Midnight Webs Part 15

STORY ONE, CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

How well I remember coming to myself as I lay there on the gra.s.s, with our old surgeon, Mr Hughes, kneeling by my side; for it was our own men that formed the infantry of the column, with a troop of lancers, and one of horse-artillery. There was Colonel Maine kneeling by his wife, who, poor soul, was recovering fast, and him turning from her to the children, and back again; while it was hard work to keep our men from following up the pursuit, now kept up by the lancers and horse-artillery, so mad and excited were they to find only eight wounded men out of the company they had left.

But, one way and another, the mutineers paid dear for what suffering they caused us. I can undertake to say that, for every life they took, half-a-dozen of their own side fell--the explosion swept away, I suppose, quite fifty, just as they had attempted a surprise, and came over from the south side in a night-attack; while the way in which they were cut up in the engagement was something awful.

For, anxious beyond measure at not hearing news of the party left in Begumbagh, Colonel Maine had at length obtained permission to go round by that station, reinforce the troops, and then join the general by another route.

They were making forced marches, when they caught sight of the rebels yelling round the burning building, fully a couple of hundred being outside; when, not knowing of the sore strait of those within, they had charged down, driving the murderous black scoundrels before them like so much chaff.

But you, must not think that our pains were at an end. Is it not told in the pages of history how for long enough it was a hard fight for a standing in India, and how our troops were in many places sore put to it; while home after home was made desolate by the most cruel outrages?

It was many a long week before we could be said to be in safety; but I don't know that I suffered much beyond the pains of that arm, or rather that stump, for our surgeon, Mr Hughes, when I grumbled a little at his taking it off, told me I might be very thankful that I had escaped with life, for he had never known of such a case before. But it was rather hard lying alone there in the temporary hospital, missing the tender hands that one loved.

And yet I have no right to say quite alone, for poor old Measles was on one side, and Joe Bantem on the other, with Mrs Bantem doing all she could for us three, as well as five more of our poor fellows.

More than once I heard Mr Hughes talk about the men's wounds, and say it was wonderful how they could live through them; but to live they all seemed disposed, except poor Measles, who was terrible bad and delirious, till one day, when he could hardly speak above a whisper, he says to me--being quite in his right mind:

"I daresay some of you chaps think that I'm going to take my discharge; but all the same, you're wrong, for I mean to go in now for promotion!"

He said "now;" but what he did then was to go in for sleep--and sleep he did for a good four-and-twenty hours, when he woke up grumbling, and calling himself the most unlucky beggar that ever breathed.

Time went on; and one by one we poor fellows got out of hospital cured; but I was the last; and it was many months after, that, at his wish, I called upon Captain--then Major--Dyer, at his house in London. For, during those many months, the mutiny had been suppressed, and our regiment had been ordered home.

I was very weak and pale, and I hadn't got used to this empty sleeve, and things looked very gloomy ahead; but, somehow, that day when I called at Major Dyer's seemed the turning-point; for to a poor soldier there was something very soothing for your old officer to jump up, with both hands outstretched to catch yours, and to greet you as warmly as did his handsome, bonny wife.

They seemed as if they could hardly make enough of me; but the sight of their happiness made me feel low-spirited; and I felt no better when Mrs Dyer--G.o.d bless her!--took my hand in hers, and led me to the next room, where she said there was an old friend wanted to see me.

I felt that soft jewelled hand holding mine, and I heard the door close as Mrs Dyer went out again, and then I stood seeing nothing--hearing nothing--feeling nothing, but a pair of clinging arms round my neck, and a tear-wet face pressed to mine.

And did that make me feel happy?

No! I can say it with truth. For as the mist cleared away from my eyes, and I looked down on, to me, the brightest, truest face the sun ever shone on, there was a great sorrow in my heart, as I told myself that it was a sin and a wrong for me, a poor invalided soldier, to think of taking advantage of that fine handsome girl, and tying her down to one who was maimed for life.

And at last, with the weak tears running down my cheeks, I told her of how it could not be; that I should be wronging her, and that she must think no more of me, only as a dear friend; when there is that amount of folly in this world, that my heart swelled, and a great ball seemed rising in my throat, and I choked again and again, as those arms clung tighter and tighter round my neck, and Lizzy called me her hero, and her brave lad who had saved her life again and again; and asked me to take her to my heart, and keep her there, for her to try and be to me a worthy loving wife--one that would never say a bitter word to me as long as she lived.

I said that there was so much folly in this world, so how can you wonder at me catching it of her, when she was so close that I could feel her breath upon my cheeks, my hair, my eyes, as once more, forgetting all in her love, she kissed me again and again. How, then, could I help, but with that one hand press her to my heart, and go the way that weak heart of mine wished.

I know it was wrong; but how can one always fight against weakness?

And, to tell you the truth, I had fought long enough--so long that I wished for peace. And I must say this, too, you must not be hard on Lizzy, and think that it would have been better for her to have let me do a little more of the courting: there are exceptional cases, and this was one.

I had a true friend in Major Dyer, and to him I owe my present position--not a very grand one; but speaking honestly as a man, I don't believe, if I had been a general, some one at home could think more of me; while, as to this empty sleeve, she's proud of it, and says that all the country is the same.

Wandering about as a regiment is, one does not often have a chance to see one's old messmates; but Sergeant and Mrs Bantem and Sergeant Measles did have tea and supper with us one night here in London, Mrs Bantem saying that Measles was as proud of his promotion as a dog with two tails, though Measles did say he was an unlucky beggar, or he'd have been a captain. And, my! what a night we did have of that, without one drawback, only Measles would spit on my wife's Brussels carpet; and so we did have a night last year when the old regiment was stationed at Edinburgh, and the wife and me had a holiday, and went down and saw Colonel and Mrs Maine, and those children grown up a'most into a man and woman. But Colonel Dyer had exchanged into another regiment, and they say he is going to retire on half-pay, on account of his wound troubling him.

We fought our old battles over again on those nights; and we did not forget the past and gone; for Mrs Bantem stood up after supper, with her stiff gla.s.s of grog in her hand--a gla.s.s into which I saw a couple of tears fall, as she spoke of the dead--the brave men who fell in defence of the defenceless and innocent, hoping that the earth lay lightly on the grave of Lieutenant Leigh, while she proposed the memory of brave Harry Lant.

We drank that toast in silence; and more than one eye was wet as the old scenes came back--scenes such as I hope may never fall to the lot of men again to witness; for if there is ever a fervent prayer sent up to the Maker of All by me, an old soldier, who has much to answer for, it is contained in those words, so familiar to you all:

"Peace on Earth!" _Amen_.

STORY TWO: ABOARD THE SEA-MEW.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER ONE.

I s.h.i.+pped aboard the Sea-mew, full-rigged, trading from the port of London to New Zealand. Two more old s.h.i.+pmates of mine entered along with me; and we were just beginning to feel the breeze that would send us down Channel in less than no time. The skipper came aboard at Gravesend, and the rest of the pa.s.sengers, and among 'em we had one poor chap who had to be whipped up in a chair, looking the while like as if he'd come aboard to find a hammock and a sailor's funeral. There was some petticoats, too, about him, and they had to be whipped up too, but I didn't take much notice, being hurried about here and ordered there, and the pa.s.sengers all seeming to have an idea, that now they'd come aboard, all there was to do was to get in everybody's way, and stand wiping their eyes. They would get in your way and aggravate, and when they moved, go and stand somewhere wuss, till it was enough to make a saint swear; and I'm blest if I don't think that, being a man used to the sea, and a quick-tempered sort of a fellow, Peter hisself would have gone on 'most as bad as I did. What does a great fat fellow of two-and-forty want to go walloping down where the mate had told you to coil forty fathom o' rope, and then begin blubbering like a great gal?

And what do people as have done nothing but grumble and cuss at the old country, go waving their handkerchiefs at it for, and then fall into one another's arms a-kissing and a-hugging, and just, too, when the deck's in such a litter that the skipper and the mate are 'most raving mad?

It's a nice place, deck of a s.h.i.+p just before sailing, what with the lumber, and the crew being all raw, and half of 'em three parts, or quite drunk. We'd a nice lot, we had, aboard the Sea-mew; for it seemed to me, as soon as I saw them together, that the skipper had been having the pick of the docks, and choosing all them as n.o.body else wouldn't take aboard a s.h.i.+p. But it was in this way: there'd been a sort of an upset about pay, and half the merchant-sailors were on strike; and as the owners of the Sea-mew had advertised her to sail at a certain time, and it was ten days past that time, the skipper had been obliged to sign articles with any one he could get. They were all fresh ones to us; six-and-twenty of 'em, but mostly seemed to know one another, and how to handle a rope.

We'd a mixed freight--live-stock mostly, going out emigrating, and more live-stock to feed 'em with, and a young doctor to see as they was all well, and had their salts-and-senny reg'lar; and a great big chap as couldn't stand up down below, but was always chipping his head, and taking the shape out of his hat against what he called the ceiling.

They said he was a nat'ralist, though he was about the longest, okkardest, corner-shaped, unnat'ral fellow I ever did see; and he'd got more live-stock in no end of great cages--c.o.c.k-sparrows and tom-t.i.ts, and blackbirds and starnels, and all sorts o' little twittering things to introduce amongst the New Zealanders. Then there was Brummagem and Manchester and Sheffield goods, and plants and seeds in cases; and the deck that full, that, as I said before, it was enough to make any one swear, let alone a sailor.

'Tain't a nice time, the first week at sea; for, to begin with, it takes all that time to get the longsh.o.r.e goings-on shook out of the men, and them fit to work well together; then, if it happens to blow a bit, as it mostly does in the Channel, there's all the pa.s.sengers badly, cabin and steerage, and their heads chock-full of s.h.i.+pwrecks; and when they ain't frightened of going to the bottom, calling the doctor a brute for not attending to 'em. Sea-sickness is bad enough, while it lasts, but folks needn't be so disagreeable about it, and every one think his case ten hundred times worse than anybody else's; but they will do it; and as for the fat chap as cried so about going away, he quite upset the young doctor, as they called Mr Ward; and if I'd been him, and been bothered as he was, I'd have give Mr Fatsides such a dose o' Daffy as would have sent him to sleep for a week.

STORY TWO, CHAPTER TWO.

"You've put your foot in it, Sam Brown," I says to my old s.h.i.+pmet when things was about knocked together, and we were bowling along well out of sight of land. We'd been putting that and that together, and found out that for some months to come, let alone wind and weather, we'd got our work cut out, the skipper being one of your reg'lar slave-drivers, that nothing can't satisfy, and the mate a sneak, as would do anything to please the captain. So "You've put your foot in it, Sam Brown," I says; but he only grunted. Bill Spragg, though--my other mate--turns a bit rusty, and says it was me as got them to sign the articles, and it was all my fault; for he was a bit sore, owing to a row he'd been in that day.

But it was no use to growl, and say the s.h.i.+p was a bad one; we were in the s.h.i.+p, and bad captain, bad mate, bad crew, and bad victualling, there it all was, and there was no getting away from it.

"Never mind, lads; 'tain't bad pay," I says.

"Pay!" says Bill Spragg. "I'd forfeit to-morrow to be out of it, and-- Look ye there, Tom."

I turned to look; and it was the pa.s.senger I've spoken of before, him that was whipped up on deck, and now he was out for the first time for a walk, being a bright suns.h.i.+ny time; while the petticoat as came on board with him was leading him about the deck.

"Looks bad," I says.

"Yes," says Bill. "But I meant the la.s.s. Just look at her."

"What for?" I says.

"Fine lines," growls Sam Brown, squinting at her, for he was a chap that could squint awful, and when he looked partic'lar at anything his eyes used to get close together, and he had to turn his head first on one side and then on the other. He was such a quiet chap, and spoke so little, that I used to think his eyes tried to turn round and look inside his head, to see what he was thinking about. "Fine lines," he says, and then he shuts one eye up, and holds it close, while he has another look.

"Beautiful! ain't she?" says Bill.

"Gammon," I says. "Wax-doll. She'd better not get wet, or she'd melt.

I wish they wouldn't have no women aboard."

"Why?" says some one close behind me. And looking round, there was the young doctor and Tomt.i.t, as we called him--the long chap as had all the birds.

"Why?" I says gruffly; "because they're in the way, and ain't no good, and consooms the s.h.i.+p's stores. Would my deck be littered here with hens and c.o.c.ks singing out eight bells when 'tain't nothing of the kind; and a couple of cows as is always lowing to be milked, and then giving some thin stuff like scupper-was.h.i.+ngs; and a goat and sheep till the place only wants an old turkey-c.o.c.k and jacka.s.s or two to be a reg'lar farmyard, 'stead o' a s.h.i.+p's deck--would there be all these things there if it warn't for the women? Bother the women! I wish there wasn't a woman on the face of the earth."