Part 4 (2/2)
”Beg pardon; didn't know it was engaged,” he says lightly, as he stepped back; and then he stopped, for Lizzy called to him by his name.
”Please walk back with me to Mrs Maine's quarters,” she said softly; and once more holding her hand out to me, with her eyes cast down, she thanked me; and the question I had been asking myself--Did she love Harry Lant better than me?--was to my mind answered, and I gave a groan as I saw them walk off together, for it struck me then that they had engaged to meet in that room, only Harry Lant was late.
”Never mind,” I says to myself; ”I've done a comrade a good turn.” And then I thought more and more of there being a feeling in the blacks'
minds that their day was coming, or that ill-looking scoundrel would never have dared to insult a white woman in open day.
Ten minutes after, I was on my way to Captain Dyer, for, in spite of what Lizzy had said, I felt that, being under orders, it was my duty to report all that occurred with the blacks; for we might at any time have been under siege, and to have had unknown and treacherous enemies in the camp would have been ruin indeed.
”Well, Smith,” he said, smiling as I entered and saluted, ”what news of the enemy?”
”Not much, sir,” I said; what I had to tell going, as I have before hinted, very much against the grain. ”I was in one of the empty rooms on the south side, when I heard a scream, and running up, I found it was Miss Ross--”
”What!” he roared, in a voice that would have startled a stronger man than I.
”Miss Ross's maid, sir, with that black fellow Chunder, the mahout, trying to kiss her.”
”Well?” he said, with a black angry look overspreading his face.
”Well, sir,” I said, feeling quite red as I spoke, ”he kissed my fist instead--that's all.”
Captain Dyer began to walk up and down, playing with one of the b.u.t.tons on his breast, as was his way when eager and excited.
”Now, Smith,” he said at last, stopping short before me, ”what does that mean?”
”Mean, sir?” I said, feeling quite as excited as himself. ”Well, sir, if you ask me, I say that if it was in time of peace and quiet, it would only mean that it was a hit of his d.a.m.ned black--I beg your pardon, captain,” I says, stopping short, for, you see, it was quite time.
”Go on, Smith,” he said quietly.
”His black impudence, sir.”
”But, as it is not in time of peace and quiet, Smith?” he said, looking me through and through.
”Well, sir,” I said, ”I don't want to croak, nor for other people to believe what I say; but it seems to me that that black fellow's kicking out of the ranks means a good deal; and I take it that he is excited with the news that he has somehow got hold of--news that is getting into his head like so much green 'rack. I've thought of it some little time now, sir; and it strikes me that if, instead of our short company being Englishmen, they were all Chunder Chows, before to-morrow morning, begging your pardon, Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh would have said 'Right wheel' for the last time.”
”And the women and children!” he muttered softly; but I heard him.
He did not speak then for quite half a minute, when he turned to me with a pleasant smile.
”But you see, though, Smith,” he said, ”our short company is made up of different stuff; and therefore there's some hope for us yet; but--Ah, Leigh, did you hear what he said?”
”Yes,” said the lieutenant, who had been standing at the door for a few moments, scowling at as both.
”Well, what do you think?” said Captain Dyer.
”Think?” said Lieutenant Leigh contemptuously, as he turned away--”nothing!”
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