Captain Desmond, V.C.

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  YOU GO ALONE.

  "It is poor work beating butterflies with a cart-rope." --LUCAS MALET.

  On the morning of that eventful 17th of March, Evelyn and Honor leftthe bungalow directly after breakfast, bent upon such shopping asKohat could afford.

  The nearest approach to shops, in the accepted sense of the word, werethe open stalls in the native city. But there could be no question ofexploring these; and the manifold needs of Western womanhood wereinadequately met by the regimental go-downs attached to each corps inthe cantonment. These consisted of spacious buildings, shelved fromfloor to ceiling, and stocked with a fine medley of humanrequirements, ranging from bone buttons to champagne, from quinine andchlorodyne to rolls of silk for evening gowns. A new consignment from"down-country" came up every month or so; and it was quite one of theevents of life in Kohat to go the round of the go-downs as soon aspossible after the arrival of these, so as to secure the pick of themarket while the goods were fresh and the choice comparatively varied.Herein lay ample scope for those small spites and jealousies that aremore than bread and meat to women of a certain type.

  Evelyn had actually sent for gloves and shoes by this means, from acheap Calcutta firm, instead of despatching an order to Simla regallyregardless of cost. They by no means satisfied her fastidious taste;but she felt exalted to a superhuman pitch of virtue as she bore themhome in her dandy.

  "I don't believe Theo will like these shoes one bit!" she remarkedwith a satisfied laugh to Honor who rode beside her. "He will tell meto order the next ones from Simla straight away, and I shall be everso dutiful and obey him without any fuss--shan't I, you grave, wiseHonor?"

  "I should be an inhuman monster if I could keep grave and wise in yourcompany!" Honor answered, laughing back at her. "You will go on buyingexpensive shoes to the end of the chapter, if that's what you aredriving at. Why have your spirits gone up with such a run thismorning?"

  "I don't know. It's nice enough that they _are_ up. I got a lovelyletter from Theo--that's partly why, perhaps." Her eyes softened atthe remembrance of that letter. "He'll be home again in less than afortnight."

  "Yes; in less than a fortnight," Honor repeated, and wondered whereshe should go when that time arrived. She had not yet found courage toface the idea in detail.

  Evelyn kept up an unbroken ripple of hilarity till the verandah wasreached, laughing as Honor had not heard her laugh since Theo hadleft.

  "You're 'fey,' child," she said, as she helped her out of the dandy."I shall have you in floods of tears before night."

  "No, you won't; I don't feel as if anything _could_ happen to make mecry to-day. Hullo! there's Major Wyndham's horse out there."

  Honor started.

  "What can he want over here so early? Come in quick and find out."

  They hurried through the hall into the dining-room, Evelyn leading, aswift premonition of evil killing the laughter on their lips.

  Paul stood by the piano looking at Desmond's photograph; his armsfolded; his "February face" more eloquent than he knew.

  "Good-morning, Mrs Desmond," he said; and his sympathetic hand-claspsent her mercurial spirits down to zero.

  "What is it?" she asked, blanching visibly. "You have brought badnews?"

  Paul assented in silence.

  "If it is very horrible--don't tell me--I won't hear it!" She held upboth hands, as if warding off a blow. But Honor, coming quicklyforward, put both arms round her.

  "Hush, dear, hush!" she said soothingly. "That is nonsense. We _must_know what has happened, at once."

  "Let him tell _you_, then; it won't hurt you like it hurts me." Anddisengaging herself, she went over to the verandah doorway, and stoodthere, looking out into the sunshine; her back to the room; her smallhands clasped; every nerve strained to miss no word of what waspassing behind her.

  Honor turned promptly on Paul, an anguish of suspense in her eyes.

  "Is it--the worst?"

  "No--no--not that," he reassured her hastily.

  "Tell me everything, please."

  "I only know bare facts; the news came by helio. It seems there was asharp hand-to-hand engagement. The Boy and some of his men were takenby surprise. Just as Theo reached them Denvil was--killed!"

  A stifled sound broke from Evelyn.

  "And--Theo?" Honor's low voice seemed to come from very far away.

  "Theo has been badly cut about. Four wounds. The most serious is abullet wound in his face--close to the right eye. They seem afraidthat he may possibly--lose his sight."

  "It is not true--oh, it is _not_ true!" Evelyn's hands went up to herhead with a desperate cry. Then she swayed, tottered backward, andfell prone among the sofa cushions.

  "Honor--come to me--I'm frightened!" she moaned, without lifting herhead; and in an instant Honor was bending over her, murmuring bravewords of encouragement, removing her hat, and mechanically smoothingher hair.

  "Is--he still here?" Evelyn asked under her breath.

  "Yes, dear. Do you want him?"

  "No--no; send him away. I want you--only you!"

  Wyndham was already nearing the door and Honor followed him out intothe hall.

  "You see she's a little off her balance, poor child."

  "Yes, I see," he answered wearily. "And I thank God with all my heartthat _you_ are here. Will you tell Mrs Desmond that an escort isreturning to-day with Theo and--the Boy. They will reach Kohatto-morrow evening."

  Honor straightened herself suddenly.

  "I will tell her. To-morrow evening. Does Frank know too?"

  "Yes; she was in when I came. It upset her very much. Not a soul inthe regiment--officers or men--will have a minute's peace of mind tillthe result of this wound is known for certain. In all the misery ofit, one is proud to realise that."

  Something of his own grief showed in his voice for the first time, andHonor's heart contracted with too keen a sympathy.

  "Ah, Paul! you speak of it so calmly--as if you were just one with therest. But I, at least, can guess what the pain and suspense must befor you."

  His face softened at the tender inflection of her voice.

  "No," he said, "even you cannot guess that. Now go back to his wife.If I can be of any use at all send for me. I shall not come roundotherwise till I bring him here to-morrow evening. I mean to ride outwith a small escort and meet them on the way."

  Honor found Evelyn rigid and tearless among her cushions. The strangemingling of coldness and terror in her eyes startled the girl. Shehurried to the sofa and knelt down at her side.

  "Don't look like that, Evelyn," she said. "It's horrible! Only think,Theo will be here to-morrow evening. Paul told me so just now."

  "To-morrow--to-morrow? He will be here, in this house--to-morrow?" Sherepeated the word with stunned iteration, and there was no feeling inher tone, only an uncanny fear, that chilled the blood in Honor'sveins.

  "I never thought--it would be so soon. How can we manage about gettingaway?"

  "Getting away--where--in Heaven's name?" Honor rose abruptly. Shebegan to feel as though she were moving in a nightmare.

  "Oh, anywhere, away from here. I can't--I won't see him, when he is'badly cut about' and--half blind. I thought--if you would take me toMurree--Mrs Olliver would be quite glad to look after him. And when heis better, he could come up too. But if--if he is really going tobe--blind----"

  She closed her eyes and shuddered. No flicker of pity stirred inHonor's heart. It needed all her force of will to control her temper,even for a few minutes longer. But a grim curiosity urged her todiscover how far it was possible to travel along such incredible linesof thought and feeling.

  "Well, what then?" she demanded coldly.

  "Then--I know I could--never come back to him--never!" Theo's wifeanswered slowly, without raising her eyes, or the look in Honor's facewould surely have frozen the words on her lips. "To feel that he wasalways in the dark would frighten me out of my life. And he wouldn
ever be left alone, I know. There are so many--others."

  But Honor could bear no more. Bending down, she caught hold ofEvelyn's shoulders and fairly shook her, as though she would shake herback to life and human feeling. Her blue eyes blazed with indignation.

  "How _dare_ you talk like that!" she said in a low note ofconcentrated wrath. "How dare you think such despicable thoughts! Ofcourse there are others who would give their lives to save him from aminute's pain; and you would let them take your place,--yours? And youcan actually expect that _I_--of all people--will back you up in yourdesertion of him? No indeed! If you go, you go alone; and I shallnever have a word to say to you again. I may be speaking hotly,because I am furiously angry. But I mean every word I say; and myactions will prove it. What's more, _I will not let you go_. You_shall_ stand by him, however frightened you may be. You talkof--loving him, and you would treat him as I should be ashamed totreat a dog! Evelyn! Evelyn!"--her voice broke suddenly, and tearsstarted to her eyes,--"tell me you did not mean what you said; or Idon't know how I am to go on helping you at all!"

  There was more of command than of entreaty in the last words, andEvelyn looked up at the transfigured beauty of her face with a slowshivering sigh.

  "You are very wonderful, and very--terrible, Honor," she said. "Inever imagined you could be as terrible as that." Then her lipsquivered, and she caught at the girl's skirt, drawing her nearer. "You_must_ go on helping me, or everything will go to pieces."

  "So long as you remain a loyal wife to--Theo, I cannot choose but doso, with all my heart."

  She knelt down again now; and Evelyn, flinging both arms round herneck, broke into a passion of weeping.

  "I think I was half mad," she moaned through her tears, clinging toHonor as a drowning woman clings to a spar. "And I am dreadfullyfrightened still. But I will do whatever you tell me. I will try to bea loyal wife, even if----"

  "We won't think of that at all," Honor interposed hastily. "Itcannot--it shall not happen!"

  But Evelyn's tears flowed on unchecked. The fire of Honor's just angerhad melted the morsel of ice in her heart; and in a very short timeshe had cried herself to sleep.

  Then Honor gently unlocked the clinging fingers, and went straight toFrank Olliver's room.