*CHAPTER XI*
Laden with trophies, bright-faced and triumphant, the column started onits way back to civilisation, and in ten days' time, to the strains ofthe local band, sent forward to meet it, was marching proudly throughthe poplar-lined street of Gethsemane. This town is inhabited mostly byColonial Dutch, whose loyalty or the reverse rose or fell according asthe fortunes of war inclined to one or the other contending party.
The death of Van der Tann and capture of his commando having broughtabout a fall in Dutch stock, they were now loyal British subjects, andconsequently from every hotel, private dwelling-place, and shop the gaybunting streamed. Functionaries, in civic robes, came forward to greettheir preservers with hands outstretched in welcome, as they bade thementer and feast themselves on the good things made ready in theirhonour.
Nor were the prisoners forgotten, a forbidding wire-enclosed zeribahaving been prepared in their honour, and here, the whole town turningout to watch the operation, they were speedily deposited, and left tillsuch time as the authorities saw fit to arrange for their removal toCape Town.
A time of relaxation ensued, the officers revelling in late hours, cleanshirts, and the social delights of tennis, croquet party, and dance; themen in unlimited beer, tobacco, and well-nigh nightly "sing-songs."
Colonel Bradford made speeches, roared lion-like at socialentertainments, and spoke of the British flag, and the well-knownloyalty of Gethsemane inhabitants, sentiments greeted with loud andunanimous applause by his hearers.
On all faces were smiles, in all hearts joy, save in the case of HectorGraeme, who was, as usual, in antagonism with his fellows. "Confoundit, man," said Bradford to him one morning, Hector having been more thanusually unresponsive to his Chief's good-humour, "what an ungraciousfellow you are, one would think, by Gad, you were sorry instead of gladat our recent success, why, last night at dinner you were infernallyrude to the Mayor. I tell you I don't like it, Graeme, and, what'smore, I won't have it," and Bradford stalked away in dudgeon, anotherblack mark registered in his mind against his unsatisfactory A.D.C.
Had it not been for Major Godwin, events would long before this havecome to a head between the two, for, since the capture of the commando,Hector had once more relapsed into his former irritating ways ofslackness and inattention; and had, moreover, recently added anotherfault to the list, that of almost continual absence, passing his days,to the neglect of his Chief, in long solitary rides about thesurrounding country.
This in itself was not distasteful to the Colonel, rather was it arelief, for his former feelings of annoyance at Hector's ignorance andcasualness had of late become replaced by another--that of dislike, evenhatred, for his subordinate. He felt that peculiarly bitter hatred wefeel for those to whom, in a moment of expansion, we have revealed somejealously-hidden weakness, and who have responded to the revelation by acounter-display of strength, comforting possibly at the time, butbecoming an intolerable and rankling memory once that hour is passed andsecurity attained. To all save Hector--and perhaps one other--Bradfordwas a hero, one who had accomplished the hitherto impossible, and dailythe longing grew, not so much to get rid of this one witness of his hourof humiliation--for that, for reasons of his own, he shrank fromdoing--as to crush him, stamp on him, and load him with obloquy. This hedid to the full extent of his power, depriving Graeme of the smallestshow of independence, ruthlessly snubbing him, and countermanding evensuch orders as in his position he was entitled to give, fearful lestthey should be construed by those outside into his management by asubordinate, and that this suspicion would finally culminate in thebelief that it was not he, but Hector, who had in reality brought aboutthe recent capture.
If Bradford, on his part, cherished these feelings towards his aide,Hector was even more bitter against his Chief, the main reason for thisbeing the Colonel's refusal to acknowledge or even allude to theservices rendered to him by Hector on that momentous occasion. "Damnit," he muttered, watching the hero's gracious acceptation ofcongratulations on one occasion, "it was I, not you, who caught thebeggar; but for me, you would have slunk back with your tail betweenyour legs, and instead of addresses and flags, it's hooting would havemet you from this same loyal town of Gethsemane. Lord," yawning andturning away, "how infernal slow that honours' list is in appearing, sixweeks, at least, since the names went in. I wonder what they'll do forme? Brevet, I suppose, and probably a D.S.O. as well; can't very welldo less, they might give me a column too, and then, Bradford, you ass,you can run your own show, and we'll see what sort of success you'llhave. Gad, what a show-up it will be for the impostor, doing all rightwhen I'm there, but coming to grief once I'm gone," and Hector,comforted at the thought, called for his horse and rode away into themountains.
At last the long looked-for honours' list arrived, in which Bradford'sname appeared as a Major-General and C.B., and Godwin's asLieut.-Colonel and C.M.G. Many others were rewarded with Brevets andD.S.O.'s--amongst the latter being Rufford, of the Veldt Rifles. OfHector Graeme, however, there was no mention, peruse and reperuse thelist as he might; and, incredulity at last giving way to certainty, hisface grew suddenly livid, and a look came into his eyes, which causedGodwin, who, with Bradford, was in the room, to spring up, and, seizingHector by the arm, lead him outside, before the words trembling on hislips were uttered. "I know, I know," he said hastily, "but don't be afool, Graeme; there's time enough yet. Go for a ride; curse the veldtif you like, but not the..." Hector, obeying him, went, and ridingfiercely away into the mountain flung himself down on the ground, wherehe lay, a prey to one of those secret wild fits of passion, the first hehad given way to for four years--in his room at Fort Hussein.
Limp and white-faced, he returned to his quarters, to find Godwinawaiting him; and a long conversation followed, the first of many, forthe long-nosed man had taken a liking to Graeme, one of thoseoccasionally awakened--which are almost invariably strong andlasting--by the universally unpopular. This liking, however, was in noway returned by its object, who considered the other a bore, the more soas he was continually harping upon one subject, that of the necessity ofmilitary reading to a soldier, a pursuit for which Hector had no liking,especially for the class of literature recommended by Godwin.
"Two things are necessary to make a leader," his self-appointedcounsellor would urge, his pale-green eyes lighting up with enthusiasmas he spoke, "one the natural qualities of character, which cannot beacquired; the other, knowledge of one's profession, which can, by books.The qualities--I may be wrong, of course--I think you have; you'recertainly aggressive, the great thing; but the knowledge you have not;indeed, you're one of the most ignorant officers it has ever been myfortune to meet. And you may be the strongest man in the world,Graeme," he concluded, "but, if you can't box, the fellow, with halfyour strength, who can will knock you out in the first round."
"Not necessarily," was the answer, "the cleverest professors with thegloves are often useless in the ring. Their hearts are wrong, theydon't mean smashing their men, and never lead, only wait to be knockedout. And it's just the same, I imagine, in war. Take this last show,for instance; you know as well as I do, Godwin, that----"
"That but for the--information you brought in that night," interruptedthe latter hastily, "Van der Tann would probably still be at large.That, of course, is a matter, Graeme, I must decline to discuss, and ifyou take my earnest advice you'll forget the episode as quickly as youcan. Believe me, you'll ruin your career if you don't. But what yousay, about the finest boxer being useless in the ring, proves nothingbeyond the fact that character is the most essential of the two things Ispoke of. Make the two boxers equal, or, as that's impossible, makethem nearly equal in that respect, and the victory goes to the one withmost science. Take Bluecher, for instance, as strong a character asthere has ever been, but, because he was ignorant, he lost army afterarmy till Gneisenau took him in hand, and, acting as his brain, told himwhat to do. He, a general, Graeme, had to rely on another man'sknowledge; he
admitted it himself when he said, 'Ah, Gneisenau, what ageneral I should have been had I only read!'"
"I'd read fast enough, Godwin," said Graeme, "if I'd got any incentiveto do so. It's recognition I want; give me a start, I'll do the rest."
"Bah!" replied the other, "some men go without recognition all theirlives, and still struggle on. And it may come yet, who knows? Beprepared for it when it does, that's my point; don't handicap yourselfwith ignorance. Now, I've got nothing to do for an hour, and if youlike I'll----"
"Oh, thank you very much, Godwin; it's awfully good of you, but I'mafraid I can't stay now. There's my pony waiting outside, another timeI shall be delighted," and here the conversation, as such conversationsinvariably did, ended in nothing.
Then a fresh disaster befell Hector, his one friend being called home totake up an appointment at the War Office, and with his departure therapid decline of Graeme's fortunes began. With no mediator to intervenebetween them, Bradford's treatment of his A.D.C. became daily harsher,till at length his animosity began to be remarked on, and to give riseto the very comment he was so morbidly anxious to avoid; the juniorswondered how Hector could put up with his Chief's bullying; the seniors,why the General persisted in retaining on his staff an officer who, byhis own showing, was so altogether incompetent and objectionable.
Bradford, accordingly, found himself in a quandary, for were he todismiss Hector now, he might find his way to the staff of some othercolumn leader, who--jealous as were most at that time of theirkind--would be only too ready to listen to a tale belittling Bradford'srecent achievements; while, on the other hand, did he keep Hector wherehe was, the suspicion would certainly arise that he had his reasons fordoing so, those reasons being that his A.D.C. knew too much to beallowed to leave.
His whole frame of mind was an instance of the curious childishness thatsaps the intelligence of men, often deemed the strongest, who, whilelistening to the admiration expressed by the public for some edificeconstructed by their hands, are all the time conscious of a flaw in itsfoundations, which at any minute may cause the building, and with it itsarchitect's reputation, to crumble before their eyes. None of thespectators know of the flaw--probably never will know--but the architectdoes, and the alarming, though quite natural, cracking of the newedifice is to his mind the voice of the flaw, shouting its existence toall present. He hears it, they must too; and the slightest word--acareless suggestion uttered without reason or meaning--tells him thatall is discovered, and he will be proclaimed an impostor.
Thus it was with Bradford. The most casual observation anent Hector andhis doings on the fateful night would throw him into a fever of anxiety,the culminating point being reached on the occasion of a visit from theCommander-in-Chief to Gethsemane, when, in the course of conversation,he remarked that his host's A.D.C. certainly cultivated a somewhatremarkable style of dress, but to which, from what he had heard, otherstaff officers, notably Gneisenau, were similarly addicted. It was anunfortunate remark, and on hearing it Bradford grew hot with agitation.Gneisenau? He, then, was Bluecher, and the Commander-in-Chief kneweverything. Someone must have talked; someone in the column--probablyGraeme himself. At the last thought a fury of hatred seized him, and,his distinguished guest having departed, he summoned Hector to his room,where he accused him point-blank of gossiping about him, his Chief.Graeme denied it. Bradford called him a liar, upon which Hector'spent-up rage broke loose, and he told Bradford what he thought of him.
With horrid accuracy he dissected his General's mind before his eyes,holding up the pieces for him to see, and concluded with a directaccusation of jealousy of one to whom alone he owed his recent honoursand reputation.
"Yes," he said finally, "I lied that night, I own it, I did it to saveyou, and it did. It was the only way to get you on; you were all forgoing back, but I made up my mind you should not. Now you have it." Hestopped, panting.
"Your ... quarters ... sir ... consider yourself..."
"Only too glad, and I'll tell the court-martial the whole story,"answered Hector, going.
"Come back."
"Ah!"
"I said, 'consider yourself dismissed.' Don't come near me again, d'yehear?"
"Where am I to go?"
"I'll arrange that, go." Hector went, leaving Bradford white andshaken, as he saw in his mind's eye his late A.D.C. hurrying from Messto Mess, and stripping, as he went, all his new-born reputation fromhim. Like most mental visions, it was altogether baseless, for,whatever other faults Hector possessed, pettiness was not among thenumber, and despite his threat to reveal all at the court-martial, hewould, nevertheless, had such taken place, kept scornfully silent on thesubject.
Bradford, however, had little or no understanding of human nature orcharacter, and consequently sat where he was for hours, fearing to goout lest he should read in men's faces the knowledge of his own undoing.At last, wearily rising, he moved across to the writing-table, and,sitting down, proceeded to indite a letter to Headquarters, in which hestated that, for purely personal reasons, he was desirous of changinghis A.D.C., and asked that his present one might be transferred to apost elsewhere.
He suggested the Transport, an unpleasant smile on his face as he wrote,and having finished the letter sealed it, and summoned the orderly,whose face he watched narrowly as he handed him the document. Withsinking heart, he noted a cloud on the man's face, the consequence, itmay be observed, of a misunderstanding with Martha, the Mayor'sparlour-maid.
The result of the letter was Hector's appointment as transport officerto a small column working in the Transvaal, and to that place hedeparted, after a short leave-taking with his late Chief, who wished himgood luck in his new venture, and regretted that the arrival of a nephewfrom England necessitated Hector's removal. He also regretted anydifferences they might have had, and--and he hoped that--that ...
"I am not a gossip," answered Graeme coldly, "though you were goodenough to accuse me of it once, nor am I small," and, ignoring theoutstretched hand, he turned his back on his well-wisher.
Mounting the Cape cart, he drove off, and a few hours afterwards was inthe train jolting on his way north. In the novel _role_ of transportofficer, however, he proved himself even more unsatisfactory than inthat of A.D.C.; indeed, thanks to him, the column he served well-nighstarved, and this fact, in the form of a peculiarly damaging report fromits leader, having been brought to the notice of the authorities, Hectorwas relieved of his duties, and relegated to a stool in a commissariatoffice.
With the decline of his fortunes, his ineptitude seemed to increase. Afurther and even more damaging report having been received, Hector againstarted on his travels, and this time for the last and lowest stage ofall--a blockhouse on the lines of communication. The months passed, theWar slowly dragged to its close, but no further notice from authoritydid Graeme receive; and with the flitting of the days his sense ofgrievance and injustice increased, till his whole mind was consumed withbitterness and hatred of his kind.
At times he even meditated, should the chance occur, the throwing in ofhis lot with the enemy, and taking what revenge he could on hispersecutors; but, fortunately for him, the chance did not occur--noenemy showing themselves within a hundred miles of his dreary abode.Day after day he sat staring moodily out on the bare brown hills andmonotonous stretch of scrub-clad veldt, praying for the enemy to appear;but in vain, and at last this hope died. Another scheme took its placein his mind, that of leaving the army, once the War was over, andjoining that of some other nation, his eventual aim being the leading ofthat army against his own country-men.
It would be a delight, indeed, he thought, to show to those who nowignored him what manner of man it was they had dared so to treat. Howhe would crush them, gloat over them, remind them of the despisedtransport officer and commissariat clerk; and perhaps, if fortune werekind, Bradford might be in command against him, Bradford brought in aprisoner before him. He wouldn't hurt the creature, oh no, he would berather nice to him, and let him go, asking as a
favour that he shouldcontinue to lead the opposing forces, so as to make his task the easier.
How mad they would all be, traitor they would call him, and so he wouldbe, and glory in it and their hatred. Even Lucy would turn from him;no, she wouldn't, though. Lucy would be heartbroken, but never turn; andafter all she would have had her wish, for she wanted him to retire. Shewas as bitter as he about the injustice he had received. He took fromhis pocket her last letter, and read it again, and as he did so his faceassumed the puzzled expression it always wore on the perusal of herletters. "Again no mention of the child," he muttered; "nothing but thepostscript, 'Ruby, poor mite, is well enough.' Well, it's mail-dayto-day, perhaps she will say more. There is the mail too," watching asmall cloud of dust rapidly approaching along the sandy track. "Here,you," to the orderly, who had now reached the blockhouse, and washanding a bundle of papers and letters to the Sergeant, "bring mine outhere. Hum! three; one I don't know, one from Lucy, and a London paper,addressed to me in her handwriting. I wonder what for, home news doesnot interest me at all."
Faintly curious, he stripped off the wrapper, and, unfolding thenewspaper, ran his eye over the pages, till at length he found themarked paragraph he expected. For a moment he stood staring; then hisface grew suddenly scarlet, and a shout of jubilation burst forth fromhis lips. Sergeant Newcome and the men, running out to ascertain thecause, beheld their erstwhile apathetic officer throw his helmet intothe air, rush at it as it reached the ground, and dance upon theheadpiece till it lay a mangled mass of khaki and cardboard. "Orderly,"he shouted to the retreating figure of the postman, "come here, takethis fiver, and order up beer from the commissariat, gallons of it;we'll make a night of it, Newcome, my friend, or rather you and the menshall, while I do sentry go."
"Sir?" said the astonished Sergeant, while the men stared vacantly atthe transformed figure before them.
"Read that," shouted Hector, handing him the paper; "not there, youfool, oh, give it to me then, and listen." He read:
"'To be Brevet Lieut. Colonel.
"'Hector Archibald Graeme, Major'"--Hector's majority was but two monthsold--"'1st Lancers.'"
"A bloody Colonel, d'ye hear that, Newcome? Now go. I'm off to thatkopje, and if you come near me I'll brain you!"
Hector, the paper in his hand, hurried away, and, reaching the kopje,flung himself down, his heart singing and pulses leaping withexultation. Gone, dispelled in one brief moment were the rancour andbitterness of the last twelve months; and in their place, though butephemeral, was a feeling of kindliness towards those very militaryauthorities, schemes for whose downfall had so recently been occupyinghis mind. They had made amends, tardy, it was true, but neverthelessthey had made them; they had recognised his merit at last, and that inno unsubstantial way.
Colonel Graeme--he a Colonel, snap his fingers now he could and would atall, Peter Carson amongst the number, Peter, who had always been sodamned superior over his seniority to him, and yes, by the Lord, hewould be senior to Royle, now a fortnight old Colonel. No, he wouldn'tthough; Royle's promotion had been antedated, which brought him on topby a few months. "Swindle, that antedating is," he muttered, a cloudcoming over the shining sky of his happiness; "takes half the pleasureaway. They might have given me a D.S.O. too while they were about it;three ribbons is a beggarly show for a Colonel, must have five or six atleast. I ought to have five too, if I'd had my rights: the V.C. forthat Mortlock business; the Jubilee, which would have gone with it; thefrontier and the two they are certain to give over this. Never mind,I'll soon add to my three. I'll volunteer for every blessed show; theywon't refuse me; they daren't now I'm known.
"Lucy ought to be pleased too; it's a lift for her as well, and, oho,won't her old uncle, the General, be furious? Thought me a waster, didhe? Well, it will show her that what I always said, and she refused tobelieve, was right, that he's a prejudiced old fool. Hang it, I thinkI'm more pleased at scoring off him than anything else. By the way, myother letters, I'd forgotten them, let's see what Lucy says first.
"Hum, hum, 'So glad, so very pleased. I always knew it would come intime, and how much nicer to retire as a Colonel.' What, _I_ retire, andsettle down like a cabbage in a field, now that I've just begun? No,Lucy, not for the wide world; that idea is dead; you had your chance,and wouldn't take it. Funny to think how I might have missed it though;one word from her that night at Chillata, or even the next morning, andI'd have stayed, I wanted to, too, I wished to sink myself in husbandand father, though I'm hanged if I can understand it now. Ah, Lucy,there are bigger things in store for me, now. A Colonel, what's aColonel, after all? But, to go on ...
"'The very loveliest place in Norfolk, an old hall, just what you'vealways wanted--' yes, but not now, Lucy--'2,000 acres rough shooting,partridges, ducks, and a golf-links close by. Oh, do please make hasteto retire and come home.'--Partridges ... ducks ... a golf-links ...Bah!--'Ruby, poor mite, is anxious for your coming...'"
Again the puzzled look came into his eyes. "Why always 'poor'?" hemuttered, "it irritates me rather; I've no doubt she's the same as otherchildren, fat and bouncing. 'Daddy' I suppose she'll call me, want meto play bears, tree at Christmas, and all the rest of it. Doesn'tappeal to me at all, I'm afraid, though, in my folly, I thought it wouldat one time. Now for the other letter, hullo," turning it over, andlooking at the signature, "it's from Godwin, what on earth can he haveto write to me about?" He began to read:
"MY DEAR GRAEME.
"It's come at last you see--congratulations. I, regret to have heard ofyour recent successive misfortunes, but, as they are entirely your ownfault, I confess to feeling no pity for you. If a man not only refusesto learn the rudiments of his profession, but, in addition, takes acurious pleasure in putting up his superiors' backs, he must expect togo to the wall. I hope, however, that eight months in a blockhouse mayhave been beneficial, and now that you have been so unexpectedlyfortunate you will change your ways, and also read. 'If I had onlyread, Gneisenau, what a general I should have been!' Write these wordsout and, stick them up on your looking-glass, where, I should say, theyrun the best chance of being seen.
"Yours, EDWIN GOODWIN.
"On reflection it may occur to you that the tardiness of recognition inyour case may not be without its advantages."
Hector sat staring at the postscript and then suddenly a light broke inupon him. "Kept it back, I see," he muttered, "till I was a Major, thusgiving me double promotion. Lord, but they must think something of meto do that, I wonder who it was? Godwin, I suppose. He wasn't quitesuch a fool as the rest; he could see what they couldn't. How the oldfellow, though, hammers on about reading. I've done pretty well withoutit, so far, and yet I don't know--he might be right. Hang it, I've agood mind to give the thing a trial; there's nothing else to do here,and the War may go on for months. I'll send for some books to CapeTown. I'll do it now, by Jove!" And, one of those sudden imperativedesires coming over him, he left the kopje, and, hurrying back to theblockhouse, wrote out an order for all the military books he could thinkof, sending it off by mounted orderly the same afternoon, specialmessengers being daily despatched to the post-office till the literatureordered arrived.
From that time the transformation of Hector's blockhouse apartment intoa library, and himself into a book-worm, proceeded apace; weeklyconsignments of military works thenceforth arrived, and, the hearthaving been torn out of them, were thrown aside and looked at no more.
In his youth Graeme had been sickly, and on that account had not beensent to a public, or even a private, school, his mental training havingbeen entrusted to governesses and tutors, whose instructions were on noaccount to force the lad's inclinations, with the result that he grew uppractically uneducated. He had managed to scrape through the necessaryarmy examinations, but this was due rather to a certain "crammer's"uncanny knowledge of his art than to any proficiency on the part of thepupil, and a few months after the undergoing of his ordeal Hector's mindhad once more relapsed into its former
happy state of ignorance, inwhich condition it had remained till the present time.
Fortunately for him, the mental ground thus left fallow had never beenweakened by the rank growth springing from the assiduous reading ofnovels, and the soil was ready and hungry for such seeds as he mightchoose to sow. In a very few months--though yawning at times over theirdulness--he had easily mastered the contents of the dry andunimaginative text-books. This done and duty satisfied, he thereuponindulged to the full his own peculiar bent for character study, asexemplified in the biographies of the world's great commanders.
These he read from cover to cover, no longer yawning, but eagerly takingin the smallest details; indeed, it was chiefly on the trivial incidentsof childish life--revealing, nevertheless, the true unalterablecharacter of the subject--that Hector would dwell, marking as he wentthe paragraphs in which these particulars were described.
Now, to read with the object of acquiring information is one thing; butto read in order to discover a resemblance between yourself and thesubject of a biography is quite another, and a most dangerous one,especially for those to whose nature the abnormal appeals, theinevitable result being an unconscious desire to make the resemblancecomplete, even to the smallest and most objectionable details.
This is what Graeme now began to do. Since he had received recognition,and with it the birth of ambition, he had become firmly convinced thathe was destined to join the ranks of the great, and the more he readabout them the surer and more exultant he grew, for in the story oftheir lives he recognised a hundred traits of character similar to hisown, particularly in their oddities and eccentricities, on which hismind eagerly seized.
There were some among them, it is true, in whom no sign of himself wasto be met with, these the eminently sane and methodical characters; butsuch he passed over as lacking in the true fire of genius, and theirbiographies, once scanned, were thrown aside and looked at no more. Ofthe others, however, there was one in whose character he especiallydelighted, that one being Prince Suvarov, the great Russian.
His power over his soldiers, eccentricity of attire, recklessness ofconsequences, and, above all, the ingrained determination to attack andnever wait on the defensive, all these characteristics he felt himselfto possess; and inasmuch as Suvarov not only scorned to conceal, butgloried in, the revelation of mental peculiarity, so now did Hector dothe same, giving full rein to that passion for difference from hisfellows which hitherto, chiefly from the wish to please Lucy--to whomsuch was anathema--he had to a certain extent concealed.
The immediate result of this was, as usual, in the army, the bestowal ofa nickname, Graeme soon becoming known as "Mad Jack," a designationwhich stuck to him till the day of his death. This, far from annoyingits recipient, delighted him, and fired by the sensation he was causinghe went further. One of his habits, that of riding down the line ofblockhouses in a state of nature save for a towel, having come to theears of the General commanding the district, the result was a sharpreproof and request that Colonel Graeme would in future comport himselfas an officer and a gentleman.
To this Hector replied in rhyme, which so infuriated its recipient thathe reported the matter to Headquarters, and for a time Graeme's careerwas in serious jeopardy. Providentially, at this crisis the enemy atlast thought fit to put in an appearance, their assembly at a farmhousethree miles distant, with the avowed object of capturing Hector, who asa colonel was worth something, being reported to the latter by anEnglish farmer living in the district.
Thereupon, without waiting for the expected onslaught, and in defianceof standing orders, Graeme called up the garrison of every blockhouseunder his command. Leaving these empty save of scarecrow dummies, hesallied forth the same night, and surprised and captured the sleepingcommando at dawn.
The following day happening to be Palm Sunday, he despatched hisprisoners to District Headquarters under an escort decorated with longgrass and reeds, his despatch, giving an account of the affair, beingcouched in the form of a hymn. This the escort were forced to practisefor an hour before starting on their mission, their Chief conductingtheir efforts with his knobkerrie, with which he threatened instantdeath to any man who sang out of tune or laughed. His labours were invain, however, for, despite the most stringent orders and threats ofdire punishment did they disobey his orders, the escort's courage failedthem at the eleventh hour, and the prisoners were handed over in silenceby a crimson-faced, grass-decorated subaltern.
For this exploit Hector received nothing except a reproof forimpertinent levity, and, the War shortly after coming to an end, he wasdespatched to Blauboschfontein, to await the arrival of his regiment.This took place some few weeks later. Royle was in command, and overhim Graeme soon established a complete ascendency. Carson, the one manwho might have proved an obstacle in his path, having retired shortlybefore, disgusted at the regiment's non-participation in the War.Hector thus succeeded to the position of second-in-command--that is,nominally, for to all intents and purposes he reigned supreme.
He conducted the training of the troops; introduced startlinginnovations; and, in short, did what he liked, his confidence in himselfand contempt for superiors growing daily. A constant and, to hisfellows, unaccountable sequence of successes in field-days andmanoeuvres followed, Hector's methods when confronted by an adversarybeing so unusual as to render useless the ordinary stereotyped means ofdefence, and though generals and other superior persons shook theirheads and talked of wild schemes, still these plans somehow always cameoff, despite their gloomy prophecies.
Graeme's schemes were not quite the wild ones they were supposed to be,but, on the contrary, were formed on a perfectly sound basis, namely, onhis knowledge of his opponent's peculiar character, and thus proved thesafest. Well he knew the process of the ordinary military mind and itsadherence to text-book principles. These and the answering moves theyunderstood, and were consequently never confronted with them, beingparalysed at the outset by a cut to which no text-book gave the correctparry.
Give him the wild, hairbrained adversary, however--and on one occasionsuch a foe was put up against him with a view to his discomfiture, byGeneral Banks, officer commanding the district, and his bitterenemy--and straightway Hector's tactics became of the most ordinary andstereotyped description, the result on the occasion in question beingthe rout of the harebrained one without his opponent having moved fromhis original position.
Graeme moreover, by now, knew his text-books as well as and probablybetter than, his most learned adversaries, and was consequently wellaware of the risks he ran, and from which quarter danger was likely tocome; and, this being so, half the peril he incurred was gone.
Altogether Graeme prospered, and was happier in Blauboschfontein than hehad ever been before; and with happiness came physical well-being andhealth, things that had been practically unknown to him till now.
He loved the country too, spending hours roaming about the veldt tillnightfall, when, with cheeks aglow and eyes alert he would return to hisquarters and bury himself in his reading till dinner. A mostrespectable meal consumed--for him--he would seek his room once more,read again for an hour, and then tumble into bed and sleep dreamlesslytill dawn. With reveille he was up, and away to the riding maneges totake his place amongst the young horsemen, a situation for which, tospeak truth, Graeme was not qualified, being as a rider deficient inboth "hands" and patience.
All this time Lucy's letters were weekly growing more insistent for hisreturn. Did he not want to see her again, she wrote? The house too,Cuddingfold Hall, she had taken, relying on his coming, though only fora year, in case he should not like it. She had, however, the option ofa long lease, though goodness knew when another prospective tenant mightappear. If he did not, after all, now wish to retire, and from his lastletters it seemed he did not, at least he could come home on leave; theywould not refuse him that after three years' absence.
Lucy's appeals remained disregarded, and probably would have remained sobut for another event that took place about
this time, namely, thesudden death of his father. Hector thus becoming owner of a smallproperty in Scotland.
The announcement of the death was accompanied by a letter from hislawyers, requesting his immediate presence at home; and though this alsowas for a time ignored, Messrs. Quill & Screw became so urgent in theirdemands--hinting at serious pecuniary loss did he fail to return atonce--that Graeme was at length forced to comply, and submitted anapplication for six months' leave of absence.
This was gladly forwarded by Colonel Royle, who had secret hankeringsafter the control of his own regiment, and equally gladly approved byGeneral Banks, who jumped at the chance of getting rid of Hector, ifonly for a time; and a week later, his passage secured, Graeme wascomfortably seated in a first-class compartment of the famous _train deluxe_, on his way to Capetown, where the mail steamer, _DunrobinCastle_, 12,000 tons, was already waiting alongside the quay.