Midnight Webs

But I may as well say now, and have it off my mind, that it has always struck me that, during those peaceful days, when our greatest worry was a hot march, we didn’t know when we were well off, and that it wanted the troubles to come before we could see what good qualities there were in other people. Little trifling things used to make us sore – things such as we didn’t notice afterwards, when great sorrows came. I know I was queer, and spiteful, and jealous; and no great wonder that, for I always was a man with a nastyish temper, and soon put out; but even Mrs Bantem used to show that she wasn’t quite perfect, for she quite upset me one day, when Measles got talking at dinner about Lizzy Green, Miss Ross’s maid, and, what was a wonderful thing for him, not finding fault. He got saying that she was a nice girl, and would make a soldier as wanted one a good wife; when Mrs Bantem fires up as spiteful as could be – I think, mind you, there’d been something wrong with the cooking that day, which had turned her a little – and she says that Lizzy was very well, but looks weren’t everything, and that she was raw as raw, and would want no end of dressing before she would be good for anything; while as to making a soldier’s wife, soldiers had no business to have wives till they could buy themselves off and turn civilians. Then, again, she seemed to have taken a sudden spite against Mrs Maine, saying that she was a poor little stuck-up fine lady, and she could never have forgiven her if it had not been for those two beautiful children; though what Mrs Bantem had got to forgive the colonel’s wife, I don’t believe she even knew herself.

The old black ayah, too, got very much put out about this time, and all on account of the two new comers; for when Miss Ross hadn’t the children with her, they were along with Lizzy, who, like her mistress, was new to the climate, and hadn’t got into that doll listless way that comes to people who have been some time up the country. They were all life and fun and energy, and the children were never happy when they were away; and of a morning, more to please Lizzy, I used to think, than the children, Harry Lant used to pick out a shady place, and then drive Chunder Chow, who was the mahout of Nabob, the principal elephant, half wild, by calling out his beast, and playing with him all sorts of antics.

Chunder tried all he could to stop it; but it was of no use, for Harry had got such influence over that animal, that when one day he was coaxing him out to lead him under some trees, and the mahout tried to stop him, Nabob makes no more ado, but lifts his great soft trunk, and rolls Mr Chunder Chow over into the grass, where he lay screeching like a parrot, and chattering like a monkey, rolling his opal eyeballs, and showing his white teeth with fear; for he expected that Nabob was going to put his foot on him and crush him to death, as is the nature of those great beasts. But not he; he only lays his trunk gently on Harry’s shoulder, and follows him across the open like a great flesh-mountain, winking his little pig’s eyes, whisking his tiny tail, and flapping his great ears; while the children clapped their hands as they stood in the shade with Miss Ross and Lizzy, and Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh close behind.

“There’s no call to be afraid, miss,” says Harry, saluting as he saw Miss Ross shrink back; and seeing how, when he said a few words in Hindustani, the great animal minded him, they stopped being afraid, and gave Harry fruit and cakes with which to feed the great beast.

You see, out there in that great dull place, people are very glad to have any little trifle to amuse them; so you mustn’t be surprised to hear that there used to be quite a crowd to see Harry Lant’s performances, as he called them. But all the same, I didn’t like his upsetting old Chunder Chow; and it seemed to me, even then, that we’d managed to make another black enemy – the black ayah being the first.

However, Harry used to go on making old Nabob kneel down, or shake hands, or curl up his trunk, or lift him up, finishing off by going up to his head, lifting one great ear, saying they understood one another, whispering a few words, and then shutting the ear up again, so as the words shouldn’t be lost before they got into the elephant’s brain, as Harry explained, because they’d got a long way to go. Then Harry would lie down, and let the great beast walk backwards and forwards all over him, lifting his great feet so carefully, and setting them down close to Harry, but never touching him, except one day when, just as the great beast was passing his foot over Harry’s breast, a voice called out something in Hindustani – and I knew who it was, though I didn’t see – when Nabob puts his foot down on Harry’s chest, and Lizzy gave a loud scream, and we all thought the poor chap would be crushed; but not he: the great beast was took by surprise, but only for an instant; and in his slow quiet way he steps aside, and then touches Harry all over with his trunk; and there was no more performance that day.

“I’ve got my knife into Master Chunder for that,” says Harry to me; “for I’ll swear that was his voice.” And I started to find he had known it.

“I wouldn’t quarrel with him,” I says quietly; “for it strikes me he’s got his knife into you.”

“You’ve no idea,” says Harry, “what a nip it was. I thought it was all over; but all the same, the poor brute didn’t mean it, I’d swear.”

Story 1-Chapter IV

Who could have thought just then that all that nonsense of Harry Lant’s with the elephant was shaping itself for our good? But so it was, as you shall by and by hear. The march continued, matters seeming to go on very smoothly; but only seeming, mind you; for let alone that we were all walking upon a volcano, there was ever so much unpleasantry brewing. Let alone my feeling that, somehow or another, Harry Lant was not so good a mate to me as he used to be, there was a good deal wrong between Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh, and it soon seemed plain that there was much more peace and comfort in our camp a week earlier than there was at the time of which I am now writing.

I used to have my turns as sentry here and there; and it was when standing stock-still with my piece, that I used to see and hear so much; for in a camp it seems to be a custom for people to look upon a sentry as a something that can neither see nor hear anything but what might come in the shape of an enemy. They know he must not move from his post, which is to say that he’s tied hand and foot; and perhaps from that they think that he’s tied as to his senses. At all events, I got to see that when Miss Ross, was seated in the colonel’s tent, and Captain Dyer was near her, she seemed to grow gentle and quiet, and her eyes would light up, and her rich red lips part, as she listened to what he was saying; while, when it came to Lieutenant Leigh’s turn, and he was beside her talking, she would be merry and chatty, and would laugh and talk as lively as could be. Harry Lant said it was because they were making up matters, and that some day she would be Mrs Leigh; but I didn’t look at it in that light, though I said nothing.

I used to like to be sentry at the colonel’s tent, on our halting for the night, when the canvas would be looped up, to let in the air, and they’d got their great globe-lamps lit, with the tops to them, to keep out the flies, and the draughts made by the punkahs swinging backwards and forwards. I used to think it quite a pretty sight, with the ladies and the three or four officers, perhaps chatting, perhaps having a little music, for Miss Ross could sing like – like a nightingale, I was going to say; but no nightingale that I ever heard could seem to lay hold of your heart, and almost bring tears into your eyes, as she did. Then she used to sing duets with Captain Dyer, because the colonel wished it, though it was plain to see Mrs Maine didn’t like it, any more than did Lieutenant Leigh, who more than once, as I’ve seen, walked out, looking fierce and angry, to strike off right away from the camp, perhaps not to come back for a couple of hours.

It was one night when we’d been about a fortnight on the way, for during the past week the colonel had been letting us go on very easily, I was sentry at the tent. There had been some singing, and Lieutenant Leigh had gone off in the middle of a duet. Then the doctor, the colonel, and a couple of subs were busy over a game at whist, and the black nurse had beckoned Mrs Maine out, I suppose to see something about the two children; when Captain Dyer and Miss Ross walked together just outside the tent, she holding by one of the cords, and he standing close beside her.

They did not say much, but stood looking up at the bright silver moon and the twinkling stars; while he said a word now and then about the beauty of the scene, the white tents, the twinkling lights here and there, and the soft peaceful aspect of all around; and then his voice seemed to grow lower and deeper as he spoke from time to time, though I could hardly hear a word, as I stood there like a statue watching Miss Ross’s beautiful face, with the great clusters of hair knotted back from her broad white forehead, the moon shining full on it, and seeming to make her eyes flash as they were turned to him.

They must have stood there full half an hour, when she turned as if to go back; but he laid his hand upon hers as it held the tent-cord, and said something very earnestly, when she turned to him again to look him full in the face, and I saw that her hand was not moved.

Then they were silent for a few seconds before he spoke again, loud enough for me to hear.

“I must ask you,” he said huskily; “my peace depends upon it. I know that it has always been understood that you were to be introduced to Lieutenant Leigh. I can see now plainly enough what are your sister’s wishes; but hearts are ungovernable, Miss Ross; and I tell you earnestly, as a simple truth-speaking man, that you have roused feelings that until now slept quietly in my breast. If I am presumptuous, forgive me – love is bold as well as timid – but at least set me at rest: tell me, is there any engagement between you and Lieutenant Leigh?”

She did not speak for a few moments, but met his gaze, so it seemed to me, without shrinking, before saying a word, so softly, that it was like one of the whispers of the breeze crossing the plain; and that word was “No!”

“God bless you for that answer, Miss Ross – Elsie!” he said deeply; and then his head was bent down for an instant over the hand that rested on the cord, before Miss Ross glided away from him into the tent, and went and stood resting with her hand upon the colonel’s shoulder, when he, evidently in high glee, began to show her his cards, laughing and pointing to first one, and then another; for he seemed to be having luck on his side.

But I had no more eyes then for the inside of the tent; for Captain Dyer just seemed to awaken to the fact that I was standing close by him as sentry, and he gave quite a start as he looked at me for a few moments without speaking. Then he took a step forward.

“Who is this? O, thank goodness!” (he said those few words in an undertone, but I happened to hear them). “Smith,” he said, “I forgot there was a sentry there. You saw me talking to that lady?”

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“You saw everything?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you heard all?”

“No, sir, not all; only what you said last.”

Then he was silent again for a few moments, but only to lay his hand directly after on my chest.

“Smith,” he said, “I would rather you had not seen this; and if it had been any other man in my company, I should perhaps have offered him money, to ensure that there was no idle chattering at the mess-tables; but you I ask, as a man I can trust, to give me your word of honour as a soldier to let what you have seen and heard be sacred.”

“Thank you, captain,” I said, speaking thick, for somehow his words seemed to touch me. “You sha’n’t repent trusting me.”

“I have no fear, Smith,” he said, speaking lightly, and as if he felt joyful and proud and happy. “What a glorious night for a cigar!” And he took one out of his case, when we both started; for, as if he had that moment risen out of the ground, Lieutenant Leigh stood there close to us; and even to this day I can’t make out how he managed it, but all the same he must have seen and heard as much as I had.

“And pray, is my word of honour as a soldier to be taken, Captain Dyer? or is my silence to be bought with money? – Curse you! come this way, will you!” he hissed; for Captain Dyer had half turned, as if to avoid him, but he stepped back directly, and I saw them walk off together amongst the trees, till they were quite out of sight; and if ever I felt what it was to be tied down to one spot, I felt it then, as I walked sentry up and down by that tent, watching for those two to return.

Story 1-Chapter V

Now, after giving my word of honour to hold all that sacred, some people may think I’m breaking faith in telling what I saw; but I made that right by asking the colonel’s leave – he is a colonel now – and he smiled, and said that I ought to change the names, and then it would not matter.

I left off my last chapter saying how I felt being tied down to one spot, as I kept guard there; and perhaps everybody don’t know that a sentry’s duty is to stay in the spot where he has been posted, and that leaving it lightly might, in time of war, mean death.

I should think I watched quite an hour, wondering whether I ought to give any alarm; but I was afraid it might look foolish, for perhaps after all it might only mean a bit of a quarrel, and I could not call to mind any quarrel between officers ending in a duel.

I was glad, too, that I did not say anything, for at last I saw them coming back in the clear moonlight – clear-like as day; and then in the distance they stopped, and in a moment one figure seemed to strike the other a sharp blow, which sent him staggering back, and I could not then see who it was that was hit, till they came nearer, and I made out that it was Captain Dyer; while, if I had any doubts at first, I could have none as they came nearer and nearer, with Lieutenant Leigh talking in a big insolent way at Captain Dyer, who was very quiet, holding his handkerchief to his cheek.

So as to be as near as possible to where they were going to pass, I walked to the end of my tether, and, as they came up, Lieutenant Leigh says, in a nasty spiteful whisper: “I should have thought you would have come into the tent to display the wound received in the lady’s cause.”

“Leigh,” said Captain Dyer, taking down his white handkerchief – and in the bright moonlight I could see that his cheek was cut, and the handkerchief all bloody – “Leigh, that was an unmanly blow. You called me a coward; you struck me; and now you try to poison the wound with your bitter words. I never lift hand against the man who has taken that hand in his as my friend, but the day may come when I can prove to you that you are a liar.”

Lieutenant Leigh turned upon him fiercely, as though he would have struck him again; but Captain Dyer paid no heed to him, only walked quietly off to his quarters; while, with a sneering, scornful sort of laugh, the lieutenant went into the colonel’s tent; though, if he expected to see Miss Ross, he was disappointed, for so long as I was on guard, she did not show that night.

Off again the next morning, and over a hotter and dustier road than ever; and I must say that I began to wish we were settled down in barracks once more, for everything seemed to grow more and more crooked, and people more and more unpleasant. Why, even Mrs Bantem that morning before starting must show her teeth, and snub Bantem, and then begin going on about the colonel’s wife, and the fine madam, her sister, having all sorts of luxuries, while poor hardworking soldiers’ wives had to bear all the burden and heat of the day. Then, by way of winding up, she goes to Harry Lant and Measles, who were, as usual, squabbling about something, and boxes both their ears, as if they had been bad boys. I saw them both colour up fierce; but the next minute Harry Lant burst out laughing, and Measles does the same, and then they two did what I should think they never did before – they shook hands; but Mrs Bantem had no sooner turned away with tears in her eyes, because she felt so cross, than the two chaps fell out again about some stupid thing or another, and kept on snarling and snapping at each other all along the march.

But there, bless you! that wasn’t all: I saw Mrs Maine talking to her sister in a quick earnest sort of way, and they both seemed out of sorts; and the colonel swore at the tent-men, and bullied the adjutant, and he came round and dropped on to us, finding fault with the men’s belts, and that upset the sergeants. Then some of the baggage didn’t start right, and Lieutenant Leigh had to be taken to task by Captain Dyer, as in duty bound; while, when at last we were starting, if there wasn’t a tremendous outcry, and the young colonel – little Cock Robin, you know – kicking and screaming, and fighting the old black nurse, because he mightn’t draw his little sword, and march alongside of Harry Lant!

Now, I’m very particular about putting all this down, because I want you to see how we all were one with the other, and how right through the battalion little things made us out of sorts with one another, and hardly friendly enough to speak, so that the difference may strike you, and you may see in a stronger light the alteration and the behaviour of people when trouble came.

All the same, though, I don’t think it’s possible for anybody to make a long march in India without getting out of temper. It’s my belief that the grit does it, for you do have that terribly, and what with the heat, the dust, the thirst, the government boots, that always seem as if made not to fit anybody, and the grit, I believe even a regiment all chaplains would forget their trade.

Tramp, tramp, tramp, day after day, and nearly always over wide, dreary, dusty plains. Now we’d pass a few muddy paddy-fields, or come upon a river, but not often; and I many a time used to laugh grimly to myself, as I thought what a very different place hot, dusty, dreary India was, to the glorious country I used to picture, all beautiful trees and flowers, and birds with dazzling plumage. There are bright places there, no doubt, but I never came across one, and my recollections of India are none of the most cheery.

But at last came the day when we were crossing a great widespread plain, in the middle of which seemed to be a few houses, with something bright here and there shining in the sun; and as we marched on, the cluster of houses appeared to grow and grow, till we halted at last in a market-square of a good-sized town; and that night we were once more in barracks. But, for my part, I was more gritty than ever; for now we did not see the colonel’s lady or her sister, though I may as well own that there was some one with them I wanted to see more than either.

They were all, of course, at the colonel’s quarters, a fine old palace of a place, with a courtyard, and a tank in the centre, and trees, and a flat roof, by the side of the great square; while on one side was another great rambling place, separated by a narrowish sort of alley, used for stores and hospital purposes; and on the other side, still going along by the side of the great market-square, was another building, the very fellow to the colonel’s quarters, but separated by a narrow footway, some ten feet wide, and this place was occupied by the officers.

Our barracks took up another side of the square; and on the others were mosques and flat-roofed buildings, and a sort of bazaar; while all round stretched away, in narrow streets, were the houses of what we men used to call the niggers. Though, speaking for myself, I used to find them, when well treated, a nice, clean, gentle sort of people. I used to look upon them as a big sort of children, in their white muslin and calico, and their simple ways of playing-like at living; and even now I haven’t altered my opinion of them in general, for the great burst of frenzied passion that ran through so many of them was just like a child’s uncontrolled rage.

Things were not long in settling down to the regular life: there was a little drill of a morning, and then, the rest of the day, the heat to fight with, which seemed to take all the moisture out of our bodies, and make us long for night.

I did not get put on as sentry once at the colonel’s quarters, but I heard a little now and then from Mrs Bantem, who used to wash some of Mrs Maine’s fine things, the black women doing everything else; and she’d often have a good grumble about “her fine ladyship,” as she called her, and she’d pity her children. She used to pick up a good deal of information, though; and, taking a deal of interest as I did in Miss Ross, I got to know that it seemed to be quite a settled thing between her and Captain Dyer; and Bantem, who got took on now as Lieutenant Leigh’s servant, used to tell his wife about how black those two seemed one towards the other.