Midnight Webs. Fenn George Manville

the next minute she disengaged herself from my grasp, and held out her little white hand to me, thanking me as sweetly as thanks could be given.

      “Perhaps you had better not say a word about it,” she whispered. “He’s come under pretence of seeing the nurse, and been rude to me once or twice before. I came here to sit at that window with my work, and did not see him come behind me.”

      I started as she spoke about that open window, for it looked out upon the spot where I sometimes stood sentry; but then, Harry Lant sometimes stood just in the same place, and I don’t know whether it was a strange impression caused by his coming that made me think of him, but just then there were footsteps, and, with his pipe in his mouth, and fatigue-jacket all unbuttoned, Harry entered the room.

      “Beg pardon; didn’t know it was engaged,” he says lightly, as he stepped back; and then he stopped, for Lizzy called to him by his name.

      “Please walk back with me to Mrs Maine’s quarters,” she said softly; and once more holding her hand out to me, with her eyes cast down, she thanked me; and the question I had been asking myself – Did she love Harry Lant better than me? – was to my mind answered, and I gave a groan as I saw them walk off together, for it struck me then that they had engaged to meet in that room, only Harry Lant was late.

      “Never mind,” I says to myself; “I’ve done a comrade a good turn.” And then I thought more and more of there being a feeling in the blacks’ minds that their day was coming, or that ill-looking scoundrel would never have dared to insult a white woman in open day.

      Ten minutes after, I was on my way to Captain Dyer, for, in spite of what Lizzy had said, I felt that, being under orders, it was my duty to report all that occurred with the blacks; for we might at any time have been under siege, and to have had unknown and treacherous enemies in the camp would have been ruin indeed.

      “Well, Smith,” he said, smiling as I entered and saluted, “what news of the enemy?”

      “Not much, sir,” I said; what I had to tell going, as I have before hinted, very much against the grain. “I was in one of the empty rooms on the south side, when I heard a scream, and running up, I found it was Miss Ross – ”

      “What!” he roared, in a voice that would have startled a stronger man than I.

      “Miss Ross’s maid, sir, with that black fellow Chunder, the mahout, trying to kiss her.”

      “Well?” he said, with a black angry look overspreading his face.

      “Well, sir,” I said, feeling quite red as I spoke, “he kissed my fist instead – that’s all.”

      Captain Dyer began to walk up and down, playing with one of the buttons on his breast, as was his way when eager and excited.

      “Now, Smith,” he said at last, stopping short before me, “what does that mean?”

      “Mean, sir?” I said, feeling quite as excited as himself. “Well, sir, if you ask me, I say that if it was in time of peace and quiet, it would only mean that it was a hit of his damned black – I beg your pardon, captain,” I says, stopping short, for, you see, it was quite time.

      “Go on, Smith,” he said quietly.

      “His black impudence, sir.”

      “But, as it is not in time of peace and quiet, Smith?” he said, looking me through and through.

      “Well, sir,” I said, “I don’t want to croak, nor for other people to believe what I say; but it seems to me that that black fellow’s kicking out of the ranks means a good deal; and I take it that he is excited with the news that he has somehow got hold of – news that is getting into his head like so much green ’rack. I’ve thought of it some little time now, sir; and it strikes me that if, instead of our short company being Englishmen, they were all Chunder Chows, before to-morrow morning, begging your pardon, Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh would have said ‘Right wheel’ for the last time.”

      “And the women and children!” he muttered softly; but I heard him.

      He did not speak then for quite half a minute, when he turned to me with a pleasant smile.

      “But you see, though, Smith,” he said, “our short company is made up of different stuff; and therefore there’s some hope for us yet; but – Ah, Leigh, did you hear what he said?”

      “Yes,” said the lieutenant, who had been standing at the door for a few moments, scowling at as both.

      “Well, what do you think?” said Captain Dyer.

      “Think?” said Lieutenant Leigh contemptuously, as he turned away – “nothing!”

      “But,” said Captain Dyer quietly, “really I think there is much truth in what he, an observant man, says.”

      There was a challenge from the roof just then; and we all went out to find that a mounted man was in sight; and on the captain making use of his glass, I heard him tell Lieutenant Leigh that the man was an orderly dragoon.

      A few minutes after, the new-comer was plain enough to everybody; and soon, man and horse dead beat, the orderly with a despatch trotted into the court.

      It was a sight worth seeing, to look upon Mrs Maine clutching at the letter enclosed for her in Captain Dyer’s despatch. Poor woman! it was a treasure to her – one that made her pant as she hurriedly snatched it from the captain’s hand, for all formality was forgotten in those days; and then she hurried away to where her sister was waiting to hear the news.

      Story 1-Chapter X

      The orderly took back a despatch from Captain Dyer, starting at daybreak the next morning; but before then, we all knew that matters were getting to wear a terrible aspect. At first, I had been disposed to think that the orderly was romancing, and giving as a few travellers’ tales; but I soon found out that he was in earnest; and more than once I felt a shiver as he sat with our mess, telling as of how regiment after regiment had mutinied and murdered their officers; how station after station had been plundered, collectors butchered, and their wives and daughters sometimes cut down, sometimes carried off by the wretches, who had made a sport of throwing infants from one to the other on their bayonets.

      “I never had any children,” sobbed Mrs Bantem then; “and I never wished to have any; for they’re not right for soldiers’ wives; but only to think – the poor sweet, suffering little things. O, if I’d only been a man, and been there!”

      We none of us said anything; but I believe all thought as I did, that if Mrs Bantem had been there, she’d have done as much – ah, perhaps more – than some men would have done. Bless my soul! as I think of it, and recall it from the bygone, there I can see Mother Bantem – though why we called her mother, I don’t know, unless it was because she was like a mother to us – with her great strapping form; and think of the way in which she —

      Halt! Retire by fours from the left.

      Just in time; for I find handling my pen’s like handling a commander-in-chief’s staff, and that I’ve got letters which make words, which make phrases, which make sentences, which make paragraphs, which make chapters, which make up the whole story; and that is for all the world like the army with its privates made into companies, and battalions, and regiments, and brigades. Well, there you are: if you don’t have discipline, and every private in his right place, where are you? Just so with me; my words were coming out in the wrong places, and in another minute I should have spoiled my story, by letting you know what was coming at the wrong time.

      Well, we all felt very deeply the news brought in by that orderly; for soldiers are not such harum-scarum roughs as some people seem to imagine. For the most part, they’re men with the same feelings as civilians; and I don’t think many of us slept very sound that night, feeling as we did what a charge we had, and that we might be attacked at any time; and a good deal of my anxiety was on account of Lizzy Green; for even if she wouldn’t be my wife, but Harry Lant’s, I could not help taking a wonderful deal of interest in her.

      But all the same it was a terribly awkward time, as you must own, for