Plain Tales from the Hills

  HIS WEDDED WIFE.

  Cry "Murder!" in the market-place, and each Will turn upon his neighbor anxious eyes That ask:--"Art thou the man?" We hunted Cain, Some centuries ago, across the world, That bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain To-day.

  Vibart's Moralities.

  Shakespeare says something about worms, or it may be giants or beetles,turning if you tread on them too severely. The safest plan is never totread on a worm--not even on the last new subaltern from Home, with hisbuttons hardly out of their tissue paper, and the red of sappy Englishbeef in his cheeks. This is the story of the worm that turned. Forthe sake of brevity, we will call Henry Augustus Ramsay Faizanne, "TheWorm," although he really was an exceedingly pretty boy, without a hairon his face, and with a waist like a girl's when he came out to theSecond "Shikarris" and was made unhappy in several ways. The "Shikarris"are a high-caste regiment, and you must be able to do things well--playa banjo or ride more than a little, or sing, or act--to get on withthem.

  The Worm did nothing except fall off his pony, and knock chips out ofgate-posts with his trap. Even that became monotonous after a time. Heobjected to whist, cut the cloth at billiards, sang out of tune, keptvery much to himself, and wrote to his Mamma and sisters at Home. Fourof these five things were vices which the "Shikarris" objected to andset themselves to eradicate. Every one knows how subalterns are, bybrother subalterns, softened and not permitted to be ferocious. It isgood and wholesome, and does no one any harm, unless tempers are lost;and then there is trouble. There was a man once--but that is anotherstory.

  The "Shikarris" shikarred The Worm very much, and he bore everythingwithout winking. He was so good and so anxious to learn, and flushedso pink, that his education was cut short, and he was left to his owndevices by every one except the Senior Subaltern, who continued to makelife a burden to The Worm. The Senior Subaltern meant no harm; but hischaff was coarse, and he didn't quite understand where to stop. He hadbeen waiting too long for his company; and that always sours a man. Alsohe was in love, which made him worse.

  One day, after he had borrowed The Worm's trap for a lady who neverexisted, had used it himself all the afternoon, had sent a note to TheWorm purporting to come from the lady, and was telling the Mess allabout it, The Worm rose in his place and said, in his quiet, ladylikevoice: "That was a very pretty sell; but I'll lay you a month's pay toa month's pay when you get your step, that I work a sell on you thatyou'll remember for the rest of your days, and the Regiment after youwhen you're dead or broke." The Worm wasn't angry in the least, and therest of the Mess shouted. Then the Senior Subaltern looked at The Wormfrom the boots upwards, and down again, and said, "Done, Baby." The Wormtook the rest of the Mess to witness that the bet had been taken, andretired into a book with a sweet smile.

  Two months passed, and the Senior Subaltern still educated The Worm,who began to move about a little more as the hot weather came on. I havesaid that the Senior Subaltern was in love. The curious thing is thata girl was in love with the Senior Subaltern. Though the Colonel saidawful things, and the Majors snorted, and married Captains lookedunutterable wisdom, and the juniors scoffed, those two were engaged.

  The Senior Subaltern was so pleased with getting his Company and hisacceptance at the same time that he forgot to bother The Worm. The girlwas a pretty girl, and had money of her own. She does not come into thisstory at all.

  One night, at the beginning of the hot weather, all the Mess, except TheWorm, who had gone to his own room to write Home letters, were sittingon the platform outside the Mess House. The Band had finished playing,but no one wanted to go in. And the Captains' wives were there also.The folly of a man in love is unlimited. The Senior Subaltern had beenholding forth on the merits of the girl he was engaged to, and theladies were purring approval, while the men yawned, when there was arustle of skirts in the dark, and a tired, faint voice lifted itself:

  "Where's my husband?"

  I do not wish in the least to reflect on the morality of the"Shikarris;" but it is on record that four men jumped up as if they hadbeen shot. Three of them were married men. Perhaps they were afraid thattheir wives had come from Home unbeknownst. The fourth said that he hadacted on the impulse of the moment. He explained this afterwards.

  Then the voice cried:--"Oh, Lionel!" Lionel was the Senior Subaltern'sname. A woman came into the little circle of light by the candles onthe peg-tables, stretching out her hands to the dark where the SeniorSubaltern was, and sobbing. We rose to our feet, feeling that thingswere going to happen and ready to believe the worst. In this bad, smallworld of ours, one knows so little of the life of the next man--which,after all, is entirely his own concern--that one is not surprised whena crash comes. Anything might turn up any day for any one. Perhaps theSenior Subaltern had been trapped in his youth. Men are crippled thatway occasionally. We didn't know; we wanted to hear; and the Captains'wives were as anxious as we. If he HAD been trapped, he was to beexcused; for the woman from nowhere, in the dusty shoes, and graytravelling dress, was very lovely, with black hair and great eyes fullof tears. She was tall, with a fine figure, and her voice had a runningsob in it pitiful to hear. As soon as the Senior Subaltern stood up, shethrew her arms round his neck, and called him "my darling," and said shecould not bear waiting alone in England, and his letters were so shortand cold, and she was his to the end of the world, and would he forgiveher. This did not sound quite like a lady's way of speaking. It was toodemonstrative.

  Things seemed black indeed, and the Captains' wives peered under theireyebrows at the Senior Subaltern, and the Colonel's face set like theDay of Judgment framed in gray bristles, and no one spoke for a while.

  Next the Colonel said, very shortly:--"Well, Sir?" and the woman sobbedafresh. The Senior Subaltern was half choked with the arms round hisneck, but he gasped out:--"It's a d----d lie! I never had a wife in mylife!" "Don't swear," said the Colonel. "Come into the Mess. We mustsift this clear somehow," and he sighed to himself, for he believed inhis "Shikarris," did the Colonel.

  We trooped into the ante-room, under the full lights, and there wesaw how beautiful the woman was. She stood up in the middle of us all,sometimes choking with crying, then hard and proud, and then holdingout her arms to the Senior Subaltern. It was like the fourth act of atragedy. She told us how the Senior Subaltern had married her when hewas Home on leave eighteen months before; and she seemed to know allthat we knew, and more too, of his people and his past life. He waswhite and ashy gray, trying now and again to break into the torrentof her words; and we, noting how lovely she was and what a criminal helooked, esteemed him a beast of the worst kind. We felt sorry for him,though.

  I shall never forget the indictment of the Senior Subaltern by his wife.Nor will he. It was so sudden, rushing out of the dark, unannounced,into our dull lives. The Captains' wives stood back; but their eyes werealight, and you could see that they had already convicted and sentencedthe Senior Subaltern. The Colonel seemed five years older. One Major wasshading his eyes with his hand and watching the woman from underneathit. Another was chewing his moustache and smiling quietly as if hewere witnessing a play. Full in the open space in the centre, by thewhist-tables, the Senior Subaltern's terrier was hunting for fleas. Iremember all this as clearly as though a photograph were in my hand.I remember the look of horror on the Senior Subaltern's face. It wasrather like seeing a man hanged; but much more interesting. Finally, thewoman wound up by saying that the Senior Subaltern carried a double F.M. in tattoo on his left shoulder. We all knew that, and to our innocentminds it seemed to clinch the matter. But one of the Bachelor Majorssaid very politely:--"I presume that your marriage certificate would bemore to the purpose?"

  That roused the woman. She stood up and sneered at the Senior Subalternfor a cur, and abused the Major and the Colonel and all the rest.Then she wept, and then she pulled a paper from her breast, sayingimperially:--"Take that! And let my husband--my lawfully weddedhusband--read it aloud--if he dare!"


  There was a hush, and the men looked into each other's eyes as theSenior Subaltern came forward in a dazed and dizzy way, and took thepaper. We were wondering as we stared, whether there was anythingagainst any one of us that might turn up later on. The SeniorSubaltern's throat was dry; but, as he ran his eye over the paper, hebroke out into a hoarse cackle of relief, and said to the woman:--"Youyoung blackguard!"

  But the woman had fled through a door, and on the paper waswritten:--"This is to certify that I, The Worm, have paid in full mydebts to the Senior Subaltern, and, further, that the Senior Subalternis my debtor, by agreement on the 23d of February, as by the Messattested, to the extent of one month's Captain's pay, in the lawfulcurrency of the India Empire."

  Then a deputation set off for The Worm's quarters and found him, betwixtand between, unlacing his stays, with the hat, wig, serge dress, etc.,on the bed. He came over as he was, and the "Shikarris" shouted till theGunners' Mess sent over to know if they might have a share of the fun. Ithink we were all, except the Colonel and the Senior Subaltern, a littledisappointed that the scandal had come to nothing. But that is humannature. There could be no two words about The Worm's acting. It leanedas near to a nasty tragedy as anything this side of a joke can. Whenmost of the Subalterns sat upon him with sofa-cushions to find outwhy he had not said that acting was his strong point, he answered veryquietly:--"I don't think you ever asked me. I used to act at Home withmy sisters." But no acting with girls could account for The Worm'sdisplay that night. Personally, I think it was in bad taste. Besidesbeing dangerous. There is no sort of use in playing with fire, even forfun.

  The "Shikarris" made him President of the Regimental Dramatic Club; and,when the Senior Subaltern paid up his debt, which he did at once, TheWorm sank the money in scenery and dresses. He was a good Worm; andthe "Shikarris" are proud of him. The only drawback is that he has beenchristened "Mrs. Senior Subaltern;" and as there are now two Mrs. SeniorSubalterns in the Station, this is sometimes confusing to strangers.

  Later on, I will tell you of a case something like, this, but with allthe jest left out and nothing in it but real trouble.