  The course of events proved Charteris to be a good prophet. Condemnation of the method adopted by Gerrard in attempting the arrest of Sher Singh was universal. It was not the Brigadier alone who pointed out, with much wealth of language, that the proper course would have been to report his suspicions as to the Rajah's hiding-place, and leave it to his superiors to detail a sufficient force—of which he himself might or might not have formed a part—to effect the capture, for the whole army were on the same side. The charitable said that Gerrard was vilely selfish in trying to secure all the honour and glory for himself alone, the malicious that even if there was no question of loot—which was hardly to be imagined—it was pretty clear that he had been on the look-out to avenge the slights put upon him by Sher Singh when he was acting-Resident at Agpur, and that he had achieved his object by murdering the unfortunate Rajah in a hole. It was in vain that Charteris pointed out to every one he could induce to listen to him that the idea of surprising the Rajah in his concealment had been his originally, and that he had taken a prominent part in the affair; the comment, as soon as his back was turned, was that the two natives concerned in it both belonged to Gerrard's force, which looked bad, and that the friendship which linked Charteris himself with Gerrard was of a character to rise superior to mere accuracy. This uncharitable view of the exploit penetrated to Ranjitgarh, and drew from Sir Edmund Antony a grieved and reproachful letter such as even Gerrard's veneration for his chief could not brook with meekness. He replied with so warm a remonstrance as made Charteris shrug his shoulders in despair, though he acknowledged, on the receipt of a hearty and ample apology, that his friend knew Sir Edmund better than he did. Since Sher Singh was dead, and not to be restored to life, the Government was in reality freed from a very serious embarrassment. One of his numerous youthful sons was chosen as the representative of the family, but not seated on the gaddi, since all Granthi institutions were in a state of flux for the present, and it was highly probable that the titular Rajah of Agpur would in future lead a secluded and uneventful existence as a pensioner on the Company's bounty. The new bearer of the title, with Sher Singh's wives and remaining children, was removed a safe distance into British territory, and the work of pacifying the state, by hunting down the remains of the insurgent army and of the revolted Granthi regiments, proceeded apace. In fact, it was so quickly done that new force was given to a body of opinion that was gradually gathering strength. Now that the Agpur campaign could be viewed as a successful whole, men began to contrast it with that other warfare which was engaging the energies of the Commander-in-Chief and the entire Bengal Army. Sher Singh's revolt had really been nipped in the bud, since he and his army had been strictly confined within the limits, first of his state and then of his capital, from the moment of the outbreak. Had he been allowed to sweep unchecked across his borders, and uniting with Abd-ur-Rashid Khan of Ethiopia, stir up the western half of Granthistan against the Durbar and the British, as the discontented Granthi Sirdars and soldiers of fortune had raised the eastern portion, how would it have been possible to cope with the situation? That it had not arisen was due to the insight and initiative of one man, Lieutenant Robert Charteris of the Bengal Fusiliers, who had had the skill to plan, and the courage to execute, the necessary measures, in independence, even in disregard, of the orders sent him. Lieutenant Robert Charteris became a hero, for public opinion, once reversed in his favour, was not minded to do things by halves. Moreover, the growing tide was swollen by the arrival of advices from England, showing that the lords of the East at the India House, and military circles generally, had conceived, on the strength of the reports of Charteris's doings up to the time he was superseded by Brigadier Speathley, the view of his exploits to which India itself was just coming round. The home authorities backed their opinion by tangible marks of favour. The greatest living soldier, mention from whose lips was in itself an honour, recommended Lieutenant Charteris to her Majesty for promotion, and her Majesty was pleased also to confer upon him a Commandership of the Bath, while the India Board decided to present him with a gold medal suitably inscribed. These distinctions were enumerated with due solemnity in a General Order of the Government of India, which contained also a passing reference to "the praiseworthy co-operation afforded by the troops of H.H. the Nuwaub of Hubsheeabad, accompanied by Lieutenant Henry Gerrard, Engineers." That was all. The General Order and the news it enshrined were received with much more equanimity by Gerrard than by his fortunate friend. Charteris could not contain himself, and Gerrard's calmness only increased his indignation. "It's a sell, it's a do, it's an unmitigated chouse!" he proclaimed. "And why don't you put it down to me, Hal? Any other fellow would have done that long ago." "Because I saw your reports, old boy, and I know that ain't the reason. "But the disgusting unfairness of it—in our circumstances especially!" lamented Charteris. "I can't get over that." "My dear fellow, you know that the person of whom we are both thinking would no more be influenced by a gold medal or a C.B. than by a diamond necklace. No, hang it! the plan was yours, and the execution was yours. I backed you up, you say? Well, then, put on my tombstone, 'He was a good second,' and I ask no more." But Charteris could not bring himself to take this philosophic view of the case, and went about abusing the authorities and cursing the injustice of fate, until he drew down upon himself a rebuke from James Antony. "Since you can neither refuse your honours nor share them, my good fellow, you may as well wear them gracefully," he said. "As it is, you are doing Gerrard no good. He was unlucky in his first post, which has told against him, but he is a capable man, and bound to come to the front eventually, provided his friends don't spoil his chances." The shrewd common-sense of the advice silenced Charteris's murmurs, and he faced with less outward rebelliousness the prospect of a week or two at Ranjitgarh. This was a mere interlude before plunging again into the main current of battle. The Governor-General was coming to the Granthi capital to take counsel with the Commander-in-Chief as to the further course of the war, which had not hitherto been conducted with conspicuous success, and the honours for the Agpur campaign were to be conferred. The cantonments and the Residency were full, and Brevet-Major Charteris, C.B., was glad to share his former restricted quarters with Gerrard. The Edmund Antonys were in occupation of the house again, James Antony and his wife retiring into two rooms of the main block, while Lady Cinnamond was once more at Government House. With her had come down from the hills Marian Cowper, a sorrowful figure in the heavy weeds then worn by even the youngest widows, but taking up the burden of life again bravely. If she still shrank from Honour, it was only they and their mother who could perceive it. Sir Arthur Cinnamond arrived from the front with the Commander-in-Chief for a week about Christmas time, and it so happened that Gerrard came suddenly upon Honour riding with her father the day after his arrival. She wore a habit made like the uniform of Sir Arthur's famous Peninsular regiment—a fashion which probably owed its vogue to the semi-military costume adopted by the young Queen Victoria for reviews. Civilian ladies—whose husbands had no uniform to be copied—called it fast, or at least 'spirited,' (Gerrard had heard Mrs James Antony animadverting upon it only that morning,) but the severe lines of the coat suited Honour well in combination with the long trailing skirt and the broad hat with its drooping feather. As he rode up to the pair, and noted the serious face and the firm lines of the mouth, it struck Gerrard as curiously ironical that to a girl of this type should have fallen such a prolonged period of indecision as Honour had undergone between the claims of Charteris and himself. The thought was still in his mind when she glanced round and saw him, and the change in her face was like the waking into life of a statue. The lines softened, the eyes dropped, and a wave of crimson flooded forehead and cheeks. Sir Arthur shouted a hearty welcome to Gerrard, commanded him to dinner that evening, to meet his eldest son, who was on the Headquarters Staff, and turned judiciously to speak to some one else. Honour's eyes were on her horse's mane, Gerrard's were devouring her face, but for the moment both of them were tongue-tied. Honour recovered herself first, and spoke with a desperate effort. "And—and how is Major Charteris?" she asked, and Gerrard's revived hope died on the spot. He could not understand afterwards why he did not fall from his horse. What he answered he never knew, but it seemed that he had laughed aloud, for Sir Arthur turned quickly and looked at him. A certain severity, disappointment, puzzled inquiry, were in the glance, but Gerrard had wrenched his horse round and was riding away, leaving the General still looking after him. He rode headlong back to the Residency, and with the impulse of a wounded creature seeking concealment, made straight for his own quarters in the inner courtyard. On the verandah he paused abruptly, for Charteris was sitting there reading a tattered number of Bell's Life. He tried to speak, but no words would come, and Charteris looked up and saw him. "Why, Hal!" he cried. Gerrard brushed past him hastily. "I've seen her. It's you, Bob," he jerked out, and threw himself on his cot. Charteris had sprung from his chair, but turned back on the verandah step. "Hal, old boy, I'm uncommon sorry. You do believe it, don't you?" "I do. And you know you are the only man——" Charteris's hand was on his shoulder a moment as the words failed him, and then his ringing footsteps went down into the courtyard, and Gerrard heard him shouting for his horse. The man who had all went out into the sunshine, the man who had nothing was left. To keep himself from tracing the sound of the horse's feet growing faint in the distance as the happy lover rode away, Gerrard forced himself to plan for the future. He must leave Ranjitgarh, and at once; he could not stay and watch the happiness of the pair, lest he should grow to hate them both. Bob would understand, Bob would not expect it. Some day he might be able to stand it, but now—— He had not realised how firmly he was building on Honour's parting words; he had not doubted that the blush just now was for him. But it was for Bob, and Bob was worthy of any woman's love, even of that of the woman of women. "Heaven bless them both!" groaned Gerrard, and rolled over with his face to the wall to make his plans. He must wait to wring Bob's hand when he returned triumphant, but after that he would go. Bob would take his place at the Cinnamonds' dinner-table, would sit next to Honour, would—— No, it did not bear thinking of; that way madness lay. To his own plans! He would go back to his Habshiabadis, and move heaven and earth to get the help of the contingent accepted by the Commander-in-Chief. If not, and when the war was over—no, he could not face the solitude of his position at Habshiabad again. Had he not General Desdichado as a warning of the depths to which an isolated European, without hope and without ambition, could sink? There was a place for him elsewhere. Coming events were casting their shadows before them, and there could be little doubt that the close of the war would see the annexation of Granthistan. Sir Edmund Antony, who had striven so zealously and with such a single eye against annexation, would not stay to see it; his brother James would be the man of the hour when the step was taken. The Governor-General would be just, even delicate, in his treatment of the vanquished; Sir Edmund would not be shelved, but transferred to some other post where his tenderness for native susceptibilities would be an advantage instead of a drawback. Thither Gerrard would accompany him. Had not Sir Edmund said to him that morning, almost wistfully, "I should like to have you with me, Gerrard, when I am kicked out of Granthistan"? and he had answered eagerly that he could desire nothing better—then paused suddenly, remembering that there might be some one else to consult as to the ordering of his life. There were steps in the courtyard, a foot on the verandah. Gerrard lay still and pretended to be asleep. He could not face Bob at this moment, when the realisation of all he had lost had returned upon him with such overwhelming force. But Charteris strode across to him and shook him savagely. "You everlasting fool, it's you!" He pulled him off the cot, and Gerrard sat on the edge and stared at him stupidly. Charteris was standing with his back to him, very busy about a buckle. "Well?" he barked out. "You ain't going to do anything—eh? Think it was a pleasant thing for a girl to have to tell the wrong man? Going to leave her to think about it?" "Of course not. I am going to her," said Gerrard wonderingly. Something astonishing had happened, but he could not for the moment realise what it was. He had got as far as the verandah step when he felt Charteris's hands on his shoulders, and was forcibly dragged back. "Of all the fools!" said an exasperated voice. "Off you go, with no cap, and a head like a haystack. Do you remember that they have a burra khana[1] on? Do you want to be turned back for a lunatic? Dress first and get there early, and then speak to her. Call your boy, can't you? Why I should have to dry-nurse you——!" Gerrard obeyed meekly, grateful to Charteris for giving the bearer his orders and presiding over his execution of them. The bearer, on the contrary, was much insulted. His master was like a lay-figure in his hands, but Chatar Sahib must needs take it upon himself to direct and correct operations in an unpleasant parade voice, causing many unnecessary starts and much perturbation of mind to a highly efficient servant who had most definite ideas on the subject of what his Sahib should wear to a burra khana. Gerrard's horse and groom came round, and Charteris's self-imposed task was not over until he had seen him safely mounted. Before starting, Gerrard turned and held out his hand. "Bob, old boy?" "Hang it, Hal! go in and win." Some sense of reality began to return to Gerrard's mind as he rode forth under the archway, but it made little impression upon his brain when Mrs James Antony ran out upon the verandah he was passing. "James, how late you are, love! Oh, Mr Gerrard, if you meet my husband, pray beg him to make haste. We are dining at the General's, and he has not returned from his ride." Gerrard promised mechanically, and forgot all about the promise as soon as it was uttered. He arrived at Government House somehow, and immediately became the cause of much disturbance of mind to the servants, who were scandalized at his early arrival, and still more so at his demand to see the Miss Sahib. Honour's own ayah was fetched to assure him that "Missy Sahib done dress," which meant exactly the opposite of what it sounded like, and the highly responsible head-bearer ventured to advise the Sahib to take a little ride, and return in half an hour or so. But Gerrard was not to be so easily dismissed. "Tell the Miss Sahib that I will wait as long as she chooses, but that "Shabash,[2] Gerrard! Nothing like putting your foot down in good time," cried James Antony, charging out of the house and mounting his waiting pony. "If only the General and I had done it, we should not both be in fear of our lives at this moment. You owe me a good turn for making him late." If Sir Arthur was late in dressing, his daughter must have been very early, for Gerrard had not been sitting long in the smaller drawing-room, sadly incommoding the servants who were lighting the candles in their glass shades, when Honour came into the room, fastening her short gloves, with a defiant swish of white silk flounces. "You sent me a very peremptory message just now, Mr Gerrard." Any one less preoccupied than Gerrard would have detected a suspicion of trembling in the clear tones, but he was too much taken aback by the accusation hurled at him. "I am very sorry. Nothing could have been further——" "So I just came to tell you that I am not accustomed to messages of that kind, and to beg you not to do it again." Holding her head very high, she turned to sweep out of the room, but Gerrard was at the door before her. "No, not without letting me speak!" he entreated incoherently. "If you knew what it means to me, how long I have looked forward——! That noble fellow Charteris gave me your message——" "I think you must be dreaming, Mr Gerrard!" The chilly indignation of her tone brought him to himself. "I send you a message by Major Charteris? Never!" "Forgive me; I hardly know what I am saying. He told me you had refused him, and I thought that it might be because—that there might be some one else." "But even then?" She still faced him bravely, though the affectation of polite interest in her tones was very difficult to keep up. "You can't pretend not to understand—after everything——" "But it might not be——" "Oh no, no!" the pain in his voice brought the tears to her eyes. "Don't say it's some one else! I could have given you up to him, but not—— You know something of what he is; there is no braver or better fellow in India, and now that his name is known, there's no saying how far he will go. You could not have refused him—unless——" Honour was opening and closing recklessly the cameo clasp that fastened her black velvet bracelet. "Did you come here to plead Major Charteris's cause?" she asked in a very small voice. "What if I—if I told you your—your pleading had convinced me?" "I should say you had chosen the better man," said Gerrard steadily. A hand touched his for a moment, and was snatched away immediately. "I have chosen the better man," murmured Honour. "But it is not Major Charteris," and the hand allowed itself to be captured. "I was certain of it!" cried Gerrard triumphantly. Honour withdrew her hand hastily. "Certain? certain of what?" she demanded. Gerrard was horrified. "Miss Cinnamond—Honour—my dearest one—what have I done? I am an unlucky fellow! Have I offended you?" "You said you were certain," explained Honour, with impatient deliberateness. "What were you certain of?" |
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