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Ch. 15: The Incarnation of Krishna Mulvaney

Wohl auf, my bully cavaliers,
We ride to church to-day,
The man that hasn't got a horse
Must steal one straight away.

Be reverent, men, remember
This is a Gottes haus.
Du, Conrad, cut along der aisle
And schenck der whiskey aus.

Once upon a time, very far from England, there lived three men who loved
each other so greatly that neither man nor woman could come between
them. They were in no sense refined, nor to be admitted to the outer-
door mats of decent folk, because they happened to be private soldiers
in Her Majesty's Army; and private soldiers of our service have small
time for self-culture. Their duty is to keep themselves and their
accoutrements specklessly clean, to refrain from getting drunk more
often than is necessary, to obey their superiors, and to pray for a war.
All these things my friends accomplished; and of their own motion threw
in some fighting-work for which the Army Regulations did not call. Their
fate sent them to serve in India, which is not a golden country, though
poets have sung otherwise. There men die with great swiftness, and those
who live suffer many and curious things. I do not think that my friends
concerned themselves much with the social or political aspects of the
East. They attended a not unimportant war on the northern frontier,
another one on our western boundary, and a third in Upper Burma. Then
their regiment sat still to recruit, and the boundless monotony of
cantonment life was their portion. They were drilled morning and evening
on the same dusty parade-ground. They wandered up and down the same
stretch of dusty white road, attended the same church and the same grog-
shop, and slept in the same lime-washed barn of a barrack for two long
years. There was Mulvaney, the father in the craft, who had served with
various regiments from Bermuda to Halifax, old in war, scarred,
reckless, resourceful, and in his pious hours an unequalled soldier. To
him turned for help and comfort six and a half feet of slow-moving,
heavy-footed Yorkshireman, born on the wolds, bred in the dales, and
educated chiefly among the carriers' carts at the back of York railway-
station. His name was Learoyd, and his chief virtue an unmitigated
patience which helped him to win fights. How Ortheris, a fox-terrier of
a Cockney, ever came to be one of the trio, is a mystery which even to-
day I cannot explain. 'There was always three av us,' Mulvaney used to
say. 'An' by the grace av God, so long as our service lasts, three av us
they'll always be. 'Tis betther so.'

They desired no companionship beyond their own, and it was evil for any
man of the regiment who attempted dispute with them. Physical argument
was out of the question as regarded Mulvaney and the Yorkshireman; and
assault on Ortheris meant a combined attack from these twain--a business
which no five men were anxious to have on their hands. Therefore they
flourished, sharing their drinks, their tobacco, and their money; good
luck and evil; battle and the chances of death; life and the chances of
happiness from Calicut in southern, to Peshawur in northern India.

Through no merit of my own it was my good fortune to be in a measure
admitted to their friendship--frankly by Mulvaney from the beginning,
sullenly and with reluctance by Learoyd, and suspiciously by Ortheris,
who held to it that no man not in the Army could fraternise with a red-
coat. 'Like to like,' said he. 'I'm a bloomin' sodger--he's a bloomin'
civilian. 'Tain't natural--that's all.'

But that was not all. They thawed progressively, and in the thawing told
me more of their lives and adventures than I am ever likely to write.

Omitting all else, this tale begins with the Lamentable Thirst that was
at the beginning of First Causes. Never was such a thirst--Mulvaney told
me so. They kicked against their compulsory virtue, but the attempt was
only successful in the case of Ortheris. He, whose talents were many,
went forth into the highways and stole a dog from a 'civilian'--
videlicet, some one, he knew not who, not in the Army. Now that civilian
was but newly connected by marriage with the colonel of the regiment,
and outcry was made from quarters least anticipated by Ortheris, and, in
the end, he was forced, lest a worse thing should happen, to dispose at
ridiculously unremunerative rates of as promising a small terrier as
ever graced one end of a leading string. The purchase-money was barely
sufficient for one small outbreak which led him to the guard-room. He
escaped, however, with nothing worse than a severe reprimand, and a few
hours of punishment drill. Not for nothing had he acquired the
reputation of being 'the best soldier of his inches' in the regiment.
Mulvaney had taught personal cleanliness and efficiency as the first
articles of his companions' creed. 'A dhirty man,' he was used to say,
in the speech of his kind, 'goes to Clink for a weakness in the knees,
an' is coort-martialled for a pair av socks missin'; but a clane man,
such as is an ornament to his service--a man whose buttons are gold,
whose coat is wax upon him, an' whose 'coutrements are widout a speck--
THAT man may, spakin' in reason, do fwhat he likes an' dhrink from day
to divil. That's the pride av bein' dacint.'

We sat together, upon a day, in the shade of a ravine far from the
barracks, where a watercourse used to run in rainy weather. Behind us
was the scrub jungle, in which jackals, peacocks, the gray wolves of the
North-Western Provinces, and occasionally a tiger estrayed from Central
India, were supposed to dwell. In front lay the cantonment, glaring
white under a glaring sun; and on either side ran the broad road that
led to Delhi.

It was the scrub that suggested to my mind the wisdom of Mulvaney taking
a day's leave and going upon a shooting-tour. The peacock is a holy bird
throughout India, and he who slays one is in danger of being mobbed by
the nearest villagers; but on the last occasion that Mulvaney had gone
forth, he had contrived, without in the least offending local religious
susceptibilities, to return with six beautiful peacock skins which he
sold to profit. It seemed just possible then--

'But fwhat manner av use is ut to me goin' out widout a dhrink? The
ground's powdher-dhry underfoot, an' ut gets unto the throat fit to
kill,' wailed Mulvaney, looking at me reproachfully. 'An' a peacock is
not a bird you can catch the tail av onless ye run. Can a man run on
wather--an' jungle-wather too?'

Ortheris had considered the question in all its bearings. He spoke,
chewing his pipe-stem meditatively the while:

'Go forth, return in glory,
To Clusium's royal 'ome:
An' round these bloomin' temples 'ang
The bloomin' shields o' Rome.

You better go. You ain't like to shoot yourself--not while there's a
chanst of liquor. Me an' Learoyd'll stay at 'ome an' keep shop--'case o'
anythin' turnin' up. But you go out with a gas-pipe gun an' ketch the
little peacockses or somethin'. You kin get one day's leave easy as
winkin'. Go along an' get it, an' get peacockses or somethin'.'

'Jock,' said Mulvaney, turning to Learoyd, who was half asleep under the
shadow of the bank. He roused slowly.

'Sitha, Mulvaaney, go,' said he.

And Mulvaney went; cursing his allies with Irish fluency and barrack-
room point.

'Take note,' said he, when he had won his holiday, and appeared dressed
in his roughest clothes with the only other regimental fowling-piece in
his hand. 'Take note, Jock, an' you Orth'ris, I am goin' in the face av
my own will--all for to please you. I misdoubt anythin' will come av
permiscuous huntin' afther peacockses in a desolit lan'; an' I know that
I will lie down an' die wid thirrrst. Me catch peacockses for you, ye
lazy scutts--an' be sacrificed by the peasanthry--Ugh!'

He waved a huge paw and went away.

At twilight, long before the appointed hour, he returned empty-handed,
much begrimed with dirt.

'Peacockses?' queried Ortheris from the safe rest of a barrack-room
table whereon he was smoking cross-legged, Learoyd fast asleep on a

'Jock,' said Mulvaney without answering, as he stirred up the sleeper.
'Jock, can ye fight? Will ye fight?'

Very slowly the meaning of the words communicated itself to the half-
roused man. He understood--and again--what might these things mean?
Mulvaney was shaking him savagely. Meantime the men in the room howled
with delight. There was war in the confederacy at last--war and the
breaking of bonds.

Barrack-room etiquette is stringent. On the direct challenge must follow
the direct reply. This is more binding than the ties of tried
friendship. Once again Mulvaney repeated the question. Learoyd answered
by the only means in his power, and so swiftly that the Irishman had
barely time to avoid the blow. The laughter around increased. Learoyd
looked bewilderedly at his friend--himself as greatly bewildered.
Ortheris dropped from the table because his world was falling.

'Come outside,' said Mulvaney, and as the occupants of the barrack-room
prepared joyously to follow, he turned and said furiously, 'There will
be no fight this night--onless any wan av you is wishful to assist. The
man that does, follows on.'

No man moved. The three passed out into the moonlight, Learoyd fumbling
with the buttons of his coat. The parade-ground was deserted except for
the scurrying jackals. Mulvaney's impetuous rush carried his companions
far into the open ere Learoyd attempted to turn round and continue the

'Be still now. 'Twas my fault for beginnin' things in the middle av an
end, Jock. I should ha' comminst wid an explanation; but Jock, dear, on
your sowl are ye fit, think you, for the finest fight that iver was--
betther than fightin' me? Considher before ye answer.'

More than ever puzzled, Learoyd turned round two or three times, felt an
arm, kicked tentatively, and answered, 'Ah'm fit.' He was accustomed to
fight blindly at the bidding of the superior mind.

They sat them down, the men looking on from afar, and Mulvaney untangled
himself in mighty words.

'Followin' your fools' scheme I wint out into the thrackless desert
beyond the barricks. An' there I met a pious Hindu dhriving a bullock-
kyart. I tuk ut for granted he wud be delighted for to convoy me a
piece, an' I jumped in--'

'You long, lazy, black-haired swine,' drawled Ortheris, who would have
done the same thing under similar circumstances.

''Twas the height av policy. That naygur-man dhruv miles an' miles--as
far as the new railway line they're buildin' now back av the Tavi river.
"'Tis a kyart for dhirt only," says he now an' again timoreously, to get
me out av ut. "Dhirt I am," sez I, "an' the dhryest that you iver
kyarted. Dhrive on, me son, an glory be wid you." At that I wint to
slape, an' took no heed till he pulled up on the embankmint av the line
where the coolies were pilin' mud. There was a matther av two thousand
coolies on that line--you remimber that. Prisintly a bell rang, an' they
throops off to a big pay-shed. "Where's the white man in charge?" sez I
to my kyart-dhriver. "In the shed," sez he, "engaged on a riffle."--"A
fwhat?" sez I. "Riffle," sez he. "You take ticket. He take money. You
get nothin'."--

"Oho!" sez I, "that's fwhat the shuperior an' cultivated man calls a
raffle, me misbeguided child av darkness an' sin. Lead on to that
raffle, though fwhat the mischief 'tis doin' so far away from uts home--
which is the charity-bazaar at Christmas, an' the colonel's wife
grinnin' behind the tea-table--is more than I know." Wid that I wint to
the shed an' found 'twas pay-day among the coolies. Their wages was on a
table forninst a big, fine, red buck av a man--sivun fut high, four fut
wide, an' three fut thick, wid a fist on him like a corn-sack. He was
payin' the coolies fair an' easy, but he wud ask each man if he wud
raffle that month, an' each man sez? "Yes," av course. Thin he wud
deduct from their wages accordin'. Whin all was paid, he filled an ould
cigar-box full av gun-wads an' scatthered ut among the coolies. They did
not take much joy av that performince, an' small wondher. A man close to
me picks up a black gun-wad an' sings out, "I have ut."--"Good may ut do
you," sez I. The coolie wint forward to this big, fine, red man, who
threw a cloth off av the most sumpshus, jooled, enamelled an' variously
bedivilled sedan-chair I iver saw.'

'Sedan-chair! Put your 'ead in a bag. That was a palanquin. Don't yer
know a palanquin when you see it?' said Ortheris with great scorn.

'I chuse to call ut sedan-chair, an' chair ut shall be, little man,'
continued the Irishman. ''Twas a most amazin' chair--all lined wid pink
silk an' fitted wid red silk curtains. "Here ut is," sez the red man.
"Here ut is," sez the coolie, an' he grinned weakly-ways. "Is ut any use
to you?" sez the red man. "No," sez the coolie; "I'd like to make a
presint av ut to you."--"I am graciously pleased to accept that same,"
sez the red man; an' at that all the coolies cried aloud in fwhat was
mint for cheerful notes, an' wint back to their diggin', lavin' me alone
in the shed. The red man saw me, an' his face grew blue on his big, fat
neck. "Fwhat d'you want here?" sez he. "Standin'-room an' no more," sez
I, "onless it may be fwhat ye niver had, an' that's manners, ye rafflin'
ruffian," for I was not goin' to have the Service throd upon. "Out of
this," sez he. "I'm in charge av this section av construction."--"I'm in
charge av mesilf," sez I, "an' it's like I will stay a while. D'ye
raffle much in these parts?"--"Fwhat's that to you?" sez he. "Nothin',"
sez I, "but a great dale to you, for begad I'm thinkin' you get the full
half av your revenue from that sedan-chair. Is ut always raffled so?" I
sez, an' wid that I wint to a coolie to ask questions. Bhoys, that man's
name is Dearsley, an' he's been rafflin' that ould sedan-chair monthly
this matther av nine months. Ivry coolie on the section takes a ticket--
or he gives 'em the go--wanst a month on pay-day. Ivry coolie that wins
ut gives ut back to him, for 'tis too big to carry away, an' he'd sack
the man that thried to sell ut. That Dearsley has been makin' the
rowlin' wealth av Roshus by nefarious rafflin'. Think av the burnin'
shame to the sufferin' coolie-man that the army in Injia are bound to
protect an' nourish in their bosoms! Two thousand coolies defrauded
wanst a month!'

'Dom t' coolies. Has't gotten t' cheer, man?' said Learoyd.

'Hould on. Havin' onearthed this amazin' an' stupenjus fraud committed
by the man Dearsley, I hild a council av war; he thryin' all the time to
sejuce me into a fight with opprobrious language. That sedan-chair niver
belonged by right to any foreman av coolies. 'Tis a king's chair or a
quane's. There's gold on ut an' silk an' all manner av trapesemints.
Bhoys, 'tis not for me to countenance any sort av wrong-doin'--me bein'
the ould man--but--anyway he has had ut nine months, an' he dare not
make throuble av ut was taken from him. Five miles away, or ut may be

There was a long pause, and the jackals howled merrily. Learoyd bared
one arm, and contemplated it in the moonlight. Then he nodded partly to
himself and partly to his friends. Ortheris wriggled with suppressed

'I thought ye wud see the reasonableness av ut,' said Mulvaney. 'I made
bould to say as much to the man before. He was for a direct front
attack--fut, horse, an' guns--an' all for nothin', seein' that I had no
thransport to convey the machine away. "I will not argue wid you," sez
I, "this day, but subsequently, Mister Dearsley, me rafflin' jool, we
talk ut out lengthways. 'Tis no good policy to swindle the naygur av his
hard-earned emolumints, an' by presint informashin'"--'twas the kyart
man that tould me--"ye've been perpethrating that same for nine months.
But I'm a just man," sez I, "an' overlookin' the presumpshin that
yondher settee wid the gilt top was not come by honust"--at that he
turned sky-green, so I knew things was more thrue than tellable--"not
come by honust, I'm willin' to compound the felony for this month's

'Ah! Ho!' from Learoyd and Ortheris.

'That man Dearsley's rushin' on his fate,' continued Mulvaney, solemnly
wagging his head. 'All Hell had no name bad enough for me that tide.
Faith, he called me a robber! Me! that was savin' him from continuin' in
his evil ways widout a remonstrince--an' to a man av conscience a
remonstrince may change the chune av his life. "'Tis not for me to
argue," sez I, "fwhatever ye are, Mister Dearsley, but, by my hand, I'll
take away the temptation for you that lies in that sedan-chair."--"You
will have to fight me for ut," sez he, "for well I know you will never
dare make report to any one."--"Fight I will," sez I, "but not this day,
for I'm rejuced for want av nourishment."--"Ye're an ould bould hand,"
sez he, sizin' me up an' down; "an' a jool av a fight we will have. Eat
now an' dhrink, an' go your way." Wid that he gave me some hump an'
whisky--good whisky--an' we talked av this an' that the while. "It goes
hard on me now," sez I, wipin' my mouth, "to confiscate that piece av
furniture, but justice is justice."--"Ye've not got ut yet," sez he;
"there's the fight between."--"There is," sez I, "an' a good fight. Ye
shall have the pick av the best quality in my rigimint for the dinner
you have given this day." Thin I came hot-foot to you two. Hould your
tongue, the both. 'Tis this way. To-morrow we three will go there an' he
shall have his pick betune me an' Jock. Jock's a deceivin' fighter, for
he is all fat to the eye, an' he moves slow. Now, I'm all beef to the
look, an' I move quick. By my reckonin' the Dearsley man won't take me;
so me an' Orth'ris 'll see fair play. Jock, I tell you,'twill be big
fightin'--whipped, wid the cream above the jam. Afther the business
'twill take a good three av us--Jock 'll be very hurt--to haul away that

'Palanquin.' This from Ortheris.

'Fwhatever ut is, we must have ut. 'Tis the only sellin' piece av
property widin reach that we can get so cheap. An' fwhat's a fight
afther all? He has robbed the naygur-man, dishonust. We rob him honust
for the sake av the whisky he gave me.'

'But wot'll we do with the bloomin' article when we've got it? Them
palanquins are as big as 'ouses, an' uncommon 'ard to sell, as McCleary
said when ye stole the sentry-box from the Curragh.'

'Who's goin' to do t' fightin'?' said Learoyd, and Ortheris subsided.
The three returned to barracks without a word. Mulvaney's last argument
clinched the matter. This palanquin was property, vendible, and to be
attained in the simplest and least embarrassing fashion. It would
eventually become beer. Great was Mulvaney.

Next afternoon a procession of three formed itself and disappeared into
the scrub in the direction of the new railway line. Learoyd alone was
without care, for Mulvaney dived darkly into the future, and little
Ortheris feared the unknown. What befell at that interview in the lonely
pay-shed by the side of the half-built embankment, only a few hundred
coolies know, and their tale is confusing one, running thus--

'We were at work. Three men in red coats came. They saw the Sahib--
Dearsley Sahib. They made oration; and noticeably the small man among
the red-coats. Dearsley Sahib also made oration, and used many very
strong words. Upon this talk they departed together to an open space,
and there the fat man in the red coat fought with Dearsley Sahib after
the custom of white men--with his hands, making no noise, and never at
all pulling Dearsley Sahib's hair. Such of us as were not afraid beheld
these things for just so long a time as a man needs to cook the mid-day
meal. The small man in the red coat had possessed himself of Dearsley
Sahib's watch. No, he did not steal that watch. He held it in his hand,
and at certain seasons made outcry, and the twain ceased their combat,
which was like the combat of young bulls in spring. Both men were soon
all red, but Dearsley Sahib was much more red than the other. Seeing
this, and fearing for his life--because we greatly loved him--some fifty
of us made shift to rush upon the red-coats. But a certain man--very
black as to the hair, and in no way to be confused with the small man,
or the fat man who fought--that man, we affirm, ran upon us, and of us
he embraced some ten or fifty in both arms, and beat our heads together,
so that our livers turned to water, and we ran away. It is not good to
interfere in the fightings of white men. After that Dearsley Sahib fell
and did not rise, these men jumped upon his stomach and despoiled him of
all his money, and attempted to fire the pay-shed, and departed. Is it
true that Dearsley Sahib makes no complaint of these latter things
having been done? We were senseless with fear, and do not at all
remember. There was no palanquin near the pay-shed. What do we know
about palanquins? Is it true that Dearsley Sahib does not return to this
place, on account of his sickness, for ten days? This is the fault of
those bad men in the red coats, who should be severely punished; for
Dearsley Sahib is both our father and mother, and we love him much. Yet,
if Dearsley Sahib does not return to this place at all, we will speak
the truth. There was a palanquin, for the up-keep of which we were
forced to pay nine-tenths of our monthly wage. On such mulctings
Dearsley Sahib allowed us to make obeisance to him before the palanquin.
What could we do? We were poor men. He took a full half of our wages.
Will the Government repay us those moneys? Those three men in red coats
bore the palanquin upon their shoulders and departed. All the money that
Dearsley Sahib had taken from us was in the cushions of that palanquin.
Therefore they stole it. Thousands of rupees were there--all our money.
It was our bank-box, to fill which we cheerfully contributed to Dearsley
Sahib three-sevenths of our monthly wage. Why does the white man look
upon us with the eye of disfavour? Before God, there was a palanquin,
and now there is no palanquin; and if they send the police here to make
inquisition, we can only say that there never has been any palanquin.
Why should a palanquin be near these works? We are poor men, and we know

Such is the simplest version of the simplest story connected with the
descent upon Dearsley. From the lips of the coolies I received it.
Dearsley himself was in no condition to say anything, and Mulvaney
preserved a massive silence, broken only by the occasional licking of
the lips. He had seen a fight so gorgeous that even his power of speech
was taken from him. I respected that reserve until, three days after the
affair, I discovered in a disused stable in my quarters a palanquin of
unchastened splendour--evidently in past days the litter of a queen. The
pole whereby it swung between the shoulders of the bearers was rich with
the painted papier-mache of Cashmere. The shoulder-pads were of yellow
silk. The panels of the litter itself were ablaze with the loves of all
the gods and goddesses of the Hindu Pantheon--lacquer on cedar. The
cedar sliding doors were fitted with hasps of translucent Jaipur enamel
and ran in grooves shod with silver. The cushions were of brocaded Delhi
silk, and the curtains which once hid any glimpse of the beauty of the
king's palace were stiff with gold. Closer investigation showed that the
entire fabric was everywhere rubbed and discoloured by time and wear;
but even thus it was sufficiently gorgeous to deserve housing on the
threshold of a royal zenana. I found no fault with it, except that it
was in my stable. Then, trying to lift it by the silver-shod shoulder-
pole, I laughed. The road from Dearsley's pay-shed to the cantonment was
a narrow and uneven one, and, traversed by three very inexperienced
palanquin-bearers, one of whom was sorely battered about the head, must
have been a path of torment. Still I did not quite recognise the right
of the three musketeers to turn me into a 'fence' for stolen property.

'I'm askin' you to warehouse ut,' said Mulvaney when he was brought to
consider the question. 'There's no steal in ut. Dearsley tould us we cud
have ut if we fought. Jock fought--an', oh, sorr, when the throuble was
at uts finest an' Jock was bleedin' like a stuck pig, an' little
Orth'ris was shquealin' on one leg chewin' big bites out av Dearsley's
watch, I wud ha' given my place at the fight to have had you see wan
round. He tuk Jock, as I suspicioned he would, an' Jock was deceptive.
Nine roun's they were even matched, an' at the tenth--About that
palanquin now. There's not the least throuble in the world, or we wud
not ha' brought ut here. You will ondherstand that the Queen--God bless
her!--does not reckon for a privit soldier to kape elephints an'
palanquins an' sich in barricks. Afther we had dhragged ut down from
Dearsley's through that cruel scrub that near broke Orth'ris's heart, we
set ut in the ravine for a night; an' a thief av a porcupine an' a
civet-cat av a jackal roosted in ut, as well we knew in the mornin'. I
put ut to you, sorr, is an elegint palanquin, fit for the princess, the
natural abidin' place av all the vermin in cantonmints? We brought ut to
you, afther dhark, and put ut in your shtable. Do not let your
conscience prick. Think av the rejoicin' men in the pay-shed yonder--
lookin' at Dearsley wid his head tied up in a towel--an' well knowin'
that they can dhraw their pay ivry month widout stoppages for riffles.
Indirectly, sorr, you have rescued from an onprincipled son av a night-
hawk the peasanthry av a numerous village. An' besides, will I let that
sedan-chair rot on our hands? Not I. 'Tis not every day a piece av pure
joolry comes into the market. There's not a king widin these forty
miles'--he waved his hand round the dusty horizon--'not a king wud not
be glad to buy ut. Some day meself, whin I have leisure, I'll take ut up
along the road an' dishpose av ut.'

'How?' said I, for I knew the man was capable of anything.

'Get into ut, av coorse, and keep wan eye open through the curtains.
Whin I see a likely man av the native persuasion, I will descind
blushin' from my canopy and say, "Buy a palanquin, ye black scutt?" I
will have to hire four men to carry me first, though; and that's
impossible till next pay-day.'

Curiously enough, Learoyd, who had fought for the prize, and in the
winning secured the highest pleasure life had to offer him, was
altogether disposed to undervalue it, while Ortheris openly said it
would be better to break the thing up. Dearsley, he argued, might be a
many-sided man, capable, despite his magnificent fighting qualities, of
setting in motion the machinery of the civil law--a thing much abhorred
by the soldier. Under any circumstances their fun had come and passed;
the next pay-day was close at hand, when there would be beer for all.
Wherefore longer conserve the painted palanquin?

'A first-class rifle-shot an' a good little man av your inches you are,'
said Mulvaney. 'But you niver had a head worth a soft-boiled egg. 'Tis
me has to lie awake av nights schamin' an' plottin' for the three av us.
Orth'ris, me son, 'tis no matther av a few gallons av beer--no, nor
twenty gallons--but tubs an' vats an' firkins in that sedan-chair. Who
ut was, an' what ut was, an' how ut got there, we do not know; but I
know in my bones that you an' me an' Jock wid his sprained thumb will
get a fortune thereby. Lave me alone, an' let me think.'

Meantime the palanquin stayed in my stall, the key of which was in
Mulvaney's hands.

Pay-day came, and with it beer. It was not in experience to hope that
Mulvaney, dried by four weeks' drought, would avoid excess. Next morning
he and the palanquin had disappeared. He had taken the precaution of
getting three days' leave 'to see a friend on the railway,' and the
colonel, well knowing that the seasonal outburst was near, and hoping it
would spend its force beyond the limits of his jurisdiction, cheerfully
gave him all he demanded. At this point Mulvaney's history, as recorded
in the mess-room, stopped.

Ortheris carried it not much further. 'No, 'e wasn't drunk,' said the
little man loyally, 'the liquor was no more than feelin' its way round
inside of 'im; but 'e went an' filled that 'ole bloomin' palanquin with
bottles 'fore 'e went off. 'E's gone an' 'ired six men to carry 'im, an'
I 'ad to 'elp 'im into 'is nupshal couch, 'cause 'e wouldn't 'ear
reason. 'E's gone off in 'is shirt an' trousies, swearin' tremenjus--
gone down the road in the palanquin, wavin' 'is legs out o' windy.'

'Yes,' said I, 'but where?'

'Now you arx me a question. 'E said 'e was goin' to sell that palanquin,
but from observations what happened when I was stuffin' 'im through the
door, I fancy 'e's gone to the new embankment to mock at Dearsley. 'Soon
as Jock's off duty I'm goin' there to see if 'e's safe--not Mulvaney,
but t'other man. My saints, but I pity 'im as 'elps Terence out o' the
palanquin when 'e's once fair drunk!'

'He'll come back without harm,' I said.

''Corse 'e will. On'y question is, what 'll 'e be doin' on the road?
Killing Dearsley, like as not. 'E shouldn't 'a gone without Jock or me.'

Reinforced by Learoyd, Ortheris sought the foreman of the coolie-gang.
Dearsley's head was still embellished with towels. Mulvaney, drunk or
sober, would have struck no man in that condition, and Dearsley
indignantly denied that he would have taken advantage of the intoxicated

'I had my pick o' you two,' he explained to Learoyd, 'and you got my
palanquin--not before I'd made my profit on it. Why'd I do harm when
everything's settled? Your man DID come here--drunk as Davy's sow on a
frosty night--came a-purpose to mock me--stuck his head out of the door
an' called me a crucified hodman. I made him drunker, an' sent him
along. But I never touched him.'

To these things, Learoyd, slow to perceive the evidences of sincerity,
answered only, 'If owt comes to Mulvaaney 'long o' you, I'll gripple
you, clouts or no clouts on your ugly head, an' I'll draw t' throat
twistyways, man. See there now.'

The embassy removed itself, and Dearsley, the battered, laughed alone
over his supper that evening.

Three days passed--a fourth and a fifth. The week drew to a close and
Mulvaney did not return. He, his royal palanquin, and his six
attendants, had vanished into air. A very large and very tipsy soldier,
his feet sticking out of the litter of a reigning princess, is not a
thing to travel along the ways without comment. Yet no man of all the
country round had seen any such wonder. He was, and he was not; and
Learoyd suggested the immediate smashment of Dearsley as a sacrifice to
his ghost. Ortheris insisted that all was well, and in the light of past
experience his hopes seemed reasonable.

'When Mulvaney goes up the road,' said he, ''e's like to go a very long
ways up, specially when 'e's so blue drunk as 'e is now. But what gits
me is 'is not bein' 'eard of pullin' wool off the niggers somewheres
about. That don't look good. The drink must ha' died out in 'im by this,
unless 'e's broke a bank, an' then--Why don't 'e come back? 'E didn't
ought to ha' gone off without us.'

Even Ortheris's heart sank at the end of the seventh day, for half the
regiment were out scouring the country-side, and Learoyd had been forced
to fight two men who hinted openly that Mulvaney had deserted. To do him
justice, the colonel laughed at the notion, even when it was put forward
by his much-trusted adjutant.

'Mulvaney would as soon think of deserting as you would,' said he. 'No;
he's either fallen into a mischief among the villagers--and yet that
isn't likely, for he'd blarney himself out of the Pit; or else he is
engaged on urgent private affairs--some stupendous devilment that we
shall hear of at mess after it has been the round of the barrack-rooms.
The worst of it is that I shall have to give him twenty-eight days'
confinement at least for being absent without leave, just when I most
want him to lick the new batch of recruits into shape. I never knew a
man who could put a polish on young soldiers as quickly as Mulvaney can.
How does he do it?'

'With blarney and the buckle-end of a belt, sir,' said the adjutant. 'He
is worth a couple of non-commissioned officers when we are dealing with
an Irish draft, and the London lads seem to adore him. The worst of it
is that if he goes to the cells the other two are neither to hold nor to
bind till he comes out again. I believe Ortheris preaches mutiny on
those occasions, and I know that the mere presence of Learoyd mourning
for Mulvaney kills all the cheerfulness of his room. The sergeants tell
me that he allows no man to laugh when he feels unhappy. They are a
queer gang.'

'For all that, I wish we had a few more of them. I like a well-conducted
regiment, but these pasty-faced, shifty-eyed, mealy-mouthed young
slouchers from the depot worry me sometimes with their offensive virtue.
They don't seem to have backbone enough to do anything but play cards
and prowl round the married quarters. I believe I'd forgive that old
villain on the spot if he turned up with any sort of explanation that I
could in decency accept.'

'Not likely to be much difficulty about that, sir,' said the adjutant.
'Mulvaney's explanations are only one degree less wonderful than his
performances. They say that when he was in the Black Tyrone, before he
came to us, he was discovered on the banks of the Liffey trying to sell
his colonel's charger to a Donegal dealer as a perfect lady's hack.
Shackbolt commanded the Tyrone then.'

'Shackbolt must have had apoplexy at the thought of his ramping war-
horses answering to that description. He used to buy unbacked devils,
and tame them on some pet theory of starvation. What did Mulvaney say?'

'That he was a member of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to
Animals, anxious to "sell the poor baste where he would get something to
fill out his dimples." Shackbolt laughed, but I fancy that was why
Mulvaney exchanged to ours.'

'I wish he were back,' said the colonel; 'for I like him and believe he
likes me.'

That evening, to cheer our souls, Learoyd, Ortheris, and I went into the
waste to smoke out a porcupine. All the dogs attended, but even their
clamour--and they began to discuss the shortcomings of porcupines before
they left cantonments--could not take us out of ourselves. A large, low
moon turned the tops of the plume-grass to silver, and the stunted
camelthorn bushes and sour tamarisks into the likenesses of trooping
devils. The smell of the sun had not left the earth, and little aimless
winds blowing across the rose-gardens to the southward brought the scent
of dried roses and water. Our fire once started, and the dogs craftily
disposed to wait the dash of the porcupine, we climbed to the top of a
rain-scarred hillock of earth, and looked across the scrub seamed with
cattle paths, white with the long grass, and dotted with spots of level
pond-bottom, where the snipe would gather in winter.

'This,' said Ortheris, with a sigh, as he took in the unkempt desolation
of it all, 'this is sanguinary. This is unusually sanguinary. Sort o'
mad country. Like a grate when the fire's put out by the sun.' He shaded
his eyes against the moonlight. 'An' there's a loony dancin' in the
middle of it all. Quite right. I'd dance too if I wasn't so downheart.'

There pranced a Portent in the face of the moon--a huge and ragged
spirit of the waste, that flapped its wings from afar. It had risen out
of the earth; it was coming towards us, and its outline was never twice
the same. The toga, table-cloth, or dressing-gown, whatever the creature
wore, took a hundred shapes. Once it stopped on a neighbouring mound and
flung all its legs and arms to the winds.

'My, but that scarecrow 'as got 'em bad!' said Ortheris. 'Seems like if
'e comes any furder we'll 'ave to argify with 'im.'

Learoyd raised himself from the dirt as a bull clears his flanks of the
wallow. And as a bull bellows, so he, after a short minute at gaze, gave
tongue to the stars.


Oh then it was that we yelled, and the figure dipped into the hollow,
till, with a crash of rending grass, the lost one strode up to the light
of the fire and disappeared to the waist in a wave of joyous dogs! Then
Learoyd and Ortheris gave greeting, bass and falsetto together, both
swallowing a lump in the throat.

'You damned fool!' said they, and severally pounded him with their

'Go easy!' he answered; wrapping a huge arm round each. 'I would have
you to know that I am a god, to be treated as such--tho', by my faith, I
fancy I've got to go to the guard-room just like a privit soldier.'

The latter part of the sentence destroyed the suspicions raised by the
former. Any one would have been justified in regarding Mulvaney as mad.
He was hatless and shoeless, and his shirt and trousers were dropping
off him. But he wore one wondrous garment--a gigantic cloak that fell
from collar-bone to heel--of pale pink silk, wrought all over in
cunningest needlework of hands long since dead, with the loves of the
Hindu gods. The monstrous figures leaped in and out of the light of the
fire as he settled the folds round him.

Ortheris handled the stuff respectfully for a moment while I was trying
to remember where I had seen it before. Then he screamed, 'What 'AVE you
done with the palanquin? You're wearin' the linin'.'

'I am,' said the Irishman, 'an' by the same token the 'broidery is
scrapin' my hide off. I've lived in this sumpshus counterpane for four
days. Me son, I begin to ondherstand why the naygur is no use. Widout me
boots, an' me trousies like an openwork stocking on a gyurl's leg at a
dance, I begin to feel like a naygur-man--all fearful an' timoreous.
Give me a pipe an' I'll tell on.'

He lit a pipe, resumed his grip of his two friends, and rocked to and
fro in a gale of laughter.

'Mulvaney,' said Ortheris sternly, ''tain't no time for laughin'. You've
given Jock an' me more trouble than you're worth. You 'ave been absent
without leave an' you'll go into cells for that; an' you 'ave come back
disgustin'ly dressed an' most improper in the linin' o' that bloomin'
palanquin. Instid of which you laugh. An' WE thought you was dead all
the time.'

'Bhoys,' said the culprit, still shaking gently, 'whin I've done my tale
you may cry if you like, an' little Orth'ris here can thrample my inside
out. Ha' done an' listen. My performances have been stupenjus: my luck
has been the blessed luck av the British Army--an' there's no betther
than that. I went out dhrunk an' dhrinkin' in the palanquin, and I have
come back a pink god. Did any of you go to Dearsley afther my time was
up? He was at the bottom of ut all.'

'Ah said so,' murmured Learoyd. 'To-morrow ah'll smash t' face in upon
his heead.'

'Ye will not. Dearsley's a jool av a man. Afther Ortheris had put me
into the palanquin an' the six bearer-men were gruntin' down the road, I
tuk thought to mock Dearsley for that fight. So I tould thim, "Go to the
embankmint," and there, bein' most amazin' full, I shtuck my head out av
the concern an' passed compliments wid Dearsley. I must ha' miscalled
him outrageous, for whin I am that way the power av the tongue comes on
me. I can bare remimber tellin' him that his mouth opened endways like
the mouth av a skate, which was thrue afther Learoyd had handled ut; an'
I clear remimber his takin' no manner nor matter av offence, but givin'
me a big dhrink of beer. 'Twas the beer did the thrick, for I crawled
back into the palanquin, steppin' on me right ear wid me left foot, an'
thin I slept like the dead. Wanst I half-roused, an' begad the noise in
my head was tremenjus--roarin' and rattlin' an' poundin' such as was
quite new to me. "Mother av Mercy," thinks I, "phwat a concertina I will
have on my shoulders whin I wake!" An' wid that I curls mysilf up to
sleep before ut should get hould on me. Bhoys, that noise was not
dhrink, 'twas the rattle av a thrain!'

There followed an impressive pause.

'Yes, he had put me on a thrain--put me, palanquin an' all, an' six
black assassins av his own coolies that was in his nefarious confidence,
on the flat av a ballast-thruck, and we were rowlin' an' bowlin' along
to Benares. Glory be that I did not wake up thin an' introjuce mysilf to
the coolies. As I was sayin', I slept for the betther part av a day an'
a night. But remimber you, that that man Dearsley had packed me off on
wan av his material-thrains to Benares, all for to make me overstay my
leave an' get me into the cells.'

The explanation was an eminently rational one. Benares lay at least ten
hours by rail from the cantonments, and nothing in the world could have
saved Mulvaney from arrest as a deserter had he appeared there in the
apparel of his orgies. Dearsley had not forgotten to take revenge.
Learoyd, drawing back a little, began to place soft blows over selected
portions of Mulvaney's body. His thoughts were away on the embankment,
and they meditated evil for Dearsley. Mulvaney continued--

'Whin I was full awake the palanquin was set down in a street, I
suspicioned, for I cud hear people passin' an' talkin'. But I knew well
I was far from home. There is a queer smell upon our cantonments--a
smell av dried earth and brick-kilns wid whiffs av cavalry stable-
litter. This place smelt marigold flowers an' bad water, an' wanst
somethin' alive came an' blew heavy with his muzzle at the chink av the
shutter. "It's in a village I am," thinks I to mysilf, "an' the
parochial buffalo is investigatin' the palanquin." But anyways I had no
desire to move. Only lie still whin you're in foreign parts an' the
standin' luck av the British Army will carry ye through. That is an
epigram. I made ut.

'Thin a lot av whishperin' divils surrounded the palanquin. "Take ut
up," sez wan man. "But who'll pay us?" sez another. "The Maharanee's
minister, av coorse," sez the man. "Oho!" sez I to mysilf, "I'm a quane
in me own right, wid a minister to pay me expenses. I'll be an emperor
if I lie still long enough; but this is no village I've found." I lay
quiet, but I gummed me right eye to a crack av the shutters, an' I saw
that the whole street was crammed wid palanquins an' horses, an' a
sprinklin' av naked priests all yellow powder an' tigers' tails. But I
may tell you, Orth'ris, an' you, Learoyd, that av all the palanquins
ours was the most imperial an' magnificent. Now a palanquin means a
native lady all the world over, except whin a soldier av the Quane
happens to be takin' a ride. "Women an' priests!" sez I. "Your father's
son is in the right pew this time, Terence. There will be proceedin's."
Six black divils in pink muslin tuk up the palanquin, an' oh! but the
rowlin' an' the rockin' made me sick. Thin we got fair jammed among the
palanquins--not more than fifty av them--an' we grated an' bumped like
Queenstown potato-smacks in a runnin' tide. I cud hear the women
gigglin' and squirkin' in their palanquins, but mine was the royal
equipage. They made way for ut, an', begad, the pink muslin men o' mine
were howlin', "Room for the Maharanee av Gokral-Seetarun." Do you know
aught av the lady, sorr?'

'Yes,' said I. 'She is a very estimable old queen of the Central Indian
States, and they say she is fat. How on earth could she go to Benares
without all the city knowing her palanquin?'

''Twas the eternal foolishness av the naygur-man. They saw the palanquin
lying loneful an' forlornsome, an' the beauty av ut, after Dearsley's
men had dhropped ut and gone away, an' they gave ut the best name that
occurred to thim. Quite right too. For aught we know the ould lady was
thravellin' incog--like me. I'm glad to hear she's fat. I was no light
weight mysilf, an' my men were mortial anxious to dhrop me under a great
big archway promiscuously ornamented wid the most improper carvin's an'
cuttin's I iver saw. Begad! they made me blush--like a--like a

'The temple of Prithi-Devi,' I murmured, remembering the monstrous
horrors of that sculptured archway at Benares.

'Pretty Devilskins, savin' your presence, sorr! There was nothin' pretty
about ut, except me. 'Twas all half dhark, an' whin the coolies left
they shut a big black gate behind av us, an' half a company av fat
yellow priests began pully-haulin' the palanquins into a dharker place
yet--a big stone hall full av pillars, an' gods, an' incense, an' all
manner av similar thruck. The gate disconcerted me, for I perceived I
wud have to go forward to get out, my retreat bein' cut off. By the same
token a good priest makes a bad palanquin-coolie. Begad! they nearly
turned me inside out draggin' the palanquin to the temple. Now the
disposishin av the forces inside was this way. The Maharanee av Gokral-
Seetarun--that was me--lay by the favour av Providence on the far left
flank behind the dhark av a pillar carved with elephints' heads. The
remainder av the palanquins was in a big half circle facing in to the
biggest, fattest, an' most amazin' she-god that iver I dreamed av. Her
head ran up into the black above us, an' her feet stuck out in the light
av a little fire av melted butter that a priest was feedin' out av a
butter-dish. Thin a man began to sing an' play on somethin' back in the
dhark, an 'twas a queer song. Ut made my hair lift on the back av my
neck. Thin the doors av all the palanquins slid back, an' the women
bundled out. I saw what I'll niver see again. 'Twas more glorious than
thransformations at a pantomime, for they was in pink an' blue an'
silver an' red an' grass green, wid di'monds an' im'ralds an' great red
rubies all over thim. But that was the least part av the glory. O bhoys,
they were more lovely than the like av any loveliness in hiven; ay,
their little bare feet were betther than the white hands av a lord's
lady, an' their mouths were like puckered roses, an' their eyes were
bigger an' dharker than the eyes av any livin' women I've seen. Ye may
laugh, but I'm speakin' truth. I niver saw the like, an' niver I will

'Seeing that in all probability you were watching the wives and
daughters of most of the Kings of India, the chances are that you
won't,' I said, for it was dawning on me that Mulvaney had stumbled upon
a big Queens' Praying at Benares.

'I niver will,' he said mournfully. 'That sight doesn't come twist to
any man. It made me ashamed to watch. A fat priest knocked at my door. I
didn't think he'd have the insolince to disturb the Maharanee av Gokral-
Seetarun, so I lay still. "The old cow's asleep," sez he to another.
"Let her be," sez that. "'Twill be long before she has a calf!" I might
ha' known before he spoke that all a woman prays for in Injia--an' for
matter o' that in England too--is childher. That made me more sorry I'd
come, me bein', as you well know, a childless man.'

He was silent for a moment, thinking of his little son, dead many years

'They prayed, an' the butter-fires blazed up an' the incense turned
everything blue, an' between that an' the fires the women looked as tho'
they were all ablaze an' twinklin'. They took hold av the she-god's
knees, they cried out an' they threw themselves about, an' that world-
without-end-amen music was dhrivin' thim mad. Mother av Hiven! how they
cried, an' the ould she-god grinnin' above thim all so scornful! The
dhrink was dyin' out in me fast, an' I was thinkin' harder than the
thoughts wud go through my head--thinkin' how to get out, an' all manner
of nonsense as well. The women were rockin' in rows, their di'mond belts
clickin', an' the tears runnin' out betune their hands, an' the lights
were goin' lower an' dharker. Thin there was a blaze like lightnin' from
the roof, an' that showed me the inside av the palanquin, an' at the end
where my foot was, stood the livin' spit an' image o' mysilf worked on
the linin'. This man here, ut was.'

He hunted in the folds of his pink cloak, ran a hand under one, and
thrust into the firelight a foot-long embroidered presentment of the
great god Krishna, playing on a flute. The heavy jowl, the staring eye,
and the blue-black moustache of the god made up a far-off resemblance to

'The blaze was gone in a wink, but the whole schame came to me thin. I
believe I was mad too. I slid the off-shutter open an' rowled out into
the dhark behind the elephint-head pillar, tucked up my trousies to my
knees, slipped off my boots an' tuk a general hould av all the pink
linin' av the palanquin. Glory be, ut ripped out like a woman's dhriss
whin you tread on ut at a sergeants' ball, an' a bottle came with ut. I
tuk the bottle an' the next minut I was out av the dhark av the pillar,
the pink linin' wrapped round me most graceful, the music thunderin'
like kettledrums, an' a could draft blowin' round my bare legs. By this
hand that did ut, I was Khrishna tootlin' on the flute--the god that the
rig'mental chaplain talks about. A sweet sight I must ha' looked. I knew
my eyes were big, and my face was wax-white, an' at the worst I must ha'
looked like a ghost. But they took me for the livin' god. The music
stopped, and the women were dead dumb an' I crooked my legs like a
shepherd on a china basin, an' I did the ghost-waggle with my feet as I
had done ut at the rig'mental theatre many times, an' I slid acrost the
width av that temple in front av the she-god tootlin' on the beer

'Wot did you toot?' demanded Ortheris the practical.

'Me? Oh!' Mulvaney sprang up, suiting the action to the word, and
sliding gravely in front of us, a dilapidated but imposing deity in the
half light. 'I sang--

'Only say
You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan.
Don't say nay,
Charmin' Judy Callaghan.

I didn't know me own voice when I sang. An' oh! 'twas pitiful to see the
women. The darlin's were down on their faces. Whin I passed the last wan
I cud see her poor little fingers workin' one in another as if she
wanted to touch my feet. So I dhrew the tail av this pink overcoat over
her head for the greater honour, an' I slid into the dhark on the other
side av the temple, and fetched up in the arms av a big fat priest. All
I wanted was to get away clear. So I tuk him by his greasy throat an'
shut the speech out av him. "Out!" sez I. "Which way, ye fat heathen?"--
"Oh!" sez he. "Man," sez I. "White man, soldier man, common soldier man.
Where in the name av confusion is the back door?" The women in the
temple were still on their faces, an' a young priest was holdin' out his
arms above their heads.

'"This way," sez my fat friend, duckin' behind a big bull-god an' divin'
into a passage. Thin I remimbered that I must ha' made the miraculous
reputation av that temple for the next fifty years. "Not so fast," I
sez, an' I held out both my hands wid a wink. That ould thief smiled
like a father. I tuk him by the back av the neck in case he should be
wishful to put a knife into me unbeknownst, an' I ran him up an' down
the passage twice to collect his sensibilities! "Be quiet," sez he, in
English. "Now you talk sense," I sez. "Fwhat 'll you give me for the use
av that most iligant palanquin I have no time to take away?"--"Don't
tell," sez he. "Is ut like?" sez I. "But ye might give me my railway
fare. I'm far from my home an' I've done you a service." Bhoys, 'tis a
good thing to be a priest. The ould man niver throubled himself to dhraw
from a bank. As I will prove to you subsequint, he philandered all round
the slack av his clothes an' began dribblin' ten-rupee notes, old gold
mohurs, and rupees into my hand till I could hould no more.'

'You lie!' said Ortheris. 'You're mad or sunstrook. A native don't give
coin unless you cut it out o' 'im. 'Tain't nature.'

'Then my lie an' my sunstroke is concealed under that lump av sod
yonder,' retorted Mulvaney unruffled, nodding across the scrub. 'An'
there's a dale more in nature than your squidgy little legs have iver
taken you to, Orth'ris, me son. Four hundred an' thirty-four rupees by
my reckonin', AN' a big fat gold necklace that I took from him as a
remimbrancer, was our share in that business.'

'An' 'e give it you for love?' said Ortheris.

'We were alone in that passage. Maybe I was a trifle too pressin', but
considher fwhat I had done for the good av the temple and the
iverlastin' joy av those women. 'Twas cheap at the price. I wud ha'
taken more if I cud ha' found ut. I turned the ould man upside down at
the last, but he was milked dhry. Thin he opened a door in another
passage an' I found mysilf up to my knees in Benares river-water, an'
bad smellin' ut is. More by token I had come out on the river-line close
to the burnin' ghat and contagious to a cracklin' corpse. This was in
the heart av the night, for I had been four hours in the temple. There
was a crowd av boats tied up, so I tuk wan an' wint across the river.
Thin I came home acrost country, lyin' up by day.'

'How on earth did you manage?' I said.

'How did Sir Frederick Roberts get from Cabul to Candahar? He marched
an' he niver tould how near he was to breakin' down. That's why he is
fwhat he is. An' now--' Mulvaney yawned portentously. 'Now I will go an'
give myself up for absince widout leave. It's eight an' twenty days an'
the rough end of the colonel's tongue in orderly room, any way you look
at ut. But 'tis cheap at the price.'

'Mulvaney,' said I softly. 'If there happens to be any sort of excuse
that the colonel can in any way accept, I have a notion that you'll get
nothing more than the dressing-gown. The new recruits are in, and--'

'Not a word more, sorr. Is ut excuses the old man wants? 'Tis not my
way, but he shall have thim. I'll tell him I was engaged in financial
operations connected wid a church,' and he flapped his way to
cantonments and the cells, singing lustily--

'So they sent a corp'ril's file,
And they put me in the gyard-room
For conduck unbecomin' of a soldier.'

And when he was lost in the midst of the moonlight we could hear the

Bang upon the big drum, bash upon the cymbals,
As we go marchin' along, boys, oh!
For although in this campaign
There's no whisky nor champagne,
We'll keep our spirits goin' with a song, boys!'

Therewith he surrendered himself to the joyful and almost weeping guard,
and was made much of by his fellows. But to the colonel he said that he
had been smitten with sunstroke and had lain insensible on a villager's
cot for untold hours; and between laughter and goodwill the affair was
smoothed over, so that he could, next day, teach the new recruits how to
'Fear God, Honour the Queen, Shoot Straight, and Keep Clean.'

Rudyard Kipling