Part 15 (1/2)

'These--things--Sir--are--are--very--un--pleasant,' said the general, adjusting the focus of the gla.s.s, and speaking slowly--though no Spanish dandy ever relished a bull-fight more than he an affair of the kind. He and old Bligh had witnessed no less than five--not counting this--in which officers of the R.I.A. were princ.i.p.al performers, from the same sung post of observation. The general, indeed, was conventionally supposed to know nothing of them, and to reprobate the practice itself with his whole soul. But somehow, when an affair of the sort came off on the Fifteen Acres, he always happened to drop in, at the proper moment, upon his old crony, the colonel, and they sauntered into the demi-bastion together, and quietly saw what was to be seen. It was Miss Becky Chattesworth who involved the poor general in this hypocrisy. It was not exactly her money; it was her force of will and unflinching audacity that established her control over an easy, harmless, plastic old gentleman.

'They are unpleasant--devilish unpleasant--somewhere in the body, I think, hey? they're stooping again, stooping again--eh?--_plaguy_ unpleasant, Sir (the general was thinking how Miss Becky's tongue would wag, and what she might not even _do_, if O'Flaherty died). Ha! on they go again, and a--Puddock--getting in--and that's Toole. He's not so much hurt--eh? He helped himself a good deal, you saw; but (taking heart of grace) when a quarrel does occur, Sir, I believe, after all, 'tis better off the stomach at once--a few pa.s.ses--you know--or the crack of a pistol--who's that got in--the priest--hey? by George!'

'Awkward if he dies a Papist,' said cynical old Bligh--the R.I.A. were Protestant by const.i.tution.

'That never happens in our corps, Sir,' said the general, haughtily; 'but, as I say, when a quarrel--does--occur--Sir--there, they're off at last; when it does occur--I say--heyday! what a thundering pace! a gallop, by George! that don't look well (a pause)--and--and--a--about what you were saying--you know he _couldn't_ die a Papist in our corps--no one does--no one ever _did_--it would be, you know--it would be a _trick_, Sir, and O'Flaherty's a gentleman; it _could_ not be--(he was thinking of Miss Becky again--she was so fierce on the Gunpowder Plot, the rising of 1642, and Jesuits in general, and he went on a little fl.u.s.tered); but then, Sir, as I was saying, though the thing has its uses----.'

'I'd like to know where society'd be without it,' interposed Bligh, with a sneer.

'Though it may have its uses, Sir; it's not a thing one can sit down and say is _right_--we _can't_!'

'I've heard your sister, Miss Becky, speak strongly on that point, too,'said Bligh.

'Ah! I dare say,' said the general, quite innocently, an coughing a little. This was a sore point with the hen-pecked warrior, and the grim scarcecrow by his side knew it, and grinned through his telescope; 'and you see--I say--eh! I think they're breaking up, a--and--I say--I--it seems all over--eh--and so, dear colonel, I must take my leave, and----.'

And after a lingering look, he shut up his gla.s.s, and walking thoughtfully back with his friend, said suddenly--

'And, now I think of it--it could not be _that_--Puddock, you know, would not suffer the priest to sit in the same coach with such a design--Puddock's a good officer, eh! and knows his duty.'

A few hours afterwards, General Chattesworth, having just dismounted outside the Artillery barracks, to his surprise, met Puddock and O'Flaherty walking leisurely in the street of Chapelizod. O'Flaherty looked pale and shaky, and rather wild; and the general returned his salute, looking deuced hard at him, and wondering all the time in what part of his body (in his phrase) 'he had got it;' and how the plague the doctors had put him so soon on his legs again.

'Ha, Lieutenant Puddock,' with a smile, which Puddock thought significant--'give you good-evening, Sir. Dr. Toole anywhere about, or have you seen Sturk?'

'No, he had not.'

The general wanted to hear by accident, or in confidence, all about it; and having engaged Puddock in talk, that officer followed by his side.

'I should be glad of the honour of your company, Lieutenant Puddock, to dinner this evening--Sturk comes, and Captain Cluffe, and this wonderful Mr. Dangerfield too, of whom we all heard so much at mess, at five o'clock, if the invitation's not too late.'

The lieutenant acknowledged and accepted, with a blush and a very low bow, his commanding officer's hospitality; in fact, there was a _tendre_ in the direction of Belmont, and little Puddock had inscribed in his private book many charming stanzas of various lengths and structures, in which the name of 'Gertrude' was of frequent recurrence.

'And--a--I say, Puddock--Lieutenant O'Flaherty, I thought--I--I thought, d'ye see, just now, eh? (he looked inquisitively, but there was no answer); I thought, I say, he looked devilish out of sorts, is he--a--_ill_?'

'He _was very_ ill, indeed, this afternoon, general; a sudden attack----'

The general looked quickly at Puddock's plump, consequential face; but there was no further light in it. 'He _was_ hurt then, I knew it'--he thought--'who's attending him--and why is he out--and was it a flesh-wound--or where was it?' all these questions silently, but vehemently, solicited an answer--and he repeated the last aloud, in a careless sort of way.

'And--a--Lieutenant Puddock, you were saying--a--tell me--now--_where_ was it?'

'In the park, general,' said Puddock, in perfect good faith.

'Eh? ah! in the park, was it? but I want to know, you know, what part of the body--d'ye see--the shoulder--or?----'

'The duodenum, Dr. Toole called it--just here, general,' and he pressed his fingers to what is vulgarly known as the 'pit' of his stomach.

'What, Sir, do you mean to say the pit of his stomach?' said the general, with more horror and indignation than he often showed.

'Yes, just about that point, general, and the pain was very violent indeed,' answered Puddock, looking with a puzzled stare at the general's stern and horrified countenance--an officer might have a pain in his stomach, he thought, without exciting all that emotion. Had he heard of the poison, and did he know more of the working of such things than, perhaps, the doctors did?

'And what in the name of Bedlam, Sir, does he mean by walking about the town with a hole through his--his what's his name? I'm hanged but I'll place him under arrest this moment,' the general thundered, and his little eyes swept the perspective this way and that, as if they would leap from their sockets, in search of the reckless O'Flaherty. 'Where's the adjutant, Sir?' he bellowed with a crimson scowl and a stamp, to the unoffending sentry.