‘Sweet, and to the point,’ said little Mildred. ‘What’s the use of getting wroth? Let’s make this poor devil comfortable.’
But that was a matter suddenly and swiftly taken from the loving hands of the White Hussars. The lieutenant had returned only to go away again three days later, when the wail of the Dead March, and the tramp of the squadrons, told the wondering Station, who saw no gap in the mess-table, that an officer of the regiment had resigned his new-found commission.
And Dirkovitch, bland, supple, and always genial, went away too by a night train. Little Mildred and another man saw him off, for he was the guest of the mess, and even had he smitten the colonel with the open hand, the law of that mess allowed no relaxation of hospitality.
‘Good-bye, Dirkovitch, and a pleasant journey,’ said little Mildred.
‘Indeed! But we thought you were going home?’
‘Yes, but I will come again. My dear friends, is that road shut?’ He pointed to where the North Star burned over the Khyber Pass.
‘By Jove! I forgot. Of course. Happy to meet you, old man, any time you like. Got everything you want? Cheroots, ice, bedding? That’s all right. Well, au revoir, Dirkovitch.’
‘Um,’ said the other man, as the tail-lights of the train grew small. ‘Of--all--the--unmitigated--!’
Little Mildred answered nothing, but watched the North Star and hummed a selection from a recent Simla burlesque that had much delighted the White Hussars. It ran--
I’m sorry for Mister Bluebeard, I’m sorry to cause him pain; But a terrible spree there’s sure to be When he comes back again.
There’s a convict more in the Central Jail, Behind the old mud wall; There’s a lifter less on the Border trail, And the Queen’s Peace over all, Dear boys The Queen’s Peace over all.
For we must bear our leader’s blame, On us the shame will fall, If we lift our hand from a fettered land And the Queen’s Peace over all, Dear boys, The Queen’s Peace over all! THE RUNNING OF SHINDAND.
The Indus had risen in flood without warning. Last night it was a fordable shallow; to-night five miles of raving muddy water parted bank and caving bank, and the river was still rising under the moon. A litter borne by six bearded men, all unused to the work, stopped in the white sand that bordered the whiter plain.