De Blacquaire. ‘Who’s in charge here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am, sir,’ Polson answered, saluting. + </p> + <p> + ‘What’s the meaning of this blaze here? Can’t you see that you’re drawing + the enemy’s fire? Report yourself to me at noon to-morrow. Scatter that + stuff, and trample it out.’ + </p> + <p> + A foot was thrust into the embers, and they flared up suddenly. The Major + recognised his enemy, and looked from his eyes to the stripes upon the + left sleeve of his ragged overcoat. + </p> + <p> + ‘Is that your own coat?’ he asked. ‘Yes, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Sergeant are you? I’ll break you for this to-morrow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That you, old chap?’ drawled Volnay from his seat on the bread-box. ‘Said + you were dead. We’ve got no end of a find here. Whole pig. If you’ll let + me know where to find you, I’ve bagged a ham, and I’ll invite myself to + dine with you, and bring my own rations with me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Thaanks,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘Don’t trouble. I shall find it my duty to + report this scene of riot and disorder. Forward. March.’ + </p> + <p> + Grand rounds went by, and the scattered fire faded. + </p> + <p> + ‘If you <i>can</i> manage to hack a slice of that pork off, Sergeant!’ + said Volnay, ‘I’m beastly hungry.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Done, I think, to a turn,’ said Polson. ‘Who’s got anything that will + cut?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I’m tould, sir,’ said a voice out of the darkness, with a rich oily + brogue in it, ‘that there’s hours of difference between here and Limerick. + Won’t it be Christmas morning in old Ireland, sir? And will the bells be + ringing?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ye’re out in your reckonin’,’ said another voice amid the shadows. ‘It’s + exactly the other way. Your folks is going to bed in Limerick. The sun has + a knack of risin’ in the east, my lad, and we’re far east of Ireland, or + Aberdeen for that matter. I’m not mindin’ the exact particulars, but it’s + a matter of some two hours, I’m thinking. It’s deep midnight here, and an + hour or so beyond it, and they’ll be over their punchbowls, yonner. That’s + so, sir, I’m believin’?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know, upon my word,’ said Volnay. ‘You’re out of my depth, my + lad. But it’s a bit of a sin to talk about punch-bowls, isn’t it, on a + night like this, when there isn’t a hot drink within a hundred miles? + Sergeant, this pork is like manna in the wilderness. Look me up before you + report yourself to Major de Blacquaire, will you? I’m responsible for the + fire, you understand. It was my duty to retire the whole crowd of you + under arrest, I know, but there isn’t a lot of fun going for you beggars + here, is there? Goodnight, Sergeant, and don’t forget the hour in the + morning.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Good-night, sir.’ ‘God go with you, sir.’ ‘A merry Christmas and a loight + harrut to you, sir, for many a year.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s your man, nah, Sergeant,’ said one man out of the shadow in a tone + that was learned in Rotherham, or very near it. ‘Ah like Captain Volnay as + mooch as ah like anybody. He’s got a kind of a way with him an’ he sits + dahn with the like of huz, and he talks to us as if we was men in place o’ + bein’ cattle, which is the way with most on ‘em. Here’s good luck to + Captain Volnay, an’ if ah’d got a glass o’ that steamin’ poonch they’n got + in Aberdeen, ode bird, ah’d scald <i>my</i> throat with a relish.’ + </p> + <p> + They were all full of roast pork, or of pork more or less roasted, and the + scent of the sacrifice was yet in the air, and their war-bitten souls were + cheered and warmed, if ever so little. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yis,’ said one lad, ‘if half the quality knowed!’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Hallo!’ said Polson, turning in the fragrant dark. ‘How far from Bilston + were <i>you</i> born?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wedgebury,’ said the voice. ‘No furder.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Beacon Hargate, me,’ said Polson. ‘I’d ha’ guessed it, Sergeant. I’d ha’ + guessed it. I niver heerd your voice afore to-night, but there’s a kind of + a turn of the tongue in it now and then.’ + </p> + <p> + The contingent fell to silence, and a wet clinging snow began, ruled in + straight lines. The embers of the fire hissed under it, and the men drew + themselves into such shelter as they could find, and waited in the grey, + cold patience for the expected relief from duty. It was long in coming, + and they learned afterwards that the regimental Sergeant-major, whose duty + it ought to have been to relieve them on that Christmas morning, was dead + from dysentery, poor fellow, and as a matter of fact it turned out that he + was buried in the muddy earth and half frozen in there before anybody + remembered to take up his duty. + </p> + <p> + The long, long night went on, and the Russian gunner, finding his + attention no longer drawn to the distant fire, had gone to sleep or anyhow + fallen silent, when a witching noise rose upon the air, and all the worn, + half-sleeping men sat up to listen. Surely there was the sound of church + bells, and there was a rush towards the pleasant noise. It was only a man + from the smithy who happened to have a musical ear and had rigged up a + kind of gallows from which he had hung carbine and rifle barrels of + varying lengths and calibre, on the which he was beating with an iron rod. + The sulky dull beginning of the dawn on Christmas Day, and there in the + trenches the Christmas bells ringing as they might have rung in any + village church in old England, two thousand miles away. And the hearts of + the listeners rose to their throats, and men were quiet whilst the music + sounded. The notes reached far, and fell on many a drowsy ear, conjuring + up visions in the half-slumbering minds of humble whitewashed village + steeples, far and far away. Polson’s contingent, drawn from a distance of + some two hundred yards, stuffed that ingenious musician with half-cold + roast pork, and left him well rewarded for his toils. + </p> + <p> + By one of those surprising fatuities which distinguished this particular + campaign almost above all others in which the English private soldier has + been engaged, an attack which was ordered for black midnight was ready + just in the grey of dawn, and Polson’s ear caught a whispered word of + command here and there, and a noise of careful footsteps. The trench of + the second parallel was ten feet deep, but there was a ladder of + foot-holes just behind him, and he turned and climbed, digging his fingers + into the half-frozen turf on the Russian side. There was the grim Redoubt + at which the English guns had hammered in vain this many and many a day, + still solidly silhouetted against the clearing sky of morning, dark and + lowering, quiet as death and yet from old experience holding a threat in + the entrails of it. The men—three or four thousand of them, as one + might guess—climbed into the trench of the first parallel and were + lost to sight. They emerged crouching, and raced across the space which + intervened between them and the second, where Polson’s own post lay. They + were down like a dumb wind on the one side and up again on the other, and + raced, crouching, for the first, into which they again disappeared. The + man who shouldered Polson from his place, and whose face as he went by + might be distinctly seen, was Major de Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Leading a forlorn hope, you devil, are you?’ said the Sergeant to + himself; but the words were silent, and he felt a simple throb of + admiration for the set mouth and resolute eyes of the man who had climbed + past him, and wished himself in his place. + </p> + <p> + The racing, crouching crowd had dived into the foremost trench and had + reappeared again before it was discerned by the Russian sentries; but a + hundred yards away from the foot of the glacis, the whole advance was + caught and swept and twisted, as by a whirlwind, by a hail of gunshot, + canister and rifle fire. The half-melted, new-fallen snow clung to the + sloping glacis of the Redoubt, and made a greyish background of dim light + against which a watcher could perceive not only the whole motion of the + line, but the gesture of any single figure in it. Hate and interest and + admiration alike prompted Polson’s eyes to follow the slim, active figure + with the waving sword which silently beckoned on his followers. The + Redoubt opened, as it were, with an earthquake crash, and all the black + front of it went fiery red and yellow, and at the first discharge of this + inferno, the figure with the flourished sabre in his right hand fell + prone. The double line of the invaders shook and wavered from right to + left, and men dropped amongst them as if the scythe of Death were + literally sweeping there. The lines advanced, wavered, paused, turned, + turned again, advanced again with mad cheering, scarce heard amid the + rattle of musketry and the roaring of the guns; and finally broke and ran, + utterly routed. The onlooker had no part in this conflict except to bite + and ram down a cartridge or two and to send a shot more or less at random + into the black oblong of the opposing fort; but clinging with his feet on + that precarious muddy ladder, and with his elbows to the frozen turf, he + saw clearly the convulsive gesture with which De Blacquaire lifted his + sabre in a last effort to wave on his men. + </p> + <p> + Man is a very complex creature, and he will not be finally analysed and + done with until this planet is very much older than it was in the + nineteenth Christian century. Whether it was hate, or personal pride, or a + sudden flash of admiration for a man whom he had hitherto despised, Polson + Jervase could not have told you to his dying day. + </p> + <p> + But though the motives which inspired him were very wildly mixed and very + uncertain in their origin, there is no doubt whatever as to the deed to + which amongst themselves they inspired him that Christmas morning. The + Malakoff belched hell. The flying crowds hustled him and threw him twice + or thrice. But he was on his feet again, racing towards that prone figure. + He dropped into the front trench and trod upon a wounded man who screamed + beneath his heel, and climbed out on the further side. The air was musical + with hooting shell and singing shot and hissing bullet as if a whole + diabolic orchestra were fiddling and bugling. Polson found the fallen body + of his foe, and hugged it in his arms, and raced back as hard as he could + tear. He tumbled into the trench of the first parallel almost anyhow; but + he gripped the man he hated, and in his soul was a great rejoicing. He + tore up the opposite side, and came out upon the open slope again, with + the unconscious man still in his arms. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ll ruin me, you devil!’ said Polson, as he ran breathlessly with the + wind of shot and shell in his ears. ‘And I’m to report myself to you + to-morrow, am I? We may report ourselves to Almighty God together, but <i>you</i> + are safe for the minute, I guess.’ + </p> + <p> + He was within a yard of his own post when these mad exaltations of an + excited fancy crossed his mind, and at that instant a musket shot took him + in the neck and he fell with his burden into the trench before him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + We swoop, as it were, to the skies, and we drop, as it were, to the very + sea bed, and we are seasick to the souls of us, one and all; and of the + five hundred men the staunch boat carries, there are a round four hundred + and fifty wounded, and a round four hundred who will never see the skies + with conscious eyes again. We are bound for Scutari, where an enlightened + intelligence, awakened at last to some beginning of elementary necessity, + has established a hospital; for Government, as usual in such matters, + after five hundred years of more or less victorious prowling to and fro in + the world and more of gathered experience than any other body of men ever + had in the history of the world, has positively made up its mind to + shelter broken bones and sick bodies from the mere inclemencies of the + weather. + </p> + <p> + It would not have done so much had it not been for the intervention of a + lady whose name deserves to be immortal so long as the British Empire + paints itself red upon the map; but Florence Nightingale had enlisted the + sympathy of English hearts more quickly than the Queen’s shilling had + enlisted fighting men, and the Crimean hospitals were the centre of a + thousand human interests. The authorities had somehow caught and impounded + the good ship <i>Cæsar</i> at Odessa, and had despatched it to a desert + bay with no landing place or chartered sounding, near Ouklacool Aides, + and, having loaded it there with wounded, had ordered it across to the + Black Sea and down the Dardanelles. The stout Ayrshire heart of the + captain was sick and sore within him many a time on that grim voyage, for + before it was half over he had spent his last round shot on board and his + last bit of spare canvas in the sewing up and weighting of men who were + fated to be buried in the deep. + </p> + <p> + Amongst those who escaped this dreary fate were Polson Jervase and the + enemy he had rescued at so grave a risk of his own life, and they two, + with about one half the original human cargo of the ship, reached Scutari, + and were landed there, and carried into hospital. A rough sea voyage in + January weather in the Black Sea affords no pleasant nurture for a wounded + man, and the poor fellows who were carried or helped ashore were a + pitiable crew indeed. Neither Polson nor his enemy was conscious at the + hour of landing, or had been truly conscious throughout the whole of the + long and trying voyage. They were lowered in their stretchers from the + ship’s side to the caiques which were brought alongside, pulled to the + shore and carried by hand to the hospital. They were luckier in this + respect than the majority of the men, who were huddled into the straw of + the lumbering octagonal-wheeled arabas. The rustic Turk had not yet + mastered the art, even if he has mastered it to-day, of constructing a + cartwheel in a circle. He makes it eight-sided, and builds his vehicles + without springs, and the wounded went along the vile road with a compound + jolt for every foot of ground they traversed. There are men yet living who + remember that piercing scene, and the cries which were wrung from the + hearts of the stoutest fighting men in the world along that <i>via + dolorosa</i>. It happened that the rescued and the rescuer were laid side + by side, each on a bed some twenty inches in width; and there they were + tended many days before either of them awoke to a real knowledge of his + surroundings. In their waking hours they babbled deliriously, the pair of + them, letting out the secrets of their very souls, if anybody had been + there to listen. Day by day, and night by night, Polson, as he remembered + afterwards, heard the best loved voice in the world from time to time, and + sometimes with it and sometimes alone the voice he hated most. The wind + was blowing the rain against the windows of the grey-stone house on Beacon + Hill, and Irene and his father were whispering secrets together in the + parlour. Then De Blacquaire was chattering there and saying all manner of + things which were not pertinent to the case in hand, and Irene was + answering him. John Jervase was talking by turns to all three, and was + sometimes absurdly sentimental, dropping tears on the listener’s upturned + face. All this was so strange and confused, so much a dream of delirium, + that when at last the sufferer awoke to reason, he attached no meaning to + it. + </p> + <p> + It was the 1st of February, as he found out afterwards, and he had been + crazy for five weeks. He stared feebly up at the ceiling and wondered as + to his whereabouts. He tried to lift a hand, but he might have worn a + gauntlet of lead, it felt so heavy; though, when at last he struggled into + a changed posture, it looked as if it were made of egg-shell porcelain, it + was so thin and worn. + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder,’ he said within himself—and this was his first conscious + thought, ‘I wonder if I saved that sweep.’ And then at his side he heard + De Blacquaire’s voice. + </p> + <p> + ‘Thank you,’ it was saying. ‘You’re awfully sweet and kind, and I’m very + much obliged to you. That is much easier.’ + </p> + <p> + Polson was greatly interested, but in the very act of turning over to look + at his enemy, and to find out whom he was addressing, he fell into a deep + sleep. The next time he came back to consciousness it was dark, except for + a sickly burning oil lamp on a sconce fixed against a wall at a little + distance. He began to be aware of the fact that he was amazingly hungry, + and the memory of what he imagined to have been his last meal came back to + him. He laughed feebly, and he spoke. + </p> + <p> + ‘I wonder what the beggars did with the rest of that pig.’ + </p> + <p> + There was the sound beside him as of an emotional snuffle, and John + Jervase blew his nose resoundingly, so that Polson knew that his father + was there before the old man bent his head above him. He was too weak to + be surprised at anything, and had no earthly notion as to his own + whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, you’ve come round again, Polly,’ said his father. ‘You know me, + don’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + It was in Polson’s mind to return a hearty nod in the affirmative, but all + he managed to do was to close his eyes and open them again. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, that’s hearty!’ said Jervase, smoothing the bedclothes above him + with a tremulous hand. ‘That’s hearty, old chap. They said you wouldn’t + pull through, but I knew better all along. Now, you was to take this, if + you woke up, and you’ve got to keep very still and quiet. This is the very + best beef tea as you can get for love or money in all Asia Minor. You let + me tuck this napkin under your chin, Polly, and I’ll feed you with a + golden tablespoon. You’d ‘ardly believe it, but I bought this in Vienna on + my way out here, and it used to belong to the Empress Catherine of + Rooshia, and I gave a twenty-pun’ note for it, and it’s got her monogram. + You don’t mind me chattering, old chap, but I don’t want to excite you, + and it’s the doctor’s orders that I mustn’t; but it’s pretty nigh on two + years now since I set eyes on you, and when you get stronger and begin to + walk about again, I shall have a heap of things to tell you.’ + </p> + <p> + The wounded man lay face upwards, and sipped at the tepid liquid presented + to his lips with a huge physical enjoyment. In his whole life he had never + conceived of so complete a pleasure. Only the convalescent knows the joys + of the table. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the last spoonful, Polly,’ said John Jervase, wiping the pale lips + with the napkin he had tucked beneath the invalid’s chin at the beginning + of the meal. ‘You’d like more, wouldn’t you?’ + </p> + <p> + Folson tried to nod again, and again achieved nothing more than a lowering + and raising of the eyelids. + </p> + <p> + ‘You haven’t got to have it, you know, old chap. You’ve got to be kept + hungry. It’s been touch and go for weeks, but you’ll be all right now, if + we take care of you. And I reckon we’ll do that amongst us.’ + </p> + <p> + A weary voice rose from the neighbouring bed. + </p> + <p> + ‘Stop that infernal cackle, whoever you are, and let me sleep. Don’t you + know better than to make a row like that in a hospital?’ + </p> + <p> + Once more Polson—this time wide awake—was conscious of the + voice of his enemy. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s all right,’ his father whispered. ‘I’ll come back next time you’ve + got to be fed, old chap, but he doesn’t like me, and he’s been down on me + a hundred times already.’ + </p> + <p> + The sick man stared at the ceiling where the oil lamp in its sconce on the + wall had made a smoky semi-circle, and where the yellow light now slept + upon the whitewash within the limits of the smoked half-ring. He was too + weak to think very deeply, and too weak to feel very strongly; but the + sense of home within his mind, and the father was the father, and the + voice and the hand had never been unkind since he could remember, and the + scorn and passion of his heart had somehow worn away, and he was not angry + or contemptuous or full of hatred as he had been. + </p> + <p> + Jervase leaned over him in a momentary farewell, and Polson saw that the + old man’s eyes were full of tears. One dropped plump and warm on the tip + of his own nose, and there was something comic and touching in the fact, + and he giggled and snuffled over it to the verge of a weak hysteria. + </p> + <p> + ‘I wasn’t to disturb you, Polly,’ said Jervase, ‘and I’m misbehaving + myself. I’ve got to go, and you’ve got to go to sleep; but I’ll be back as + soon as ever they’ll let me, and in a day or two’s time you’ll be strong + enough for you and me to have a talk together.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I wish,’ said the feeble, drawling voice from the neighbouring bed, ‘that + you would hold your tongue or go. I want to sleep.’ + </p> + <p> + John Jervase stooped to kiss Polson on the forehead, and went his way down + the silent ward, with his boots creaking with a fainter and fainter sound, + until he reached the folding doors at the far end of the dormitory. + </p> + <p> + The lad lay quiet. He had parted with his father in bitter disdain and + anger, but somehow these emotions had all departed from him by this time, + and had left him as if they had been an evil spirit, banished by some + better influence. He did not know—he was too weak and tired to think + about things—but at his side there was an angry stirring and a + peevish voice spoke to him. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s you, is it?’ + </p> + <p> + Polson, a little strengthened by the food he had taken, managed to roll + round upon his shoulder, and looked his late enemy in the face. + </p> + <p> + ‘It’s I,’ he said. ‘Indubitably. And it’s you, to a certainty. Where did + you get hit?’ + </p> + <p> + There was so long a silence that each thought that the other had fallen + asleep; but when it had endured for perhaps the space of twenty minutes, + De Blacquaire began to turn and murmur, and at last his words found an + articulate form. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say,’ he began, ‘you there! You! Sergeant! Are you awake?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wide,’ said Polson. + </p> + <p> + The man beside him lay with pallid face and big bird-like eyes, staring at + the smoked semi-circle on the ceiling, and after the inquiry he had + offered and the answer given, there was silence again, whilst a man might + have counted twenty. + </p> + <p> + ‘They’ve told me all about it,’ said Major de Blacquaire, ‘and I don’t + understand it. + </p> + <p> + And I want to understand. What in the name of hell did you fetch me out + for?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You go to sleep,’ said Polson, ‘and don’t ask ridiculous questions.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I want to know,’ said De Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ll tell you to-morrow,’ the Sergeant answered. ‘But it’s no good + thinking about things just now.’ + </p> + <p> + Again there was a silence, and it lasted for a full hour. The rank + petroleum lamp in the sconce burnt out and left a sickening stench upon + the air. The whole space in which the wounded men lay went dark, and the + wild free wind and the cruel driving rain beat at the window. In the black + darkness voices spoke here and there. There were notes of fever from + wounded men, and once or twice there was a last message whispered to a + nurse’s ear, never to be delivered. Dark and storm, and the heroic + long-suffering soul released from the heroic long-suffering body, and + going home at midnight. + </p> + <p> + Sick men who have been half-starved for a year or two, and who have run + through every note of the gamut of emotion, may be quicker to appreciate + these influences than common people are: but Polson Jervase, lying on his + back and staring upwards in a futile endeavour to trace the semi-circular + ring of smoke upon the ceiling, felt them all deeply. + </p> + <p> + Whilst he lay there, staring upwards, there was a sudden patter of bare + feet on the bare floor at his side, and a hand clutched him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here,’ said Major de Blacquaire, and even in his half dream he knew + the voice instantly, as if he had been wide awake and the room had lain in + broad daylight. ‘Look here, what the devil did you do it for?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Get back into bed,’ said Polson, ‘and I’ll try to talk to you.’ + </p> + <p> + The beds were not more than twenty inches in width, and there was barely a + foot between them, so that a man by the stretching of a hand could touch a + comrade. + </p> + <p> + Out of the dark, to the Sergeant’s intense surprise, there came a groping + hand, which sought his own, and found it and Clutched it. + </p> + <p> + ‘What the devil did you do it for?’ said De Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Well,’ said the wounded Sergeant, ‘it’s pretty hard to say. I suppose + it’s a mixed-up kind of thing altogether. I saw you drop, and you promised + to break me in the morning, and if I’d let your chance go by, d’ye see——’ + </p> + <p> + ‘See! ‘said De Blacquaire, holding on to the hand in the darkness. ‘You’re + not half a bad fellow, Jervase.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Ain’t I?’ said Jervase. ‘You go on like this, Major, and I shall begin to + think that you’re a better sort than I fancied you were.’ + </p> + <p> + The two men went to sleep together, each holding the other’s hand. It was + an odd thing, and quite unlikely to have been prophesied by anybody; but + it happened. + </p> + <p> + An hour or two later, when the elder Jervase stole in on tiptoe, with a + new cup of priceless beef-tea, he saw the two men lying there, with their + faces turned to each other, as if they had been lovers, and hand holding + hand. He took Polson by the wrist, and shook the grasp gently asunder. + </p> + <p> + ‘You’ve got to take this, old chap,’ he said, and setting down the candle + he carried, and fixing it by its own grease to the rough hospital table at + the bed head, he began to feed the boy once more. + </p> + <p> + You are not to imagine the ward silent all this time. There are valiant + souls of men passing with every hour, and groans of death and anguish, and + all the living axe conscious. + </p> + <p> + When Jervase had fed the Sergeant to the last teaspoonful, he retired + again, leaving the candle burning on the table at the bed head. + </p> + <p> + ‘These poor chaps,’ he said, ‘may find a little bit of comfort in a light, + and any way, good English wax don’t stink like Turkish lamp oil, does it, + old chap?’ + </p> + <p> + The ‘old chap’ winked. He had no strength to express himself in any more + emphatic manner; but he had got to love his father once again, for, after + all, the ties of blood are strong, and a man may have been a wrong doer + without giving his own son an eternal cause to hate him. And when a man + has a bullet hole through the neck, and has been unconscious for many + days, and delirious for many weeks, and finds a once familiar face bending + over him, habit asserts itself; and any hatred or despite which may have + come in between two people long ago is likely to be scattered. It was a + foreign air which howled about the gables and chimneys. It was a foreign + wind which wept and moaned about that abode of sorrow, and drove the rain + against the window panes. But to the boy, the feel of whose father’s hand + was still warm in his own, it was home, home, home. The candle dwindled + down, and he had been watchful enough to prevent the whole place being set + on fire by waiting to blow out its final flame as it drove towards the + bare wood on which it rested. Darkness came down and slumber with it; and + then on the top of slumber a quiet whisper and a dawning light which waked + many men in the long bare corridor. There was a candle carried by a + hospital nurse in the sombre uniform of her craft, and behind it came a + lady whom every waking man there present turned to thank, if it were only + by a movement of the enfeebled hand, or a droop of the eyelid, or a motion + of the deadened lips. Men who are dying after long sickness in hospital + cannot cheer. Men who fall in the full tide of the strength of manhood on + the battlefield can acclaim their leader. The wasted forces had naturally + gone, but as the gleaming candle light led Florence Nightingale from couch + to couch, the wakers turned and gave such signals as they could. The + pitying, watchful, gracious face went by, and the candle light departed. + </p> + <p> + A good many weeks and months went by before the name of the owner of that + gracious face and that memorable smile was known even to the parting souls + and suffering bodies which were cheered by it. + </p> + <p> + Spring comes up earlier in the region of Scutari than it does in London, + and there were many scores of ragged silken-bearded fellows rambling up + and down the streets of the place on crutches before the first leaf had + declared itself in any park in London, and almost before the first wayside + flower had bloomed in any English country hedgerow. + </p> + <p> + Away to the north-east of the hospital lies that cemetery which for many a + year to come will be a place of pilgrimage for the British globe-trotter. + There are the hunched, high-shouldered monuments of many buried men, with + the turban with its wreathen carvings to indicate the resting place of the + master sex. In those days, when the shallow graves were being very quickly + filled, the convalescent inmates of the hospital made the cemetery their + favourite promenading ground, and it was here, upon a shining March + Monday, that Polson and Major de Blacquaire encountered each other on + their wanderings amid the tombs, the one on crutches, and the other + painfully supporting his footsteps by the aid of a walking stick. + </p> + <p> + ‘Since they began to sort us about,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘I’ve lost sight + of you. And you’ve never answered my question. Now, what the devil <i>did</i> + you do it for?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Look here,’ said Polson, using his favourite locution, ‘you’ve threatened + two or three times to make an end of me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said the Major, nodding and drawling on the word. ‘That’s right + enough, But what’s that got to do with it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Well, you see,’ said Polson, ‘I’d got to give you the chance to do it.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Had you?’ said Major de Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + The one man was leaning on his crutches, and the other was stooping on his + crutch walking-stick, and there was nobody near so far as either of them + could see. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know,’ said De Blacquaire, in a drooping voice. ‘I may be all + wrong, and in a sort of way knocked to pieces, don’t you know. But I think + on the whole, Sergeant, that you have acted like an unusually damned good + fellow. Do you mind?’—he pointed to a sunken tomb by a motion of one + of his crutches, and he sat down upon it. ‘What has a fellow got to do + when another fellow has fetched him out of the fire at the risk of his own + life, and one fellow hates the other fellow like the very devil? I’ll tell + you straight, Polson,’ said De Blacquaire, in his old-mannered drawl, ‘I’d + have seen you damned and done for before I’d have reached out a finger to + save you. And I think that you are the blamedest kind of an ass and a + duffer to have pulled me out. And yet I don’t know—I’m not so cursed + certain that you’ll suffer for it.’ + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + In the pale spring sunlight where they sat, there came a wholly + incongruous figure. It was clad in black broadcloth, and black kid gloves, + and there was a black shining silk hat on the top of it; and in one of the + black kid gloved hands was balanced a black silk umbrella. The figure was + that of John Jervase, and he was walking amidst the tombs of Scutari with + about as much visible emotion as he would have shown if he had been on his + daily walk to the Stock Exchange in Stevenson Place, Birmingham. + </p> + <p> + ‘They told me at the hospital as you’d got leave for a bit of a walk, + Polly, and one of the chaps said it was likely I should find you here. + You’re better, ain’t you? There’s a little bit of colour in your face this + morning.’ + </p> + <p> + He was altogether gay and friendly, and his voice and manner alike were + cheerful, but he fell into a ludicrous consternation as he turned to find + Major de Blacquaire seated between two turbaned tombs at his left hand. + </p> + <p> + ‘I say, Sergeant,’ said the Major, with his University drawl, ‘I wish + you’d go away for half a minute, and leave me to talk things over with + your Governah?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘As you like,’ said Polson, and hobbled away towards the south end of the + cemetery, where the bay lay gleaming that mild morning, and French and + English troopships were landing men who were as broken as he himself had + been a month ago. + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose,’ said De Blacquaire, scratching lines on the ground before him + with one of his crutches, ‘that you’re one of the beastliest old bounders + that one could find on the face of the earth, and I have the best sort of + a good mind to get you into trouble. I suppose you know that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well,’ said John Jervase. ‘If you won’t get me into any sort of + trouble that won’t leave my boy outside, you’re welcome.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said the Major, ‘that’s where you come in. You go and rob your + neighbour for a matter of about twenty years, and when I drop into his + property you go on robbing me, and then because your son’s a good chap a + man is obliged to let you alone. I don’t think that that is fair.’ + </p> + <p> + John Jervase had seated himself at the opposite side of the cemetery path, + and was as busy in the making of hieroglyphics with the point of his + neatly folded silk umbrella as Major de Blacquaire was with the point of + his crutch. + </p> + <p> + ‘Hit me,’ he said, ‘without hitting the boy and you are welcome.’ + </p> + <p> + Major de Blacquaire scored the wet gravel with the crutch, looking + frowningly down upon the ground, and Jervase scored the earth on his side + with the neat brass ferrule. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t quite see what I am to do with you,’ said the Major. ‘It isn’t + the boy’s fault that he has a rotter for a father, is it?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Now you look here,’ said John Jervase, heavily and solidly, ‘I’ve had + pretty nearly two years to think this thing over in. I’ve done wrong, and + I own up to it There’s my boy, Polly, as is recommended for the Victoria + Cross by Sir Colin Campbell, and fetched you out of the fire under the + Malakoff, so I’m told, as if you’d been his very born brother. I’ve been + sitting by his bed for more than a month past, and if I’m not a Dutchman + he hates you like poison. He’d only got to leave you there and everything + would have been at an end betwixt us; and what on earth he fetched you out + for, I don’t know. If you think, Major, that I’m appealing for myself, + you’re the most mistaken man in the whole wide world. If you can find a + way of hitting old Jack Jervase without hitting the boy, find it and do + it. But ever since I’ve heard about you, folks have told me that you pride + yourself on being a gentleman; and if a gentleman is going to take it out + of a chap who has nearly died for him, when he had every right to leave + him alone, and when it was the biggest kind of blunder to rescue him, I’m + no judge of what a gentleman ought to be.’ Major de Blacquaire moved the + point of the crutch to and fro on the moist gravel, and made his + hieroglyphics in the soil without response for a minute or two. But at + last he said, in his Cambridge drawl: + </p> + <p> + ‘You’re an illimitable old bounder, but you’re rather a clever old + bounder, when all is said and done, and I suppose I shall have to let you + go.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Major de Blacquaire,’ said Jervase, ‘if ever there was a man mistaken in + this world, you’re a mistaken man. I don’t want your ticket, and I don’t + want your pardon. I’ve had two years to think this over in. I’ve been + without my lad all the time, and I’ve come out here to find him broke and + wandering in his mind. I’ve sat down between your bed and his, and I’ve + heard him in his wanderings say how he hated you, and I’ve heard you say + how you’ve hated him. And now I tell you, fair and square, find a way of + hitting me that won’t hit the lad, and I’ll take anything that you can do + to me.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘There isn’t any way,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘worse luck! I’m told that + there’s a doctrine of heredity, and we’ve got to believe that men are like + their fathers. Personally, I’m not going to believe it And I shall be + obliged to you if you will go and send back a lad who’s about as much like + you as you’re like the Apostle Paul. Now—vanish! and behave like an + honest fellow for once in your life for the sake of an honest son.’ + </p> + <p> + John Jervase rose. ‘It’s all very well,’ he said, ‘for you to talk. You’ve + never been poor and ambitious and hard run, and you don’t know what + temptation can amount to. You’ve got your money back again to the last + penny. It’s in Stubbs’ hands, and I’ve stood the racket. And if the father + did you a bad turn the son has done you a good one.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you kindly go away, Mr. Jervase?’ said the Major. + </p> + <p> + ‘Yes,’ said Jervase, ‘I’ll go away. But since I’m here, I’m going to ask + you one question. Are you going to hit the boy through me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Will you oblige me,’ said Major de Blacquaire, ‘by going to the devil?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you a-going,’ said John Jervase, ‘to make a scandal of this business + when you get home again? I’ve paid your lawyer to the last farthing. My + cousin’s hooked it with pretty near a quarter of a million sterling, and + gone out to Venezuela. And if I hadn’t struck on a pretty fat thing in the + way of a contract for forage and horseflesh for these French chaps here, I + should have been pretty well a bankrupt. But I found the money, and you’re + as well off as you would have been if old General Airey had never heard my + name.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is good news to a poor man,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘And now, my dear + sir, <i>will</i> you oblige me by going to the devil?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Are you a-going to make a scandal about this business when we get home + again?’ Jervase asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘No, you purblind clown,’ said Major de Blacquaire, rising, and fitting + his crutches to his armpits. ‘I am not. You have about as much notion of + what a man is bound to do under these conditions as an ox would have. + Please do as I have asked you, and leave me, and send the boy along. I + don’t think that he will leave the same flavour on the palate as the + father does.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose,’ said Jervase, ‘that from your point of view I’ve been a + badish sort of a lot?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I suppose you have,’ said Major de Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + ‘But Polly never knew about it, and you’ve never had any sort of a right + to look down on him. Old Sir Ferdinand was the first of your crowd as ever + climbed to the top of the tree, and I can remember him when he was no + better off than I am.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I do not think,’ said Major de Blacquaire, ‘that I have ever encountered + quite so pestiferous a stupidity. Will you go?’ + </p> + <p> + The tension of the curious interview was relieved, for Polson, who had + slowly paced the circular path which ran round the cemetery, came limping + back again, dinting the wet gravel with the crutch-headed stick and + leaning on it like a man who had achieved a forced march of many miles. + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s the chap,’ said John Jervase, ‘as fetched you out from under + fire.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I have a right,’ said Major de Blac-quaire, ‘to be as well aware of that + fact as you are, Mr. Jervase. Sergeant, I’ve been mistaken about you all + along. Do you mind——’ he paused, and there was a break in the + aristocratic drawl he had so long affected that it had grown to be a trick + of second nature with him, ‘d’you mind shaking hands, Sergeant?’ + </p> + <p> + Polson Jervase reached out the hand which was not engaged with the stick, + and it happened to be the left. + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t want that, Sergeant,’ said the Major. + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear fellow,’ said Polson, ‘it’s the nearest to the heart.’ + </p> + <p> + And De Blacquaire took it with a glint of moisture in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + ‘You ain’t done that to me, Polly,’ said Jervase. ‘It’s pretty near two + years since you’ve done that to me. Are you ever going to shake hands with + me again?’ + </p> + <p> + Major de Blacquaire fitted his crutches to his shoulders, and stumped + away, leaving father and son together. + </p> + <p> + ‘There’s nobody seems to understand me, Polly,’ said the elder. ‘I ran my + risk of getting into quod along with your Uncle James, and for a man who’s + been brought up respectable, that ought to count for something. I’ve owned + up to everything, and I’ve paid for everything, and I’m a solid man this + minute. Ain’t you going to shake hands with your old father, Polly? I + followed you out to the Crimea, and I learned where you was a-lyin’, + wounded, and I’ve nursed you from the minute I found you up till now. + Shake hands, Polly.’ + </p> + <p> + Father and son shook hands, with no very great good will, if the truth + must be told, on the side of the younger; for Polson had yet to learn a + lesson or two and had not caught the art of forgiveness for the repentant + sinner who was still prosperous. It is a great deal easier for almost + anybody to forgive the criminal who has fallen to hunger and tatters than + it is to find an excuse for him when he goes in shining broadcloth and + lustrous silk and patent leather. + </p> + <p> + De Blacquaire went stumping along on his crutches in the weak spring + sunshine, and Polson and his father, by mere chance, were looking after + him when he paused at the corner of the one important monument in the + grounds, and raised his forage cap to some person as yet unseen. + </p> + <p> + There is a sort of legend often taught in verse and fiction to the effect + that no one true lover can be near another without the presence being + felt. But Polson had turned away when his father laid a hand upon his + sleeve, and asked him, ‘Don’t you see who that is, Polly?’ And the lad, + turning, saw the goddess of his dreams. It was Irene, and he recognised + her face almost without surprise, for it flashed upon him instantly that + her voice had sounded through all his fevered dreams since he had first + laid his head upon the clean, sweet-smelling hospital pillow. The girl was + dressed in black, and her slight figure looked the slighter for its garb. + She came forward with a smile in her eyes, and with a quickened step. + </p> + <p> + ‘I’ve kept my promise,’ said Jervase the elder, ‘and I haven’t spoke a + word.’ And with that he exhibited a tact he had not shown before, and + walked smartly away, leaving the boy and girl together. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have wanted to see you,’ she said amply, ‘but I have kept away until I + could be sure of bringing you good news. You know that my father is here?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I saw him on Lord Raglan’s Staff at the Alma,’ said Polson, ‘and I have + heard about him since from time to time.’ + </p> + <p> + De Blacquaire was hobbling away on his crutches towards the hospital, and + by this time was barely visible. Jervase in his black broadcloth and + shining silk hat brandished his umbrella in the rear, and there was not + another soul in sight. + </p> + <p> + ‘I knew you, dear,’ said Polson. ‘I have had your voice and hand about me + for a month past.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I came out with my father,’ said Irene, ‘more than a year ago. Lord + Raglan gave him some sort of work to do at the Embassy at Constantinople + to begin with, and when the fighting began he was attached to the Staff + and I was left behind. So I turned to the hospital and I have been at work + here for a year and more.’ + </p> + <p> + He forgot his wound, and stood upright with the crutch stick in one hand + and held out both arms to her. + </p> + <p> + ‘I haven’t the least little bit of a right, my dear,’ he said, but she + laughed tenderly, and ran to the offered shelter. All around were the + unlettered, turbaned memorials of the dead, and there was just this one + bit of youth and love in the middle of that record of a thousand + tragedies. + </p> + <p> + ‘Have you heard the news?’ she asked, looking up at the worn young face + with its late sprung growth of silky beard. + </p> + <p> + ‘What news?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + ‘The news about yourself,’ she answered. + </p> + <p> + ‘News about myself?’ said Polson. ‘What news is there about me?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘You don’t know?’ cried Irene, recoiling from him a little with clasped + hands and sparkling eyes. ‘Is it going to be my good luck to tell you? You + don’t know any news about yourself?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I don’t know any news about myself,’ he answered; ‘since I was bowled + over on Christmas morning at Sevastopol, I haven’t had a chance of hearing + any, I’ve had your voice and this dear little hand about me all the time—I’ve + known that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And you don’t know?’ she asked him, ‘you don’t know what’s waiting for + you when you get back to England?’ + </p> + <p> + A cloud fell upon him at the question. ‘I don’t know, dear,’ he answered. + ‘I don’t know what’s waiting for me when I get back to England. But I do + know that I’m a bit of a fool and a bit of a scoundrel to forget the + reason why we said good-bye. I was so glad to see you again that it came + natural to forget. And you’ll forgive me sooner than I shall forgive + myself.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Wait one minute, Polson,’ said Irene. ‘Here is a letter from papa. So + soon as you can recover you are to be invalided home, and the gem of the + letter is—do you guess? Do you guess? You are recommended by the + Commander-in-Chief for the Victoria Cross. Here it is.’ And she read, + dancing on tiptoe. ‘“Our young friend, Polson, has magnificently + distinguished himself, having rescued under heavy fire a wounded officer, + whose name I have not yet been able to discover. But the gallant action + was seen by the Chief, who was there in person, and who has told me that + he has seen nothing more splendid in the whole course of his career.”’ + </p> + <p> + With that, she hid her face upon his breast again, and he folded his arms + about her in a sort of stupor. + </p> + <p> + ‘I said good-bye, dear, long ago,’ he stammered haltingly. ‘I’ve no right + to behave like this.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘What can make any difference between us?’ + </p> + <p> + He took her to his heart again at those fond words, and laid his lips upon + her forehead. De Blacquaire’s crutches had long since ceased to crunch + along the road towards the hospital, and Jervase’s broad shoulders had + gone out of sight. There was no human creature near, but far and far away + overhead a lark was soaring and singing. Many and many a pair of English + lovers had heard the same song as the bird had hailed the rising or the + setting sun, and both the young hearts beat to that native sounding music + which rang so far away from home. Their lips came together, and there was + music in their hearts. + </p> + <p> + ‘Take me back to the hospital, Polson,’ she said, disengaging herself from + his arms. ‘I am on duty within a quarter of an hour.’ + </p> + <p> + She took a little watch from her girdle, and looked at it with a cry. + </p> + <p> + ‘I have barely five minutes, and I have never failed to relieve guard + since I came. Is that the word, dear?’ She took his arm sedately, and + walked along with him, he prodding at the wet gravel with his stick, and + she half supporting him. + </p> + <p> + ‘Was that true?’ she asked. ‘Did you know that I was near you?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Did I know!’ said Polson in a voice that was worth a thousand + protestations to her ears. + </p> + <p> + ‘I always thought,’ said Irene, ‘that I disliked Major de Blacquaire until + a week or two ago; but whilst you were lying there ill and delirious, he + behaved so kindly that I shall never forget him. And he told me—you + won’t mind, Polson, dear, you won’t let anything I say wound you? He told + me that the past was buried. That awful, awful night will never be quite + forgotten, but it has left nothing behind it. Your father has paid + everything, and there is not a word to be spoken by anybody, ever any + more.’ + </p> + <p> + The lark sang in the thin sunlight as if he would break his very heart for + joy, and the lovers walked homewards slowly, arm in arm. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + It was the First of May, and that same good three-master, the <i>Cæsar</i>, + which had carried Major de Blacquaire and Sergeant Jervase from the Crimea + to Scutari, was bowling merrily along south of Naples, where Vesuvius had + his smoking cap on. There were many invalided men on board, and amongst + them three with whom this story has a particular concern. + </p> + <p> + ‘You are right, Captain Tompson, it is abominably unlucky; I had reckoned + on seeing the finish of the campaign, and it’s hard to find oneself bowled + over now, and sent home again like a useless old bale of damaged goods.’ + </p> + <p> + General Boswell was stumping the sloping deck with the aid of the + Captain’s arm, getting his first hour of exercise since he came aboard. + All the snowy canvas was filled hard as iron with a noble level breeze, + and the ship was making a speed which would hardly have disgraced an + Atlantic liner of the modern day. She made a prettier sight than any + steam-driven craft ever made, or ever will make; and she carried a better + music with her in the taut wind-smitten cordage of the shrouds and the + deep organ hum of the stretched canvas. + </p> + <p> + ‘I am saying, Polson,’ said the General, encountering the Sergeant halfway + along the deck, ‘that it’s unluckier for an old fellow to get bowled over + than it is for a young one. You may be as fit as a fiddle again in a month + or two, and may have your fill of fighting for Queen and country; but I + have done my last day’s work, and that is a weary thing to think of.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Last day’s fighting, sir?’ said Polson, ‘but not the last day’s work. + There’s a heap to be done for the old country yet, and I hope that Irene’s + dream may come true and that you may go into the House of Commons and give + those beggars at the War Office their proper fodder.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That is the business of a younger man than I am,’ said the General, ‘and + I doubt if there’s any mending in that direction. I have been at the game + now, off and on, for something like forty years, and I know we have the + best fighting stuff in the world at our command, but the Department have + always made it their business to cripple it and starve it, and leave it + naked and hungry. I’ve seen it in Spain, and in the Low Countries, and + I’ve dragged out three years of it in the old Mahratta country, and it has + always been the same. I suppose it always will be until we learn that it + is as necessary to have a soldier to look after things at home as it is to + have a soldier leading in the field. When we get you home again, my lad, + well run you for the Southern Division of the county and you shall talk to + ‘em across the floor of the House of Commons.’ + </p> + <p> + The three men reached the bows of the good boat and turned, and there was + De Blacquaire before them with a weather-beaten servant holding him by the + elbow and piloting him along the deck. He saluted in passing, and the + General laid a hand upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + ‘I should like half an hour with you this morning,’ he said, ‘if you can + spare the time to come into my stateroom for a talk.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I am at your service now, sir,’ said De Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + ‘Shall we go down?’ asked the General. ‘One tires easily still, and this + May wind gets into an old man’s head like wine.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And into a young man’s, too,’ said De Blacquaire. ‘I am half tipsy with + it, and shall be glad to get into shelter.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘We’ll see you at breakfast, Polson,’ said the General, ‘and until then, + good-bye.’ + </p> + <p> + The two men reached the General’s cabin and sat down together. + </p> + <p> + ‘When we touched at Corfu,’ said the General, ‘I found a letter from my + London agents—I’d like you to see it, and I shall be glad if you can + confirm its contents, or at least a part of them.’ + </p> + <p> + De Blacquaire took the proffered letter and read: + </p> + <p> + ‘Sir,—: We are instructed to inform you that a sum of fifty thousand + pounds has been deposited with us to your credit by Mr. John Jervase, of + Beacon Hargate. Mr. Jervase requests us in communicating with you to say + that a further sum of one hundred thousand pounds, making in all one + hundred and fifty thousand, has been deposited by him in the interest of + Major de Blacquaire with that gentleman’s agents. We are desired to add + further that Mr. Jervase has joined his brother in South America, that he + proposes to establish business relations there, and does not intend to + return to England. We are, sir, your obedient humble servants, E. A. Cox + & Co.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Except,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘that the sums mentioned here are reversed + in order, I have a letter identical in terms. The old scoundrel has bled + very freely.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And there’s no vendetta?’ said the General, smiling. + </p> + <p> + ‘Vendetta?’ said De Blacquaire. ‘You can hardly have a vendetta with a man + who has saved your life, even though the beggar did it for no other reason + than to show how much he despised you. I was wrong about the lad, General; + he’s a very fine fellow.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘I could have told you that much long ago,’ said the General. He reached + out a lean brown hand and rang a bell which stood upon the stateroom + table. ‘You’ll take a glass of wine, Major? It’s against my rule, but I + feel like breaking rules today.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘And so do I, sir,’ said De Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + So the wine was brought, and the glasses were filled, and the two men + drank to each other. The General lit a cheroot, and sat in a deck chair; + but the younger man fidgeted and was obviously ill at ease. + </p> + <p> + ‘There is one thing on my mind, General Boswell,’ he said at last, ‘and I + should like to get it over. I had two or three months at Scutari and I was + nursed by an angel all the while.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Don’t go on, my lad,’ said the General, reaching a hand towards him. ‘If + I understand you, it’s useless to talk of that.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Very well, sir,’ said De Blacquaire, sipping gloomily at his wine; and + nothing more was said for a minute or two, but the younger man gradually + brightened, and it could be plainly seen that he was squaring his mental + shoulders for the reception of a burden which he meant to cany. + </p> + <p> + ‘The Sergeant is a lucky dog, sir.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘My dear fellow,’ said the General, ‘he has deserved to be a lucky dog. It + is one of the ordinances of this life that a fellow can’t choose his own + father. If the lad had had a choice and had exercised it, I should have + had no great respect for him. And yet I had a sort of liking for old + Jervase. He was a bounder always, but I thought he was an honest bounder.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘They tell me,’ said De Blacquaire, ‘that the Sergeant’s to have his V.C. + for that business in front of the first parallel.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘That’s a settled thing, I fancy,’ said the General ‘Sir Colin’s word + ought to be good for anything at home, and my own should go for + something.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Mine won’t be wanting, sir, if they think it worth listening to.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘What did you two fall out about?’ the General asked. + </p> + <p> + Major de Blacquaire dipped into the cigar box which had been pushed over + towards him long before, and very thoughtfully fingered an evil-looking + Trichinopoli. + </p> + <p> + ‘Why, sir, I believe if the whole truth were told we fell out mainly + because I was a bit of a puppy. You’re an older man of the world than I + am, sir, and I dare say you can’t have failed to notice that some men who + think they are insiders are outsiders, and that some of the fellows they + despise are better than themselves.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Do you know, De Blacquaire,’ said the General, ‘I like that?’ + </p> + <p> + ‘A year in camp, and two or three months in hospital, will do a lot + towards changing a man’s opinions.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘Won’t they?’ cried the General. ‘Egad! Won’t they?’ The old Christian + Quixote mounted his hobby, and rode. ‘There are things in war that nobody + wants to think about. It’s an ugly trade. When I was a youngster, and in + my first action I was very hard-pressed, and I caught a bayonet out of the + hand of a fellow who was dropping at my side, and I had to use it. It’s + fifty years ago now, but the man squealed and I haven’t forgotten it, and + I’m never likely to forget it. But a man is born to die, sir, and he’s + born to do his duty. I dare say I’m a simple thinker, Major de Blacquaire, + but there are things a hundred times worse than war, and if you didn’t + believe that God sent them, you would have to turn infidel. I’ve seen two + or three choleras, here and there, and a Black Death and a bubonic plague. + What does it all mean? Jarring forces, sir, which Heaven will reconcile in + its own good time. And that’s what war means to my mind. You go where + you’re sent, just as the germ of disease, or whatever you call it, goes, + and you do what you are set to do. And I’ll say this for war, sir, as an + old Christian man who has spent his life at it. It’s the fire of God, to + my way of thinking, and it burns out all manner of meannesses, and + hypocrisies, and we should have a devil of a lot more to be ashamed of + than we have if we didn’t get into a solid fight now and again.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘It is a school, sir,’ said De Blacquaire. + </p> + <p> + ‘By heaven, sir,’ said the solemn General, ‘it is a school.’ + </p> + <p> + ‘But there are more class-rooms than one in the great school house of + human nature, and whilst the General was setting forth his theories of + war, young Polson Jervase was setting out a theory of another and an + opposite fashion as he walked the deck with Irene. + </p> + <p> + He was deadly serious also, for all that part of life which seems best + worth having lay before him. And the two had many talks as they paced the + decks, morn and eve together. Irene was almost the only lady on board, and + most of the dot-and-go-one boys who had exchanged a natural limb for a + timber toe, and the loose-sleeved men who had left an arm behind them at + Sevastopol, had been beneath her care. And those who did not know her + ministrations in effect knew them by oral tradition, and the bronzed + fellows stumping and tramping up and down saluted her with such a worship + that her heart was like a fountain of glad tears a hundred times in a day. + </p> + <p> + A girl has a natural and inborn right to be proud of her sweetheart in any + earthly circumstances whatsoever, if he were the merest snub-nosed, + freckled, and chinless Jones that ever skipped over a counter. But to have + an approved and veritable here for a lover, and to live at the same time + as the sole heroine of so narrow a little world as a shipful of soldiers + the incense of whose hearts went up about her constantly, was to be more + than merely proud and happy. Polson had got a permanent crick in his neck + from that bit of Russian lead which had caught him just as he dropped into + the trench with De Blacquaire. In the course of time he began to carry it + naturally, so that it looked like the merest little mannerism, but it + could never have been handsome by any conceivable chance except in the + eyes of a wife or a sweetheart. Irene adored it, and would have made it a + rule of fashion, as the Grecian bend and the Alexandra limp came to be in + later years, and no man would have been allowed to carry his head in any + other fashion than Polson did save under heavy pains and penalties. + </p> + <p> + ‘When everybody can see how a story will end,’ said one of the greatest + masters of the narrative art, ‘the story is ended,’ and the written + history of Polson Jervase is coming to a close. + </p> + <p> + There were certain things about which he was naturally anxious and about + which it was impossible to ask any questions. But the truth came out + little by little, and it appeared in the end that the world knew nothing + of the secrets which had escaped between the partners in the firm of + Jervase & Jervoyce in the course of that wild night which had brought + to England news of such portentous moment. There were rumours, of course. + There was a gossip to the effect that the firm had been on the edge of + ruin, and that Polson, rather than miss the fighting, had elected to go + out as a private soldier, dropping his hope of a commission for the time + being. This was a fancy which hurt nobody. John Jervase had left his + affairs in excellent order when he had established his own line of + retreat, and since he had been known to have made money hand over fist + within the last year or two, the halo which surrounds the millionaire was + about him, and it would have been hard to say whether he or the boy were + more popular in the Castle Barfield region. The general idea was that they + were a pair of valiant fellows; the one in the commercial and the other in + the warlike way. + </p> + <p> + Poor Raglan’s heroisms and blunders were buried together before the day + came when in the ordinary course of events he would have led his troops + along the saluting line and have received the honours due to him from his + Sovereign. + </p> + <p> + The scent of hot grass was strong in the flaming noontide in Hyde Park + when London poured out its scores and scores of thousands to witness the + ceremonial which crowned a foolish and disastrous war with a triumph + better earned by the valour of the men who fought there than by the + statecraft of the other men who sent them into combat. Ragged and lean and + bearded, with the soil of the Crimea still upon them, the men of Alma and + Inkerman, of Balaclava and Sevastopol, marched through the roaring citizen + crowd and formed up in the Park. There were many men of valour there—many + who had earned as well as any other the mark of honour which was that day + to be bestowed; but opposite the bright pavilion with the raised crimson + dais on which the Queen was to take her seat there was but a mere handful + of the halt and maimed, upon whom the eyes of the vast multitude, whether + civil or military, were fixed. They were no more than specks in the great + open space—just so many little coloured ants to the eye—and + the gaze of the spectators gloated on them. For they were Britain’s + chosen. These were the men of whom all London had been reading with bated + breath for well nigh three years past. These were the men of Alma’s + heights and Balaclava’s charge and Inkerman’s fog, and the frost of the + trenches—the pick and pride of the whole contingent which had gone + out to do battle for England’s honour. That they had never been truly + called upon to go made little if any difference at that hour, for London + was in the mood for hero-worship rather than political criticism just + then, and not the rudest judge of British policy would have cared to speak + a word against the ceremony of the day. + </p> + <p> + And when, after long waiting, the royal carriage came, with the pretty, + smiling little matronly figure bowing and swaying amidst the ringing + thunders of the world’s greatest city, and the bands rolled out their ‘God + Save the Queen’ as she passed them one after another, one happy, happy + onlooker looked up at one war-hardened old veteran through tears. + </p> + <p> + ‘Upon my word,’ said the General, with a grimace which was really much + less humorous than he meant it to be, and in a voice which was hardly as + steady as he would have liked to have it—‘upon my word, Irene, I’d + give twopence to be in your shoes at this moment.’ + </p> + <p> + For one of the scarlet ants in the far distance, on the green tablecloth + of the turf, was just then advancing towards the little figure on the + dais, and an instant or two later the Queen was stooping to pin the bronze + badge of honour to the coat of Polson Jervase. + </p> + <p> + THE END. <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of VC -- A Chronicle of Castle Barfield +and of the Crimea, by David Christie Murray + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VC, A CHRONICLE *** + +***** This file should be named 22275-h.htm or 22275-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/2/7/22275/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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