CHAPTER VI.
GENIUS OF CHARACTER.
"For still the Lord is Lord of Might, In deeds, in deeds, He takes delight." --R. L. S.
Evelyn Desmond's picnic was an accomplished fact. At four o'clock, inthe full glare of a late March sun, a business-like detachment oftwenty horses, and one disdainful camel, proceeded at a brisk trotalong the lifeless desolation of the Bunnoo Road. The party kept inclose formation, straggling of any sort being inadmissible when thebounds of the station have been left behind. Ten of the riders wereEnglish, and an armed escort guarded them in front and rear; thecamel, in gala trappings of red and blue, being responsible forprovisions, enamelled iron tea-things, and the men's guns.
Notwithstanding the absence of the Kresneys, Evelyn Desmond was in amood of unusual effervescence. Harry Denvil rode at her side, and thetwo kept up a perpetual flow of such aimless, happy nonsense as is aptto engender vague regret in the hearts of those who have arrived atgreater wisdom.
Three miles of riding brought them to the welcome refreshment of ariver running crystal clear over a bed of pebbles. Beside the riverrose an isolated plateau--abrupt, inconsequent, and, like all thingselse in the tawny landscape, unsoftened by a blade of living green.
The face of the rock was riddled with rough, irregular holes, asthough Titans had been using it for a target. Around and above it abevy of blue rock-pigeons--circling, dipping, and darting with astrong rush of wings--shone like iridescent jewels, green and blue andgrey, against the unstained turquoise of the sky, whose intensity ofcolour made generous atonement for the lack of it on earth. At thefoot of the cliff a deep pool mirrored the calm wonder of the sky.
Here the camel was brought to his knees, and the escort, dismounting,formed a wide circle of sentries round the little party, the undernoteof danger suggested by their presence giving a distinct flavour to thechildishly simple affair. The white man's craze for carrying his foodmany miles from home, in order to eat it on the ground, remains aperpetual bewilderment to the natives, who express their opinion onthe matter in all frankness and simplicity by christening it the"dinner of fools."
Pigeon-shooting was the established amusement of afternoons spentunder the cliff; and, the meal being over, sport was soon in fullprogress, Frank Olliver and Mrs Jim Conolly handling their guns asskilfully as any man present.
While Honor stood watching them, Wyndham drew near and remained by herfor a few seconds without a word. Then: "Shall we go and sit over bythe river, Miss Meredith, and leave them to their sport?" he askedsuddenly, his eyes and voice more urgent than he knew.
"Yes; I'd far rather watch the birds than shoot them. They are toobeautiful to be killed for the sake of passing the time. But youprobably don't see it that way--men seldom do."
"I must be the eternal exception, then!" he answered, as they turnedaway. "It's not a creditable confession for a right-minded man: but Ishrink from taking life, even in the exigencies of my profession."
At that she turned upon him with a spontaneous frankness of interest,which had lured many men to their undoing.
"Will you think me very ill-mannered if I ask how you ever came tochoose such a profession at all? I wondered about it the first time Isaw you."
"Do I look as hopelessly unsoldier-like as all _that?_"
"No--a thousand times, no!" And the quick colour flamed in her cheeks.
"Well, then?"
"I only meant--I see a good deal in faces, and--yours gave me a strongimpression that you would prefer reading and thinking to acting andstriving."
His smile had in it both surprise and satisfaction.
"You were not far out there. Let us sit down on this rock for a bit. Iwould like to answer your question. May I light a cigarette?"
"Do."
He took his time over the simple operation. His impulse towardsunreserve puzzled him, and several seconds of silence passed before hespoke again; silence, emphasised by broken snatches of talk andlaughter; by the sharp crack of guns; and the whirring of a hundredwings, like the restless murmuring in the heart of a shell.
"It may sound strange to you," he began, not without an effort, "butthe truth is that my choice of a profession was simply the result ofmy friendship with Desmond. I think I told you we were at schooltogether. _His_ future was a foregone conclusion, and when it came tothe point--I chose just to throw in my lot with his. I am quite awarethat many people thought me a fool. But we have had twelve years of ittogether here, he and I; and it has certainly been good enough forme."
He spoke in a tone of great quietness, his eyes set upon the shiningreaches of the river which, by now, ran molten gold in the westeringsunlight.
"Thank you for telling me," she said; and the simple words set hispulses travelling at an unreasonable rate of speed. "I had no ideafriendship could ever mean quite so much."
"It doesn't in nine cases out of ten. But I think that's enough aboutmyself. It isn't my habit to entertain ladies with egotisticalmonologues!"
"But then, properly behaved ladies don't ask you direct personalquestions, do they?"
"Well--no--not often."
And they exchanged one of those smiles that ripen intimacy morespeedily than a month of talk.
"I'm quite unrepentant, all the same!" she said. "And I'm ratherwanting to ask you another. It's about Captain Desmond this time. MayI?"
"Ask away!"
"Well, I want to know more of how he won his V.C. Evelyn could give meno details when I asked her; and it struck me just now that you wereprobably there at the time."
"Yes, indeed, I _was_," he said, with a new ring in his voice. "Therewere a few bad minutes when we in the valley felt morally certain wehad seen the last of him."
She turned on him with kindling eyes.
"Oh, tell me--please! Tell me everything. I am soldier enough tounderstand."
"I verily believe you are! And, since you wish it, you shall have itin full. It happened during a rising of the Ghilzais six years ago.They had given us rather a stiff time of it for some weeks, and onthis occasion a strong body of them had to be dislodged from a heightwhere they were safely entrenched behind one of their stone sangars,ready to pick off any of us who should attempt the ascent. But thething had to be done, like many other hopeless-looking things, and aparty of infantry and cavalry were detailed for the duty,--a companyof Sikhs, and twenty-five dismounted men of Desmond's squadron, led byhimself. Our main force was stationed in the valley, you understand,and the advance was covered by three mountain guns. The men weredeployed in an extended line at the foot of the hill, and began acareful ascent, taking advantage of every scrap of cover available,the Ghilzais picking them off with deadly certainty whenever they gotthe smallest chance. About two-thirds of the way up Alla Dad Khan wasbowled over and lay out in the open dangerously wounded, under thefull brunt of the enemy's fire. In a flash Desmond was out from underthe rock he had just reached. He crossed that open space under a rainof bullets it made one sick to see, and got the poor fellow up in hisarms. It seemed a sheer impossibility for him to get back under coveralive, hampered as he was by the wounded man, who--as you know--is amuch bigger fellow than himself. I gave up every shred of hope as Iwatched, and one or two of the sowars near me broke down and criedlike children. But if ever I beheld a miracle it was during those fewastounding minutes--the worst I've ever known. His clothes wereriddled with bullets; two of them passed clean through his helmet; yetexcept for a flesh wound in the left arm, he was untouched."
Wyndham paused, and the girl drew in a long breath.
"Oh, I can see it all!" she said softly. "But isn't there more?"
"A little more, if you want it."
"Please."
"Well, the hill was successfully cleared, and you may imagine thewelcome we gave Theo, when at last he got back to camp, with hisuniform in ribbons and his helmet gone. I don't know when I've heardsuch cheering from natives. Besides saving the Jemadar, the success ofthe whole affair had been due to h
is leadership and example. Hewouldn't hear of it, of course; but when the account came out in the'Gazette,' he found himself belauded from start to finish, with a V.C.conferred on him to crown all. One couldn't say much to him even then.He's not the sort."
Honor's cheeks were on fire, her eyes like stars; and it ischaracteristic of Paul Wyndham that he noted these facts without ashadow of envy.
"The genuine modesty of genius," she said; and Paul bent his head inacquiescence.
"Theo's genius is of the best kind," he added; "it is genius ofcharacter, of a wide sympathetic understanding of men and things. Andon the Frontier, Miss Meredith, that sort of understanding counts formore than anywhere else in the country. We control our fellows here asmuch by love and respect as by mere discipline. Get a native to loveyou, and believe in you, and you are sure of him for good. That is whyofficers like Theo and your brother, who hold their men's hearts intheir hands, are, without exaggeration, the pillars on which thesafety of India rests. It is when the cry of 'Jehad' runs like firealong the Border, and the fidelity of our troops is being tamperedwith, that we get the clearest proof of this. At such times pay,pension, and Orders of Merit have no more power to restrain a Pathanthan a thread of cotton round his ankle. But there's just one thing hewill _not_ do--he will not desert, in his hour of need, an officerwhom he has found to be just, upright, and fearless, and whom he haspraised as a hero to his own people."
Wyndham's unwonted eloquence, and the glow of feeling underlying it,lifted the girl to fresh heights of enthusiasm.
"Oh, how glad I am to have come here!" she said with sudden fervour."Captain Desmond was talking in much the same strain just before westarted; and one cannot listen to him without catching the fire of hisenthusiasm, which is surely the best kind of fire that ever came downfrom heaven!"
Just as she finished speaking, Desmond himself strode up to them.
"I say, Paul, old man," he remonstrated, "isn't it some one else'sturn for an innings by this time? Mrs Conolly is keen to have a talkwith Miss Meredith before we start. You both looked so absorbed thatshe begged me not to interrupt! I ought to have introduced her to youbefore starting, Miss Meredith. She's the wife of our acting CivilSurgeon and quite an old friend of yours, it seems. Will you come?"
The girl rose and turned to Wyndham with a friendly smile. "You and Ican have our talk out another time, can't we?"
"By all means."
He sat watching her as she left him, with a tender concentration ofgaze, his brain stunned by a glimpse into undreamed-of possibilities;into a region of life whereof he knew nothing, and had believedhimself content to know nothing all his days.
Mrs Jim Conolly was a large woman, nearer forty than thirty. Twentyyears of India, of hot weathers resolutely endured, of stretchingsmall means to the utmost limit and beyond it, had left their mark, insallowness of skin, in broken lines of thought between her brows, andof restrained endurance about her firmly-closed lips. She had the airof a woman who has never allowed herself to be worsted by the minormiseries of life; and in India the minor miseries multiplyexceedingly. Unthinking observers stigmatised her face as harsh andunprepossessing; but it was softened and illumined by a glow ofgenuine welcome as she greeted Honor Meredith.
"I wonder if you have the smallest recollection of me?" she said. "Mylast glimpse of you was in a dak gharri at Pindi, when you were firststarting for home nineteen years ago, and the sight of what you havegrown into makes me feel a very old woman indeed! Do you rememberthose Pindi days at all?"
"Bits, here and there, quite vividly. I had been wondering already whyI seemed to know your face. It was you who had the two nice babies Iloved so dearly. Haven't you any for me to play with now?"
"Yes, my two youngest are still with me. But they are rather bigbabies by this time. You must come over and see them soon, and we willpick up the threads of our dropped friendship, Honor. Your father andmother were very good to me in the old days, but you were my chieffriend from the start. You have grown into a very beautiful woman,dear," she added, in a lower tone; "and if you ever want help oradvice while you are here alone, I hope you will turn to me for it asreadily as you would to your own mother. I haven't seen Lady Meredithfor years. Sit down under the cliff with me, and give me some news ofthem all."
By the time dusk had set in the little party was back again inDesmond's compound, the escort deserting them at the gate; and asHonor Meredith prepared to dismount, Paul Wyndham came forward, acertain restrained eagerness in his eyes.
"May I?" he asked, with the diffidence of a man unused to making suchrequests.
"I generally manage all right, thanks."
"You might make an exception, though--just this once."
For an instant of time his hands supported her--an instant of suchkeen sensation that, when it was passed, he pulled himself upsharply--called himself a fool, and in the same breath wished that shehad been a few degrees less skilful in springing lightly to theground.
Ready-made talk was, for the moment, beyond him; and he departedsomething hastily, leaving Honor and his friend alone together in thedarkening verandah.
Voices and laughter came out to them from the drawing-room, whereEvelyn and Denvil were carrying on their young foolishness withundiminished zeal; and Desmond turned upon the girl the irresistiblefriendliness of his eyes.
"You enjoyed yourself, I hope,--Miss Meredith?"
"Immensely, thank you,--Captain Desmond."
Her tone was a deliberate echo of his; and their eyes met in mutuallaughter.
"Aren't we good friends enough now to drop the formality?" he asked.And at the question a lightning vision came to her of the scene on thehillside, so vividly described by his friend.
"Yes--I think--we are," she said slowly.
"That's right. I think so too."
"I seem to have made quite an advance in that direction thisafternoon," she added, in no little surprise at her own boldness.
"How's that? Paul?"
"Yes."
"Oh! so that was the engrossing subject. I might have known Paulwasn't likely to be expatiating on himself."
"He gave me a stirring account of a certain day in October, six yearsago," she went on, with an unconscious softening of her voice.
Desmond's short laugh had in it a genuine touch of embarrassment.
"Did he? That was superfluous of him. The good fellow would have doneno less himself in the circumstances. Listen to those two children inthere! How finely they're enjoying themselves! I say, Harry!" heshouted to the invisible Denvil, who came forth straightway;--asquarely built, chestnut-haired boy, his sea-blue eyes still full oflaughter; "have you quite decided to invite yourself to dinner?"
"_Rather_--if you'll have me?"
"Of course I'll have you. Cut away and make yourself respectable."
And as the boy vanished in the darkness Desmond turned to find hiswife's figure in the open doorway, its purity of outline thrown intostrong relief by the light within.
She stood on the threshold balancing herself on the tips of her toesin a light-hearted ecstasy of unrest, and flung out both hands towardsher husband.
"Oh, Theo, it was delicious! I had lovely fun!"
She came and nestled close to him with the confiding simplicity of achild; and Honor, under cover of the dusk, slipped round by the backof the house to her own room.