The spoils from this expedition now amounted to such a quantity that it was desirable that the explorers should return to Moulmein, and ship them off to England.
They had the skins of many deer, sambhurs, wild cats, and various smaller animals, as well as those of the leopard and tiger. There were many orchids, some beautiful butterflies, and the skins of rare birds; curios had been picked up in the native villages, and specimens of the ornamental woods which grew in the forests.
Ralph had a famous supply of gay feathers, and other articles, for his mother and sister; and sundry small things which he knew would give pleasure to them and the younger children, though he had no money wherewith to purchase articles of much use or value.
Their load was more cumbersome than heavy, but it filled up the bullock-gharrie so completely that they determined to stop nowhere on the road. They would return as fast as possible to Moulmein.
They jogged along therefore very cheerily, talking over their adventures, and planning what they would do upon their longer journey.
"How odd it seems," said Ralph, "to think that this time last year I was only going about the town in Liverpool,backwards and forwards to school, and never thinking about all the strange sights I was to see so soon. And now, it seems as if I had always known these places. Things I never knew of then, surprise me now no longer. This tattooing, for instance. How queer I thought it at first, and now I never think about it."
He pointed, as he spoke, to a Burman who passed them, gorgeously tattooed.
"Tattooing is not uncommon among seamen in England," said Mr. Gilchrist. "Is it, Wills?"
"No, no, zur, it b'ain't. 'Tis a very useful thing too, to hev' a mark set upon a chield so as he can be telled, dead or alive, at any time."
"Ah! it be so," said Osborn. "I mind when I wor a boy hearing tell about a young gentleman as were a midshipman in the navy, Danby his name was. He was in a frigate, cruising about in the South Seas; and going in command of a boat's crew one day to get water and fruit from one of those cannibal islands, the beggars set upon them, and murdered them all, as 'twas said. The frigate sailed away, after revenging the murders by a broadside poured in on the island, and reported the whole boat's crew dead.
"Twenty year passed away, and the affair was nigh about forgotten, when an English merchantman was sailing near the same island again, and a man leaped into the water, off a rock, and struck out, swimming for dear life towards the ship.
"They lowered a boat, and took him on board.
"'Who be you?' asked the captain.
"'Charles Danby,' said he, speaking good English, for all that he was tattooed all over his face like a native.
"'How did 'ee get theer?' asked the skipper.
"'I wor a midshipman on board His Majesty's frigateAchilles,' saith he. 'I wor sent in command of a boat's crew to get water, and they set upon us, and killed all but me. One of the women took a fancy to me, and hid me. She would have me marry her, but I didn't seem to care about it, and stuck out so long as I could.'"
"Poor soul," said Mr. Gilchrist.
Ralph laughed. "I'd like to see the dusky bride who would wedmeagainst my will," cried he. "She'd soon find that she had caught a tartar."
"It worn't no laughing matter forhe," said Osborn. "They there savages, they showed him his comrades, brought up one by one, and forced him to look on while they murdered them, roasted them, andeatthem. They'd ha' served him the same but for the woman protecting him, and she threatened him that if he wouldn't have her she'd hand him over to the cannibals, who were always coming to look at him, and saying what a nice tender morsel he'd be, for he was so young and fair and rosy."
"I've heard of aman," said the incorrigible Ralph, still laughing, "who said, when he was first married, that he was so fond of his wife that he could have eaten her; and, afterwards, that he often wished he had."
"You go along, Maister Ralph," quoth old Wills. "What should a babe, the likes of you, know about such things."
Ralph made a face at his old friend, and begged Osborn to tell him the end of the midshipman.
"Well, 'ee doan't deserve as I should," said Osborn; "but, howsomever, the boy gave in. He wor but a babe hisself,—only fourteen,—and life was sweet to him even at that cost; so he took the woman, and tried to do his best with her, though it was sorry work. They tattooed him all over, face and all, to make him look as like themselvesas they could; and he wore no clothes, but lived just like them. He got to do so exactly like them that he could pick up a fishhook from the ground with his toes, just like they could; and he had some children, and was looked upon in time just like the rest.
"He lived twenty years like this, and never saw a British ship, nor a white face, nor a sign of home all that time, for the island was an out-of-the-way one. Then, one day, all to once he saw that there merchantman in the offing. He wor a-fishing by himself, and he watched the vessel sailing nearer and nearer, old half-forgotten thoughts of home, and friends, and old England, cropping up clearer and clearer every minute; and with them a yearning for them, tearing at his heart like, till he could bear it no longer. He just jumped into the sea, and swam off to the ship.
"The poor fellow was so afraid of being caught and claimed again by his family in the island, that the skipper changed his tack, and sailed away from it, so he was brought home in safety.
"Then came the difficulty of proving himself to be Charles Danby, for nobody could recognise him. He'd left home a rosy-faced, curly-haired lad of thirteen; he came back looking like a South-Sea islander of thirty-four.
"His father was dead, but his mother was still living, and she did not know him all to once, nor none of his friends.
"But it wor no such tale as Tichborne's. He remembered all sorts of things that none but he could know,—people's names, old jokes, old stories, people in the village dead and gone, things that had happened at school.
"It was for ever, 'Where is the old cabinet that did stand here?' 'What has become of the gamekeeper's boy, Jack?' and so on.
"He soon satisfied his mother, his old nurse, and such like; but there was some money to come to him, and it was necessary to prove to the law that he was the right man to have it, and that was a harder matter.
"'Had he no mark upon him?' asked the lawyer of his mother.
"'Ay,' said she, 'he had a small mole on his cheek.'
"But that was either gone, or covered up with the tattooing, and could not be seen, nor could they think of anything else.
"'I was tattooed C. D. on my right arm,' saith he, 'first time I went to sea. C. D. it were, and the Union Jack, but it wore out. The natives didn't tattoo my arm there, because it wor done already, but it has not lasted like their marks have done. See, here is the bare spot.'
"Sure enough, there was a bare round place among the marks on his arm, but no flag nor letters wor to be seen. He hunted up the very shipmate as had done it, and who swore to having done it, and showed the fellow-mark on his own arm, only with the letters different, for each had taken the initials of his own name, though the pattern they said was the same in both.
"'Ay!' saith Mr. Danby, 'I mind what an arm I gave you, and how you swore at me for going so deep. You mocked at me for holloing out while you did me, and I vowed I'd make you holloa too.'
"'So 'ee did,' said the other officer. 'What did 'ee do it with?'
"'With three big darning-needles out from a red-leather huswife that my poor dear sister Mary gave me for a keep-sake when I went away. It had a looking-glass in it, and little blue flowers worked inside. She told me to mendmy stockings when I was at sea, but it's not many stockings as I've worn.'
"'I have the huswife now,' said his mother; 'it came back among his things. Many a time did poor Mary cry over it before she died. She used to say, "He minded what I told him about his stockings, mother, for the darning needles are gone."'
"'We lashed them together, threaded through the eyes with a bit of wire,' said Mr. Danby.
"'So we did,' said his friend.
"Well, this was all very good, but the marks wor gone, you see, so no proof in law. Just then the doctor came in, and 'What are you saying?' asked he. So they told him.
"'Show me your arm,' said he; and Danby put it out.
"The doctor took and rubbed it hard, till it wor red as a lobster.
"'Hold hard, doctor! you'll rub down to the bone.'
"But the doctor knew what he was doing, and when the place was well scrubbed, 'What do 'ee callthat?' saith he, pointing for the lawyer to see.
"There was, quite plain, the Jack and C. D., inside a circle of little dots, all in white marks upon the reddened skin. It was exactly like the blue marks upon the other man's arm, except for the initials being different, but hadn't been done so deep, so the gunpowder had worn out by degrees.
"They gave him his money, but he didn't live long to enjoy it. He was quite unfitted to live like a Christian after so many years of savage life, and civilisation killed him."
"Poor fellow," sighed Mr. Gilchrist; "it is a strange story."
Wills then began to relate some of his reminiscences. He never liked to be out-done by Osborn.
"Two or three voyages ago," said he, "we had a black cook on board; and when we were at the office, being shipped, some talk went on about tattooing. One of the young gentlemen was entering our names in the ship's register, and a sailor was showing his arms and chest the while. He was beautifully tattooed with red and blue both. He had the royal arms on his chest, and a girl, skipping, with a wreath of flowers round her; and his arms were all over letters and anchors and crosses, and what not.
"'Is any other of you so grand as this?' asked the young gentleman.
"Two or three had marks, but none so good, and he turned to the nigger.
"'You don't need mark of mouth, Sambo, I suppose?' said he.
"'Me marked though, massa,' said the darkie, grinning from ear to ear,—'me marked. Me fall in fire when boy, and the mark of burn never gone. Scored, massa, me was,—branded by hot bar. Golly! it were bad.'
"And he rolled up his sleeve, and showed the scars of a terrible burn.
"Well, we sailed in bad weather, and met with an awful storm two days after. The ship was pooped, the name-board washed away, and much damage done. We managed to put it to rights though, and went on our way; but others were less lucky. It was off the coast of Wicklow, and in that same storm, another ship went down with all hands; and some of the drowned men were washed up among the wreckage,and our name-board, with 'Osprey, Liverpool' painted on it quite plain.
"Of course the word reached 'Herfords' that it was we that was lost, but the rig of some of the spars washed up, and the colour of the paint, did not agree. One of the dead seamen was a negro, but another of them was reported to have had two fingers of his left hand gone at some former time; and though there was a negro among us, and both were reported fine, tall, big fellows, we had none among our jack-tars maimed in the hand.
"So the young gentleman that shipped the crew was sent over, with Lloyd's agent, to the Wicklow coast, to see if he could identify the corpses. Some two or three days had passed, while letters had been written backwards and forwards, and as the poor fellows had been sadly knocked about among the wreckage, there was no chance of recognising them, and they'd all been buried before the young clerk came.
"'Tis a pity as it's so,' said he, talking to Lloyd's man. 'If he were not underground, I'd have known the negro, because he had the big scar from an old burn on the inside of his left arm, reaching nearly from his elbow to his wrist.'
"'Say you so,' said Lloyd's agent, 'then we'll have him dug up again.'
"The young gentleman did not half like that, but it was done, and he had to be there, with result that the dead negro had no mark at all on his arm, so could not be the same man.
"Captain Rogers was chief mate on that voyage; and your ma, zur, was prettily relieved when she heard this, for it was a long time before we was able to report ourselves. News did not fly so soon in thiccee times as now."
"Well," said Ralph, "the outcome of all this is that I had better get tattooed as soon as I can. Will you do it for me, Wills?"
"Better wait till 'ee du get to Rangoon, maister, for 'twill make your arm very sore for some days."
"No, no, Denham; don't be foolish," said Mr. Gilchrist.
Ralph laughed, and the party stopped for their mid-day meal, which changed the conversation.
The journey back to Moulmein offered no further adventures worthy of mention; and, when arrived there, Mr. Gilchrist remained in that place quietly until after the New Year.
The floods had then subsided, and the articles for which he had sent to England arrived.
He sent off to Mr. Herford all that he had collected during his first expedition; and received advices from Rangoon, with money, and full credentials for making every possible preparation whilst he was waiting.
Ralph and the two Cornish seamen were regularly engaged, at liberal salaries; and Captain Rogers wrote to his nephew of the situation reserved for him in the Rangoon house of business,—a situation which, if he were assiduous and steady, would assure his fortune for life, and enable him to forward the interests of his younger brothers.
Ralph also received letters from home, and from Kershaw, relating how kindly he had been received by Mrs. Denham. He mentioned his determination to pass for his master's certificate before again going to sea; and assured his friend that he would often call upon his mother and sister, to tell them all particulars about Ralph himself, which he might omit when writing.
"I daresay he will," thought Ralph; "and a pretty farrago of rubbish they will hear from him, too."
Letters arriving faster than the heavy goods that were sent round the Cape, one from Mrs. Denham, giving the account of the mate's second visit, reached Ralph before he again left Moulmein.
"Your good-looking young friend, Mr. Kershaw, called again last night," she wrote, "and was most amusing. I do not think I have laughed for many years more than I did to hear him relating your imaginary love-affair with a Burmese belle. With the gravest face, and pretended sympathy for us, he went on piling up the agony, while Agnes believed every word, and her big blue eyes dilated with horror. 'She is a very charming thing in natives, from a Shan district,' he said, with a sly glance at her; 'she is dressed chiefly with a tablecloth and a rose; she carries a green cheroot in her ear, and she and Denham smoke it by turns. She sells Burmese cats in the bazaar, and has a fascinating way of sitting upon her heels, which leaves nothing to be desired as to grace. She will be able to teach you much in the way of cooking, Miss Denham; this cake, which I understand is made by yourself from a Cornish receipt, is delicious tome, but Denham has quite taken to Burmese ways now. You should see him devouring rotten fish. He is very partial to it, with rice; and finishes his light and wholesome meal with Chinese patties made of sugar and fat pork.'
"'Mr. Kershaw!' she cried. She could really say no more, her horror was so great.
"He turned to her with the kindest air. 'It is sad, Miss Denham, is it not? Your dear brother seemed made for better things; but, after all, an early attachment is often the saving of a man. I think that I could draw a sketch of the lady if you would favour me with a pencil.' Then he drew the most awful-looking picture which you could imagine; and Agnes watched every line with her wholesoul in her face, and heaved the deepest sigh when it was finished. 'It is a pretty face, is it not?' asked he politely. 'Perhaps I have favoured her a little, she may not be quite so sweet-looking in reality, but she really is a charming girl.'
"He has just walked in again, and brought Agnes the present of what he calls a Burmese cat, and declares that yourfiancéesold it to him for twopence three farthings, and a dish of fried maggots. It is a thing upon wires, or joints of some kind, like a perfect demon, sprawling and jerking about, and has already frightened baby nearly into a fit."
"I would like to punch his head for him," soliloquised Ralph. "What an idiot he is!"
But this is somewhat out of place.
Mr. Gilchrist was not desirous of remaining long in Moulmein after his stores had arrived from England. The sooner he started, the cooler would be the weather, and the more time there would be for his journey before the rains set in.
Their friends, however, would not part with them until they had passed Christmas in company; and Ralph was a little disappointed to find that the merry water-festival was not to take place upon the English New Year's Day, but on that sacred to Burma. He found that this day fell about the beginning of April, so he must wait to see the images washed, and to share in the sport of throwing water at everyone, until that time, when he would probably have arrived in Rangoon.
Mr. Gilchrist knew that many orchids could not be found in bloom before February; but, as the jungles around Moulmein had been pretty well investigated, he wished to reach fresh fields and pastures new by that time; and travelling was slow work in Burma, where the people resolutely refuse to proceed on their way if they considerthe day unlucky,—if a snake cross their path at the outset of their journey,—or if the white witch of any district, who is always consulteden passant, pronounce that the nats are adverse.
Upon the whole, the chances for this new expedition were considered to be favourable, as a very fortunate day was selected in the first instance, and the scouts of the party lighted upon a magnificent bed of mushrooms before the sun was well up.
With great delight they collected a goodly supply of this delicacy; Mr. Gilchrist produced a tin of gravy soup in which to stew them, and they feasted upon them for breakfast. Even the Englishmen were cheered by the satisfaction apparent on the faces of their attendants at this favorable omen.
"Well," said Wills, "ef it be an omen, 'tis no manner of use to set oneself up against 'un. 'Tis well az it be a good 'un, for there be a pesky lot more of whisht 'uns than of 'tother zooart."
"Ah! there be," said Osborn; "and of spreets too."
"Did you ever see a spirit, Osborn?" asked Ralph.
"I did, my son," said Osborn.
"Tell us all about it," pleaded the boy.
"Well, it wor when I was a young shaver, nineteen or twenty, or theerabout, to age; and I'd gone down St. Minver way to stay with my old granfer, who lived in thiccee parish. There wor an awful storm came, fust week in December, and the breakers were mountain high against the cliffs. Word went az how a big three-masted ship of foreign rig had been zeen trying to make for Padstow Harbour when night came, but never a stick of it wor zeen again. 'Twor supposed az it ran on the Doom Bar theer, at mouth of the harbour. I must needs go down to Hell Bay, az they do call 'un, next day, to zee the waves, az was foaming outfor miles; and a fine sight it wor, though the tide had turned, and wor roaring out then. I walked along the head of the cliff so az to get out amongst 'em; and az I went, I zeed an old man, with a long grizzled beard and moustache, like a forriner, a-leaning hisself against a stile.
"'Good-marnin', zur,' saith I; but he only turned his great sorrowful eyes upon me, with dark fire blazing out of 'em, and never spoke a word.
"'You'm an unmannerly chield,' thought I to myself, but I made to pass him without no more to zay. But he stood in my road, and lifted his hand, and beckoned, like a chield az was used to be obeyed.
"Then I did zee as how his hair was wet, dripping with watter down over his cloathes, and zayweed and little crabs stuck to it, and his hands and face wor all battered and bruised and torn, and he wor soaked through and through with watter. He moved on, making signs for me to follow of 'un, and the watter squelched in his shoes az he went, and I didn't dare to hang back.
"He led me out right to point of the cliff, and down over the rocks to a little cove behind, where a great broken mass reared up in front of a cavern, and theer, a-lyin' on the strip of sand, beside the great pool of watter, lay a lady, and she had a little child held tight in her arms, with its face cuddled down on her neck, as ef 'twor asleep. When he pointed to thiccee, he gave a dreadful great wailing cry, and wor gone.
"I thought the lady was alive at first; for the wind lifted up her long black hair, az ef 'twor playing with it; and for all that her white gown were torn, and a great rag of lace fluttered from it, it wor decently folded round her, but she wor dead and cold enough when I come to touch her.
"I got help, and she wor carried round, and buried up inthe churchyard, with her little 'un in the same coffin, but neither I nor any living chield ever saw the forriner more."
"Osborn!" cried Ralph. "Do you really mean to tell me that you saw that yourself?"
"I did, Maister Ralph."
"That Hell Bay be a quare place, zur," said Wills. "I du knaw she well. Ef there du be sech things az spreets, thiccee be the spot for 'un. Many and many a good ship have gone to pieces there; never a winter passes but three or four du go. I mind me of one awful gale when a big ship were seen there, throwing up lights and firing guns for help, but no help could drae near to 'un. Next day one little baby's shoe wor washed up,—a purty little blue kid shoe, with a silver button to it, but never a sign more of who or what the volks might be that had all gone in the dead hours of the night."
"Ay," began Osborn, once more resuming his reminiscences. "That wor the gale—I mind it well—when a brig rode safely into Padstow Harbour, and wor saved, with never a living soul aboard of her. The crew had been scared, and took to their boats, when ef they'd stuck to the brig they'd have been saved. Never a one wor zeed, but the clock were ticking away when the brig was boarded, a-telling the time for the dead men; and the fried bacon and tetties wor a-keeping hot over the galley fire for them az would never eat a meal more."
"Don't you think of these things when a storm comes while you are at sea?" asked Ralph. "Do they not make you nervous?"
"No, maister, I dunna knaw az it du. Men must die sometime, and the Lord's will must be followed. He du be so near to uz on zea az on land."
Ralph was silent, but he thought much. The old men's simple trust in their God struck him forcibly in all its truthand beauty. It was not ignorance of the risks which they ran, it was not heedlessness, it was not fatalism,—it was faith. Were he called upon to face death—instantaneous death—while life was still strong and lusty within him, could he meet it in the same steady spirit?
He feared not. Then he remembered a passage in the Bible, where men persecuted were counselled not to perplex themselves by wondering what they should say in hypothetical circumstances, for it should be given to them, in that same hour, what they should say. Perhaps it would also be given to others what they should do. He prayed inwardly that it might be so. Life was teaching this lad many lessons, though unconsciously to himself.
Also the simple straightforwardness with which he was performing his duty, under such untoward claims upon it, was influencing those whom he loved, at home, in a manner of which he little thought.
He had gone out to Burma, because he wished to relieve his mother of his keep, and this was the only manner in which he saw the possibility of so doing at once. He had thus been the means of introducing into his mother's household a lady who proved to be a most valued and valuable friend to the whole family.
By his conduct during the voyage, he had secured the attachment of several important friends for himself; opened for himself excellent prospects for prosperity in life; and earned the advantages of seeing a new country in a manner which few succeed in doing even after long residence in it. This, in after years, proved to be of material service to his career.
The accounts of his heroism in the fire at sea, and the esteem for his character which that aroused, called out all that was best in his brother's heart; and made the favourable turning-point in his life at a critical and dangerous age.
Finally, this same heroism induced Mr. Herford to take great notice of his mother and the whole family. He befriended them in many ways,—assisting in the children's education, securing for them many cheerful pleasures, and making them valuable presents from time to time.
None of these advantages would have accrued to himself, or to those he loved, had Ralph been idle, selfish, or neglectful of his duty; but now he was destined to go through a yet greater trial of endurance than any before.
Little did he think, when he set out so gaily upon his second expedition, of all the dangers which were about to beset his path while pursuing it.
When the New Year had come, all preparations being satisfactorily completed, our friends set forth upon their second journey; feeling themselves so much better equipped, and so much more experienced in both travelling, and speaking the necessary languages, that they started in the highest spirits.
Mr. Gilchrist enforced various strict regulations, with regard to the safety of his party.
None were to wander alone, far from the rest; none to start off upon independent explorations; all were to carry upon their persons, at all times, suitable firearms, always ready for use; ample supply of charges for them; hunting-knives in good order; and a small supply of food, in case of accident.
Native villages were plentifully scattered upon their road,—English stations not unfrequent. The weather was agreeable, and all promised well.
The party was successful in finding many rare orchids; so that, though their progress was slow, they were content.
They did not cross the river Salween, preferring to proceed along its banks northwards, and to search the rocky country upon its eastern side for some distance first, as the plants seemed to be of a different character there from those which they had already collected; and thecessation of traffic upon the river, in consequence of the frequent rapids in it, rendered a passage across it difficult.
Mr. Gilchrist perceived that, from the solitary character of this district, it was one in which they might possibly meet with danger from wild beasts; but he thought it unlikely that any such creatures would attack so large a number of people, or could not easily be beaten off if they did.
At first the whole party was wary; but, seeing no big game, they became less apprehensive of danger.
Many peacocks and other birds were met with, and Ralph became quite an adept in shooting them. Their flesh made a welcome variety in the commissariat department.
One day his gun was heard popping at a short distance; and Wills began to prepare a peeled wand, to serve as spit upon which to roast the expected treat, when the lad burst through the bushes in great excitement, his blue eyes blazing from his sunburnt, flushed face, beneath his dark waves of hair.
"Come quickly!" he shouted. "Come at once! Here is a whole herd of elephants crossing the river! Such a sight!"
All hurried after him. It was a fine sight. There must have been twenty or thirty elephants, with their trunks uplifted in air, swimming across where the water was tolerably quiet and still. One old female had a baby elephant with her, and encouraged the little one as she went with sounds that the young one might consider words of advice or caution.
"Oh, see, see!" cried Ralph. "There are more young ones, but bigger. How carefully the old ones guard them. I wonder why they are going across! I am glad they are not coming this way."
"They go over to feed on big tree, paya," said one of the Burmese. "Elephant like juicy branches of trees like those."
In effect, the whole herd began to feed at once upon reaching the farther shore. They could reach the tender boughs at the tops of the largest trees by stretching their trunks. They tore them down, and ate them with vast relish.
None of the Englishmen had ever before seen wild elephants in a natural state, and were deeply interested in watching them.
Suddenly a terrible noise was heard approaching them from behind; an angry, surly "Hunf, Hunf," which struck terror into their hearts, even before they saw a huge infuriated elephant coming, crashing and tearing its sullen way through the undergrowth.
"Fly! fly!" cried Mr. Gilchrist.
"Ameh! ameh!" shrieked the Burmans.
"Lord defend us!" exclaimed Osborn.
"Maister Ralph, Maister Ralph! Thee'rt just in his road!" vociferated Wills. The old man rushed forward and fired at the monstrous creature.
The elephant turned and charged down upon his assailant.
"Run, run; I'm all right!" he cried. "Run, my son, run!"
Ralph fled. He was standing a little apart from the rest, and escaped up a gulley or defile among the rocks, in a different direction from that taken by the others. They made for a group of rocks a little separated from the range among which they were orchid hunting; a few trees grew in a clump hard by. Wills alone was left at the mercy of the raging creature.
The trees formed his only chance of shelter, and he doubled, flying back towards them. Panting, labouring for breath, he just reached the tiny grove, and concealed himself behind a mighty bole. Hidden from immediate view there, he slipped backwards, and doubled again behindanother, just as the elephant, with a tramp that shook the earth beneath him, ran full tilt at the first tree, set his shoulder against it, and levelled it to the ground.
At the same moment, above the crashing and rending of timber, the splitting of branches, and the trumpeting of the mad brute, came the clear ping! ping! of two rifles, as Mr. Gilchrist and Osborn both took aim, and hit the creature in the shoulder. Wills fired, at the same moment, from behind his shelter upon the other side, and a trickle of red blood upon the elephant's flapping ear bore witness to the justness of his aim.
In the next moment, Gilchrist's and Osborn's second barrels rang out; and a volley of small shot from the rest of the party peppered the great mass, which, at such near quarters, it would have been difficult to miss.
It seemed to be too hot a place for the intruder. With an awful cry of anger and pain it shambled heavily to the river's bank, plunged into the stream, and swam down it.
The distant echo of a gun was heard at the same moment, up the defile, but no one attended to it, for the form of old Wills was seen to sway, to totter, and to sink upon the ground.
Had he been injured? Had he trod upon a snake? Had some other poisonous reptile or insect attacked him? His friends, in the greatest anxiety, hurried up to him, raised his prostrate figure, and found him in a deep swoon.
Osborn ran for water; Mr. Gilchrist supported him in his arms, and called to the chief coolie to fetch his brandy flask.
The Burman implored the master not to arouse the insensible man until his "butterfly spirit" returned to its mortal prison-house, but no heed was paid to him; and presently Wills opened his eyes, with a bewildered expression, and looked around.
"Where is the boy?" he asked. "Is the boy safe?"
No one could answer him, for Denham was not there. What had become of him?
It was no time for seeking him then, however; none of the men supposed that he was very far off, or in further danger now that the solitary elephant had gone down the river.
"He is all right," said Mr. Gilchrist soothingly. "He'll be here in a minute. Let us take you back to the bullock-gharrie, you must lie down in the shade."
Wills offered no resistance, but he could not stand; he was trembling from head to foot. The men constructed a hasty litter with their rifles, some branches, and grass; they laid Wills upon it, and carried him back to the spot where their gharrie was in waiting for them.
Though certainly clear-headed, and quite himself for a few minutes after he first came out of his swoon, a confusion seemed to overpower his mind again, and his speech was not distinct. Mr. Gilchrist felt very uneasy, as he feared that the sudden shock had induced some form of a stroke; and he knew himself wholly unfit to deal with a matter so serious.
He called up the Burman, and asked him where the nearest doctor was likely to live.
"At English station, paya," replied the man; "one only half-day's journey, or a little more, from here. The royal self's lord may reach it by sky shutting-in time, if make haste."
"Is there an English doctor there?"
"Good doctor, paya; half-caste,—wise man."
There seemed nothing to do but to take Wills on to this station without loss of time, and Mr. Gilchrist gave orders to prepare.
The day was now far advanced, no more time ought to be lost; but it suddenly occurred to them all that Ralph was not with them. What had become of the boy?
He had been seen flying from the elephant up the defile, as Wills had turned the charge of the mad creature upon himself. Some of them remembered now that the discharge of a gun had been heard afterwards up this defile; but why had the boy not returned?
Mr. Gilchrist sent the chief Burman and some coolies to search for him. Osborn would not leave his friend, over whom either sleep or stupor seemed to be creeping. Gilchrist himself went, with the rest of the men in another direction, ascending a hill which promised to afford a view up that defile; but nothing could be seen from the thickness of the jungle below.
They shouted, called, fired off blank cartridge,—but no response came. Slowly, and much perplexed, they returned to the gharrie, to find Wills growing rapidly worse. The search party came back with no news. Not a trace of the lad could they discover; but they brought in two young tiger cubs, that they had found lying asleep, to all appearance alone.
It was not to be supposed that two such very young cubs could have been there, and their mother be far away; but though there was evidently a lair there, no vestige of the parent animal was to be seen. The certainty of such creatures being in the neighbourhood, however, hastened the men's return. They had killed the cubs with their hunting-knives, lest the sound of guns should have brought down the female tiger upon them, and then they had hurried back, as fast as possible, from desire to secure their own safety.
Had Ralph fallen a victim to these creatures? Was the absence of the mother from her cubs due to the destruction of the poor young fellow? Mr. Gilchrist shuddered, as he recognised the probability of this explanation.
But one shot had been heard, and no further sound,—nocry for help, no call, no other report of firearms. What could this mean except one thing?
And what must he do now? Was it of any use to wait, to search further for Ralph? To save Wills they must push on to the English station. It would be best to do so, and return to search for the boy.
There could be little doubt but what he had fallen a victim to the tigress; but at least some evidence to this effect might be found,—his gun, some portion of his clothing, at least, might be there.
If he had escaped, he could have come back. He had ammunition with him, though it might not be much, for he had shot a good supply of birds that day. He had some biscuits with him. Finally, Mr. Gilchrist ordered a little tent to be pitched for him, a large fire to be built up, which would serve to mark the place from a distance, and would identify it to himself when he returned to it. He wrote a few lines upon a piece of paper, affixing it to the tent-pole, to desire Ralph to wait there until he came back to join him, which should be done as soon as possible.
He would have left some of the men there, but the near neighbourhood of tigers had terrified them out of all discipline, and every one of them utterly refused to remain unless the royal lord stayed himself to protect them. There was no help for it, therefore; and the party set forth with sad and anxious hearts; the day being so far spent as to place themselves in some peril from the possible attack of wild beasts, coming down from their rocky fastnesses to drink at the river.
They had to keep near the banks of the stream, too; for the road was more open there, and they could not take the bullock-gharrie through narrow or tangled paths. As it was, poor Wills was terribly jolted very often, but remainedin a state of semi-consciousness, wandering in his mind when aroused.
Mr. Gilchrist walked, to leave more room for Osborn to tend his friend; but he kept near the head of the gharrie, where he could hear and see all that went on in it. The attendants surrounded or followed, bearing flaring torches after the darkness fell, and the anxious hours passed on.
Mr. Gilchrist supposed that they might be drawing near the English settlement, which he found, upon conversation with the chief Burman, to be a police-station; when on the farther side of a small tributary to the river, which it would be necessary to ford, a bright glare of light flashed upon them suddenly as they rounded a spur of rock.
"What is that?" asked he anxiously.
"Paya, it is the jungle on fire," said the man. "It is the first jungle fire I have heard of this year, but it happens frequently in the heat every season."
"Good God!" exclaimed the gentleman, "what a sight! Are we safe here?"
"From the fire? yes, certainly," said the Burman. "See, my royal lord, there is a strip of clear ground on the farther bank of the stream, and the water would quench anything that is likely to reach it. But form up closely, for wild beasts may burst through here, being accustomed to drink at this place, and cross the ford where it is shallow."
"Load the guns," cried Mr. Gilchrist "Close round the gharrie; take out the bullocks, and fasten them to the wheels,—we can surround them better so. Set your backs to the cart, and keep your weapons ready."
He would have had Osborn remain in the gharrie, beneath shelter, with Wills, but the old man was out at the first hint of danger. He laid his friend's head upon a cushion, renewed the wet rags that lay upon his fevered brow, gave him some cool drink, and was ready to help his master in five minutes.
He was needed. Gilchrist looked round, his numbers were short. Had the uncertain light deceived him? Surely there should have been enough men to surround the gharrie and bullocks; also the two tats, or ponies, and the larger horse, that were now brought into such close space, and fastened to the cart. He counted heads. Three Burmans were missing.
A very short search discovered them,—they were crouched upon the ground, beneath the gharrie, hiding, in an agony of fear.
"Come out, you cowardly rascals!" thundered he. "Come out, or I will shoot you all as you lie there! Come out this instant!"
The men crept out, shaking with fright, and imploring the royal lord's self to pardon them. They did not know whether to be most afraid of him, or the fire, or the possible wild beasts. They were not likely to be of much use whichever danger arose first.
Mr. Gilchrist posted them between the coolies, Osborn, and himself, with orders that the first one who abandoned his post should be shot without mercy.
Meantime, animals were flying by, now by one or two at a time, then in herds. Sambhurs, with terrified eyes, bounded along at headlong speed; peacocks flew past, screaming; water-fowl rose in air. Monkeys jabbered and leapt by, wild cats scurried across. Then a great roar was heard, and a pair of leopards sprang out of their covers, and stoodglaring at the little band, every hair upon their beautiful spotted skins seeming to bristle with wrath.
Out rang Mr. Gilchrist's rifle; out rang Osborn's,—the female fell; the male, hardly braver than the Burmans, though more ferocious, turned tail and fled. The leopard was not dead, her leg was broken by one shot, her side entered by the other; but the contents of the second barrels despatched her.
Hardly had she been dead ten minutes, when, with a heavy flapping of dark wings, many vultures were seen sweeping past and settling upon the nearest trees. The branches were weighed down with the black mass of these ill-omened birds.
Meantime the fire wound along among the jungle-grass in brilliantly sinuous lines; and ever as it ran hither and thither, a screaming, fluttering, shrieking rush of animal life followed it, though not always taking the direction of our friends.
After the first, though clouds of birds and bats flew over their heads, deer, and larger beasts, hurrying to places of safety, turned aside upon perceiving them, and scampered farther down the stream. Rats and small fry ran in the shallow water along its banks; and monkeys swung themselves, hand over hand, among the trees.
By degrees the fire burnt itself out upon their road, and swept farther away; but it was broad daylight before the travellers dared to relax their vigilance, or breathe freely once more. Mr. Gilchrist served out a modicum of brandy to each man, and some biscuits. The refreshment was much needed, and gave them heart.
In the cool early morning, Wills was better; his temperature went down, his mind appeared clearer, and his speech less confused. Then, too, rising above the blackenedjungle, perched high upon a hillside, appeared the police-station; and a group of horsemen might be seen, in fresh linen garments, riding down in their direction. A lady was one of the party as well; she cantered along in her easy grey habit, with long curls blowing back beneath a shady black hat, a pleasant sight to all. She proved to be a girl of nineteen, just come out from home, the bride of the young police officer; a bonnie, slender thing, with smiling lips, frank blue eyes, English roses still upon her cheeks, Burmese roses fastened into the bosom of her jacket.
So short a time had elapsed since her marriage, that she still gave a little involuntary start of remembrance when anyone called her Mrs. Brudenel, the name which she had been accustomed to hear only as that of her husband's mother, while at his "wifey," a flush of colour would suddenly mantle upon her fair young face.
Mr. Gilchrist had his own private hopes, which caused him to watch these little signs with secret interest, though he betrayed no outward symptom of his pleasure in them, and maintained a formal show of deep respect towards her.
She was kindness itself to poor Wills, and treated him with a skill which showed her familiarity with illness. No sooner did she receive him into her house, than she directed her ayah to prepare her one spare room for him,—a cool pleasant apartment; she bathed his brow with a fragrant lotion, applied mustard poultices to the back of his head behind his ears; she supplied all other things desirable, and devised means for throwing out a profuse perspiration upon his body.
Wills gradually recovered his full senses under this treatment, but was very weak.
The doctor soon arrived, and so played his skilful part,that, upon bringing to him a basin of such soup as he had seldom enjoyed, Wills looked up anxiously in Mrs. Brudenel's face.
"The boy?" he asked. "Is he safe?"
"We hope so," replied she gently.
"Onlyhope, miss?"
"Only hope at present, but my husband has taken his men to bring him in. We shall soon have good news for you, please God."
"Ay, please God," said the old man. "The cheild has come to be like the apple of my eye,—the best fruit from a fine old stock, lady. Please God, please God."
"Would you like me to pray with you for his safety?" asked the lady.
"Ay, ef 'ee will," replied he.
Mrs. Brudenel knelt by the old seaman's bed, took his horny hand in her soft white one, and poured out a supplication to the God and Father of them both, that He would keep this boy safely beneath the shadow of His everlasting wings, and restore him to his friends without injury.
As she rose from her knees, the old man's lips moved again. "Amen, amen," he muttered. "Please God, please God."
He fell into a sleep, still murmuring these words, and holding the lady's hand.
She did not try to release it, but sat patiently by the bedside until his fingers relaxed of their own accord, as his sleep deepened; then leaving the ayah to fan him, and be ready to give him more nourishment when he should awake, she stole away in search of her husband.
Mr. Brudenel, having helped his other guests to refresh themselves after their night's strain of anxiety, having placedbaths and refreshment before them, had now gathered his own men together, and, with Mr. Gilchrist and Osborn, was proceeding to search for Ralph.
"How is your patient, wifey?" asked he, as he observed his wife's approach.
"Better," said she in a cheerful voice. "He was quite clear in mind for a short time, and is now asleep. I hope you will find your young friend safe and well," she added, turning to Mr. Gilchrist.
"Thank you, madam," replied he. "If not, I shall feel guilty of his loss to my dying day, for I took him from comparative safety, chiefly for my own pleasure in the company of his bright boyhood."
"Pooh, pooh!" cried Mr. Brudenel. "We will have him all right in a couple of hours. Lads like he take a deal of killing. I have been in queer places dozens of times myself, but always turned up again like a bad shilling. Forward, my friends!"
They rode down the hillside; a turn in the path hid them from sight; then they reappeared upon the plain through which the stream flowed, and picked their careful way across the ford, the horses throwing up the sparkling water at each step as they splashed through. Then they slowly mounted the rocky track on the farther side, and disappeared from sight.
Mrs. Brudenel watched the cavalcade to this spot, and then returned to the invalid.
"We will go to the tent first," said Mr. Gilchrist. They did so. The fire which they had built up was burned down to a handful of smouldering ashes; the little white note was still there upon the tree, plainly in sight; the tent was deserted, no sign was there of any person having visited it. The silence and solitude was significant and oppressive.
With a gloomy brow, Gilchrist turned his horse's head towards the defile up which Ralph had fled.
This led away from the direction of the river, back into the jungle through which they had come, but farther east. No word was spoken among the searchers as they rode up the pass. It was very narrow, probably but the bed of a mountain stream when the rains had fallen plentifully, and now dry. The jungle closed in thickly upon it, and became more and more dense as they mounted the hill. The natives who accompanied the party pointed out the spot where the two tiger cubs had lain, and been killed. It was marked by the bleached and scattered bones of various deer, some sambhurs' horns, and remains of other creatures, which had formed the prey of the parent animals.
With a sick heart, Gilchrist nerved himself to examine this débris. He turned over leg bones, skulls, and all which he could find, not leaving one unnoticed, but none were human remains. Not the slightest sign appeared to show that Ralph had been there, nor that the full-grown beasts had revisited the spot.
They pursued their way with difficulty, so thick was the tangle of the underwood. Huge ferns reared gigantic fronds among shrubs of a hundred different kinds; orchids hung pendant from lofty trees; creepers of many sorts, with blossoms of every colour, drooped from heights, clung to branches, wound their devious way from trunk to trunk, cast curtains of foliage and flower around monarchs of the forest and humble scrub, touched the fertile virgin earth, took fresh root, and started upon new complications in other directions.
But what was this? Dark vultures concealed a massive form stretched upon the ground in a little glade, comparatively open. What were they devouring?
At the approach of the searchers they rose, heavily flapping their ill-omened pinions, among hoarse cries, and awaited the completion of their meal from short distances.
Mr. Gilchrist turned very faint, he could not proceed, he leant against the trunk of a tree while the rest cut their way through the intervening vines, and a jackal sneaked away at their approach.
A cry of surprise and relief broke from Mr. Brudenel's lips.
"It is a female tiger's remains, nothing worse!" shouted he. "She has been killed by a magnificent shot, here in the neck! A single bullet did for her! Your man has been this way, without doubt; and does he not know how to handle his rifle!Heis no bungler, that's certain."
Mr. Gilchrist took fresh heart, and approached the spot. The tiger's bones were picked nearly clean already; the foul birds of prey had wasted no time. Little but the skeleton remained of what had, only twenty-four hours earlier, been so fearsome and so splendid a brute; and which had been done to death by one little piece of lead buried in its spine.
The eyes which had glared with yellow fire were picked clean from the head, the jaws which had uttered many a dreadful cry were lying wide open in ghastly mockery of rage, and the tongue was torn from behind them.
"We will keep this skull," exclaimed Brudenel with triumph. "There is little else worth carrying off, but this will be a trophy worth keeping. Your friend has got safely away fromthisperil, at anyrate, Gilchrist; we will find him yet, you will see. He's no fool to have shot like this!"
Gilchrist smiled. A faint ray of hope pierced into his heart at the cheery words. It certainly must have been Denham who had killed that tiger,—that must have been the shot which had been heard. But why had he not returned? Where was he now?
The search now proceeded with fresh spirit. Taking the spot where lay the tiger's carcase as a centre, the party closely examined every exit from it, but quite fruitlessly. It was tolerably easy to perceive from which side the shot had been fired,—where Denham must have been standing at that moment,—they proceeded first in that direction.
A little breakage among some succulent plants betrayed a slight farther progress there; then this trace ceased wholly. A wall of thick foliage interposed,—a purple flower bedecking it with rare beauty, but it turned them back. A long stalk ofAmherstialay on the ground at a short distance, as if it might have been broken off short in an attempt to mount a tree by its aid, but this clue also failed them.
The glade narrowed at one side to a tiny track, possible to penetrate. They advanced along it in single file, now climbing over fallen tree-trunks all smothered in ferns, then stooping beneath loops and trails ofDendrobiums, and a variety of plants, matted together with convolvuli, and tendrils of many kinds.
It opened out upon a blackened vista over which the jungle fire had swept, burning away every trace of animal life; a desolate track of waste and ruin, among such super-abundant life, as was strange to see.
Stranger still to observe a glorious butterfly—a fragile,delicate creature, just emerged from its chrysalis tomb—spreading its painted wings, yet damp from its new birth, in the warmth of the sun as it streamed down upon the scorched grass. It was a living allegory of Life after Death which could not fail to strike every soul.
"It is your friend's 'leyp bya,'" said one of the Burmans. "It must have been out upon a ramble when the fire overtook him in his sleep, and it cannot now find its home again in him."
The charred scrub no longer presented further difficulties in the way of search. It was comparatively easy to penetrate in almost any direction; and the party separated, scattering themselves over the cleared space, and closely examining every rood of ground. Not a sign of man was to be found. Would any such exist after so fierce a flame had swept over it? Could it have been expected?
Mr. Brudenel laid his hand upon Gilchrist's shoulder.
"It is useless, my friend," said he. "The boy has gone, and left no trace. You must bear it like a man. If he yet should have escaped both fire and wild beast, he will be heard of in time. He can find us, but we cannot find him."
"Oh, do not say that I must abandon hope!" cried Gilchrist in agonised tones. "There must be something yet to be done."
"Offer a reward to any Burman who may bring in the smallest trace," suggested Osborn. "Those fellows have their network of connections all over the land. Make it worth their while to bring in anything that they may find. The stock of his rifle might be burnt, but the barrel must be there in some form. So must his hunting-knife, and many little things, as buttons, buckles, and such like, on his clothes. No wild beast could eat up thiccee neither."
"I will give any reward which Mr. Brudenel thinks likely to succeed," cried Gilchrist eagerly.
"Not too fast," remonstrated the police officer. "Offer too liberal a sum, and, should he live, some of our worthy neighbours will murder him for sake of it. Leave that to me, I will manage that."
He had really no hope whatever that Denham lived, but was too kindly at heart to say so in plain words.
"Stay with me awhile, till we feel that we have turned every stone to find the lad," he suggested. "You will have every facility for search with us, and a rest will do yourself no harm after all you have gone through. Your old man will not be fit to move yet, either. Let my wife coddle him up into good health again first, and I can give you some sport the while."
Mr. Gilchrist readily accepted the invitation, for he could not bear the idea of relinquishing all hope of Ralph.
They returned sadly and silently to the station, where every comfort awaited them, but which they could not enjoy from a haunting dread of what Ralph might be suffering in some lonely spot,—perhaps burned and bruised, yet living, and beyond help. The nice dinner choked Mr. Gilchrist, he could not swallow the dainties which Mrs. Brudenel, in the pride of her young housekeeping, had laid before them; sleep forsook his pillow; he had no apparent answer to his prayers; gloom took possession of his soul.
With gentle wile did Mrs. Brudenel try to cheer her visitor, and distract his thoughts from constant brooding over the inevitable.
She succeeded with him better than her husband did, though he was as kind as he knew how to be; but he was accustomed to rougher experiences, and used to losing his comrades by death under many phases. His wife walked in the verandah with her afflicted guest; she told him of Wills' state, which steadily improved. She consulted him as to the garden, which she was anxious to make verybeautiful, and how to grow the plants which she admired most, and which were all new to her experience. Gilchrist tried, for sake of her kindness, to take interest in her pleasures, despite his heavy heart.
"I fear," said he to her, "that we give you much trouble, and are sadly in your way."
"Oh no, no! far from that!" cried she eagerly. "You are such pleasant company for my husband, to whom it is such a treat to have English faces about him; and you tell me so nicely how to manage the orchids, of which I am anxious to have a good collection. Yours is just the help I wanted; and if you want any drawings of specimens, I may be of some assistance to you, for I am fond of drawing."
"Fetch some of your pictures, wifey," said Mr. Brudenel. "See, Gilchrist, is not that thing nice, it looks just as if it were growing there. I have ordered a carved frame for it, from a fellow here who does that sort of thing admirably."
"It is indeed an excellent drawing of the specimen," said Gilchrist; "but, excuse me, madam, you have copied the blossom from one plant and the foliage from another."
"I did," said Mrs. Brudenel, surprised. "I only had the flower, which was brought to me cut from its stem, so I put in the leaves from that one which grows in the verandah."
"And that one, which is not yet in bloom, will bear a blossom of white and lemon colour, whereas this is purple streaked."
"Oh, Mr. Gilchrist!" cried she, in pretty dismay, "what can be done? Can I alter it and put it right?"
"It would be best to do so, certainly," said he, unpacking a tin case of his own sketches; which, though less finished than the lady's drawings, were far more accurate as botanical specimens. But among them were some of Ralph's hasty schoolboy productions; one done in a merry mood, when he had contrived to introduce thesemblance of a grotesque human face among the convolutions of the plant. Mr. Gilchrist came upon this unexpectedly, in his search for the one which he wanted, and broke down completely over it, as it brought so forcibly before him the boy's laughing eyes and bright expression as he had held it up for inspection, with some harmless nonsense.
Oh, Ralph! Was that smiling face cold and set in death already? Were those pleasant eyes closed for ever, those jocund lips pale and grim? Was that dear brave boy lying scorched and blackened by the jungle flame, or torn limb from limb by the tiger? Had he gone through so much by sea and land, for his fate to remain an unsolved mystery for evermore; a secret—a dreadful haunting secret—only to be divulged on the last day?
Mrs. Brudenel put her kind hand upon Gilchrist's shoulder.
"Do not despair, my friend," said she gently; "do not abandon yourself to despair. God is very good,—very merciful. Perhaps Ralph is safe yet. No sign of him has been found, and had the tiger killed him there surely would have been some. Let us seek for faith."
"I do not know how to have faith, dear lady," groaned Mr. Gilchrist. "There seems no ground for faith."
"Ah, my dear sir," was her innocent reply, "faith would not be faith were there ground for it. It is simple trust in our Father's goodness."
Gilchrist could not reply. He knew that she was right; he knew that she was nearer to God than he; he felt rebuked, though she was far from having intended to administer rebuke,—it did not occur to her that she had done so.
There was silence for a few minutes, then she began again.
"Tell me about Ralph, he must be about the age of my brother Sydney."
"Not seventeen," replied Mr. Gilchrist.
"And what a hero he is! how much bravery he has shown! Sydney would be so envious of him. He is very high-spirited and daring too. He is going to be a soldier,—papa is a soldier, you know."
"Yes, madam?"
"I have heard papa say that the hardest thing soldiers have to do is towaituntil they are wanted. When they are charging down upon an enemy, and fighting, they are carried on by the excitement, and forget everything but the work in hand. When they are standing still, doing nothing but keeping steady, and seeing the battle carried on by others on every hand, it is a very hard thing for them to hold themselves in."
"Waiting is always hard," said Mr. Gilchrist, sighing.
"Yes. Papa had to do it the very first time when he was in an engagement. It was in some Indian skirmish with native troops, and papa's company was one held in reserve to pour in fresh when the rebels were tired, and meantime to hold a pass and prevent them from moving round to the rear of the English. I believe," continued she, with a smile, "that I am expressing myself badly, like an ignorant girl, but perhaps you understand what I mean?"
"Yes, madam, your meaning is perfectly clear to me."
"Well, papa found it so hard to stand still, with nothing to do, that he took up a bit of stick and whittled it to keep himself steady. When the call to charge was sounded, he put the half-peeled stick and the handful of chips into his pocket; he never knew why, or even that he had done so, until mamma found them there long afterwards, and asked him why he kept such things. Then the sight ofthem called up the whole scene to him more plainly than anything else, he said: the dark-faced rebels, with evil looks and angry eyes; the glare and flashing guns and smother of smoke; and the poor creatures shot down before his face, and lying howling and bleeding on the ground, among plunging horses and shouting men; and some lying still who had been so raging just before, and the set determined look upon the Englishmen.
"Mamma has those chips now, put away among her treasures, and shows them to us sometimes on a Sunday evening, when we have been reading the Bible to her, and talking about being resolute, and such things."
"Your story reminds me of the poet's words, 'Those also serve, who only stand and wait,'" said Mr. Gilchrist.
"Yes, does it not," cried she, her sweet face kindling. "I do so like those lines."
Mr. Brudenel here returned from his morning duties, and invited Gilchrist to take a turn in the verandah with him.
"No news yet, I am sorry to say," said he.
Mr. Gilchrist turned to Mrs. Brudenel, "I will try to 'stand and wait,' patiently," said he.
Some excitement was here observed among the natives and servants. A man had arrived, carrying something large and round, tied up in a gaily-coloured handkerchief, which he swung carelessly in his hand as he approached.
The little crowd pressed closely about him, all eagerly talking at once. Some words attracted Mr. Brudenel's ear, that of "dacoit" prominent among them. He rose hastily, and marched down to the excited group.
"Oh," cried Mrs. Brudenel, "perhaps the man has brought news of your friend! let us hasten to hear what he says. What can he have in that handkerchief?"
She rose, and almost ran through the compound; in hereagerness quite outstripping Mr. Gilchrist, who longed, yet dreaded, to hear the news which he felt had come at last.
Mr. Brudenel lifted his hand in warning to his wife, but she did not perceive his caution; nor, in the babble of Burmese tongues, catch his desire that she should not be present.
"What have you there?" asked she in her excitement, airing one of the few phrases of the language which had been so recently taught to her.
Quite proud to be addressed by the English lady, and pleased with himself, his burden, and the news which he had to impart, the Burman untied his bundle with an amiable grin of delight, and out rolled, to the horrified girl's feet, the ghastly, gory, head of a dacoit chief, with its fierce expression set in death upon the parted blackened lips, and in the deep lines around the sunken eyes.