CHAPTER XXVI.
STAND TO YOUR GUNS.
"It is so that a woman loves who is worthy of heroes." --R. L. S.
Wyndham, returning to the bungalow soon after ten o'clock, found itreadjusted to its new conditions. Frank Olliver had returned to herempty home; and Desmond, at his own request, had had his camp-bed madeup in the study, that he might in no way disturb his wife. She herselfhad retired early, without going in to him again. Honor noted andwondered at the omission; but since Evelyn had said nothing about hershort interview with Theo, she forbore to question her or press herunduly at the start.
When Paul arrived Desmond was sound asleep, wearied out with pain ofbody and mind; while Honor moved noiselessly to and fro, setting inreadiness all that might be wanted before morning. Paul came armedwith Mackay's permission to remain on duty for the night, taking whatlittle rest he required on the drawing-room sofa, and Honor could notwithhold a smile at his satisfaction.
"I believe you're jealous!" she said. "You want to oust me, and havehim all to yourself!"
"You are right," he answered frankly; and going over to the bed, stoodlooking upon his friend in an unspeakable content, that even anxietywas powerless to annul.
For all that, it was late before Honor managed to leave her patient,and slip away into the bare room where Harry Denvil lay awaiting thedawn.
Save for the long scar across his face, no suggestion of that lastdesperate fight was visible; and in the presence of the Great Silence,her own turmoil of heart and brain was stilled as at the touch of areassuring hand. She knelt a long while beside the Boy. It pleased herto believe that he was in some way aware of her companionship; thatperhaps he was even glad of it--glad that she should feel no lightestshrinking from the temple that had enshrined the brave jewel of hissoul.
Arrived in her own room, she found Parbutti huddled on the ground, ina state of damp and voluble distress. She could not bring herself todismiss the old woman at once; though her heart cried out forsolitude, and weariness seemed suddenly to dissolve her very bones.She saw now that her love had deepened and strengthened duringDesmond's absence, as great love is apt to do; and the shock of hisreturn, coupled with the scant possibility of her own escape, hadtried her fortitude more severely than she knew.
She submitted in silence to the exchanging of her tea-gown for a whitewrapper, and to the loosening of her hair, Parbutti crooning over herceaselessly the while.
"Now I will soothe your Honour's head till weariness be forgotten, Omy Miss Sahib, daughter of my heart! Sleep without dreams, my life;and have no fear for the Captain Sahib, who is surely favoured of thegods by reason of his great courage."
While her tongue ran on, the wrinkled hands moved skilfully over thegirl's head and neck, fingering each separate nerve, and stilling thethrobbing pulses by that mystery of touch, which we of the West arejust beginning to acquire, but which is a common heritage in the East.
"Go now, Parbutti," Honor commanded at length. "Thy fingers bemiracle-workers. It is enough."
And as Parbutti departed, praising the gods, Honor leaned her chinupon her hands, and frankly confronted the decision that must bearrived at before morning.
To her inner consciousness it seemed wrong and impossible to fulfilher promise and remain; while to all outward appearance it seemedequally wrong and impossible to go. She could not see clearly. Shecould only feel intensely; and her paramount feeling at the momentwas that God asked of her more than human nature could achieve.
The man's weakness and dependence awakened in her the strongest, thedivinest element of a woman's love, and with it the longing to upholdand help him to the utmost limit of her power. It was this intensityof longing which convinced her that, at all costs, she must go. Yet atthe first thought of Evelyn her invincible arguments fell back like adefeated battalion.
If she had sought the Frontier in the hope of coming into touch withlife's stern realities, her hope had been terribly fulfilled.
"Dear God, what _ought_ I to do?" she murmured on a note of passionateappeal. But no answer came out of the stillness; and sheer human needwas too strong upon her for prayer.
Rising impulsively, she went over to the wide-flung door that led intothe back verandah, and rolled up the "chick," flooding the room withlight; for a full moon rode high in the heavens, eclipsing the fire ofthe stars. She stepped out into the verandah, and passed to the farend, that looked across a strip of rocky desolation to the hills.
The whole world slept in silver, its radiance intensified by patchesof blue-black shadow; and with sudden distinctness her night journeyof a year ago came back to her mind. What an immeasurable way she hadtravelled since then! And how far removed was the buoyant-hearted girlof that March morning from the woman who rebelled with all her soulagainst the cup of bitterness, even while she drank it to the dregs!
Deliberately she tried to gather into herself something of the night'scolossal calm, to wrest from the starved scrub of the desert a portionof its patience, its astounding perseverance; to stifle her cravingfor clear unprejudiced human counsel.
By a natural impulse her thought turned to Mrs Conolly, who alonepossessed both will and power to satisfy her need. To speak of her owntrouble was a thing outside the pale of possibility. Death itself werepreferable. But to consult her friend as to what would really be bestfor Evelyn was quite another matter. She would go and see Mrs Conollybefore breakfast and be ruled by her unfailing wisdom.
Having arrived at one practical decision, her mind grew calmer. Shewent back to her room, lowered the "chick" and knelt for a long whilebeside her bed--a white, gracious figure, half-veiled by a duskycurtain of hair.
Habit woke her before seven; and she dressed briskly, heartened by asense of something definite to be done. A sound of many feet andhushed voices told her that Wyndham and the Pioneer officers hadarrived. Chaplains were rare on the Border in those days; and Wyndhamwas to read the service, as he did on most occasions, Sundaysincluded.
When Honor came out into the hall she found the chick rolled up andthe verandah a blaze of full-dress uniforms. No man plays out his lastact with more of pomp and circumstance than a soldier; and there is asingular fitness in this emphasis on the dignity rather than thetragedy of death.
The girl remained standing afar off, watching the scene, whosebrilliance was heightened by an untempered April sun.
A group of officers, moving aside, revealed two scarlet rows ofPioneers; and beyond them Paul's squadron, striking a deeper note ofblue and gold. The band was drawn up ready to start. Slanting raysflashed cheerfully from the brass of trumpets, cornets, bassoons; fromthe silver fittings of flutes; from the gold on scarlet tunics. And inthe midst of this ordered brilliance stood the gun-carriage, grey andaustere, its human burden hidden under the folds of the English flag.Behind the gun-carriage the Boy's charger waited, with an air ofuncomplaining weariness, the boots hanging reversed over the emptysaddle.
With an aching lump in her throat Honor turned away. At that momentthe shuddering vibrations of muffled drums ushered in the "Dead March"and each note fell on her heart like a blow.
In passing the study door she paused irresolute, battling with thatrefractory heart of hers, which refused to sit quiet in its chains. Itargued now that, after all, she was his nurse; she had every right togo in and see that all was well with him. But conscience and thehammering of her pulses warned her that the greater right was--torefrain; and straightening herself briskly, she went out through theback verandah to Mrs Conolly's bungalow.
She had not been gone twenty minutes when Evelyn crept into the study,so softly that her husband was not aware of her presence till herfingers rested upon his hand.
He started, and took hold of them.
"That you?" he said gently. "Good-morning."
There was no life in his tone; and its apathy--so incredible a qualityin him--gave her courage.
"Theo," she whispered, kneeling down by him, "is it any good tr
ying tospeak to you now? Will you believe that--I am ever so sorry? I havebeen miserable all night; and I am not frightened any more,--see!" Intoken of sincerity she caressed his empty coat-sleeve. "Will youplease--forgive me? Will you?"
"With all my heart, Ladybird," he answered quietly. "But it's no usespeaking. A thing like that can't be explained away. It is simplywiped off the slate--you understand?" And almost before the words wereout she had kissed him.
Then she slid down into a sitting position, one arm flung lightlyacross the rug that covered him.
In that instant the thunder of three successive volleys shook thehouse; and heart-stirring trumpet-notes sounded the Last Post. With asmall shudder Evelyn shrank closer to her husband, resting her headagainst his chair; and Desmond lay watching her in silent wondermentat the tangle of moods and graces which, for lack of a truer word,must needs be called her character. He wondered also how much mighthave been averted if she had come to him thus yesterday instead ofto-day. Impossible to guess. He could only wrench his thoughts awayfrom the forbidden subject; and try to beat down the strong newyearning that possessed him, by occasionally stroking his wife's hair.
It is when we most crave for bread that life has this ironical trickof presenting us with a stone.
* * * * *
Honor, in the meanwhile, had reached Mrs Conolly's bungalow. Shefound her in the drawing-room arranging flower-vases, and equipped forher morning ride.
"Honor? You? How delightful!" Then catching a clearer view of thegirl's face: "My dear--what is it?"
Honor smiled.
"I am afraid you were going out," she said, evading the question.
"Certainly I was; but I am not going now. It is evident that you wantme."
"Yes--I want you."
Mrs Jim called out an order to the waiting _sais_; and followed Honor,who had gone over to the mantelpiece, and buried her face in the coolfragrance of a cluster of Gloire de Dijons.
Mrs Conolly took her gently by the arm.
"I can't have you looking like that, my child," she said. "Your eyesare like saucers, with indigo shadows under them. Did you sleep a winklast night?"
"Not many winks; that's why I am here."
"I see. You must be cruelly anxious about Captain Desmond, as we allare; but I _will not_ believe that the worst can happen."
"No--oh no!" Honor spoke as if she were beating off an enemy. "But thetrouble that kept me awake was--Evelyn."
"Ah! Is the strain going to be too much for her? Come to the sofa,dear, and tell me the whole difficulty."
Honor hesitated. She had her own reasons for wishing to avoid MrsConolly's too sympathetic scrutiny.
"You sit down," she said. "I feel too restless. I would rather speakfirst." And with a hint of inward perplexity Mrs Conolly obeyed.
"It's like this," Honor began, resting an arm on the mantelpiece andnot looking directly at her friend, "Dr Mackay has asked me to takeentire charge of Theo for the present. He spoke rather strongly,--rathercruelly, about not leaving him in Evelyn's hands. I think he wanted toforce my consent; and for the moment I could not refuse. But this isEvelyn's first big chance of rising above herself; and if I step inand do everything I take it right out of her hands. This seems to meso unfair that I have been seriously wondering whether I ought notto--go right away till the worst is over." And she reiterated thearguments she had already put before Theo, as much in the hope ofconvincing herself as her friend.
Mrs Conolly, watching her with an increasing thoughtfulness, divinedsome deeper complication beneath her unusual insistence on the wrongpoint of view; and awaited the sure revelation that would come when itwould come.
"You see, don't you," Honor concluded, in a beseeching tone, "that itis not easy to make out what is really best, what is right to be done?And Evelyn's uncertainty makes things still more difficult. One momentI feel almost sure she would 'find herself' if I were not always ather elbow; and the next I feel as if it would be criminal to leave herunsupported for five minutes at a time like this."
"That last comes nearer the truth than anything you have said yet,"was Mrs Jim's unhesitating verdict. "Frankly, Honor, I agree with DrMackay; and I must really plead with you to leave off splitting strawsabout your 'Evelyn,' and to think of Captain Desmond--and CaptainDesmond only. Surely you care more for him, and for what comes to him,than your line of argument seems to imply?"
Honor drew herself up as if she had been struck. The appeal was sounlooked for, the implication so unendurable, that for an instant shelost her balance. A slow colour crept into her cheeks, a colour drawnfrom the deepest wells of feeling; and while she stood blanklywondering how she might best remedy her mistake, Mrs Conolly's voiceagain came to her ears.
"Indeed, my child, you spoke truth just now," she said slowly, a freshsignificance in her tone. "It must be _very_ hard for you to make outwhat is right."
Honor threw up her head with a gesture of defiance.
"Why should you suddenly say that?" she demanded, almost angrily. Butthe instant her eyes met those of her friend the unnameable truthflashed between them clear as speech and with a stifled sound Honorhid her face in her hands.
Followed a tense silence; then Mrs Conolly came to her and put an armround her. But the girl stiffened under the touch of sympathyimplying mutual knowledge of that which belonged only to herself andGod.
"How could I dream that you would guess?" she murmured, withoutuncovering her face--"that you would even imagine such a thing to bepossible?"
"My dearest," the other answered gently, "I am old enough to knowthat, where the human heart is concerned, all things are possible."
"But I can't endure that you should know; that you should--think illof me."
"You know me very little, Honor, if you can dream of that for amoment. Come and sit down. No need to hold aloof from me now."
Honor submitted to be led to the sofa, and drawn down close beside herfriend. The whole thing seemed to have become an incredible nightmare.
"Listen to me, my child," Mrs Conolly began, the inexpressible note ofmother-love sounding in her voice. "I want you to realise, once forall, how I regard this matter. I think you know how much I have lovedand admired you, and I do so now--more than ever. An overwhelmingtrouble has come upon you, by no will of your own; and you areevidently going to meet it with a high-minded courage altogetherworthy of your father's daughter."
Honor shivered.
"Don't speak of father," she entreated. "Only--now that youunderstand, tell me--tell me--what _must_ I do?"
The passionate appeal coming from this girl--apt rather to err in thedirection of independence--stirred Mrs Jim's big heart to its depths.
"You will abide by my decision?" she asked.
"Yes; I am ready to do anything for--either of them."
"Bravely spoken, my dear. In that case I can only say, 'Stand to yourguns.' You have promised to take over charge of Captain Desmond, and asoldier's daughter should not dream of deserting her post. Mind you, Iwould not give such advice to ninety-nine girls out of a hundred inyour position. The risk would be too serious; and I only dare give itto you because I am _sure_ of you, Honor. I quite realise why you feelyou ought to go. But your own feelings must simply be ignored. Yourone hope lies in starving them to death, if possible. Give Evelyn herchance by all means, but I can't allow you to desert Captain Desmondon her account. You must be at hand to protect him, and uphold her, incase of failure. In plain English, you must consent to be a mereprop--putting yourself in the background and leaving her to reap thereward. It is the eternal sacrifice of the strong for the weak. Youare one of the strong; and in your case there is no shirking thepenalty without an imputation that could never be coupled with thename of Meredith."
Honor looked up at that with a characteristic tilt of her chin, andMrs Conolly's face softened to a smile.
"Am I counselling cruelly hard things, dear?" she asked tenderly.
"No, indeed. If you were soft and sympathetic, I
should go away atonce. You have shown me quite clearly what is required of me. It willnot be--easy. But one can do no less than go through with it--insilence."
Mrs Conolly sat looking at the girl for a few seconds. Then:
"My dear, I am very proud of you," she said with quiet sincerity. "Ican see that you have drawn freely on a Strength beyond your own. Justtake victory for granted; and do your simple human duty to a sick manwho is in great need of you, and whose fortune or misfortune is amatter of real concern to many others besides those near and dear tohim. I know I am not exaggerating when I say that if any serious harmcame to Captain Desmond it would be a calamity felt not only by hisregiment, but by more than half the Frontier Force. He has the 'geniusto be loved,' that is perhaps the highest form of genius----"
"I know--I know. Don't talk about him, please."
"Ah! but that is part of your hard programme, Honor. You must learn totalk of him, and to let others talk of him. Only you must banish himaltogether _out of your own thoughts_. You see the difference?"
"Yes; I see the difference."
"The essence of danger lies there, and too few people recognise it. Ibelieve that half the emotional catastrophes of life might be tracedback to want of self-control in the region of thought. The world'sreal conquerors are those who 'hold in quietness their land of thespirit'; and you have the power to be one of them if you choose."
"I do choose," Honor answered in a low level voice, looking straightbefore her.
"Then the thing is as good as done." She rose on the words, and drewHonor to her feet. "There; I think I have said hard things enough forone day."
Honor looked very straightly into the elder woman's strong plain face.
"I know you don't expect me to thank you," she said; "we understandeach other too well for that. And we will never speak of this again,please. It is dead and buried from to-day."
"Of course. That is why I have spoken rather fully this morning. Butbe sure you will be constantly in my thoughts, and--in my prayers."
Then she took possession of the girl, holding her closely for a longwhile; and when they moved apart tears stood in her eyes, though shewas a woman little given to that luxury.
"This has been a great blow to me, dear," she said. "I had such highhopes for you. I had even thought of Major Wyndham."
Honor smiled wearily.
"It was perverse of me. I suppose it ought to have been--Paul."
"I wish it had been, with all my heart; and I confess I am puzzledabout you two. How has he come to be 'Paul' within this lastfortnight?"
"It is simply that we have made a compact. He knows now that he cannever be anything more than--Paul--the truest friend a woman everhad."
"Poor fellow! So there are two of you wasted!"
"Is any real love ever wasted?" Honor asked so simply that Mrs Conollykissed her again.
"My child, you put me to shame. It is clearly I who must learn fromyou. Now, go home; and God be with you as He very surely will."
Then with her head uplifted and her spirit braced to unflinchingendurance, Honor Meredith went out into the blue and gold of themorning.