'About five minutes ago. Round a stone,' answered Guy, with true military conciseness.
'This will be a bad business,' observed the General, his face brightening with the joy of battle. 'We have no time to spare—we must give these demons a lesson they will not forget!' (this was out of the books). 'Look to your arms, my men, and see that we are provisioned for a siege (you might get the cook to give us some of that shortbread, and the rest of the cake we had at tea, Private Jack). We cannot tell to what straits we may be reduced.'
'Then,' inquired Hazel, demurely, 'you mean to stay here and fight them?'
'To the last gasp!' said the General.
Hazel liked him better then than she had done since his first arrival.
'He really is a plucky boy after all,' she thought. 'I wonder if it will last?'
The General's self-possession and resource were indeed remarkable.
'We ought to have a cannon,' he said; 'there's a big roll of matting somewhere in the house. If we got that, and widened a loophole, and shoved it through, it would look just like the muzzle of a cannon in the dark.'
'Would that frighten a Red Indian much?' asked Hazel.
'Not if he knew what it was, perhaps; but who's going to tell him? Jack, just run up to the house, like a good fellow, and see if you can find it, will you? You can go with him, Guy.'
'You seem rather to like the idea of being attacked,' said Hazel, when she and Clarence were alone together. He was gratified to notice the new friendliness in her voice.
'Well, you see,' he explained loftily, 'I don'tsuppose I'm pluckier than most people, but it just happens that I'm not afraid of Red Indians, that's all; when I saw all those at Buffalo Bill's I wasn't even excited: it's constitutional, I fancy.' He always modelled his talk a good deal upon books, and a crisis like this naturally brought out his largest language.
'I'd better see you safe back to the house, I think,' he added; 'I don't expect them for an hour yet, but you can never depend on savages—they might be lurking about the grounds already, for what we know.'
And, although Hazel had her own private ideas about the reality of the danger, she was struck by his coolness and courage, for which, whether justified or not by the occasion, she was quite fair-minded enough to give him due credit.
Meanwhile, the other two boys, bursting with excitement, had rushed up to the verandah, under which their mother and uncle were sitting.
'Mother! Uncle Lambert! What do you think? Our camp is going to be attacked this very night by Indians!'
'Yes, dears,' said Mrs. Jolliffe, serenely; 'but have you had your teas yet?'
Trifles such as these harrow the martial soul more than conflicts.
'But, mother, did you hear what we said? The fort is to be stormed by Red Indians!'
'Very well, dears, so long as you don't make too much noise,' was the sole comment of this mostprovokingly placid lady. What she ought to have done was, of course, to throw down her work, raise her eyes to the clouds, clasp her hands, and observe, in an agitated tone, 'Heaven protect us! We are lost!' But few mothers are capable of really rising to emergencies of this kind.
Hilary and Cecily had been playing tennis, and, overhearing the alarming news, came up to the steps of the verandah. 'Did you say Red Indians were coming here?'
Uncle Lambert shook his head lugubriously. 'I always warned your father,' he remarked; 'but hewouldcome to live in Berkshire.'
'Why?' inquired Cecily. 'Is Berkshire a bad place for Red Indians, uncle?'
'I should say it was one of the worst places in all Europe!' he said solemnly.
Both Hilary and Cecily had heard and read a good deal about Red Indians lately, and had also, with their brothers, visited the American Exhibition, so that it did not strike either of them as unlikely just then that there should be a few scattered about in England, just as gipsies are.
'But what are you going to do about it?' they asked their brother.
'Lick 'em, of course!' said Guy. 'Now you see that an army is some use, after all.'
'Don't be taken alive, there's good boys,' advised their frivolous uncle, who seemed still unable to realisethe extreme gravity of the occasion. 'Sell your lives as dearly as possible.'
'What is the use of telling them that, uncle?' exclaimed Cecily. 'They wouldn't get the money; and do you think any ofuswould touch it? How can you talk in that horrid way? Jack and Guy, don't go to that camp. Let the Indians have it, if they want to; you can soon build another.'
'You don't understand,' said Jack, impatiently. 'We can't have a lot of Red Indians in our camp—it wouldn't be safe for you.'
'Oh, I shall go and speak to Clarence,' she cried. 'I'm sure he won't want to fight them.' And she ran down to the end of the lawn, where he could be seen returning with Hazel.
'I want to speak to you quite alone,' she said. 'No, Hazel, it's a secret,' and she drew him aside.
'Clarence,' she said, and her blue eyes were dark with fear, 'tell me—are the Indians really coming?'
'You can judge for yourself,' he said, and gave her the paper. 'We've just had this thrown over the stockade. It seems to have been written by somebody who is in their secrets.'
'How badly Red Indians do spell!' said Cecily, shuddering as she read.
'It may be a white man's writing,' he said; 'perhaps a prisoner, or a confederate who repents.'
'But, Clarence, dear,' entreated Cecily (ten minutesago she would not have added the epithet), 'you won't stay out and sit up for them, will you?'
'Do you think we're a set of cowards?' he demanded grandly.
'Not you, Clarence; but—but Jack and Guy are not very big boys, are they? I mean, they're a little too young to fight full-sized Indians.'
'There will be all sorts of sized Indians, I expect,' said Clarence. 'Of course, I don't say they'll come. They may think discretion's the better part of valour when they find we're prepared; but I must say I anticipate an attack myself.'
'I wish you would do without Jack and Guy. Couldn't you?' suggested Cecily.
His eyes gleamed. 'Cecily,' he said, 'tell me the worst—the army are getting in a funk?'
'No,' she cried; and then she resolved to sacrifice their reputation for their safety. 'At least, they haven't said anything; but I'm sure they'd feel more comfortable in the drawing-room. Can't you order them to stay and guard us? You're General.'
'And I am to face the foe alone?' he cried. 'Well, I am older than them' (I must decline to be responsible for the grammar of the characters of this story). 'I have lived my life—I shall be the less missed.... Let it be as you say.'
All this was strictly according to the books, and he enjoyed himself immensely.
'Thank you, dear, dear Clarence. I'd no ideayou were so noble and brave. Try not to let those Indians hit you.'
'I cannot answer for the future,' he said; 'but since you wish it I will do my best.'
After all there was some good in girls. Here was one who said exactly the right things, without needing any prompting whatever.
Cecily hunted up Jack and Guy, who were poking about in the house. 'You're not to guard the stockade,' she announced, with ill-concealed triumph.
'Oh, aren't we, though?' said Guy; 'who says so? Not mother!'
'No—Clarence; he said I was to tell you to go on duty in the drawing-room.'
'What bosh!' said Guy. 'As if any Indians would come there! I don't care what Clarence says, I shall go in the stockade!'
'So shall I! 'said Jack. 'Now let's get that piece of matting, and go down sharp—the evening star's out already.'
Poor Cecily was in despair; what was to be done when they were so obstinate as this?
'I know where there's some beautiful matting,' she said.
'Where? Tell us, quick!'
'Come with me, and I'll show you.' She led the way along a corridor to the wing where the billiard-room was. 'Wait till I see if it's there still,' she said,and went into the billiard-room and looked around. 'Yes, itisthere,' she told them as she came out.
'I don't see it, Cecily; where?' they cried from within.
Cecily shut the door softly, and turned the key (which she had managed to abstract on entering) in the outer lock.
'It's on the floor,' she cried through the keyhole; 'I didn't tell a story—and don't be angry, boys, dear, it's all for your good!'
Then, without waiting to hear their indignant outcry, she scudded along the corridor and down the staircase, with the sounds of muffled shouts and kicks growing fainter behind her.
'I don't mind so much now,' she thought; 'they'll be awfully angry when they come out—but the Indians will have gone by that time!'
Clarence had already retreated to his stronghold when she entered the drawing-room.
Everything seemed as usual; Uncle Lambert, in evening dress, was playing desultory snatches fromRuddigore. Mrs. Jolliffe came down presently, and he took her in to dinner with one of his tiresome jokes. No one seemed at all anxious about poor Tinling, fighting all alone down in the paddock.
She curled herself up on a settee by one of the open windows, and listened, trying to catch the sound of Indian yells. 'Hazel,' she said anxiously, 'do you think the Indians will hurt Tinling?'
Hazel gave a little laugh. 'I don't think the army's in any very great danger, Cis,' she replied.
'Hazel doesn't believe there are any Indians at all,' explained Hilary.
'Well,' said Cecily, softly, 'I've kept the army out of danger, whether there are or not!'
But she felt relieved by her sisters' evident tranquillity, and by-and-by, when Mrs. Jolliffe came in from the dining-room and settled down with her embroidery as if there were not the least chance of a savage coming whooping in the open window, Cecily almost forgot her fears.
They came back in full force, however, as, a little later on, she heard a quick, light step on the gravel outside, and started with a little scream of terror. 'Don't tell them where the army are!' she cried; and then she saw that her alarm was needless, for it was the gallant General who stepped into the room. Hazel looked up from the album which she was making for a children's hospital, Hilary threw away her book, Mrs. Jolliffe had ceased to embroider, but that was because she was peacefully dozing.
'Victory!' said Clarence, waving his sword.
'Then they did come?' cried Cecily, triumphantly.
'Rather!' he replied. 'I couldn't tell how many there were, but they were overcome with panic at the first discharge. I fancytheseIndians had never heard firearms before.'
'How funny that we shouldn't have heard any now!' remarked Hazel, resting her chin on her palms, while her grey eyes had a rather mocking sparkle in them.
'Not funny at all,' he said, 'considering the wind was the other way. I let them come on, and then poured a volley into the thickest part of their ranks—that made them waver, and then I made a sortie, and you should have just seen them scuttle!'
'I wish I had,' said Hazel, as she pasted another Christmas card into her album. 'And weren't you wounded at all?'
'A mere scratch,' he said lightly (which is what book-heroes always say).
'It looks as if you had been amongst the gooseberry-bushes,' said Hilary, examining his arm as he pulled up his sleeve.
'Does it? Well, I only know it's lucky for me there were no poisoned arrows.'
'Oughtn't you to have it burnt, though, Clarence, just in case?' suggested Cecily, in all good faith; 'there's sure to be a red-hot poker in the kitchen.'
But Clarence was very decidedly of opinion that such a precaution was not necessary.
'And you're quite sure the Indians are all gone?' she asked.
'There isn't one of 'em within miles,' he said confidently, 'I'll answer for that.'
'Then come upstairs with me, and we'll let the army out. They'll be in such a temper!'
They found the two boys, who had tired of kicking and shouting by that time, sitting gloomily on the long seats in the dark.
'Guy, dear—Jack,' said Cecily, timidly, 'you can come out now. Clarence has beaten the Indians.'
'Without us?' groaned Guy. 'Cecily, I'll never speak to you again! Tinling, I—we—you don't think we funked, do you? She locked us up here!'
All the General's native magnanimity came out now.
'We won't say any more about it,' he said. 'It was rather a close shave, with only one man to do it all. But, there, I managed somehow, and perhaps it was just as well you weren't there. The first rush was no joke, I can tell you.'
Jack punched his own head with both hands.
'Oh, it's too bad!' he said—he was almost in tears. 'They'll all think we deserted you! Did you kill many of them, Tinling?'
'I didn't see any corpses,' he replied; 'but I shouldn't be surprised if some of them died when they got home.'
'They may come again to-morrow night,' said Jack, more cheerfully.
'Not much fear of that—they've had their lesson. They were seized with utter panic.'
'Which way did they go?' asked Guy, evidently bent on pursuing them.
'Oh, in all directions. But you wouldn't catch them up now; they ran too fast for me even!'
'Then I shall go to bed,' said the entire army, in great depression. 'It is a shame we couldn't be there. Good-night, General.' And, pointedly ignoring poor Cecily, they marched off to their quarters. She looked wistfully after them.
'They'll never forgive me—I know they won't!' she said to Tinling.
'Don't you mind,' he said, 'you acted very wisely. And, after all, these raw young troops can never be depended on under fire, you know—I mean, under arrows.'
Cecily drew herself up a little haughtily.
'I locked them in because I didn't want them to get hurt,' she said, 'not because I thought they'd be afraid.'
Uncle Lambert did not hear about the result of the engagement until the following day, but then, to make up for any delay, he heard a good deal about it. Even Clarence was not quite prepared for the enthusiasm he showed.
'Splendid, my boy, splendid!' he kept repeating, while he hit him rather hard on the back; 'you're a hero. A grateful country ought to give you the Bath for it. I shall take care this affair is generally known.'
And the poor army looked on with hot cheeks and envious eyes. But for Cecily, they might have been heroes, too!
Even Hazel seemed to have understood that a really brilliant victory had been achieved; she brought Tinling a magnificent flag of pink glazed calico, on which she had painted in crimson letters: 'Indians' Terror.'
'I did not think of making the motto "Seven at one blow,"' she said, with a mischievous dimple.
'I like the other best,' said the General, unsuspectingly.
Jack and Guy went down to the camp as usual, but for some time they were in very low spirits, in spite of their commander's well-meant efforts to raise them.
'You'll do better next time,' he said kindly.
'But we've told you over and over again how it was!' they would exclaim.
'Yes, I know, I know. It's all right. I'm not complaining: I never expected you to be as cool as I was, your first time.' But even this did not seem to console the army to any large extent; they hunched their shoulders and kicked pebbles about with great apparent interest.
The fact was, they could not help seeing that they had lost their prestige. It was true that their mother and elder sister at least (in spite of the flag) did not seem to treat the past danger with all the seriousnessit deserved. It even struck Jack and Guy sometimes that they were under the delusion that the whole thing had been only a new development of the game. But as the General said: 'Even if that were so, it was kinder not to undeceive them. He certainly was contented to leave them in their error; he knew well enough what he had had to go through—he did not like even now to think of his despair when he found he would have to face the danger all alone.'
He was always making the army writhe by little unintentional reminders of this kind, and they had cruel misgivings that Uncle Lambert, though he was always quite kind and encouraging, did not in his heart believe that their unfortunate absence in the hour of peril was quite an accident on their part.
How they longed for an opportunity of wiping out their disgrace, and how their hearts sank when Tinling, from the depths of his experience, declared it very improbable that the attack would ever again be renewed. In the school-stories, the good boy who refuses to fight when he is kicked, and is sent to Coventry as a coward, always gets a speedy chance to clear his character. Someone (generally the very boy who kicked him) falls into a mill-stream, or a convenient horse runs away, or else a mad but considerate bull comes into the playground—and the good boy is always at hand to dive, or hang on to the bridle and be dragged several yards in the dust, or slowly retreat backwards, throwing down first his hatand then his coat to amuse and detain the infuriated bull.
But out of stories, unfortunately, as even Jack and Guy dimly perceived, things are not always arranged so satisfactorily. They might have to wait for weeks, perhaps months or years, before Uncle Lambert fell into the fish-pond—and, even if he did, he could probably swim better than they could. Then they were neither of them sure that they could successfully stop a runaway horse, or a maniac bull, without a little more practice than they had had as yet.
However, Fortune was kind, and took pity on them in a most unexpected manner. For one morning, soon after breakfast, when Hazel was practising in the music-room, and Hilary and Cecily feeding their rabbits, Jack came up in a highly-excited state of mind to the verandah where his officer was seated doing nothing in particular. 'General,' he said, with a very creditable salute, 'do come down to the camp at once.'
'Oh, bother!' said the veteran warrior, who had, by the way, shown rather a tendency to rest on his laurels of late.
'No, but it isn't humbug, really,' protested Jack; 'it's something you'll like awfully.'
The General marched down in a very stately manner; it would have been undignified to run, eager as he was to get down to the stockade, thinking it notunlikely that Lintoft, the carpenter, really had found time to make a cannon for them after all, or, at the very least, that there would be some change in the internal arrangements of the stronghold which it would be his duty as superior officer to criticise, if not condemn.
Now it must be explained here that, during the last two or three days, the outside wall of the fort had been placarded with various bills, all glorying in the recent repulse of the enemy by a single-handed defender, and containing most insulting reflections on the courage of Red Indians as a race; while, in case they might not have enough knowledge of English to understand these taunts, they were accompanied by sketches which were certainly scathing enough to infuriate the least susceptible savage.
To do Clarence justice, they were not due to any elation on his part, but had all been executed by the army in the wild hope that they might thus stir up the foe to a fresh demonstration, when they themselves might recover their lost spurs.
These placards, as Clarence found on reaching the stockade, had been scrawled over with a kind of red and yellow paint so as to be quite illegible.
'Ochre,' said Guy; 'but that's not the best of it, for we found this pinned with an arrow to one of the posts.' And he produced a thin strip of white bark, on which were writing and drawings in crimson. 'They must have done it with their own blood,'commented Jack, with great gusto; 'but read it—do read it.'
Clarence did not need a second invitation to read the document, which was as follows:—
'Wah Na Sa Pash Boo(Yellow Vulture),Chief of Black Bogallala Tribe, to the Great White Chief, Tin Lin,Defiance.'The wigwam of Yellow Vulture wants but one ornament—the scalp of the white chief. Yellow Vulture has seen the taunts calling the red warriors "women with the hearts of deer." He will show the Paleface that the anger of the dusky ones is a big heap-lot terrible. When the sun has set behind the hills, and the stars light their watch-fires, then will Yellow Vulture and his braves be at hand. The scalp of the Paleface shall adorn the tepee of the Red Man.'Wah-Wah!'
'Wah Na Sa Pash Boo(Yellow Vulture),
Chief of Black Bogallala Tribe, to the Great White Chief, Tin Lin,Defiance.
'The wigwam of Yellow Vulture wants but one ornament—the scalp of the white chief. Yellow Vulture has seen the taunts calling the red warriors "women with the hearts of deer." He will show the Paleface that the anger of the dusky ones is a big heap-lot terrible. When the sun has set behind the hills, and the stars light their watch-fires, then will Yellow Vulture and his braves be at hand. The scalp of the Paleface shall adorn the tepee of the Red Man.
'Wah-Wah!'
In order that there should be no possible mistake about the intention, the message was supplemented by a rude representation of the process of scalping, evidently the work of a practised hand.
'Didn't I tell you we had something jolly to show you!' exclaimed Jack.
But joy, or some equally powerful emotion, rendered the General incapable of speaking for several moments.
It was some little time before Clarence Tinling gave any opinion upon this bloodthirsty document. He turned exceedingly red, and examined it suspiciously on both sides. It seemed as if he did not altogether welcome this second opportunity for distinguishing himself. When he spoke it was with a sort of angry anxiety.
'You think yourselves very clever, I dare say,' he said; 'but you needn't fancy you'll take me in! Come, you had better say so at once—you did this yourselves? It is not half bad—I will say that for it.'
'That we didn't,' cried Guy. 'Why, just look at it, Tinling. Any one could see that it's an Indian's doing. No, it's all right; they really are coming.'
'It's all skittles, I tell you,' said Clarence, still more angrily, though he was paler again now. 'What should Indians come here for?'
'Well, he says why, there,' said Jack, 'and they came the other evening.'
Clarence's colour rose again. 'That's different,' he said; 'I mean, it's not the same tribe.'
'No, these are Black Bogallalas,' said Jack. 'What were the first ones, Tinling?'
'I didn't ask them,' said the General shortly.
'How many braves should you think Wah NaWhat's-his-name will bring?' asked Guy. 'As many as came the other evening? How many did come the first time?'
'Do you think I had nothing better to do than count?' he retorted. 'Is there anything else you would like to know?'
'Well, we'll hang out the lantern to-night, and watch how many come inside its rays,' said Jack, with a briskness which displeased his chief.
'You wouldn't be quite so jolly cheerful over it if you knew what it was like!' he grumbled.
'Why not?' said Guy. 'You beat the others easily enough by yourself, and we shall be three this time.'
'Oh, it's all very fine to talk,' retorted the General; 'but we shall see what your mother and uncle say about it. They—they may think we ought not to take any notice of it.'
Jack's eyes opened wide at this. 'Not take any notice of an attack by Black Bogallalas! I don't see how we can very well help noticing it!'
'It all depends on what Mrs. Jolliffe says,' replied the conscientious General. 'I'm only a visitor here, and it wouldn't be the right thing for me to lead you into danger without leave.'
'Well, you weren't so particular the first time the Indians came!' remarked Guy.
'Will you shut up about that first time!' the Commander burst out, in exasperation; 'it's thesecond time now—that is, if it isn't all humbug. That's what I mean to find out first—you stay here till I come back, will you?'
Taking the strip of bark with him, he went slowly up to the house. He had an uneasy feeling that the Indian's challenge was genuine enough, but he still hoped to have it pronounced a forgery. This may seem strange indeed to some, considering the courage of which he had already given proof, but I do not wish to make any further mystery, particularly as most of my readers will probably have already guessed the secret of this apparent contrast.
The fact is, then, that Clarence Tinling had the best of reasons for being cool and courageous on the previous occasion. Those Indians were entirely imaginary; he had written the warning himself, and instructed the coachman's boy to throw it over the stockade; the attack on the fort and the brilliant victory were an afterthought.
What had he done it for? That is rather difficult to explain—perhaps he hardly knew himself; he had a vague idea of proving to those disrespectful girls that enemies did exist, and that the protection of an Army was not to be despised.
Then when he found himself alone in the camp, the temptation to carry his invention further was too much for him; and after Jack and Guy and Cecily, and even Uncle Lambert himself, accepted his story without hesitation, and treated him as a hero—why,it would have looked so silly to explain then, and so he went through with it.
Lying is lying, whatever explanations and excuses may be made respecting it, and I am afraid it must be admitted that Tinling, if he began by a mere harmless device for giving a new turn to the game, ended by telling some very unmistakable lies.
Now he found himself in a most delicate position: what if an attack by Red Indians should really be quite possible? Mr. Lambert Jolliffe had certainly not seemed to see anything incredible in the former visit, and, though Clarence had not a very high opinion of his abilities, he was grown up, and was not likely to be misinformed on such a point as that—at all events, he was the best person to consult just then. As he expected, he found him under the big ilex on his back, with his after-breakfast pipe, no longer alight, between his lips.
'Mr. Jolliffe; I say, Mr. Jolliffe,' began Clarence.
Lambert Jolliffe sat up, and fixed his glass in one drowsy eye. 'Hullo, Sir Garnet—I beg your pardon, Lord Wolseley, I mean. You ought to hear what they're saying at the War Office, I can tell you!'
Praise is sweet, even when we do not deserve it, and Clarence felt a thrill of satisfaction at this somewhat vague tribute.
'I wanted to ask you,' he said, 'should you say that Red Indians were—well, common in England?'
'You have asked me a straightforward question,and I'll give you a straightforward answer,' was the reply. 'Till quite lately I should say they were absolutely unknown in this country.'
Clarence's face brightened; he felt quite fond of Uncle Lambert, and began to think him a particularly well-informed and entertaining person.
'Yes,' continued Uncle Lambert, thoughtfully, 'I must confess I thought it a little unlikely at first that you should have been annoyed by Red Indians; but, of course, when I remembered the Earl's Court Show, I saw at once that it was quite possible.' Clarence felt a cold qualm. He had, as we already know, seen Buffalo Bill's wonderful show, which, indeed, was responsible for much of his recent military enthusiasm. But till that moment, curiously enough, it had not occurred to him to connect the mysterious Wah Na Sa Pash Boo with the denizens of the Wild West whom he had seen careering about the immense arena at Earl's Court.
'Do you mean,' he said, with an effort, 'that you thought some of Buffalo Bill's Indians had managed toescape?'
'Well, I don't know any other way to account for such a thing. Do you?'
Clarence did not answer this question directly: 'But,' he objected desperately, 'those wereconvertedIndians. They went to church, and the Lyceum, and all that!'
Uncle Lambert shrugged his shoulders: 'Once anIndian always an Indian!' he said. 'They must have their fling now and then, I suppose, and then the old Adam crops up. And you see,' he added, 'it cropped up in that attack on you the other night. Fortunately for us, and indeed for the whole country, you were prepared for them—otherwise no one can tell what horrors we might not have seen.'
'We may—we may see them yet!' said the hero, gloomily. 'Just look at this, Mr. Jolliffe.'
Lambert took the bark from him, and read it with a thoughtful frown. At last he said:
'Well, I rather expected something of this sort when I saw you posting up all those insulting notices—Indians are so confoundedly touchy, you know.'
'You might have said that at the time, then!' exclaimed the General reproachfully.
Lambert lifted his eyebrows.
'My dear chap, I thought you knew. Wasn't that what you were all driving at?'
'Not me,' said Clarence. 'I was against it from the first. I told them it was caddish to insult a fallen foe, but they would go and stick up thosebeastlynotices.'
'All's well that ends well, eh? You've got a rise out of 'em this time. I congratulate you, my boy, on getting the chance of a second brush with the Indians. And this time you'll have the army with you.'
'A lot of good they are!' said Clarence, in a muffled voice.
'Come, it's not good form for a General to run down his troops; but you heroes are always so modest. I'll be bound, now, you've determined not to mention this in the house till the danger is passed?'
'No, I haven't, though. I shall mention it, most likely. Why not?'
'To save them useless anxiety. Because, unless I am wrong, you see cause to apprehend (I must ask you not to conceal anything from me)—to apprehend that this will be a more serious affair than the last?'
'Yes, I do,' replied the General, promptly, 'a good deal.'
'I feared as much,' said Uncle Lambert, with a very grave face. 'But in that case, isn't it as well not to terrify my sister and those poor girls unnecessarily?'
'I don't see that. Mrs. Jolliffe might think we ought to be guarding the inside of the house.'
'Oh,' said Uncle Lambert, 'but I should object to that strongly. You see it's very plain that it'syouthe Yellow Vulture's after. He won't think of coming near the house unless you're in it, and then what will become of us all?'
'You'll take care you don't get mixed up in it, I can see,' said Tinling, savagely.
'I shall take very good care indeed. Oh, but you must make allowances for me, my boy. Remember, I've not been in military training for days and days, as you have.'
'If that's all, I could get you up in the drill in half-an-hour,' proposed Tinling, eagerly.
'Thanks, but I have a better reason still. Tastes differ so much. You like to spend your evenings in beating off wild Indians from a stockade. Now, I prefer a plain, comfortable dinner, and a quiet cigar. I'm not sure that your way isn't the manlier of the two—but it's not nearly so much in my line.'
'Why don't you say you're a funk, and have done with it?' Tinling said rudely.
'My dear young friend,' was the placid answer, 'if Providence has endowed you with a meed of personal courage beyond that of others, it is ungraceful to taunt those who are less fortunate. While I am by no means prepared to admit that I am what you so pleasingly term "a funk," I readily allow that——'
But Tinling did not stay to hear any more; he turned on his heel with an anger that had a spice of envy in it. Why, why had not he been content with an ordinary reputation, instead of one that he must sustain now at all hazards? He could deceive himself no longer; his foolish vanity, which had allowed the army to post those rash defiances, had brought down some real Red Indians upon him, and he was horribly afraid.
As he walked restlessly down the path, a veil seemed drawn across the brilliant sky, the dahlias and 'red-hot pokers' and gladioli in the beds burnt with a sinister glow, the smell of the sweet peas andmignonette seemed oppressive, the bees droning about the lavender patches had a note of warning in their buzz, he felt chilly in the shade and sick in the sun.
He saw nothing for it but fighting, but the idea of facing a horde of howling savages with only two boys younger than himself was too appalling; he must engage recruits, grown-up ones, and with this intention he went to the stable-yard, where he found Chinnock, the coachman, sluicing the carriage-wheels.
'Chinnock,' he began, with an attempt to seem casual and careless, 'we're going to be attacked by Red Indians again to-night.'
Chinnock touched a sandy forelock, as he raised his red grinning face.
'Lor', sir, be you indeed? Well, you young genl'men du have rare goings on down in the paddock, that you du.'
'It's—it's real Red Indians this time, Chinnock—B—black Bogallalas!'
Chinnock had deliberately moved to the harness-room, and Tinling had to repeat his information.
'Ah, indeed, sir! Red Injians? Well, to think o' that!' he said cheerfully, as if he was humouring some rather childish remark.
'But we shall want every available man; do you think you can spare time to come and help?'
''Bout what time, sir?' said Chinnock.
'About nine—half-past eight, say. Do try.'
'Can't come as late as that, nohow, sir. That'smy supper-hour, that is. If the mistress don't want the carriage to-day, I dessay I could step down 'bout five for half-an-hour or so, if that would suit.'
'That wouldn't be any use at all, Chinnock; we shan't begin till dark.'
'Then I'm afraid I can't be of no sarvice to 'ee, sir.'
The poor General turned away: evidently the coachman had no intention of risking his life. He remembered Joe, the gardener's boy and stable-help—he was better than no one. Joe was rolling the tennis-court, and grinned sheepishly on being pressed to join.
'Noa, sur,' he said, 'it doan't lay in my work fur to fight no Injins. I see one onst at Reading Vair, I did, a nippin' about he wur, and a roarin'! I bain't goin' to hev naught to do with the likes o' he!'
Tinling saw only one hope left. If he could see Mrs. Jolliffe and tell her of the danger which threatened him, she might refuse permission to fight at all, or, at the very least, she would see that he had proper assistance. So into the house he went, and the first person he found was Hazel, who was knitting her pretty forehead over the Latin exercise which had been given her as a holiday task.
'I say, Hazel,' he said, with a trembling voice; but she interrupted him:
'Oh, perhaps you can help me. What's the Latin for "Balbus says it is all over with the General"?'
He shivered; it sounded so like an omen. 'No, but Hazel, listen,' he said; 'the Indians are coming again to-night.'
'If you're not going to talk sensibly,' said Hazel, 'go out this instant.'
He saw she was utterly unsympathetic, and he wandered on to the hall, which was used as a morning-room, where Hilary sat painting a pansy, and he broke the news to her in much the same words. She actually laughed, and she had been almost as frightened as Cecily when he had told her of the other Indians.
'You are too killing over those Red Indians!' she said. Privately, he thought that the Red Indians would do all the killing.
'You needn't laugh; it's true!' he said solemnly.
'Oh, of course!' said Hilary; 'but don't come so near, or you'll upset my glass of water.' Hilary, too, was hopeless; he was reduced to his last cards now, and came in upon Mrs. Jolliffe as she sat at her writing-table. She looked up with a sweet, vague smile.
'What is it now, dear boy?' she asked. 'I hope you are managing to amuse yourself.'
'I think I ought to tell you,' he said thickly, 'that a tribe of Bogallala Indians are going to storm our encampment this evening.'
Perhaps Mrs. Jolliffe was getting a little bored with military topics. 'Yes, yes,' she said absently,'that will be very nice, I'm sure. Don't be too late in coming in, there's good boys.'
'You don'tmindour being there?—there will be danger!' he said with meaning.
'Mind? Not in the very least, so long as you are enjoying yourself,' she said kindly.
There went one card: he had but one more. 'Could you let Corklett and George' (they were the butler and page respectively) 'come down to the camp about half-past eight? We should be so much safer if we had them with us.'
'What are you thinking of, Clarence? We dine at eight, remember; how can I send either of them down then? You really must be reasonable.'
Clarence was by no means an ill-mannered boy in general, but fear made him insolent at this.
'Of course, if you think your dinner is more important than us!' he burst out hotly.
'Clarence, I can't allow you to speak to me in that way. It is ridiculous for you to expect me to alter my arrangements to suit your convenience,' said Mrs. Jolliffe; 'leave the room, or I shall be really angry with you. I don't wish to hear any more—go.'
He went with a swelling heart, and in the garden he met Cecily. If he could only induce her to beg him not to risk his life again! He disclosed the situation as impressively as he could; but, alas! Cecily seemed perfectly tranquil.
'I'm not a bit afraid this time,' she said, 'because you beat them so easily before; there's only one thing, Clarence. You know I daren't lock the army in again—they've made it up; but theywereso cross over it! So I want you to promise to look after them.'
'I shall have enough to do to look after myself, I expect,' he answered roughly; 'you don't know what these Indians are.'
'Oh, but I do, Clarence; I saw them at the "Wild West." I thought they looked rather nice then. And you know you frightened them so before. You are so awfully brave—aren't you?'
'I—I don't think I feel quite so awfully brave as I did then,' he admitted.
'Ah, but you will. Jack and Guy will be quite safe with you. Good-bye; I'm going to get some mulberry-leaves for my silkworms.' And she ran off cheerfully.
It was his hard fate that everybody persisted in treating the affair in one of two ways—either they looked upon it as part of the army game, or else considered him such a champion, on the strength of his past exploits, that there was practically no danger even if a whole tribe of Redskins came to attack him.
Luncheon that day was a terrible meal for him. Uncle Lambert (though he was too great a coward to go near the fight himself) seemed very anxious thatthe defenders should be in good condition. 'Give yourself a chance, General,' he would say; 'another slice of this roly-poly pudding may just turn the scale between you and Yellow Vulture. Look at the army—they're victualling for a regular siege!'
But Clarence was quite unable to follow their example; he was annoyed with them for what he considered was 'showing off'—though he might have reflected that to consume three helpings of jam-and-suet in rapid succession was an almost impossible form of bravado.
The rest of the afternoon he spent in trying to lower the army's confidence by telling all the gruesome stories of Indian warfare he could think of; but he frightened himself a great deal more than them, and at last had to abandon the attempt in despair.
For Jack and Guy had no nerves to speak of; they were eager to clear their tarnished reputation, and the possibility of harm coming to them did not seem to present itself. They had formed rather a poor opinion of Buffalo Bill's Indians, whose yell turned out to be very little more than short yelps, and who ran away directly a Cowboy showed his nose. Hadn't Clarence defeated them with ease already? What Clarence had done alone they surely could do together, and then they had an unbounded belief in the impregnable character of their stockade.
Tinling found that he could not undeceive them without exposing himself, which he would still ratherdie than do, and he roamed about the grounds, making a little mental calculation whenever a clock struck in the heavy afternoon stillness: 'In so many hours from this I shall be fighting hand-to-hand with real Indians!'
Then at tea-time he thought (for the first time) the smell of cake quite detestable, and he hardly knew how he forced himself to sit quietly on his chair.
'General Tinling,' said Uncle Lambert, 'before you, so to speak, "go to the front" and occupy the post of danger, will you oblige me by drawing up the troops before the verandah? I should like, though unable to accompany you myself, to say a few words of farewell.'
Clarence sulkily acquiesced, and Lambert Jolliffe addressed the army: 'Soldiers,' he said, 'a great responsibility rests upon you this day. You are expected solemnly and earnestly to strive your utmostnotto