Indian Tales is a Webnovel created by Rudyard Kipling.
This lightnovel is currently completed.
Now, the case stands thus. Unthinkingly, I have laid myself open to the charge of aiding and abetting the seal-cutter in obtaining money under false pretences, which is forbidden by Section 420 of the Indian Penal Code. I am helpless in the matter for these reasons. I cannot inform the Police. What witnesses would support my statements? Janoo refuses flatly, and Azizun is a veiled woman somewhere near Bareilly–lost in this big India of ours. I dare not again take the law into my own hands, and speak to the seal-cutter; for certain am I that, not only would Suddhoo disbelieve me, but this step would end in the poisoning of Janoo, who is bound hand and foot by her debt to the _bunnia_. Suddhoo is an old dotard; and whenever we meet mumbles my idiotic joke that the _Sirkar_ rather patronizes the Black Art than otherwise. His son is well now; but Suddhoo is completely under the influence of the seal-cutter, by whose advice he regulates the affairs of his life. Janoo watches daily the money that she hoped to wheedle out of Suddhoo taken by the seal-cutter, and becomes daily more furious and sullen.
She will never tell, because she dare not; but, unless something happens to prevent her, I am afraid that the seal-cutter will die of cholera–the white a.r.s.enic kind–about the middle of May. And thus I shall be privy to a murder in the House of Suddhoo.
BLACK JACK
To the wake av Tim O’Hara Came company, All St. Patrick’s Alley Was there to see.
_Robert Buchanan._
As the Three Musketeers share their silver, tobacco, and liquor together, as they protect each other in barracks or camp, and as they rejoice together over the joy of one, so do they divide their sorrows. When Ortheris’s irrepressible tongue has brought him into cells for a season, or Learoyd has run amok through his kit and accoutrements, or Mulvaney has indulged in strong waters, and under their influence reproved his Commanding Officer, you can see the trouble in the faces of the untouched two. And the rest of the regiment know that comment or jest is unsafe.
Generally the three avoid Orderly Room and the Corner Shop that follows, leaving both to the young bloods who have not sown their wild oats; but there are occasions–
For instance, Ortheris was sitting on the drawbridge of the main gate of Fort Amara, with his hands in his pockets and his pipe, bowl down, in his mouth. Learoyd was lying at full length on the turf of the glacis, kicking his heels in the air, and I came round the corner and asked for Mulvaney.
Ortheris spat into the ditch and shook his head. “No good seein’ ‘im now,”
said Ortheris; “‘e’s a bloomin’ camel. Listen.”
I heard on the flags of the veranda opposite to the cells, which are close to the Guard-Room, a measured step that I could have identified in the tramp of an army. There were twenty paces _crescendo_, a pause, and then twenty _diminuendo_.
“That’s ‘im,” said Ortheris; “my Gawd, that’s ‘im! All for a bloomin’
b.u.t.ton you could see your face in an’ a bit o’ lip that a bloomin’
Hark-angel would ‘a’ guv back.”
Mulvaney was doing pack-drill–was compelled, that is to say, to walk up and down for certain hours in full marching order, with rifle, bayonet, ammunition, knapsack, and overcoat. And his offence was being dirty on parade! I nearly fell into the Fort Ditch with astonishment and wrath, for Mulvaney is the smartest man that ever mounted guard, and would as soon think of turning out uncleanly as of dispensing with his trousers.
“Who was the Sergeant that checked him?” I asked.
“Mullins, o’ course,” said Ortheris. “There ain’t no other man would whip ‘im on the peg so. But Mullins ain’t a man. ‘E’s a dirty little pigsc.r.a.per, that’s wot ‘e is.”
“What did Mulvaney say? He’s not the make of man to take that quietly.”
“Said! Bin better for ‘im if ‘e’d shut ‘is mouth. Lord, ‘ow we laughed!
‘Sargint,’ ‘e sez, ‘ye say I’m dirty. Well,’ sez ‘e, ‘when your wife lets you blow your own nose for yourself, perhaps you’ll know wot dirt is.
You’re himperfectly eddicated, Sargint,’ sez ‘e, an’ then we fell in. But after p’rade, ‘e was up an’ Mullins was swearin’ ‘imself black in the face at Ord’ly Room that Mulvaney ‘ad called ‘im a swine an’ Lord knows wot all. You know Mullins. ‘E’ll ‘ave ‘is ‘ead broke in one o’ these days.
‘E’s too big a bloomin’ liar for ord’nary consumption. ‘Three hours’ can an’ kit,’ sez the Colonel; ‘not for bein’ dirty on p’rade, but for ‘avin’
said somthin’ to Mullins, tho’ I do not believe,’ sez ‘e, ‘you said wot ‘e said you said.’ An’ Mulvaney fell away sayin’ nothin’. You know ‘e never speaks to the Colonel for fear o’ gettin’ ‘imself fresh copped.”
Mullins, a very young and very much married Sergeant, whose manners were partly the result of innate depravity and partly of imperfectly digested Board School, came over the bridge, and most rudely asked Ortheris what he was doing.
“Me?” said Ortheris, “Ow! I’m waiting for my C’mission. ‘Seed it comin’
along yit?”
Mullins turned purple and pa.s.sed on. There was the sound of a gentle chuckle from the glacis where Learoyd lay.
“‘E expects to get ‘is C’mission some day,” explained Orth’ris; “Gawd ‘elp the Mess that ‘ave to put their ‘ands into the same kiddy as ‘im! Wot time d’you make it, sir? Fower! Mulvaney ‘ll be out in ‘arf an hour. You don’t want to buy a dorg, sir, do you? A pup you can trust–‘arf Rampore by the Colonel’s grey’ound.”
“Ortheris,” I answered, sternly, for I knew what was in his mind, “do you mean to say that”–
“I didn’t mean to arx money o’ you, any’ow,” said Ortheris; “I’d ‘a’ sold you the dorg good an’ cheap, but–but–I know Mulvaney ‘ll want somethin’
after we’ve walked ‘im orf, an’ I ain’t got nothin’, nor ‘e ‘asn’t neither, I’d sooner sell you the dorg, sir. ‘S’trewth! I would!”
A shadow fell on the drawbridge, and Ortheris began to rise into the air, lifted by a huge hand upon his collar.
“Onything but t’ braa.s.s,” said Learoyd, quietly, as he held the Londoner over the ditch. “Onything but t’ braa.s.s, Orth’ris, ma son! Ah’ve got one rupee eight annas of ma own.” He showed two coins, and replaced Ortheris on the drawbridge rail.
“Very good,” I said; “where are you going to?”
“Goin’ to walk ‘im orf wen ‘e comes out–two miles or three or fower,”
said Ortheris.
The footsteps within ceased. I heard the dull thud of a knapsack falling on a bedstead, followed by the rattle of arms. Ten minutes later, Mulvaney, faultlessly dressed, his lips tight and his face as black as a thunderstorm, stalked into the sunshine on the drawbridge. Learoyd and Ortheris sprang from my side and closed in upon him, both leaning toward as horses lean upon the pole. In an instant they had disappeared down the sunken road to the cantonments, and I was left alone. Mulvaney had not seen fit to recognize me; so I knew that his trouble must be heavy upon him.
I climbed one of the bastions and watched the figures of the Three Musketeers grow smaller and smaller across the plain. They were walking as fast as they could put foot to the ground, and their heads were bowed.
They fetched a great compa.s.s round the parade-ground, skirted the Cavalry lines, and vanished in the belt of trees that fringes the low land by the river.
I followed slowly, and sighted them–dusty, sweating, but still keeping up their long, swinging tramp–on the river bank. They crashed through the Forest Reserve, headed toward the Bridge of Boats, and presently established themselves on the bow of one of the pontoons. I rode cautiously till I saw three puffs of white smoke rise and die out in the clear evening air, and knew that peace had come again. At the bridge-head they waved me forward with gestures of welcome.
“Tie up your ‘orse,” shouted Ortheris, “an’ come on, sir. We’re all goin’
‘ome in this ‘ere bloomin’ boat.”
From the bridge-head to the Forest Officer’s bungalow is but a step. The mess-man was there, and would see that a man held my horse. Did the Sahib require aught else–a peg, or beer? Ritchie Sahib had left half a dozen bottles of the latter, but since the Sahib was a friend of Ritchie Sahib, and he, the mess-man, was a poor man–
I gave my order quietly, and returned to the bridge. Mulvaney had taken off his boots, and was dabbling his toes in the water; Learoyd was lying on his back on the pontoon; and Ortheris was pretending to row with a big bamboo.
“I’m an ould fool,” said Mulvaney, reflectively, “dhraggin’ you two out here bekaze I was undher the Black Dog–sulkin’ like a child. Me that was soldierin’ when Mullins, an’ be d.a.m.ned to him, was shquealin’ on a counterpin for five shillin’ a week–an’ that not paid! Bhoys, I’ve took you five miles out av natural pervarsity. Phew!”
“Wot’s the odds so long as you’re ‘appy?” said Ortheris, applying himself afresh to the bamboo. “As well ‘ere as anywhere else.”
Learoyd held up a rupee and an eight-anna bit, and shook his head sorrowfully. “Five mile from t’Canteen, all along o’ Mulvaney’s blasted pride.”
“I know ut,” said Mulvaney, penitently. “Why will ye come wid me? An’ yet I wud be mortial sorry if ye did not–any time–though I am ould enough to know betther. But I will do penance. I will take a dhrink av wather.”
Ortheris squeaked shrilly. The butler of the Forest bungalow was standing near the railings with a basket, uncertain how to clamber down to the pontoon. “Might ‘a’ know’d you’d ‘a’ got liquor out o’ bloomin’ desert, sir,” said Ortheris, gracefully, to me. Then to the mess-man: “Easy with them there bottles. They’re worth their weight in gold. Jock, ye long-armed beggar, get out o’ that an’ hike ’em down.”
Learoyd had the basket on the pontoon in an instant, and the Three Musketeers gathered round it with dry lips. They drank my health in due and ancient form, and thereafter tobacco tasted sweeter than ever. They absorbed all the beer, and disposed themselves in picturesque att.i.tudes to admire the setting sun–no man speaking for a while.
Mulvaney’s head dropped upon his chest, and we thought that he was asleep.
“What on earth did you come so far for?” I whispered to Ortheris.
“To walk ‘im orf, o’ course. When ‘e’s been checked we allus walks ‘im orf, ‘E ain’t fit to be spoke to those times–nor ‘e ain’t fit to leave alone neither. So we takes ‘im till ‘e is.”
Mulvaney raised his head, and stared straight into the sunset. “I had my rifle,” said he, dreamily, “an’ I had my bay’nit, an’ Mullins came round the corner, an’ he looked in my face an’ grinned dishpiteful. ‘_You_ can’t blow your own nose,’ sez he. Now, I cannot tell fwhat Mullins’s expayrience may ha’ been, but, Mother av G.o.d, he was nearer to his death that minut’ than I have iver been to mine–and that’s less than the thicknuss av a hair!”
“Yes,” said Ortheris, calmly, “you’d look fine with all your b.u.t.tons took orf, an’ the Band in front o’ you, walkin’ roun’ slow time. We’re both front-rank men, me an’ Jock, when the rig’ment’s in ‘ollow square, Bloomin’ fine you’d look. ‘The Lord giveth an’ the Lord taketh awai,–Heasy with that there drop!–Blessed be the naime o’ the Lord,'” he gulped in a quaint and suggestive fashion.
“Mullins! Wot’s Mullins?” said Learoyd, slowly. “Ah’d take a coomp’ny o’
Mullinses–ma hand behind me. Sitha, Mulvaney, don’t be a fool.”