THE COURTING OF DINAH SHADD
What did the colonel's lady think? Nobody never knew. Somebody asked the sergeant's wife An' she told 'em true. When you git to a man in the case They're like a row o' pins, For the colonel's lady an' Judy O'Grady Are sisters under their skins. BARRACK-ROOM BALLAD.
Al day I had followed at the heels of a pursuing army engaged on one ofthe finest battles that ever camp of exercise beheld. Thirty thousandtroops had by the wisdom of the Government of India been turned looseover a few thousand square miles of country to practise in peace whatthey would never attempt in war. Consequently cavalry charged unshakeninfantry at the trot. Infantry captured artillery by frontal attacksdelivered in line of quarter columns, and mounted infantry skirmishedup to the wheels of an armoured train which carried nothing more deadlythan a twenty-five pounder Armstrong, two Nordenfeldts, and a few scorevolunteers all cased in three-eighths-inch boiler-plate. Yet it was avery lifelike camp. Operations did not cease at sundown; nobody knewthe country and nobody spared man or horse. There was unending cavalryscouting and almost unending forced work over broken ground. The Army ofthe South had finally pierced the centre of the Army of the North, andwas pouring through the gap hot-foot to capture a city of strategicimportance. Its front extended fanwise, the sticks being represented byregiments strung out along the line of route backwards to the divisionaltransport columns and all the lumber that trails behind an army on themove. On its right the broken left of the Army of the North was flyingin mass, chased by the Southern horse and hammered by the Southern gunstill these had been pushed far beyond the limits of their last support.Then the flying sat down to rest, while the elated commandant of thepursuing force telegraphed that he held all in check and observation.
Unluckily he did not observe that three miles to his right flank aflying column of Northern horse with a detachment of Ghoorkhas andBritish troops had been pushed round, as fast as the failing lightallowed, to cut across the entire rear of the Southern Army, to break,as it were, all the ribs of the fan where they converged by strikingat the transport, reserve ammunition, and artillery supplies. Theirinstructions were to go in, avoiding the few scouts who might not havebeen drawn off by the pursuit, and create sufficient excitement toimpress the Southern Army with the wisdom of guarding their own flankand rear before they captured cities. It was a pretty manoeuvre, neatlycarried out.
Speaking for the second division of the Southern Army, our firstintimation of the attack was at twilight, when the artillery werelabouring in deep sand, most of the escort were trying to help themout, and the main body of the infantry had gone on. A Noah's Ark ofelephants, camels, and the mixed menagerie of an Indian transport-trainbubbled and squealed behind the guns when there appeared from nowhere inparticular British infantry to the extent of three companies, who sprangto the heads of the gun-horses and brought all to a standstill amidoaths and cheers.
'How's that, umpire?' said the major commanding the attack, and with onevoice the drivers and limber gunners answered 'Hout!' while the colonelof artillery sputtered.
'All your scouts are charging our main body,' said the major. 'Yourflanks are unprotected for two miles. I think we've broken the back ofthis division. And listen,--there go the Ghoorkhas!'
A weak fire broke from the rear-guard more than a mile away, and wasanswered by cheerful howlings. The Ghoorkhas, who should have swungclear of the second division, had stepped on its tail in the dark, butdrawing off hastened to reach the next line of attack, which lay almostparallel to us five or six miles away.
Our column swayed and surged irresolutely,--three batteries, thedivisional ammunition reserve, the baggage, and a section of thehospital and bearer corps. The commandant ruefully promised to reporthimself 'cut up' to the nearest umpire, and commending his cavalry andall other cavalry to the special care of Eblis, toiled on to resumetouch with the rest of the division.
'We'll bivouac here to-night,' said the major, 'I have a notion that theGhoorkhas will get caught. They may want us to re-form on. Stand easytill the transport gets away.'
A hand caught my beast's bridle and led him out of the choking dust; alarger hand deftly canted me out of the saddle; and two of the hugesthands in the world received me sliding. Pleasant is the lot of thespecial correspondent who falls into such hands as those of PrivatesMulvaney, Ortheris, and Learoyd.
'An' that's all right,' said the Irishman calmly. 'We thought we'd findyou somewheres here by. Is there anything av yours in the transport?Orth'ris 'll fetch ut out.'
Ortheris did 'fetch ut out,' from under the trunk of an elephant, in theshape of a servant and an animal both laden with medical comforts. Thelittle man's eyes sparkled.
'If the brutil an' licentious soldiery av these parts gets sight av thethruck,' said Mulvaney, making practised investigations, 'they'll lootev'rything. They're bein' fed on iron-filin's an' dog-biscuit thesedays, but glory's no compensation for a belly-ache. Praise be, we'rehere to protect you, sorr. Beer, sausage, bread (soft an' that's acur'osity), soup in a tin, whisky by the smell av ut, an' fowls! Motherav Moses, but ye take the field like a confectioner! 'Tis scand'lus.'
'Ere's a orficer,' said Ortheris significantly. 'When the sergent's donelushin' the privit may clean the pot.'
I bundled several things into Mulvaney's haversack before the major'shand fell on my shoulder and he said tenderly, 'Requisitioned for theQueen's service. Wolseley was quite wrong about special correspondents:they are the soldier's best friends. Come and take pot-luck with usto-night.'
And so it happened amid laughter and shoutings that my well-consideredcommissariat melted away to reappear later at the mess-table, which wasa waterproof sheet spread on the ground. The flying column had takenthree days' rations with it, and there be few things nastier thangovernment rations--especially when government is experimentingwith German toys. Erbsenwurst, tinned beef of surpassing tinniness,compressed vegetables, and meat-biscuits may be nourishing, but whatThomas Atkins needs is bulk in his inside. The major, assisted byhis brother officers, purchased goats for the camp and so made theexperiment of no effect. Long before the fatigue-party sent to collectbrushwood had returned, the men were settled down by their valises,kettles and pots had appeared from the surrounding country and weredangling over fires as the kid and the compressed vegetable bubbledtogether; there rose a cheerful clinking of mess-tins; outrageousdemands for 'a little more stuffin' with that there liver-wing;' andgust on gust of chaff as pointed as a bayonet and as delicate as agun-butt.
'The boys are in a good temper,' said the major. 'They'll be singingpresently. Well, a night like this is enough to keep them happy.'
Over our heads burned the wonderful Indian stars, which are not allpricked in on one plane, but, preserving an orderly perspective, drawthe eye through the velvet darkness of the void up to the barred doorsof heaven itself. The earth was a gray shadow more unreal than the sky.We could hear her breathing lightly in the pauses between the howling ofthe jackals, the movement of the wind in the tamarisks, and the fitfulmutter of musketry-fire leagues away to the left. A native woman fromsome unseen hut began to sing, the mail-train thundered past on itsway to Delhi, and a roosting crow cawed drowsily. Then there was abelt-loosening silence about the fires, and the even breathing of thecrowded earth took up the story.
The men, full fed, turned to tobacco and song,--their officers withthem. The subaltern is happy who can win the approval of the musicalcritics in his regiment, and is honoured among the more intricatestep-dancers. By him, as by him who plays cricket cleverly, ThomasAtkins will stand in time of need, when he will let a better officergo on alone. The ruined tombs of forgotten Mussulman saints heard theballad of Agra Town, The Buffalo Battery, Marching to Kabul, The long,long Indian Day, The Place where the Punkah-coolie died, and thatcrashing chorus which announces,
Youth's daring spirit, manhood's fire, Firm hand and eagle eye, Must he acquire who would aspire To see the
gray boar die.
To-day, of all those jovial thieves who appropriated my commissariat andlay and laughed round that water-proof sheet, not one remains. They wentto camps that were not of exercise and battles without umpires. Burmah,the Soudan, and the frontier,--fever and fight,--took them in theirtime.
I drifted across to the men's fires in search of Mulvaney, whom Ifound strategically greasing his feet by the blaze. There is nothingparticularly lovely in the sight of a private thus engaged after a longday's march, but when you reflect on the exact proportion of the 'might,majesty, dominion, and power' of the British Empire which stands onthose feet you take an interest in the proceedings.
'There's a blister, bad luck to ut, on the heel,' said Mulvaney. 'Ican't touch ut. Prick ut out, little man.'
Ortheris took out his house-wife, eased the trouble with a needle,stabbed Mulvaney in the calf with the same weapon, and was swiftlykicked into the fire.
'I've bruk the best av my toes over you, ye grinnin' child avdisruption,' said Mulvaney, sitting cross-legged and nursing his feet;then seeing me, 'Oh, ut's you, sorr! Be welkim, an' take that maraudin'scutt's place. Jock, hold him down on the cindhers for a bit.'
But Ortheris escaped and went elsewhere, as I took possession of thehollow he had scraped for himself and lined with his greatcoat. Learoydon the other side of the fire grinned affably and in a minute fell fastasleep.
'There's the height av politeness for you,' said Mulvaney, lightinghis pipe with a flaming branch. 'But Jock's eaten half a box av yoursardines at wan gulp, an' I think the tin too. What's the best wid you,sorr, an' how did you happen to be on the losin' side this day whin wecaptured you?'
'The Army of the South is winning all along the line,' I said.
'Then that line's the hangman's rope, savin' your presence. You'lllearn to-morrow how we rethreated to dhraw thim on before we made thimtrouble, an' that's what a woman does. By the same tokin, we'll beattacked before the dawnin' an' ut would be betther not to slip yourboots. How do I know that? By the light av pure reason. Here are threecompanies av us ever so far inside av the enemy's flank an' a crowd avroarin', tarin', squealin' cavalry gone on just to turn out the wholehornet's nest av them. Av course the enemy will pursue, by brigades likeas not, an' thin we'll have to run for ut. Mark my words. I am av theopinion av Polonius whin he said, "Don't fight wid ivry scutt for thepure joy av fightin', but if you do, knock the nose av him first an'frequint." We ought to ha' gone on an' helped the Ghoorkhas.'
'But what do you know about Polonius?' I demanded. This was a new sideof Mulvaney's character.
'All that Shakespeare iver wrote an' a dale more that the galleryshouted,' said the man of war, carefully lacing his boots. 'Did I nottell you av Silver's theatre in Dublin, whin I was younger than I am nowan' a patron av the drama? Ould Silver wud never pay actor-man or womantheir just dues, an' by consequince his comp'nies was collapsible at thelast minut. Thin the bhoys wud clamour to take a part, an' oft as notould Silver made them pay for the fun. Faith, I've seen Hamlut playedwid a new black eye an' the queen as full as a cornucopia. I remimberwanst Hogin that 'listed in the Black Tyrone an' was shot in SouthAfrica, he sejuced ould Silver into givin' him Hamlut's part instid avme that had a fine fancy for rhetoric in those days. Av course I wintinto the gallery an' began to fill the pit wid other people's hats,an' I passed the time av day to Hogin walkin' through Denmark like ahamstrung mule wid a pall on his back. "Hamlut," sez I, "there's a holein your heel. Pull up your shtockin's, Hamlut," sez I, "Hamlut, Hamlut,for the love av decincy dhrop that skull an' pull up your shtockin's."The whole house begun to tell him that. He stopped his soliloquishmsmid-between. "My shtockin's may be comin' down or they may not," sezhe, screwin' his eye into the gallery, for well he knew who I was. "Butafther this performince is over me an' the Ghost 'll trample the tripesout av you, Terence, wid your ass's bray!" An' that's how I come to knowabout Hamlut. Eyah! Those days, those days! Did you iver have onendin'devilmint an' nothin' to pay for it in your life, sorr?'
'Never, without having to pay,' I said.
'That's thrue! 'Tis mane whin you considher on ut; but ut's the same widhorse or fut. A headache if you dhrink, an' a belly-ache if you eat toomuch, an' a heart-ache to kape all down. Faith, the beast only gets thecolic, an' he's the lucky man.'
He dropped his head and stared into the fire, fingering his moustachethe while. From the far side of the bivouac the voice of Corbet-Nolan,senior subaltern of B company, uplifted itself in an ancient and muchappreciated song of sentiment, the men moaning melodiously behind him.
The north wind blew coldly, she drooped from that hour, My own little Kathleen, my sweet little Kathleen, Kathleen, my Kathleen, Kathleen O'Moore!
With forty-five O's in the last word: even at that distance you mighthave cut the soft South Irish accent with a shovel.
'For all we take we must pay, but the price is cruel high,' murmuredMulvaney when the chorus had ceased.
'What's the trouble?' I said gently, for I knew that he was a man of aninextinguishable sorrow.
'Hear now,' said he. 'Ye know what I am now. _I_ know what I mint to beat the beginnin' av my service. I've tould you time an' again, an' whatI have not Dinah Shadd has. An' what am I? Oh, Mary Mother av Hiven, anould dhrunken, untrustable baste av a privit that has seen the reg'mentchange out from colonel to drummer-boy, not wanst or twice, but scoresav times! Ay, scores! An' me not so near gettin' promotion as in thefirst! An' me livin' on an' kapin' clear av clink, not by my own goodconduck, but the kindness av some orf'cer-bhoy young enough to be sonto me! Do I not know ut? Can I not tell whin I'm passed over at p'rade,tho' I'm rockin' full av liquor an' ready to fall all in wan piece,such as even a suckin' child might see, bekaze, "Oh, 'tis only ouldMulvaney!" An' whin I'm let off in ord'ly-room through some thrick ofthe tongue an' a ready answer an' the ould man's mercy, is ut smilin'I feel whin I fall away an' go back to Dinah Shadd, thryin' to carry utall off as a joke? Not I! 'Tis hell to me, dumb hell through ut all;an' next time whin the fit comes I will be as bad again. Good cause thereg'ment has to know me for the best soldier in ut. Better cause have Ito know mesilf for the worst man. I'm only fit to tache the new draftswhat I'll niver learn mesilf; an' I am sure, as tho' I heard ut, thatthe minut wan av these pink-eyed recruities gets away from my "Mindye now," an' "Listen to this, Jim, bhoy,"--sure I am that thesergint houlds me up to him for a warnin'. So I tache, as they say atmusketry-instruction, by direct and ricochet fire. Lord be good to me,for I have stud some throuble!'
'Lie down and go to sleep,' said I, not being able to comfort or advise.'You're the best man in the regiment, and, next to Ortheris, the biggestfool. Lie down and wait till we're attacked. What force will they turnout? Guns, think you?'
'Try that wid your lorrds an' ladies, twistin' an' turnin' the talk,tho' you mint ut well. Ye cud say nothin' to help me, an' yet ye niverknew what cause I had to be what I am.'
'Begin at the beginning and go on to the end,' I said royally. 'But rakeup the fire a bit first.'
I passed Ortheris's bayonet for a poker.
'That shows how little we know what we do,' said Mulvaney, putting itaside. 'Fire takes all the heart out av the steel, an' the next time,may be, that our little man is fighting for his life his bradawl'll break, an' so you'll ha' killed him, manin' no more than to kapeyourself warm. 'Tis a recruity's thrick that. Pass the clanin'-rod,sorr.'
I snuggled down abased; and after an interval the voice of Mulvaneybegan.
'Did I iver tell you how Dinah Shadd came to be wife av mine?'
I dissembled a burning anxiety that I had felt for some months--eversince Dinah Shadd, the strong, the patient, and the infinitely tender,had of her own good love and free will washed a shirt for me, moving ina barren land where washing was not.
'I can't remember,' I said casually. 'Was it before or after you madelove to Annie Bragin, and got no satisfaction?'
The story of Annie Bragin is written in another place. It is one of themany less res
pectable episodes in Mulvaney's chequered career.
'Before--before--long before, was that business av Annie Bragin an' thecorp'ril's ghost. Niver woman was the worse for me whin I had marriedDinah. There's a time for all things, an' I know how to kape all thingsin place--barrin' the dhrink, that kapes me in my place wid no hope avcomin' to be aught else.'
'Begin at the beginning,' I insisted. 'Mrs. Mulvaney told me that youmarried her when you were quartered in Krab Bokhar barracks.'
'An' the same is a cess-pit,' said Mulvaney piously. 'She spoke thrue,did Dinah. 'Twas this way. Talkin' av that, have ye iver fallen in love,sorr?'
I preserved the silence of the damned. Mulvaney continued--
'Thin I will assume that ye have not. _I_ did. In the days av my youth,as I have more than wanst tould you, I was a man that filled the eye an'delighted the sowl av women. Niver man was hated as I have bin. Niverman was loved as I--no, not within half a day's march av ut! For thefirst five years av my service, whin I was what I wud give my sowl to benow, I tuk whatever was within my reach an' digested ut--an that'smore than most men can say. Dhrink I tuk, an' ut did me no harm. By theHollow av Hiven, I cud play wid four women at wanst, an' kape them fromfindin' out anythin' about the other three, an' smile like a full-blownmarigold through ut all. Dick Coulhan, av the battery we'll have down onus to-night, could drive his team no betther than I mine, an' I hildthe worser cattle! An' so I lived, an' so I was happy till aftherthat business wid Annie Bragin--she that turned me off as cool as ameat-safe, an' taught me where I stud in the mind av an honest woman.'Twas no sweet dose to swallow.
'Afther that I sickened awhile an' tuk thought to my reg'mental work;conceiting mesilf I wud study an' be a sergint, an' a major-gineraltwinty minutes afther that. But on top av my ambitiousness there was anempty place in my sowl, an' me own opinion av mesilf cud not fill ut.Sez I to mesilf, "Terence, you're a great man an' the best set-up in thereg'mint. Go on an' get promotion." Sez mesilf to me, "What for?" SezI to mesilf, "For the glory av ut!" Sez mesilf to me, "Will that fillthese two strong arrums av yours, Terence?" "Go to the devil," sez Ito mesilf. "Go to the married lines," sez mesilf to me. "'Tis the samething," sez I to mesilf. "Av you're the same man, ut is," said mesilfto me; an' wid that I considhered on ut a long while. Did you iver feelthat way, sorr?'
I snored gently, knowing that if Mulvaney were uninterrupted he wouldgo on. The clamour from the bivouac fires beat up to the stars, as therival singers of the companies were pitted against each other.
'So I felt that way an' a bad time ut was. Wanst, bein' a fool, Iwint into the married lines more for the sake av spakin' to our ouldcolour-sergint Shadd than for any thruck wid women-folk. I was acorp'ril then--rejuced aftherwards, but a corp'ril then. I've got aphotograft av mesilf to prove ut. "You'll take a cup av tay wid us?" sezShadd. "I will that," I sez, "tho' tay is not my divarsion."
'"'Twud be better for you if ut were," sez ould Mother Shadd, an'she had ought to know, for Shadd, in the ind av his service, dhrankbung-full each night.
'Wid that I tuk off my gloves--there was pipe-clay in thim, so that theystud alone--an' pulled up my chair, lookin' round at the china ornamentsan' bits av things in the Shadds' quarters. They were things thatbelonged to a man, an' no camp-kit, here to-day an' dishipated next."You're comfortable in this place, sergint," sez I. "'Tis the wifethat did ut, boy," sez he, pointin' the stem av his pipe to ould MotherShadd, an' she smacked the top av his bald head apon the compliment."That manes you want money," sez she.
'An' thin--an' thin whin the kettle was to be filled, Dinah came in--myDinah--her sleeves rowled up to the elbow an' her hair in a winkin'glory over her forehead, the big blue eyes beneath twinklin' likestars on a frosty night, an' the tread av her two feet lighter thanwaste-paper from the colonel's basket in ord'ly-room whin ut's emptied.Bein' but a shlip av a girl she went pink at seein' me, an' I twisted memoustache an' looked at a picture forninst the wall. Niver show awoman that ye care the snap av a finger for her, an' begad she'll comebleatin' to your boot-heels!'
'I suppose that's why you followed Annie Bragin till everybody in themarried quarters laughed at you,' said I, remembering that unhallowedwooing and casting off the disguise of drowsiness.
'I'm layin' down the gin'ral theory av the attack,' said Mulvaney,driving his boot into the dying fire. 'If you read the Soldier'sPocket Book, which niver any soldier reads, you'll see that thereare exceptions. Whin Dinah was out av the door (an' 'twas as tho' thesunlight had shut too)--"Mother av Hiven, sergint," sez I, "but is thatyour daughter?"--"I've believed that way these eighteen years," sez ouldShadd, his eyes twinklin'; "but Mrs. Shadd has her own opinion, likeiv'ry woman,"--"'Tis wid yours this time, for a mericle," sez MotherShadd. "Thin why in the name av fortune did I niver see her before?"sez I. "Bekaze you've been thrapesin' round wid the married women thesethree years past. She was a bit av a child till last year, an' she shotup wid the spring," sez ould Mother Shadd. "I'll thrapese no more," sezI. "D'you mane that?" sez ould Mother Shadd, lookin' at me side-wayslike a hen looks at a hawk whin the chickens are runnin' free. "Try me,an' tell," sez I. Wid that I pulled on my gloves, dhrank off the tay,an' went out av the house as stiff as at gin'ral p'rade, for well I knewthat Dinah Shadd's eyes were in the small av my back out av the scullerywindow. Faith! that was the only time I mourned I was not a cav'lry-manfor the pride av the spurs to jingle.
'I wint out to think, an' I did a powerful lot av thinkin', but ut allcame round to that shlip av a girl in the dotted blue dhress, wid theblue eyes an' the sparkil in them. Thin I kept off canteen, an' I keptto the married quarthers, or near by, on the chanst av meetin' Dinah.Did I meet her? Oh, my time past, did I not; wid a lump in my throat asbig as my valise an' my heart goin' like a farrier's forge on a Saturdaymorning? 'Twas "Good day to ye, Miss Dinah," an' "Good day t'you,corp'ril," for a week or two, and divil a bit further could I get bekazeav the respect I had to that girl that I cud ha' broken betune fingeran' thumb.'
Here I giggled as I recalled the gigantic figure of Dinah Shadd when shehanded me my shirt.
'Ye may laugh,' grunted Mulvaney. 'But I'm speakin' the trut', an'tis you that are in fault. Dinah was a girl that wud ha' taken theimperiousness out av the Duchess av Clonmel in those days. Flower hand,foot av shod air, an' the eyes av the livin' mornin' she had that is mywife to-day--ould Dinah, and niver aught else than Dinah Shadd to me.
''Twas after three weeks standin' off an' on, an' niver makin' headwayexcipt through the eyes, that a little drummer-boy grinned in me facewhin I had admonished him wid the buckle av my belt for riotin' all overthe place. "An' I'm not the only wan that doesn't kape to barricks,"sez he. I tuk him by the scruff av his neck,--my heart was hung on ahair-thrigger those days, you will onderstand--an' "Out wid ut," sez I,"or I'll lave no bone av you unbreakable."--"Speak to Dempsey," sez hehowlin'. "Dempsey which?" sez I, "ye unwashed limb av Satan."--"Av theBob-tailed Dhragoons," sez he. "He's seen her home from her aunt'shouse in the civil lines four times this fortnight."--"Child!" sezI, dhroppin' him, "your tongue's stronger than your body. Go to yourquarters. I'm sorry I dhressed you down."
'At that I went four ways to wanst huntin' Dempsey. I was mad to thinkthat wid all my airs among women I shud ha' been chated by a basin-facedfool av a cav'lry-man not fit to trust on a trunk. Presintly I foundhim in our lines--the Bobtails was quartered next us--an' a tallowy,topheavy son av a she-mule he was wid his big brass spurs an' hisplastrons on his epigastrons an' all. But he niver flinched a hair.
'"A word wid you, Dempsey," sez I. "You've walked wid Dinah Shadd fourtimes this fortnight gone."
'"What's that to you?" sez he. "I'll walk forty times more, an' forty ontop av that, ye shovel-futted clod-breakin' infantry lance-corp'ril."
'Before I cud gyard he had his gloved fist home on my cheek an' downI went full-sprawl. "Will that content you?" sez he, blowin' on hisknuckles for all the world like a Scots Greys orf'cer. "Content!" sezI. "For your own sake, man, take off your spurs, peel your jacku
t, an'onglove. 'Tis the beginnin' av the overture; stand up!"
'He stud all he know, but he niver peeled his jackut, an' his shouldershad no fair play. I was fightin' for Dinah Shadd an' that cut on mycheek. What hope had he forninst me? "Stand up," sez I, time an' againwhin he was beginnin' to quarter the ground an' gyard high an' go large."This isn't ridin'-school," I sez. "O man, stand up an' let me get inat ye." But whin I saw he wud be runnin' about, I grup his shtock inmy left an' his waist-belt in my right an' swung him clear to my rightfront, head undher, he hammerin' my nose till the wind was knocked outav him on the bare ground. "Stand up," sez I, "or I'll kick your headinto your chest!" and I wud ha' done ut too, so ragin' mad I was.
'"My collar-bone's bruk," sez he. "Help me back to lines. I'll walk widher no more." So I helped him back.'
'And was his collar-bone broken?' I asked, for I fancied that onlyLearoyd could neatly accomplish that terrible throw.
'He pitched on his left shoulder-point. Ut was. Next day the news was inboth barricks, an' whin I met Dinah Shadd wid a cheek on me like all thereg'mintal tailor's samples there was no "Good mornin', corp'ril,"or aught else. "An' what have I done, Miss Shadd," sez I, very bould,plantin' mesilf forninst her, "that ye should not pass the time of day?"
'"Ye've half-killed rough-rider Dempsey," sez she, her dear blue eyesfillin' up.
'"May be," sez I. "Was he a friend av yours that saw ye home four timesin the fortnight?"
'"Yes," sez she, but her mouth was down at the corners. "An'--an' what'sthat to you?" she sez.
'"Ask Dempsey," sez I, purtendin' to go away.
'"Did you fight for me then, ye silly man?" she sez, tho' she knew utall along.
'"Who else?" sez I, an' I tuk wan pace to the front.
'"I wasn't worth ut," sez she, fingerin' in her apron,
'"That's for me to say," sez I. "Shall I say ut?"
'"Yes," sez she in a saint's whisper, an' at that I explained mesilf;and she tould me what ivry man that is a man, an' many that is a woman,hears wanst in his life.
'"But what made ye cry at startin', Dinah, darlin'?'" sez I.
'"Your--your bloody cheek," sez she, duckin' her little head down on mysash (I was on duty for the day) an' whimperin' like a sorrowful angil.
'Now a man cud take that two ways. I tuk ut as pleased me best an' myfirst kiss wid ut. Mother av Innocence! but I kissed her on the tipav the nose an' undher the eye; an' a girl that let's a kiss cometumble-ways like that has never been kissed before. Take note av that,sorr. Thin we wint hand in hand to ould Mother Shadd like two littlechildher, an' she said 'twas no bad thing, an' ould Shadd nodded behindhis pipe, an' Dinah ran away to her own room. That day I throd onrollin' clouds. All earth was too small to hould me. Begad, I cud ha'hiked the sun out av the sky for a live coal to my pipe, so magnificentI was. But I tuk recruities at squad-drill instid, an' began wid generalbattalion advance whin I shud ha' been balance-steppin' them. Eyah! thatday! that day!'
A very long pause. 'Well?' said I.
''Twas all wrong,' said Mulvaney, with an enormous sigh. 'An' I knowthat ev'ry bit av ut was my own foolishness. That night I tuk maybe thehalf av three pints--not enough to turn the hair of a man in his naturalsenses. But I was more than half drunk wid pure joy, an' that canteenbeer was so much whisky to me. I can't tell how it came about, butBEKAZE I had no thought for anywan except Dinah, BEKAZE I hadn't slippedher little white arms from my neck five minuts, BEKAZE the breath of herkiss was not gone from my mouth, I must go through the married lineson my way to quarters an' I must stay talkin' to a red-headed Mullingarheifer av a girl, Judy Sheehy, that was daughter to Mother Sheehy, thewife of Nick Sheehy, the canteen-sergint--the Black Curse av Shielygh beon the whole brood that are above groun' this day!
"'An' what are ye houldin' your head that high for, corp'ril?" sez Judy."Come in an' thry a cup av tay," she sez, standin' in the doorway. Bein'an ontrustable fool, an' thinkin' av anything but tay, I wint.
'"Mother's at canteen," sez Judy, smoothin' the hair av hers that waslike red snakes, an' lookin' at me cornerways out av her green cats'eyes. "Ye will not mind, corp'ril?"
'"I can endure," sez I; ould Mother Sheehy bein' no divarsion av mine,nor her daughter too. Judy fetched the tea things an' put thim on thetable, leanin' over me very close to get thim square. I dhrew back,thinkin' av Dinah.
'"Is ut afraid you are av a girl alone?" sez Judy.
'"No," sez I. "Why should I be?"
'"That rests wid the girl," sez Judy, dhrawin' her chair next to mine.
'"Thin there let ut rest," sez I; an' thinkin' I'd been a trifleonpolite, I sez, "The tay's not quite sweet enough for my taste. Putyour little finger in the cup, Judy. 'Twill make ut necthar."
'"What's necthar?" sez she.
"'Somethin' very sweet," sez I; an' for the sinful life av me I cud nothelp lookin' at her out av the corner av my eye, as I was used to lookat a woman.
'"Go on wid ye, corp'ril," sez she. "You're a flirrt."
'"On me sowl I'm not," sez I.
'"Then you're a cruel handsome man, an' that's worse," sez she, heavingbig sighs an' lookin' crossways.
'"You know your own mind," sez I.
'"'Twud be better for me if I did not," she sez.
'"There's a dale to be said on both sides av that," sez I, unthinkin'.
'"Say your own part av ut, then, Terence, darlin'," sez she; "for begadI'm thinkin' I've said too much or too little for an honest girl," an'wid that she put her arms round my neck an' kissed me.
'"There's no more to be said afther that," sez I, kissin' her backagain--Oh the mane scutt that I was, my head ringin' wid Dinah Shadd!How does ut come about, sorr, that when a man has put the comether onwan woman, he's sure bound to put it on another? 'Tis the same thing atmusketry. Wan day ivry shot goes wide or into the bank, an' the next,lay high lay low, sight or snap, ye can't get off the bull's-eye for tenshots runnin'.'
'That only happens to a man who has had a good deal of experience. Hedoes it without thinking,' I replied.
'Thankin' you for the complimint, sorr, ut may be so. But I'm doubtfulwhether you mint ut for a complimint. Hear now; I sat there wid Judyon my knee tellin' me all manner av nonsinse an' only sayin' "yes" an'"no," when I'd much better ha' kept tongue betune teeth. An' that wasnot an hour afther I had left Dinah! What I was thinkin' av Icannot say. Presintly, quiet as a cat, ould Mother Sheehy came invelvet-dhrunk. She had her daughter's red hair, but 'twas bald inpatches, an' I cud see in her wicked ould face, clear as lightnin', whatJudy wud be twenty years to come. I was for jumpin' up, but Judy nivermoved.
'"Terence has promust, mother," sez she, an' the could sweat bruk outall over me. Ould Mother Sheehy sat down of a heap an' began playin' widthe cups. "Thin you're a well-matched pair," she sez very thick. "Forhe's the biggest rogue that iver spoiled the queen's shoe-leather" an'--
'"I'm off, Judy," sez I. "Ye should not talk nonsinse to your mother.Get her to bed, girl."
'"Nonsinse!" sez the ould woman, prickin' up her ears like a cat an'grippin' the table-edge. "'Twill be the most nonsinsical nonsinse foryou, ye grinnin' badger, if nonsinse 'tis. Git clear, you. I'm goin' tobed."
'I ran out into the dhark, my head in a stew an' my heart sick, but Ihad sinse enough to see that I'd brought ut all on mysilf. "It's this topass the time av day to a panjandhrum av hell-cats," sez I. "What I'vesaid, an' what I've not said do not matther. Judy an' her dam will houldme for a promust man, an' Dinah will give me the go, an' I desarve ut. Iwill go an' get dhrunk," sez I, "an' forget about ut, for 'tis plain I'mnot a marrin' man."
'On my way to canteen I ran against Lascelles, colour-sergint that wasav E Comp'ny, a hard, hard man, wid a torment av a wife. "You've thehead av a drowned man on your shoulders," sez he; "an' you're goin'where you'll get a worse wan. Come back," sez he. "Let me go," sez I."I've thrown my luck over the wall wid my own hand!"--"Then that's notthe way to get ut back again," sez he. "Have out wid your throuble, yefool-bhoy." An' I tould him how the ma
tther was.
'He sucked in his lower lip. "You've been thrapped," sez he. "Ju Sheehywud be the betther for a man's name to hers as soon as can. An' wethought ye'd put the comether on her,--that's the natural vanity of thebaste, Terence, you're a big born fool, but you're not bad enoughto marry into that comp'ny. If you said anythin', an' for all yourprotestations I'm sure ye did--or did not, which is worse,--eat utall--lie like the father of all lies, but come out av ut free av Judy.Do I not know what ut is to marry a woman that was the very spitan' image av Judy whin she was young? I'm gettin' old an' I've larntpatience, but you, Terence, you'd raise hand on Judy an' kill her in ayear. Never mind if Dinah gives you the go, you've desarved ut; nevermind if the whole reg'mint laughs you all day. Get shut av Judy an' hermother. They can't dhrag you to church, but if they do, they'll dhragyou to hell. Go back to your quarters and lie down," sez he. Thin overhis shoulder, "You MUST ha' done with thim."
'Next day I wint to see Dinah, but there was no tucker in me as Iwalked. I knew the throuble wud come soon enough widout any handlin' avmine, an' I dreaded ut sore.
'I heard Judy callin' me, but I hild straight on to the Shadds'quarthers, an' Dinah wud ha' kissed me but I put her back.
'"Whin all's said, darlin'," sez I, "you can give ut me if ye will, tho'I misdoubt 'twill be so easy to come by then."
'I had scarce begun to put the explanation into shape before Judy an'her mother came to the door. I think there was a verandah, but I'mforgettin'.
'"Will ye not step in?" sez Dinah, pretty and polite, though the Shaddshad no dealin's with the Sheehys. Ould Mother Shadd looked up quick, an'she was the fust to see the throuble; for Dinah was her daughter.
'"I'm pressed for time to-day," sez Judy as bould as brass; "an' I'veonly come for Terence,--my promust man. 'Tis strange to find him herethe day afther the day."
'Dinah looked at me as though I had hit her, an' I answered straight.
'"There was some nonsinse last night at the Sheehys' quarthers, an'Judy's carryin' on the joke, darlin'," sez I.
'"At the Sheehys' quarthers?" sez Dinah very slow, an' Judy cut in wid:"He was there from nine till ten, Dinah Shadd, an' the betther half avthat time I was sittin' on his knee, Dinah Shadd. Ye may look and ye maylook an' ye may look me up an' down, but ye won't look away that Terenceis my promust man. Terence, darlin', 'tis time for us to be comin'home."
'Dinah Shadd niver said word to Judy. "Ye left me at half-pasteight," she sez to me, "an I niver thought that ye'd leave me forJudy,--promises or no promises. Go back wid her, you that have to befetched by a girl! I'm done with you," sez she, and she ran into her ownroom, her mother followin'. So I was alone wid those two women and atliberty to spake my sentiments.
'"Judy Sheehy," sez I, "if you made a fool av me betune the lights youshall not do ut in the day. I niver promised you words or lines."
'"You lie," sez ould Mother Sheehy, "an' may ut choke you where youstand!" She was far gone in dhrink.
'"An' tho' ut choked me where I stud I'd not change," sez I. "Go home,Judy. I take shame for a decent girl like you dhraggin' your mother outbare-headed on this errand. Hear now, and have ut for an answer. I gavemy word to Dinah Shadd yesterday, an', more blame to me, I was wid youlast night talkin' nonsinse but nothin' more. You've chosen to thry tohould me on ut. I will not be held thereby for anythin' in the world. Isthat enough?"
'Judy wint pink all over. "An' I wish you joy av the perjury," sez she,duckin' a curtsey. "You've lost a woman that would ha' wore her hand tothe bone for your pleasure; an' 'deed, Terence, ye were not thrapped..."Lascelles must ha' spoken plain to her. "I am such as Dinah is--'deedI am! Ye've lost a fool av a girl that'll niver look at you again, an'ye've lost what he niver had,--your common honesty. If you manage yourmen as you manage your love-makin', small wondher they call you theworst corp'ril in the comp'ny. Come away, mother," sez she.
'But divil a fut would the ould woman budge! "D'you hould by that?" sezshe, peerin' up under her thick gray eyebrows.
'"Ay, an' wud," sez I, "tho' Dinah give me the go twinty times. I'llhave no thruck with you or yours," sez I. "Take your child away, yeshameless woman."
"'An' am I shameless?" sez she, bringin' her hands up above her head."Thin what are you, ye lyin', schamin', weak-kneed, dhirty-souled sonav a sutler? Am _I_ shameless? Who put the open shame on me an' my childthat we shud go beggin' through the lines in the broad daylight forthe broken word of a man? Double portion of my shame be on you, TerenceMulvaney, that think yourself so strong! By Mary and the saints, byblood and water an' by ivry sorrow that came into the world since thebeginnin', the black blight fall on you and yours, so that you may niverbe free from pain for another when ut's not your own! May your heartbleed in your breast drop by drop wid all your friends laughin' at thebleedin'! Strong you think yourself? May your strength be a curse to youto dhrive you into the divil's hands against your own will! Clear-eyedyou are? May your eyes see clear ivry step av the dark path you taketill the hot cindhers av hell put thim out! May the ragin' dry thirstin my own ould bones go to you that you shall niver pass bottle fullnor glass empty. God preserve the light av your onderstandin' to you,my jewel av a bhoy, that ye may niver forget what you mint to be an' do,whin you're wallowin' in the muck! May ye see the betther and follow theworse as long as there's breath in your body; an' may ye die quick ina strange land, watchin' your death before ut takes you, an' enable tostir hand or foot!"
'I heard a scufflin' in the room behind, and thin Dinah Shadd's handdhropped into mine like a rose-leaf into a muddy road.
'"The half av that I'll take," sez she, "an' more too if I can. Go home,ye silly talkin' woman,--go home an' confess."
'"Come away! Come away!" sez Judy, pullin' her mother by the shawl."'Twas none av Terence's fault. For the love av Mary stop the talkin'!"
"'An' you!" said ould Mother Sheehy, spinnin' round forninst Dinah."Will ye take the half av that man's load? Stand off from him,Dinah Shadd, before he takes you down too--you that look to be aquarther-master-sergeant's wife in five years. You look too high, child.You shall WASH for the quarther-master-sergeant, whin he plases to giveyou the job out av charity; but a privit's wife you shall be to the end,an' ivry sorrow of a privit's wife you shall know and niver a joy butwan, that shall go from you like the running tide from a rock. The painav bearin' you shall know but niver the pleasure av giving the breast;an' you shall put away a man-child into the common ground wid niver apriest to say a prayer over him, an' on that man-child ye shall thinkivry day av your life. Think long, Dinah Shadd, for you'll niver haveanother tho' you pray till your knees are bleedin'. The mothers avchildher shall mock you behind your back when you're wringing over thewash-tub. You shall know what ut is to help a dhrunken husband home an'see him go to the gyard-room. Will that plase you, Dinah Shadd, thatwon't be seen talkin' to my daughter? You shall talk to worse thanJudy before all's over. The sergints' wives shall look down on youcontemptuous, daughter av a sergint, an' you shall cover ut all up wid asmiling face when your heart's burstin'. Stand off av him, Dinah Shadd,for I've put the Black Curse of Shielygh upon him an' his own mouthshall make ut good."
'She pitched forward on her head an' began foamin' at the mouth. DinahShadd ran out wid water, an' Judy dhragged the ould woman into theverandah till she sat up.
'"I'm old an' forlore," she sez, thremblin' an' cryin', "and 'tis like Isay a dale more than I mane."
'"When you're able to walk,--go," says ould Mother Shadd. "This househas no place for the likes av you that have cursed my daughter."
'"Eyah!" said the ould woman. "Hard words break no bones, an' DinahShadd'll kape the love av her husband till my bones are green corn. Judydarlin', I misremember what I came here for. Can you lend us the bottomav a taycup av tay, Mrs. Shadd?"
'But Judy dhragged her off cryin' as tho' her heart wud break. An' DinahShadd an' I, in ten minutes we had forgot ut all.'
'Then why do you remember it now?' said I.
'Is ut like I'd forget? Ivry word that wi
cked ould woman spoke fellthrue in my life aftherwards, an' I cud ha' stud ut all--stud utall--excipt when my little Shadd was born. That was on the line av marchthree months afther the regiment was taken with cholera. We were betuneUmballa an' Kalka thin, an' I was on picket. Whin I came off duty thewomen showed me the child, an' ut turned on uts side an' died as Ilooked. We buried him by the road, an' Father Victor was a day's marchbehind wid the heavy baggage, so the comp'ny captain read a prayer.An' since then I've been a childless man, an' all else that ould MotherSheehy put upon me an' Dinah Shadd. What do you think, sorr?'
I thought a good deal, but it seemed better then to reach out forMulvaney's hand. The demonstration nearly cost me the use of threefingers. Whatever he knows of his weaknesses, Mulvaney is entirelyignorant of his strength.
'But what do you think?' he repeated, as I was straightening out thecrushed fingers.
My reply was drowned in yells and outcries from the next fire, whereten men were shouting for 'Orth'ris,' 'Privit Orth'ris,' 'MistahOr--ther--ris!' 'Deah boy,' 'Cap'n Orth'ris,' 'Field-Marshal Orth'ris,''Stanley, you pen'north o' pop, come 'ere to your own comp'ny!' And thecockney, who had been delighting another audience with recondite andRabelaisian yarns, was shot down among his admirers by the major force.
'You've crumpled my dress-shirt 'orrid,' said he, 'an' I shan't sing nomore to this 'ere bloomin' drawin'-room.'
Learoyd, roused by the confusion, uncoiled himself, crept behindOrtheris, and slung him aloft on his shoulders.
'Sing, ye bloomin' hummin' bird!' said he, and Ortheris, beating timeon Learoyd's skull, delivered himself, in the raucous voice of theRatcliffe Highway, of this song:--
My girl she give me the go onst, When I was a London lad, An' I went on the drink for a fortnight, An' then I went to the bad. The Queen she give me a shillin' To fight for 'er over the seas; But Guv'ment built me a fever-trap, An' Injia give me disease.
Chorus.
Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says, An' don't you go for the beer; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An' that is why I'm 'ere.
I fired a shot at a Afghan, The beggar 'e fired again, An' I lay on my bed with a 'ole in my 'ed; An' missed the next campaign! I up with my gun at a Burman Who carried a bloomin' dah, But the cartridge stuck and the bay'nit bruk, An' all I got was the scar.
Chorus.
Ho! don't you aim at a Afghan When you stand on the sky-line clear; An' don't you go for a Burman If none o' your friends is near.
I served my time for a corp'ral, An' wetted my stripes with pop, For I went on the bend with a intimate friend, An' finished the night in the 'shop.' I served my time for a sergeant; The colonel 'e sez 'No! The most you'll see is a full C. B.'
[Footnote: Confined to barracks.] An'...very next night 'twas so.
Chorus.
Ho! don't you go for a corp'ral Unless your 'ed is clear; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An' that is why I'm 'ere.
I've tasted the luck o' the army In barrack an' camp an' clink, An' I lost my tip through the bloomin' trip Along o' the women an' drink. I'm down at the heel o' my service An' when I am laid on the shelf, My very wust friend from beginning to end By the blood of a mouse was myself!
Chorus.
Ho! don't you 'eed what a girl says, An' don't you go for the beer; But I was an ass when I was at grass, An' that is why I'm 'ere.
'Ay, listen to our little man now, singin' an' shoutin' as tho'trouble had niver touched him. D'you remember when he went mad with thehome-sickness?' said Mulvaney, recalling a never-to-be-forgotten seasonwhen Ortheris waded through the deep waters of affliction and behavedabominably. 'But he's talkin' bitter truth, though. Eyah!
'My very worst frind from beginnin' to ind By the blood av a mouse was mesilf!'
When I woke I saw Mulvaney, the night-dew gemming his moustache, leaningon his rifle at picket, lonely as Prometheus on his rock, with I knownot what vultures tearing his liver.