 CHAPTER XI of THE CHUNKLE GIRL by Gordon Casserly. TRAGEDY The annual derber for the reception of the Bhutan envoy and the payment of the subsidy had come and gone again. The Deb Zimpang, who had not been accompanied by the Chinese Amban on this occasion, had departed, and of the few European visitors only Meryl Benson remained. Colonel Dermott had been called away to Simba to confer with officials of the Foreign Department. On matters of frontier policy, Major Hunt was ill with fever, leaving war grave, who was still nominally attached to the military police in command of the detachment. It was thelicious torture to Frank to be in the same place again with Meryl, to see her from the parade ground or the mess, Ferenda, playing in the garden with the children, to meet her every day and talk to her, and yet be obliged to school his lips and keep them from uttering the words that trembled on them. A few nights after the derber he dined with Mrs. Dermott and Meryl, and was sitting on the veranda of the political officer's house with them after dinner. He was wearing white mess uniform. The evening was warm and very still. And whenever the conversation died away, no sound saved the monotonous note of the night jars or the sudden cry of a barking deer broke the silence since the echoes of the lights out bugle call had died away among the hills. Wargrave looked at his watch. Its past eleven o'clock he said, I had no idea it was so late. I ought to get up and say good night, but I'm so comfortable here, Mrs. Dermott. His hostess smiled lazily at him, but made no reply. Again a peaceful hush fell on them. With startling suddenness it was broken. From the four to four hundred yards away a rifle shot rang out, rending the silence of the night and reverberating among the hills around. Wargrave sprang to his feet as shells followed and a bugle shrilled out. The sound gripping alarm, the call that sends a thrill through every soldier's frame, for always it tells of disaster. Heard thus at night in barracks swift falling on a shot, it spoke of crime, of murder, the black murder of a comrade. The two women had risen anxiously. What is it? Oh, what is it, they asked. The subaltern spoke lightly to reassure them. Very much, I expect, some man on guard fooling with his rifle let it off by accident. He said quietly, excuse me, I'd better stroll across to the fort and see. But Mrs. Dermott stopped him. Wait a moment, please, Mr. Wargrave, she said, running into the house. She returned immediately with her husband's big automatic pistol and handed it to him. In her left hand she held a smaller one. Take this with you, it's loaded, she said. Frank thanked her, said good night to both calmly and walked down the garden path, but the anxious women heard him running swiftly across the parade ground. What is it, Noreen? What does it mean, asked the girl nervously? A set-boy running amok, I'm afraid, replied her friend. He shot someone. She swung round, pistol raised. Cohen high? Who's that, she called out. A man had come noiselessly on to the shadowed end of the veranda. It is I, ma'am Sahib, answered Sher Afzul, her Punjabi Mohammedan Butler. He had been in her service for five years, and was devoted to her and hers. He was carrying a rifle, for his master at his request had long ago given him arms to protect his ma'am Sahib. Before her marriage he had once fought almost to the death, to defend her when her brother's bungalow had been attacked by rebels during a rising. It would be well to go into the house and put out the lights, ma'am Sahib. He said quietly in Hindustani, there is danger to night. Once he spoke he extinguished the lamp on the veranda, and closed the doors of the house. A second armed servant came quietly on to the veranda, and the butler melted into the darkness of the garden, but they heard him go to the gate as if to guard it. You had better go inside, Miryul, said Mrs. Dermott, but made no move to do it herself. The girl did not appear to hear her. She was listening intently for any sound from the fort, but silence had fallen on it. Miryul, won't you go into the house, repeated her hostess? Eh? What? No, I couldn't. I must stay here, replied Miss Benson impatiently. In the black darkness the other woman could not see her, but she felt the girl's every sense was alert and strained to the utmost. She moved to her and put her arm about her. Against it she could feel Miryul's heart beating violently. Suddenly from the fort came the noise of heavy blows and a crash, instantly followed by a shot, and then fierce cries. Oh my God, what is happening, murmured the girl, her hand on her heart. Presently there came the sound of running feet, and heavy boots clattered up the rocky road towards the mess past the gate. Then the butler's voice rang out in challenge. Kong jatha? Who goes there? A panting voice answered, Wargrave Sahib Murgha, Dr. Sahib Ko Blana Ko Jakha. Wargrave Sahib is killed, I go to call the Dr. Sahib, and the sepoy ran on in the darkness. Oh God, oh God, cried the girl, and tried to break from her friend's clasp. Let me go, let me go. Where to? asked Narine, holding the frenzied girl with all her strength. To him he's dead, didn't you hear? He's dead, I must go to him. She struggled madly and beat fiercely at the hands that held her. Let me go, let me go. Oh, he's dead, she wailed. Dead, and I loved him so. Oh, be merciful, let me go to him. And suddenly her strength gave way, and she clasped into Narine's arms, weeping bitterly. They heard the clattering steps meet others coming down the hill, and a hurried conversation ensued. Narine recognized one of the voices, then both men came running down. It's the doctor, said Mrs. Dermott, come to the gate and we'll ask him what has happened. Mr. McDonald, Mr. McDonald, she cried as the hurrying footsteps grew near. Who's that, Mrs. Dermott? For God's sake, get into the house. There's a man running a muck, war greys killed. I'm wanted, and the doctor, taking no thought of danger to himself, when there was need of his skill, went on into the darkness. I must, I will go, cried Muriel. Very well, perhaps it's not true, we must know. We may be able to help, replied your friend, and with a word to share a soul to guard her babies from danger, she seized Muriel's hand and the two girls ran towards the fort in the track that Wargrave had followed to his death, it seemed. Pistol in hand Wargrave had raced across the parade ground. At the gate of the fort he was challenged, and when he answered an Indian officer came out of the darkness to him, Saheb, he said hurriedly, Havadar Mohammed Ashraf Khan has been shot in his bed in barracks, the sentry over the magazine is missing with his rifle. Wargrave entered the fort, opposite the guard room the detachment was falling in rapidly, the men carrying their rifles and running up from their barrack rooms in various stages of undress. By the flickering light of a lantern held up for him, a non-commissioned officer was calling the roll, and his voice rumbled along in monotonous tones. The guard was standing under arms, put out that lamp cried the sabaltern sharply, it would only serve to light up other marks for the invisible assassin if, like most men who run amok, he meant to keep on killing until slain himself, no take it into the guard room and shut the door. In the darkness the silence was intense, broken only by the heavy breathing of the unseen men and the quattering of the feet of some laycomber, suddenly there rang out through the night the most appalling sound that had ever assailed Wargrave's ears. It was as the cry of a lost soul, in all the agony of the damned, an eerie, unearthly wail that froze the blood in the listener's veins. In the invisible ranks men shuddered and clutched at their neighbors. Tudakinamnen, hiya hey, in the name of God, what is that, gasped the sabaltern. The Indian officer at his side answered in a low voice, it is Ashraf Khan crying out in pain, Sahib, he is not yet dead, subheader Sahib, come with me, said Wargrave, let your jemdar, lieutenant, take the men one by one into the guard room and examine the rifles to see if any have been fired, we don't know yet if the missing sentry did the deed. The subheader, company commander, gave the order to his subordinate and followed Wargrave to the barrack room in which the crime had been committed. The sight that met the sabaltern's eyes was one that he was not easily to forget. The high roof chamber was in darkness, save at one end where a small lamp cast weird shadows on the walls and vaulted ceiling. At this end, under the flickering light, a group of figures stood grand a bed on which a man was writhing in agony. He was struggling in delirious frenzy to hurl himself to the stone floor and was only held down by the united efforts of three men. From a bullet wound in his bare chest, the lifeblood welled with every movement of his tortured body. He had been shot in the back as he lay asleep. The lips covered with a bloody froth were drawn back tightly over the white teeth clenched in agony and red foam lay on the black beard. Out of the sweat-bathed, ghastly face, the eyes glared in frenzy. The features were contorted with pain. Then and again the wild shrieks like the howl of a mad thing rang through the long room and out into the night. With tear-filled eyes and heart-torn with pity, Wargrave looked down at him in silence. Ashraf Khan was one of his best men. But where is the doctor, Sahib? He asked the native officers suddenly. The sub-header stared and shook his head. In the excitement no one had thought of sending for the medical officer. Wargrave turned to one of the men around the bed. Mahab Khan! Run hard to the mess and call the doctor Sahib. Here, stop! He remembered that McDonald did not possess a revolver. For all one knew he might encounter the murderer on his way. Wargrave thrust Mrs. Dermott's pistol into the sepoy's hand, saying, Give the Sahib that! The man, who was barefoot, ran out of the chamber and went to his own barric room for his shoes, for the road was rocky and covered with sharp stones. The subaltern turned away with a sigh from the bedside of his poor comrade. He could do nothing now but avenge him. As he walked away from the group he trod on an empty cartridge case and picked it up. It had recently been fired. It twalled its tail, for it showed that the assassin had reloaded over his victim and intended that the killing should not end there. If he were the missing sentry then he had nine more cartridges left, nine human lines in the blood-stained hand, and as the subaltern crossed the veranda outside the barric room the jambander met him and reported that all the rifles of the detachment had been examined and found clean except the missing weapon of the sentry, a young pathan sepoy called Gil Muhammad. It was remembered that the dying Havadar, surgeon, had reprimanded him hotly on the previous day for appearing on parade with accoutrements dirty so little a cause was needed to send a man to his death. The first thing to be done now was to hunt for the murderer. While he went free no one's life was safe. Wargrave shuddered at the thought of danger coming to Muriel or her friend and he hoped that they were safely shot in their house. It was a difficult problem to know where to begin the search. The fork was full of hiding places, especially at night, and already the assassin might have escaped over the low walls surrounding it. As Wargrave stood perplexed another Indian officer ran up, accompanied by two men with rifles, Sahib Sahib, he whispered excitedly. The murderer is in my room, the one next that in which Ashraf Khan was shot. I left the door wide open when I ran out. It is now shut and bolted from the inside and someone is moving about in it. The subaltern went along the veranda to the door and tried it. It was firmly fastened. Here Sahib cried a sepoy who ran up with a comrade carrying a heavy log. Shabash, well done, break in the door, said Wargrave. Other men who had come up seized the long log and dashed it violently against the door. The bolt held, but the frail hinges gave way and the door fell in. Stand back, cried Wargrave. It seemed certain death to enter the room in which a murderer lurked in darkness, armed with a rifle and fixed bayonet and resolved to sell his life dearly. But the subaltern did not hesitate. He was the only Sahib there and of course it was his duty to go in. He could not ask his men to risk a danger that he shirked himself. That is not the officer's way, whose model must ever be follow where I lead. Wargrave sprang into the room unarmed. He was outlined against the faint light outside. A spurt of flame lit the darkness and the subaltern as he tripped over the raised threshold felt that he was shot. He staggered on, a rifle lunged forward and the bayonet stabbed him in the side. But with a desperate effort he closed with his unseen assailant and grappled fiercely with him. Struggling to overpower the assassin before his ebbing strength left him, he fought madly. The Indian officers and sepoys blocking up the doorway could see nothing. But they could hear the choking gas, the panting breaths, the muttered curses and the stamping feet of the combatants locked in the death grapple. They could not interfere. They dared not fire. In impotent fury they shouted, Bring lamps, bring lamps. Then groaning in their powerlessness to aid their beloved officer, they listened. As a light danced over the stones from a lantern in the hand of a running sepoy. The moment it came and lit up the scene, they rushed on, the murderer wrestling fiercely with cord grave, and dragged him off as the subaltern collapsed and fell to the ground. The glare of the lantern shone on his white face. The sahabib is dead, cried a sepoy, and sprang at the murderer who was struggling in the grip of the two powerfully built Indian officers. Others followed him and his captors had to fight hard and use all their authority to keep the prisoner from being killed by their bare hands of his maddened comrades. Only the arrival of the armed men of the guard saved him. Frenzied with grief, the sepoys bent over their officer lying motionless and apparently dead on the stone floor. They loved him. Many of them wept openly and unashamed. The subheader knelt beside him and opened his shirt. The blood had soaked through the white-nest jacket that wore grave war. The native officer looked up into the ring of brown faces bent over him. Suddenly he cried angrily, Ma'abab, can, why hast thou not gone for the doctor sahib, as though we're told, O son of an owl? The face staring in horror between the heads of the sepoys was hurriedly withdrawn and Ma'abab, can, who had lingered to see the end of the tragedy, turned and pushed his way out of the crowd. McDonald found the subaltern lying to all appearances dead on the broken door out in the open, where they had gently carried him. Hold a light here, he cried, as he knelt down beside the body. By now a dozen lanterns or more lit up the scene. The doctor laid his ear against Wargrave's chest and held a polished cigarette case to his lips. Then he pulled back the shirt to examine his injuries. O, is he dead? Is he dead? cried a trembling voice. The doctor, looking up angrily, found Miss Benson and Mrs. Dermott standing over him. The sepoys had silently made way for them. You shouldn't be here, ladies, he said, with justifiable annoyance. This is no place for you. No, he's not dead, and I hope and think that he won't die. Oh, thank God, cried the two women. The sepoys crowding round and hanging on the doctor's verdict could not understand the words but saw the look of joyous relief on their faces and guessed the truth. A wild confused cheer went up to the stars. Mr. McDonald, said Mrs. Dermott, bending over him again. Will you bring him to my house? There is no accommodation for him in your little hospital. You know, and he'd have no one to look after him in the mess. I can nurse him. The doctor straightened himself on his knee and looked down at the unconscious man. Yes, Mrs. Dermott, it is a good idea, he replied. There is nowhere else where he'd get any tension. My hands are full with major hunt. He's taken a turn for the worse. His temperature went up dangerously high tonight, and he was almost hilarious. He stood up. I can't examine Wargrave properly here. He seems to be wounded in two places. But I hope it's not. I mean, I think he'll pull through. His pulse is getting stronger. I put a first dressing on. And I think we can move him. Hi, stretcher eat her low. Bring the stretcher here. Suddenly Wargrave opened his eyes and looked up in the doctor's face. Is that you, MacDonald? He asked dreamily. Never mind me. I'm all right. Go to poor Ashbrough Ken. If he must die, at least give him something to put out of his misery. I can wait. His voice trilled off, and he relapsed into unconsciousness, ordering him to be carried away. The doctor, after a word with the Indian officers, entered the barrack room. It was useless. Ashbrough Ken had just died. The crowd fell back in a wide circle to let the two hospital orderlies bring up the stretcher for Wargrave. And, as they did, left a group of men standing isolated in the center. All of these were armed, except one whose hands were pinioned behind his back. His head was bare, his face bruised and bleeding, and his uniform nearly torn off his body. It needed no telling that he was the murderer. Miss Benson walked up to him with fierce eyes. You dog, she cried bitterly in your dew. The man who had smiled defiantly when the hands of his raging comrades were seeking to tear the life out of his body, and had shouted out his crime in their faces, cowered before the anger in the flaming eyes of this frail girl. He shrank back between his guards. The sepoys looking on howled like hungry wolves, and, as Mrs. Dermott drew the girl back, made a rush for the murderer. The men of the guard faced them with level bayonets and rang their prisoner round, and the sepoys fell back sullenly. Suddenly a shrill voice cried in hindu standee. Make way, make way there. What has happened? The circle of men gapped, and through the opening came major hunt. White faced, wasted, shaking with fever, and clad only in pajamas and a great coat, and with bare feet thrust into unlaced shoes, he staggered feebly in among them revolver in hand. Heaven and earth is war grave dead. He cried and tottered towards the structure. Suddenly the pistol dropped from his shaking, hand, and he fell forward on the stones before McDonald to catch him. This is madness, muttered the doctor. It may kill him. I hoped he wouldn't hear the alarm. Bring him to my house, too, said Mrs. Dermott. Another structure was fetched. The major lifted tenderly into it, and the sad procession started. The sepoys falling back silently to make way. Major hunt having been put to bed in one of the guest rooms of the political officer's house, McDonald with the aid of the subaltern servant undress war grave and examined his injuries. Noreen holding a basin for him while Muriel, shuddering, carried away the blood tinned water and brought fresh. The shot room, though severe, was not necessarily dangerous, and the bullet had not lodged in him. The doctor was relieved to find that the bayonet had not penetrated deeply, but it only glanced along a rib, tearing the intercostal muscles and inflicting a long jagged but superficial wound, which bled freely. Indeed, the most serious matter was the great loss of blood, which had weakened the subaltern considerably. War grave did not recover consciousness until early morning. When he opened his eyes they fell on Muriel sitting by his bed. He showed no surprise and the girl, scarce daring to believe that he was awake and knew her, did not venture to move. But as he continued to look steadily at her, she gently laid her hand on his where it lay on the coverlet. Then in a weak voice he said, Dearest, I mustn't love you, I mustn't. I'm bound in honor, bound to another woman, and I must play the game. It's hard sometimes, but if I die, I want you to know I loved you, only you. Her heart seemed to stop suddenly, then beat again with redoubled force. Was he conscious? Was he speaking to her? Did he know what his words meant? She waited eagerly for him to continue, but his hand closed on hers in a weak grip and shutting his eyes he seemed to sleep. The girl sank on her knees beside the bed and stared at the pale face that in those few words recurred to her and a sharp pain pierced her heart. There was another woman then, one who held his promise. Who was she? He could not be secretly married, surely no. It must be that he was engaged to some other girl, but he loved her, nearer he'll. He wanted to say so, he had said so, though he strove to hold back in honor bound, he would play the game. Ah, that he would do at any cost to himself, for she knew his shabruous nature, but he loved her, she was sure of it. Then the doubts came again. Did he know what he was saying? Was it perhaps only delirium that spoke? The fever of his wounds? The girl suffered an agony worse than death, as she knelt beside the bed. Her forehead on his hand and noreen, entering softly an hour later, found her still crouched there, weeping barely, but silently. Shortly after sunrise, MacDonald entered the house, wand and haggard, for he had not been to bed at all. Besides the hours that he had spent with his patients, he had been busy in the fort all night. He had to make an autopsy of the dead man, and, as the only officer available, investigate the crime, examine the witnesses, and the prisoner, who calmly confessed his guilt, and telegraph the news of the occurrence to regimental, divisional, and army headquarters. He found Major Hunt sleeping peacefully, but Wargrave woke as he tiptoed into the room and looked up at him. At first not seeing the woman, he was fully conscious, and asked eerily for an account of what had happened. Noreen and Muriel shuddered at the delight, with which he heard the murderers capture, for they were too tender-hearted to understand his passionate desire to avenge the cruel slaying of one of his men. When he turned away from MacDonald, he saw Muriel, his eyes shone eagerly for a moment, then seemed to dull as memory returned to him. He begged Mrs. Dermott to forgive him for upsetting her domestic arrangements by his intrusion into the house. Later in the morning, Noreen was sitting alone with him, having sent Muriel to lie down for a couple of hours. She had not been to bed herself, but after a bath and a change of clothing, had given her children their breakfast and bid in them to make no noise, because their beloved flanky was lying ill in the house. Yet she could not forbear to smile when she saw the porcunous gravity with which Ileane tiptoed out into the garden to tell Batshaw the news and order him to be very quiet. Now looking fresh and bright, she sat beside Wardbury's bed. Since the doctor had left him, he had lain thinking. He felt that Violet must be informed at once that he had been hurt, but was in no danger, lest she might learn of the occurrence through another source, and believe him to be worse than he really was. As he looked at Mrs. Dermott, the desire to ask her instead of McDonald, if she would be the one to communicate with Mrs. Norton drew overwhelming, and he felt that he wanted to confide to her the whole story. Sure that she would understand, and she would tell Muriel, for she had been quite conscious when she had spoken to the girl in the morning. It was only right after that she should know the truth, but he shrank from telling it to her himself. So he opened his heart to Noreen, and the understanding little woman listened sympathizingly and made no comment, and undertook to explain the situation to Muriel. So an hour or two later, when McDonald was again with the subaltern, she went to her friend's room and told her the whole story. The girl's first feeling was angered at the thought of Frank making love to a married woman. Seems to me it's a married woman who made it to him, from what I can gather, said Noreen, a little annoyed with Muriel for her way of receiving the story. He did not say so, but it was easy to guess the truth. Now my dear, don't be absurd. Men are not angels, and if a pretty woman thinks herself at the head of one of them, it's hard for him to keep her at arm's length. And you've seen yourself in Darjeeling how some of them, the married ones especially, do chase them. Her eyes grew hard as she continued. I remember how Kevin once was. Then she stopped. But Frank, how could he? How, oh, how could he? And he loved her, sawed the girl. Don't be silly, Muriel. I'll tell you, I don't believe he ever did. He loves you now. Oh, do you think he does? What am I to do? Nothing, merely go along as you've been doing. Just be friendly, and don't be hard on him. He's had a bad time. I've always felt that there was something troubling him. Now I know, and I'm not going to let him ruin himself and throw away his happiness for a woman who's not worth it. He's the nicest, cleanest-minded man I've known after Kevin, and my brother, he saved my babies. And for that, I'd do anything for him. I feel almost as if he were one of my children, and I'll stand by him if you won't. Oh, but I will, I will, cried the girl. But how can I help him? As I said, by acting as if nothing had happened, and just keep on being friends, it oughtn't to be hard. See how he's suffering, and think how brave he's been. Remember, he loves you, and you do care for him, don't you? I've an idea that he hopes that this woman is tiring of him, and may set him free. Of course he didn't say as much, but she nodded sagely. Her intuition had told her more of his feelings in a minute than Frank had dared to acknowledge to himself in many months. Anything I can do to help to bring that about, I will. The days went by, and Wargrave, aided by his clean living, the devoted nursing that he received. And the cool, healthy mountain air began to mend. Major Hunt had recovered and returned to duty, relieving the officer sent from headquarters to command during his illness. Colonel Dermott had come back from Simba with Frank's appointment to the political department as his assistant in his pocket. The murdered man had long ago been laid to rest by his comrades, but his slayer still sat fettered in the one cell of the fort, awaiting of the Great Court Marshal for his trial. And seeing from his barred window the even routine of the life that had been his for three years, still going on, but with no place in it for him. The period of Wargrave's convalescence was a very happy time for him. Muriel had remained a whole month after the eventful night. For Mrs. Dermott declared that, with the care of her house and children, she had no time to nurse a subaltern, and the girl must stay to do it while he was in any danger. So she lingered in the station to do him willing service. Wait on him, chat or read to him, give him her arm when he was first allowed to leave his room, and did it all with the bright, cheerful kindness of a friend. No more. She never alluded to his words to her, but her patient somehow guessed that she had not been angered by the revelation of the state of his feelings toward her. And from the tenderness of her manner to him, the unconscious jealousy that she displayed, if anyone, but she did any service for him, he began to have hope, have fear, that she cared a little for him in return. But even as he thought this, he realized that he must not allow her to do so. At last the time came when she had to return to her father down in the vast forest, and bravely she said goodbye to everyone, and most of all to Frank. The tears blinded her as she sat on the back of the elephant that bore her away, and saw the hills close in and shut from her gaze the little station that held her heart. Wargrave, however, was not left to pine in loneliness after her departure. All day long, as they were allowed, the children stayed with him, Iveen smothering him with her caresses at regular intervals. They told him their doings, confided their dearest secrets to him, and demanded stories. And Frankie wracked his brains to recall the fairy tales of his own childhood, to repeat to the golden-haired mites perched on his bed, and gazing at him in odd fascination. The girl uttering little shrieks at the harrowing details of the wicked deeds, of giant blunder bore, and the cruel deceit of the wolf that devoured red rotting hood. But the subulteran had a grimmer visitor one day. The orders came at last for girl Mohammed to be sent to Calcutta to stand his trial without waiting for Wargrave's recovery, the latter's evidence being taken on commission. The prisoner begged that he might be allowed to see the wounded officer before he left, and Frank, having consented, he was brought to the subulteran's bedroom when he was marched out of the fort on the first stage of his journey to the gallows. It was a dramatic scene. The stalwart young pathan in uniform with his wrist handcuffed stood with all the bold bearing of his race by the bedside of the man that he had tried to kill, while two powerful sepoys armed with drawn bayonets hemmed him in their hands on his shoulders. The prisoner looked for a moment at the pale face of the wounded man, then his bold eyes suffused with tears as he said, Huzoor the presence I am sorry had I known that night it was your honor I would not have lifted my rifle against you the sahib has always been good to me to all of us my enemy I slew as we of the pupana must do to all who insult us that deed I do not regret Wargrave looked up sorefully at the splendidly built young fellow barely 21 who had only done as he had been taught to do from his cradle among pathons blood only can wash away the stain of an insult the officer felt no anger against him for his own injuries and regretted that false notions of honor had led him to kill a comrade and were now sending him to a shameful death I am sorry go Muhammad very sorry he said you were always a good soldier and now you must die the path and drew himself up with all the hot he pride of his race I do not fear death sahib they will give me the noose but my father can spare me he has five other sons to fight for him if only sahib would forgive wargrave much moved held out his hand to him the prisoner touched it with his manacled ones then raised his fingers to his forehead for your kindness sahib salam then he turned and walked proudly out of the room and wargrave heard the tramp of heavy feet on the rocky road outside as the prisoner was marched away on the long trail to the gallows two months later gol Muhammad was hanged in the courtyard of ellipure jail in khakata before attachments of all the regiments garrison the city the subaltern had long shaft at the restraint of an invalid before mcdonald took him off the sick list and he was free to wander again with colonel dermit in the forest and among the mountains before the hot weather ended raiment came to spend three weeks with him and be initiated into the delights of sport in the great jungle when the long imprisonment of the reins came wargrave began to suffer in health for his wounds had sapped his strength more than he knew and mcdonald shook his head over him nor was he the only invalid for little brian grew pale and listless in the midst that enveloped the outpost constantly now until finally the doctor decreed that his mother much as she hated parting from her husband and her home must take the children to darjeeling and he ordered the subaltern to go to frank the dot replying after mrs. dermit had casually intimated that muriel benson was arranging to join her at the railway station and accompany her on a long visit to darjeeling it was wargrave's first introduction to our hill station and everything was a delightful novelty to him from the quaint little train that brought them up the 7000 feet to their destination in the pretty town of villas clubs and hotels in the mountains to the glorious panorama of the eternal snows and kitschkin jungas lofty crests that rise like fairyland into the sky at early dawn and under the brilliant indian moon as mrs. dermit could not often leave her children it was muriel who knew darjeeling well who became his guide together every day they set out from their hotel together they scaled the heights of jalapar or rolled down to watch the polo on the flat hilltop of li bong a thousand feet below together they explored the fascinating bazaar and bought ghost daggers and turquoise's in the quaint little shops together they went on picnics down into the deep valleys on the way to sick kim they played tennis ranked or danced together at the amusement club and the ladies at the tea tables in the great lounge smiled significantly and whispered to each other as the good-looking fair man and the pretty dark-haired girl came in together when the light was fading on the mountains frank forgot cares he ceased to brood unhappily for it had come to bat on violet who as her rare letters told him had spent the hot weather in the bombay hill station of ma have the war and was now enjoying life during the rains in gay poona she seldom wrote and then but scrappley and it seemed to him certain that she was forgetting him and he felt ashamed as the joy which filled him at the thought was he always destined to be only the friend of this girl he loved the lover of a woman to whom he wished to be a friend end of chapter 11 chapter 12 of the jungle girl by gordon casserly this leber vox recording is in the public domain recording by linda rey nielsen vancouver bc rooted in dishonor government house ganish kind outside pruna the residents of the governor of bombay during the rains was blazing with light and gay with the sound of music for his excellency was giving a fancy dress ball motors and carriages were still rolling up in a long line to the entrance where the gorgeously clad indian cavalry soldiers of the governor's bodyguard tall and stately black bearded men in long scarlet tunics white breeches and high black boots their heads swathed in gaudy loongies turbans with tails streaming down their backs holding steel-headed bamboo lances with red and white pennons in their white gauntleted right hands mind the approach inside the splendid ballroom ablaze with electric lights was crowded with gaily dressed figures in costumes beautiful or bizarre the good-looking middle-aged baron who was the king's representative in the bombay presidency was standing dressed as charles the second beside his plain but pleasant featured wife in the garb of a me rub start receiving the last of their guests while already the dancing had begun later in the evening a group of officers in very costumes stood near one of the entrances criticizing the dresses and the company by george that's a magnificent kit said a garrison gunner just arrived on short leave from bombay what's it supposed to be a polish hussar i think replied a subaltern in well seas rifles no he's marat napoleon's cavalry leader said an indian lancer captain the wearer of the costume alluded to was passing them in a waltz he was a young man in a splendid old-time hussar uniform a scarlet doleman thick laced with gold a fur trim slung police tight scarlet breeches embroidered down the front of the thighs in gold and long red russian leather boots with gold tassels he was good-looking but not in an english way and the swordiness of his complexion and a slight kink in his dark hair seemed to hint a trace of colored blood he was plainly israelite in appearance and the large nose with the unmistakable racial curved nostril would become bulbous with years the firm cheeks flabby and the plump chin double that dress cost some money i bet said the gunner cheaply attired as a parole just look at the gold lace i say he's got glass bottoms glass be hanged furgy their diamonds real diamonds on her bright marat wore diamonds he was bucking about them in the club tonight said a captain in a british infantry regiment quartered in pruna that's raffensall of the second hussars from banglidore son of the old raffensall of the south african multi-millionaire a shini of course who's the woman he's dancing with asked the gunner jolly good-looking she is that's mrs. norton wife of a political somewhere in the presidency rossenthal's always in her pocket since he met her at mahabash war as the dance ended the many couples streamed out of the ballroom and made for the kala jagas the black places as the sitting out spots are appropriately turned in india from the carefully arranged lack of light in them mrs. norton looking very lovely as mary queen of scots and her partner crossed the veranda and went out into the unlit garden in search of seats the first few they stumbled on were already occupied a fact that the darkness prevented them from realizing until they almost sat down on the occupants at last in a retired corner of the garden rossenthal found a bench in a recess in the wall as they seated themselves he blurted out roughly i'm sick of all this by when do you mean to give me your answer i'm damned if i'm going to hang on waiting much longer i'm fed up with india and the army i need to cut it all well harry what do you want asked his companion smiling in the darkness at his remnants what you and you know it i want to take you away from this rotten country what's all this he waved his hand toward the lighted ballroom compared to paris multicarlo chiral austin when the races are on let's go where life is worth living this is stagnation oh i find it amusing you forget we women have a better time in india than in europe there are too many of us there so you don't value us better time oh la what rot he laughed rudely you never lived yet dear look here by my father's one of the three richest men in south africa and all he's got will come to me someday as it is he gives me an allowance bigger than those of all the other men in the regiment put together i hate the service and its idiotic discipline i want to be free to go where money counts damn india doesn't it count everywhere she asked fanny herself lazily his rough almost borish manner amused her always she felt as if she were playing with the cage tiger doesn't it here no in the army they seem to think more of some damn popper who comes of a county family as they call it then of a fellow like me who could buy up a dozen of them i hate them all and i mean to chuck it but i want you to come with me buy and what's more i mean to have you but your father wishes you to stay in the service you told me so yourself will he like it if you leave and will he continue your allowance oh i'll get around him he's only got me he's no one else to leave his money to it'll be all right vye answer me i mean to get you he grasped her wrist and tried to drag her towards him she laughed and held him off take care my dear boy darkness has ears we're not alone in the garden please remember if you can't behave prettily i'm going back to the ballroom come there's the music beginning again he tried to seize her in his arms but she alluded his grasp with a dexterity that argued practice and rising moved across the grass he followed softly dominated by her call and careless indifference when they reached a veranda one of the government house aids to come rushed up to her oh mrs. norton i've been hunting for you everywhere i've a message from his excellency he wants you to come to his table at supper and save him from the members of council's awful wives oh thanks captain garner i'll come with pleasure she answered smiling prettily on him and a dc is always worth cultivating i say it is hopeless asking you for a dance now he said we poor devils of the staff don't get a chance at the beginning of the evening as we're so busy introducing people to their excellencies she looked at her program you can have this if you like it's only with some indian civilian in spectacles and i hate the heaven born they're such boars she smiled and sailed off on the adc's arm to the disgust of ross until calmly abandoned but he could not help being amused when a round faced young man dressed as an ancient greek with gig lamp spectacles rushed up to overtake mrs. norton before she entered the ballroom and stopped in dismay to gaze after her open mouth and peer at his program but the hustler drove her back from government house to puna in his particularly luxurious rose rice with an english chauffeur and would hardly let her go when the car drew up before the door of the monster hotel where she was staying laughing crushed and disheveled she broke from him and jumped out of the automobile ran up the veranda steps and turned to waved him as the chauffeur started off to take him to his quarters in the club of western india still smiling violet stumbled up the unlighted stairs and reached her sitting room when she turned up the lamp a letter lying on the table caught her eyes she picked it up indifferently but when she saw that it bore the handwriting of one of her calcutta cousins and the darjeeling postmark she tore it open eagerly and ran her eye rapidly down the pages she came to the lines i have seen the man you asked me about he is always with a girl called benson rather a pretty little thing she is popular with all the men but mr. whore gray seems to be the favorite they are staying at the same hotel and everyone says they are engaged then the writer went on to talk of family matters but violet bread no more her eyes flamed with anger as she crumpled the paper flung it on the floor and stamped it underfoot she paced the room angrily pairing the lace hanger chief she held in her hands to shreds this then was frank's loyalty to her this was how he consoled himself for her absence with this chit of a girl with whom he probably laughed at her violet's readiness to give up reputation good fame home for him she almost solved with jealous rage at the idea she forgot her own infidelities and want of remembrance and felt herself to be a deceived and much abused woman but she would not bear such treatment meekly frank was hers no other woman had a right to him should ever have him she was resolved on that she stopped and picking up the letter smooth it out and reread it then frowning she passed into her bedroom and tore off her costume not for an instant did she sleep during the remainder of the night but tossed on her bed revolving plans of vengeance next day she was seated in the train on her way to darjeeling a journey that would take days she had telegraphed fruitlessly for a room at the oriental hotel at which she knew from his letters that frank was staying but she had secured one at the larger eastern palace where her kakata relatives were residing only on the second day of her journey did she wire to war grave bidding him meet her on her arrival as the train carried her across india her heart was still filled with anger jealousy and almost hate of the man whom she had favored above all others and who spurned her dared to be faithless to her it seemed she did not know how much love she had left for him for his image had grown dim in the flight of time and among the distractions of gayer stations then rohar certainly she had flirted herself flirted recklessly but that was a different matter to his faithfulness she might do it but he must not did she want him she hardly knew but she was not going to be put aside for this tiger killing young person this jungle girl who must be taught not to trespass on violence property then her mind went back to rosenthal and in the solitude of the lady's compartment she laughed aloud at the thought of the shock that his self-sufficiency must have received when he learned of her sudden and mysterious disappearance from pluna for she had left him no word it would do him good he needed a lesson for he was too sure of her she had never trouble to analyze her feelings for him and did not know whether she liked or hated him most she saw his faults clearly his blatant conceit his irritating belief in the supremacy of money his arrogance his bad manners she knew that men deemed him a blounder but his very broochness his savage outbreaks against conventionality attracted her under the thin veneer of civilization he was simply an animal she knew it and it appealed to her baser nature the sensual stream in her that he was beast and wild beast at that did not affright her she felt that she could always dominate him when she would once or twice the beast had come out into the open but she had driven it back with a whip and she believed that she could always do it the wealth the life of luxury that he offered appealed to her strongly but she kept her head and remembered that he was dependent on his father's bounty and she had no intention of compromising herself irretrievably under such circumstances if he had the disposal of the old man's immense riches then the temptation might be overpowering but until he had she would wait and ever the memory of wargrave obtruded itself rather to her annoyance but angry as she was with him she could not pretend to herself that she was indifferent to him up in Darjeeling on the very day that she left Pune Frank sat with miss Benson under a massive orchid clad tree in the lovely botanical gardens gazing moodly down into the depths of the valley far below them turning suddenly he found his companion looking at him something in her eyes moved him strongly and he forgot his caution Muriel you know how it is with me he said impectuously I oughtn't to say anything but well all the men here run after you and I can't bear it I'm a fool I know but I can't help being jealous I'm always afraid that some one of them will take you from me the other woman seems to be forgetting me completely she hasn't written to me for weeks months surely she's tiring of me I don't suppose she ever really cared for me just was bored in that doll station if if she sets me free would you could you ever like me well enough to marry me the girl looked away over the valley and a little small crept into her eyes then she turned to him and laid her hand on his dear boy if you were free I would she answered then they were all alone no one to see them and his arms went out to her but she drew back not yet dear you're another woman's property still she said he bit his lip yes you're right sweetheart but well even if I weren't I haven't much to offer you I'm still in debt and I'd only be condemning you to pass all your existence in the jungle there'd be no hardship in that dear I love the fours better than anywhere else in the world life in it is happiness to me but would you be content to live as mrs. Dermott does content I'd love it better than anything else if I were with you then he forgot her reproof and she her high-minded resolves as his arms went around her and he drew her to him until their lips met in a long passionate kiss afterwards they sat hand in hand and talked of what the future would hold for them if only fate were kind and mrs. Norton speeding across India to shatter their dream world smiled a little grimly as she pictured to herself her meeting with Frank next day the blow fell wargreen was sitting at lunch with mrs. Dermott and Muriel in the hotel dining room when Violet's telegram was handed to him his companions could see that he had received bad news but he pulled himself together and said nothing about it until he was alone with mrs. Dermott in her private sitting room after Tiffin then he explained suddenly handing her the telegram she's on her way here Noreen understood even before she looked at the paper when she read the message she asked what's she coming here for I don't know I haven't a letter from her for a long time he replied weirdly what are you going to do about her what can I he said with a gesture of despair it's for her to decide if she wishes it I must keep my word but Muriel what of her you know she cares for you has she no right to be considered demanded her friend impatiently are you going to ruin her life as well as yours this woman will only drag you down she can't really be fond of you or she wouldn't forget you as she has been doing you don't love her don't you see what it will all mean to you to be pilloried in the divorce court made to pay enormous costs perhaps heavy damages as well and even now you say you're in debt and then to be chained for life to a woman you don't care about while you're in love with another oh mr. Wargrave do be sensible tell her the truth tell her you can't go on with it I've given her my word he said simply she pleaded with him passionately but to no avail at last as Muriel entered the room she rose saying tell her I'll not mention the subject again and she walked intently into her bedroom and shut the door almost with the bang for the little woman was furious with him for what she deemed his crass stupidity what's the matter with Doreen as the girl in surprise without a word he gave her the telegram oh frank she gasped and sank overwhelmed into a chair letting the fatal paper flutter to the floor he did not go to her but stood by the window the image of despair gazing out with unseen eyes what am I to do he asked miserably you must keep your word if she whispers that answered the girl bravely but the next moment she broke down and bearing her face in her hands with bitterly he made no move to her and she rose and went quietly back to her own room in the interval that elapsed before Violet's arrival mrs. Dermott did not abandon hope and in spite of her words she attacked Wargrave persistently trying to shake his resolution but to her despair Muriel sided with him and declared that he was right so finally Noreen gave it up and vowed that she would wash her hands of the whole affair when Violet reached Darjeeling Wargrave met her at the railway station face to face with him her anger died and something of the attraction he had had for her revived so she greeted him effusedly and all but embraced him on the platform other men seeing the meeting wondered why he looked so miserable when such a lovely woman evinced her delight at seeing him so plainly she passed her arm through his with an air of possession and chatted volubly while he watched his servant help hers to collect her luggage when she took her seat in the dandy or chair carried on the shoulders of Cooley's and was being conveyed towards her hotel she behaved as though they had not been parted a week rather on gaily about her doings in Puna and Malabesh war and with all the glories of the Himalayas about her declared that the Bombay hill station was far lovelier than Darjeeling Wargrave was relieved that she showed no desire to be sentimental and gladly responded to her mood detailing the forthcoming guilloties and promising to take her to them all when they reached the eastern palace hotel and were shown up into her private sitting room she put her hands on his shoulders as soon as they were alone and said let me look at you Frank you have improved you've grown handsomer I think aren't you going to kiss me he did it with so little fever that she made a grimace and thought it's quite time that I came to bring him to heal not much loving ardor about that I wonder if he kisses the jungle girl as coldly allowed she said now let's get down to Tiffin I'm starving will you please secure a table and I'll follow you in a few minutes during the meal she chattered gaily criticized the dresses and appearance of the other women in the dining room and chafing him merrily on his want of appetite ate a substantial meal herself mrs. Durmet anxious to befriend him had thought that she could help him by inviting him to bring mrs. Norton to tea with her that afternoon when during Tiffin he hesitatingly conveyed the invitation violet said oh I don't want to be bothered with women my dear boy take me out and show me the place and the shops and the gym canna what do you call it here oh the amusement club no stop a minute mrs. Durmet is your dear friend from rangadouard isn't she so she's here and the other the jungle girl where is she frank flushed as he replied I suppose you mean miss Benson she's with mrs. Durmet so you're all staying at the same hotel how very nice for you but my dear frank doesn't it strike you that it'll be rather dull for me staying by myself here you have to change to this hotel I asked about rooms here but they told me they're full up now I'll see if I can't get round the manager and make him find a corner for you well now for this tea party yes on second thoughts I'll go I'd like to see the ladies who been consoling you for my absence oh nonsense violet they haven't they're just friends that's all he said irritably of course dear I know well tell me what these just friends are like she certainly derived little idea of them from wargraves lane attempt at description and when later she and he were shown into mrs. Durmet's sitting room at tea time noreen and muriel found his picture of her as a meek long-suffering neglected wife very unlike the radiant condescending lady who patronized them from the start she showed a tendency to address most of the conversation to the girl despite the latter's evident discoloration to talk or perhaps because of it for the older woman seemed to take an impish delight in teasing her about her friendship with wargrave and the relations as nurse and patient although it was apparent that her malicious humor made the others uncomfortable she paraded her authority over frank and treated him like a hand packed husband when finally she bore him away to escort her to the amusement club she left the two girls speechless behind her but not for the same reason noreen was furious what a hateful woman she exclaimed as soon as her visitor departed and i pitied her as a poor neglected wife what do you think of her muriel only shook her head as she sat looking despondent and thoroughly miserable mrs. norton's malice affected her little but her undoubted loveliness had made her despair how could an insignificant little person like herself she thought hoped to win affection from any man whom this radiant beauty deigned to favor frank could not help adoring so attractive a woman he must have loved her in rohar although he said that he had not muriel felt that she could have resigned herself more easily to his keeping his word to violet if the latter had been less good-looking mrs. dermit broke in on her miserable thoughts come here we'll take the children for their walk and then go on later to the amusement club i couldn't go to the club this evening noreen i really couldn't we'd only see that woman again with frank well but of it we're not going to let her think we're afraid to face her i've no patience with mr. wargrave whatever he can see in her i can't think you're worth 20 of her darling shallow conceded she neglected she badly treated my sympathy is with her husband now what fools men are and noreen swept indigly from the room every moment of the hour that they spent in the club that evening was a lifetime of torture to muriel she had faced a charging tire with less dread than she did the crowd at the tea tables in the rink she fancied that every woman who looked at her was laughing in her sleeve at her that every man who bowed or spoke to her was pitying her suddenly her heart seemed to stop beating for she saw frank sitting with mrs. norton and two other ladies her kakata cousins as well as a couple of men in the british infantry regiment at le bong they were looking at her as she felt that violet was pointing her out as the deserted maiden she tried to smile bravely when her rival waved her hand and called out a cheery good evening to her and noreen who answered the greeting with an almost defiant air of unconcern for days afterwards she saw practically nothing of war grave who was obliged to be in constant attendance on mrs. norton violet had induced the manager of the hotel to find a room for him and he was forced to transfer himself and his belongings to the eastern palace she monopolized him insisted on his taking her shopping in the mornings calling in the afternoons are to le bong to watch the polo or else playing tennis with her at the amusement club he dined with her every evening and escorted her to the dances concerts or theatricals that fill the nights during the season he hardly recognized her in the gay social butterfly with seemingly never a care in the world and she made him wonder every day if she had any love left for him or wanted him to have any for her for she showed no desire to be sentimental and treated him very much as she had in the early days of their acquaintance she never discussed the future he had not the moral courage to ask her outright if she still wanted to come to him she gave no indication of being happy only in his company for she soon began to release him from attendance on her occasions in favor of some one or another of the new men friends that she rapidly made he took advantage of this to see something of miriel again but this did not suit mrs. norton even if she did not want frank herself that was no reason why the girl should have him she tried being jealous and insisted on his breaking off the friendship but although he hated the scenes that ensued he resolutely refused to do so then violet adopted another plan she pretended to be convinced by his assurances that it meant nothing and declared that she wished to be friends with miriel she went out of her way to be nice to the girl when they met in public and at last invited her to tea at the eastern palace hotel on an afternoon on which she knew mrs. dermit to be engaged miriel accepted because she did not know very well how to refuse when she was shown into mrs. norton's private sitting room she found wargrave already there with her hostess who received her very amiably during tea the conversation flowed in safe channels at first but suddenly violet startled her guests by saying now miss benson that we three are alone i think it a good opportunity to speak very plainly about frank's relations with you i've just been giving him a serious talking to about the way he has behaved to you the girl drew herself up hotly what do you mean mrs. norton she said the way mr. wargrave has behaved i don't understand you oh yes you do it's best to speak plainly i'm afraid frank has been leading you to believe that he's in love with you violet broke in wargrave angrily please don't go on you've no right to say such things she smiled sweetly on him yes i have frank you know my dear boy that you've got pretty ways with women i fear he's rather a flirt miss benson that you are apt to make some of them think you mean more than you do what absurd nonsense he cried more angrily still please stop i beg of you no frank it is only right that i should warn miss benson she turned to the girl he hasn't told you i'm sure that he's not free to marry you or any other girl wargrave sprang up i told her everything about us violet he protested i asked you as a favor to drop the subject the girl sat as if turned to stone while mrs. norton went on you are young my dear and can't know much about men i suppose you lived in the jungle all your life now a little bird has told me that you let yourself get too fond of frank oh he's very charming i know and this playing at nursing a poor wounded hero is a dangerous game but i'm going to tell you plainly that frank is pledged to me he has asked me to leave my husband for him and i consented so there's no use you're trying to catch him my dear you're too late the girl sprang indignantly to her feet i've done nothing of the sort mrs norton how dare you say so you've no right to speak to me as you're doing the older woman sat back coolly in her chair and laughed but her eyes grew hard oh yes i have my dear girl you too were the talk of darjeeling before i came of course you're angry naturally at feeling to catch him but i'm going to put a stop to your trying here and now he has got to break with you you are a wicked woman began the girl and then a dignation told her mrs norton leaned forward in her chair can you deny that you're in love with him she asked wargrave tried to interpose but the girl waved him aside and faced her rival i'll answer you i am i love him as you could never do i was willing to give him up to you for he loves me not you so that he should not be false to his word i didn't know what you were like then but now i don't believe you've ever made him happy you don't love him you haven't got it in you you wouldn't be content with any one man i've watched you you're absolutely heartless and you'd only make frank miserable you're willing to disgrace him as well as yourself you don't mind if you ruin him frank she turned to wargrave you said you love me is it true he answered firmly yes i do then will you marry me this woman will only wreck your life choose between us he turned in desperation to mrs norton violet you don't really want me do you you don't love me i fell for a long time that you're forgetting me i love muriel and she loves me if you ever cared for me release me from my promise mrs norton laid back calmly in her chair and looked with a smile from one to the other then she said deliberately this morning i wrote my husband and told him that i was never returning to him that i was going to you frank that is why i asked this girl here today to tell you before her that now i'm going to ask you to keep your promise will you the girl looked at him appealingly and stretched out her hands to him frank for your own sake if not for mine don't listen to her he stood irresolute torn by conflicting emotions then with an effort he replied muriel i must i can't break my word mrs norton gave a mocking laugh the girl shrank from him and hit her face in her hands for a moment then she looked up and said desperately calm very well be it so you've decided and there's nothing more to be said you've shamed me before this woman and i never want to see you again she turned and walked out of the room end of chapter 12 recording by linda mary nielson thank uber bc