Part 8 (1/2)

Wargrave entered the big, colour-washed room. The Colonel was seated at his desk, frowning at a paper before him, and did not look up. Major Hepburn was standing behind his chair and glanced commiseratingly at the subaltern.

Frank stood to attention and saluted.

”Good morning, sir,” he said. ”You wanted to see me?”

Colonel Trevor did not reply, but turning slightly in his chair, said:

”Major Hepburn, call in the adjutant, please.”

As the Second in Command went out on the verandah and summoned Raymond, Wargrave's heart misgave him. He had no idea of what the matter was; but the Colonel's manner and the presence of the Second in Command were ominous signs. He wondered what crime he was going to be charged with.

”Shut the doors, Raymond,” said the Commanding Officer curtly, as the adjutant entered. The latter did so and sat down at his writing-table, glancing anxiously at his friend.

Colonel Trevor's lips were twitching nervously; and he seemed to experience a difficulty in finding his voice. At last he took up a paper from his desk and said:

”Mr. Wargrave, this is a telegram just received from Western Army Head Quarters. It says 'Lieutenant Wargrave is appointed to No. 12 Battalion, Frontier Military Police. Direct him to proceed forthwith to report to O.C. Detachment, Ranga Duar, Eastern Bengal.'”

CHAPTER V

SENTENCE OF EXILE

At the words of the telegram Raymond started and Frank stared in bewilderment at the Colonel.

”But I never asked for the Military Police, sir,” he exclaimed. ”I----”

The Colonel licked his dry lips and, working himself up into a pa.s.sion, shouted:

”No, you didn't. But I did. I applied for you to be sent to it. I asked for you to be transferred from this station. You can ask yourself the reason why. I will not tolerate conduct such as yours, sir. I will not have an officer like you under my command.”

Frank flushed deeply.

”I beg your pardon, sir. I don't understand. I really don't know what I've done. I should----”

But the Colonel burst in furiously:

”He says he doesn't know what he's done, Major Hepburn. Listen to that!

He does not know what he's done”; and the speaker pounded on the desk with his clenched fist, working himself up into a rage, as a weak man will do when he has to carry out an unpleasant task.

”But, sir, surely I have a right----,” began Wargrave, clenching his hands until the nails were almost driven into his palms in an effort to keep his temper.

”I cannot argue the question with you, Wargrave,” said the Colonel loftily. ”You have got your orders. Headquarters approve of my action. I have discussed the matter with my Second in Command, and he agrees with me. You can go. Raymond, make out the necessary warrants for Mr.

Wargrave's journey and give him an advance of a month's pay. He will leave to-morrow. Tell the Quartermaster to make the necessary arrangements.”

Frank bit his lip. His years of discipline and the respect for authority engrained in him since his entrance to Sandhurst kept the mutinous words back. He saluted punctiliously and, turning about smartly walked out of the Orderly Room. In the glaring suns.h.i.+ne he strode out of the compound and down the white, dusty road to his bungalow, his brain in a whirl, blind to everything, seeing neither the sepoys saluting him nor his _syce_ hurrying after him and dragging the pony by the bridle.

When he reached his house he entered the sitting-room and dropped into a chair. His ”boy” approached salaaming and asked if he should go to the Mess to order the Sahib's breakfast to be got ready. Wargrave waved him away impatiently.