THE ARREST OF LIEUTENANT GOLIGHTLY.
"'I've forgotten the countersign,' sez 'e. 'Oh! You 'aye, 'ave you?' sez I. 'But I'm the Colonel,' sez 'e. 'Oh! You are, are you?' sez I. 'Colonel nor no Colonel, you waits 'ere till I'm relieved, an' the Sarjint reports on your ugly old mug. Coop!' sez I. . . . . . . . . . An' s'help me soul, 'twas the Colonel after all! But I was a recruity then."
The Unedited Autobiography of Private Ortheris.
IF there was one thing on which Golightly prided himself more thananother, it was looking like "an Officer and a gentleman." He said itwas for the honor of the Service that he attired himself so elaborately;but those who knew him best said that it was just personal vanity. Therewas no harm about Golightly--not an ounce. He recognized a horse whenhe saw one, and could do more than fill a cantle. He played a very fairgame at billiards, and was a sound man at the whist-table. Everyoneliked him; and nobody ever dreamed of seeing him handcuffed on a stationplatform as a deserter. But this sad thing happened.
He was going down from Dalhousie, at the end of his leave--riding down.He had cut his leave as fine as he dared, and wanted to come down in ahurry.
It was fairly warm at Dalhousie, and knowing what to expect below, hedescended in a new khaki suit--tight fitting--of a delicate olive-green;a peacock-blue tie, white collar, and a snowy white solah helmet. Heprided himself on looking neat even when he was riding post. He didlook neat, and he was so deeply concerned about his appearance before hestarted that he quite forgot to take anything but some small change withhim. He left all his notes at the hotel. His servants had gone down theroad before him, to be ready in waiting at Pathankote with a change ofgear. That was what he called travelling in "light marching-order." Hewas proud of his faculty of organization--what we call bundobust.
Twenty-two miles out of Dalhousie it began to rain--not a merehill-shower, but a good, tepid monsoonish downpour. Golightly bustledon, wishing that he had brought an umbrella. The dust on the roadsturned into mud, and the pony mired a good deal. So did Golightly'skhaki gaiters. But he kept on steadily and tried to think how pleasantthe coolth was.
His next pony was rather a brute at starting, and Golightly's handsbeing slippery with the rain, contrived to get rid of Golightly at acorner. He chased the animal, caught it, and went ahead briskly. Thespill had not improved his clothes or his temper, and he had lost onespur. He kept the other one employed. By the time that stage was ended,the pony had had as much exercise as he wanted, and, in spite of therain, Golightly was sweating freely. At the end of another miserablehalf-hour, Golightly found the world disappear before his eyes in clammypulp. The rain had turned the pith of his huge and snowy solah-topeeinto an evil-smelling dough, and it had closed on his head like ahalf-opened mushroom. Also the green lining was beginning to run.
Golightly did not say anything worth recording here. He tore off andsqueezed up as much of the brim as was in his eyes and ploughed on. Theback of the helmet was flapping on his neck and the sides stuck tohis ears, but the leather band and green lining kept things roughlytogether, so that the hat did not actually melt away where it flapped.
Presently, the pulp and the green stuff made a sort of slimy mildewwhich ran over Golightly in several directions--down his back andbosom for choice. The khaki color ran too--it was really shockingly baddye--and sections of Golightly were brown, and patches were violet,and contours were ochre, and streaks were ruddy red, and blotches werenearly white, according to the nature and peculiarities of the dye.When he took out his handkerchief to wipe his face and the green of thehat-lining and the purple stuff that had soaked through on to his neckfrom the tie became thoroughly mixed, the effect was amazing.
Near Dhar the rain stopped and the evening sun came out and dried him upslightly. It fixed the colors, too. Three miles from Pathankote the lastpony fell dead lame, and Golightly was forced to walk. He pushed oninto Pathankote to find his servants. He did not know then that hiskhitmatgar had stopped by the roadside to get drunk, and would come onthe next day saying that he had sprained his ankle. When he got intoPathankote, he couldn't find his servants, his boots were stiff and ropywith mud, and there were large quantities of dirt about his body. Theblue tie had run as much as the khaki. So he took it off with the collarand threw it away. Then he said something about servants generally andtried to get a peg. He paid eight annas for the drink, and this revealedto him that he had only six annas more in his pocket--or in the world ashe stood at that hour.
He went to the Station-Master to negotiate for a first-class ticket toKhasa, where he was stationed. The booking-clerk said something tothe Station-Master, the Station-Master said something to the TelegraphClerk, and the three looked at him with curiosity. They asked him towait for half-an-hour, while they telegraphed to Umritsar forauthority. So he waited, and four constables came and grouped themselvespicturesquely round him. Just as he was preparing to ask them to goaway, the Station-Master said that he would give the Sahib a ticketto Umritsar, if the Sahib would kindly come inside the booking-office.Golightly stepped inside, and the next thing he knew was that aconstable was attached to each of his legs and arms, while theStation-Master was trying to cram a mailbag over his head.
There was a very fair scuffle all round the booking-office, andGolightly received a nasty cut over his eye through falling againsta table. But the constables were too much for him, and they and theStation-Master handcuffed him securely. As soon as the mail-bag wasslipped, he began expressing his opinions, and the head-constablesaid:--"Without doubt this is the soldier-Englishman we required. Listento the abuse!" Then Golightly asked the Station-Master what the thisand the that the proceedings meant. The Station-Master told him he was"Private John Binkle of the ---- Regiment, 5 ft. 9 in., fair hair,gray eyes, and a dissipated appearance, no marks on the body," who haddeserted a fortnight ago. Golightly began explaining at great length;and the more he explained the less the Station-Master believed him. Hesaid that no Lieutenant could look such a ruffian as did Golightly, andthat his instructions were to send his capture under proper escort toUmritsar. Golightly was feeling very damp and uncomfortable, and thelanguage he used was not fit for publication, even in an expurgatedform. The four constables saw him safe to Umritsar in an "intermediate"compartment, and he spent the four-hour journey in abusing them asfluently as his knowledge of the vernaculars allowed.
At Umritsar he was bundled out on the platform into the arms of aCorporal and two men of the ---- Regiment. Golightly drew himself upand tried to carry off matters jauntily. He did not feel too jaunty inhandcuffs, with four constables behind him, and the blood from thecut on his forehead stiffening on his left cheek. The Corporal was notjocular either. Golightly got as far as--"This is a very absurd mistake,my men," when the Corporal told him to "stow his lip" and come along.Golightly did not want to come along. He desired to stop and explain.He explained very well indeed, until the Corporal cut in with:--"YOUa orficer! It's the like o' YOU as brings disgrace on the likes of US.Bloom-in' fine orficer you are! I know your regiment. The Rogue'sMarch is the quickstep where you come from. You're a black shame to theService."
Golightly kept his temper, and began explaining all over again from thebeginning. Then he was marched out of the rain into the refreshment-roomand told not to make a qualified fool of himself. The men were going torun him up to Fort Govindghar. And "running up" is a performance almostas undignified as the Frog March.
Golightly was nearly hysterical with rage and the chill and the mistakeand the handcuffs and the headache that the cut on his forehead hadgiven him. He really laid himself out to express what was in his mind.When he had quite finished and his throat was feeling dry, one of themen said:--"I've 'eard a few beggars in the click blind, stiff and crackon a bit; but I've never 'eard any one to touch this 'ere 'orficer.'"They were not angry with him. They rather admired him. They had somebeer at the refreshment-room, and offered Golightly some too, becausehe had "swore won'erful." The
y asked him to tell them all about theadventures of Private John Binkle while he was loose on the countryside;and that made Golightly wilder than ever. If he had kept his wits abouthim he would have kept quiet until an officer came; but he attempted torun.
Now the butt of a Martini in the small of your back hurts a great deal,and rotten, rain-soaked khaki tears easily when two men are jerking atyour collar.
Golightly rose from the floor feeling very sick and giddy, with hisshirt ripped open all down his breast and nearly all down his back. Heyielded to his luck, and at that point the down-train from Lahore camein carrying one of Golightly's Majors.
This is the Major's evidence in full:--
"There was the sound of a scuffle in the second-class refreshment-room,so I went in and saw the most villainous loafer that I ever set eyes on.His boots and breeches were plastered with mud and beer-stains. He worea muddy-white dunghill sort of thing on his head, and it hung down inslips on his shoulders, which were a good deal scratched. He was half inand half out of a shirt as nearly in two pieces as it could be, and hewas begging the guard to look at the name on the tail of it. As he hadrucked the shirt all over his head, I couldn't at first see who he was,but I fancied that he was a man in the first stage of D. T. from the wayhe swore while he wrestled with his rags. When he turned round, and Ihad made allowance for a lump as big as a pork-pie over one eye, andsome green war-paint on the face, and some violet stripes round theneck, I saw that it was Golightly. He was very glad to see me," said theMajor, "and he hoped I would not tell the Mess about it. I didn't, butyou can if you like, now that Golightly has gone Home."
Golightly spent the greater part of that summer in trying to get theCorporal and the two soldiers tried by Court-Martial for arresting an"officer and a gentleman." They were, of course, very sorry for theirerror. But the tale leaked into the regimental canteen, and thence ranabout the Province.