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"Kirby."
Five minutes later Kirby caught a general at breakfast, and was received with courtesy and feigned surprise.
"D'you happen to know anything about my risaldar-major, Ranjoor Singh?" asked Kirby, after a hasty apology for bursting in.
"Why?"
"He was under suspicion yesterday-I was told so. Next he disappeared. Then I received a message from him asking me to a.s.sign him to special duty; that was after I'd more than half believed him burned to death in a place called the 'House-of-the-Eight-Half- brothers.' He has sent some most extraordinary messages to his squadron by the hand of a mysterious babu, but not a word of explanation of any kind. Can you tell me anything about him, sir?"
"Wasn't a trooper of yours murdered yesterday?" the general asked.
"Yes," said Kirby.
"And another missing?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did Ranjoor Singh go off to search for the missing man?"
"I was told so."
"H-rrrr-ump! Well, I'm glad you came; you've saved me trouble! Did you put Ranjoor Singh in Orders as a.s.signed to special duty?"
"Yes."
"What is the missing trooper's name?"
"Jagut Singh."
"Well, please enter him in Orders, too."
"Special service?"
"Special service," said the general. "How about Ranjoor Singh's charger?"
"I understand that he's been kept well groomed by Ranjoor Singh's orders, and my adjutant tells me he has the horse in care in his own stable."
The general made a note.
"Whose stable?" lie asked.
"Warrington's."
"Warrington, of Outram's Own, eh? Captain Warrington?"
The general wrote that down, while Kirby watched him bewildered.
"Well now, Kirby, that'll be all right Have the horse left there, will you? I hope You've been able to dispose of your own horses to advantage. Two chargers don't seem a large allowance for a commanding officer of a cavalry regiment, but that's all you can take with you. You'll have to leave the rest behind."
"Haven't given it a thought, sir! Too busy thinking about Ranjoor Singh. Worried about him."
"Shouldn't worry!" said the general. "Ranjoor Singh's all right."
"That's the first a.s.surance I've had of it, except by way of a mysterious note," said Kirby.
"By all right, I mean that he isn't in disgrace. But now about your horses and private effects. You've done nothing about them?"
"I'll have time to attend to that this afternoon, sir."
"Oh, no, you won't. That's why I'm glad you came! These"-he gave him a sealed envelope-"are supplementary orders, to be opened when you get back to barracks. I want you out of the way by noon if possible. We'll send a man down this morning to take charge of whatever any of you want kept, and you'd better tell him to sell the rest and pay the money to your bankers; he'll be a responsible officer. That's all. Good-by, Kirby, and good luck!"
The general held out his hand.
"One more minute, sir," said Kirby. "About Ranjoor Singh!"
"What about him?"
"Well, sir-what about him?"
"What have you heard?"
"That-I've heard a sort of promise that he'll be with his squadron, to lead it, before the blood runs."
"Won't that be time enough?" asked the general, smiling. He was looking at Kirby very closely. "Not sick, are you?" he asked. "No? I thought your scalp looked rather redder than usual."
Kirby flushed to the top of his collar instantly, and the general pretended to arrange a sheaf of papers on the table.
"One reason why you're being sent first, my boy," said the general, holding out his hand again, "is that you and your regiment are fittest to be sent. But I've taken into consideration, too, that I don't want you or your adjutant killed by a cobra in any event. And- snf-snf-the salt sea air gets rid of the smell of musk quicker than anything. Good-by, Kirby, my boy, and G.o.d bless you!"
"Good-by, sir!"
Kirby stammered the words, and almost ran down the steps to his waiting dog-cart. As all good men do, when undeserved ridicule or blame falls to their lot, he wondered what in the world he could have done wrong.
He had no blame for anybody, only a fierce resentment of injustice- an almost savage sense of shame that any one should know about the adventure of the night before, and a rising sense of joy in his soldier's heart because he had orders in his pocket to be up and doing. So, and only so, could he forget it all.
He whipped up his horse and went down the general's drive at a pace that made the British sentry at the gate grin from ear to ear with whole-souled approval. He did not see a fat babu approach the general's bungalow from the direction of the bazaar. The babu salaamed profoundly, but Kirby's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, and his thoughts were already deep in the future. He saw nothing except the road, until he took the last corner into barracks on one wheel, and drew up a minute later in front of the bachelor quarters that had sheltered him for the past four years.
"Pack! Campaign kit! One trunk!" he ordered his servant. "Orderly!"
An orderly ran in from outside.
"Tell Major Brammle and Captain Warrington to come to me!"
It took ten minutes to find Warrington, since every job was his, and nearly every responsibility, until his colonel should take charge of a paraded, perfect regiment, and lead it away to its fate. He came at last, however, and on the run, and Brammle with him.
"Orders changed!" said Kirby. "March at noon! Man'll be here this morning to take charge of officers' effects. Better have things ready for him and full instructions. One trunk allowed each officer. Two chargers."