English fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, English
"Before I left the bungalow I caught old Jeewun Singh, one of the
_mistries_ on the gates, and gave him strict orders that he was to
keep in sight of the Sahib wherever he went and whatever he did; and
if he did or tried to do anything foolish, such as jumping down the
well, Jeewun Singh was to stop him. The old man tumbled at once, and
I was easier in my mind when I saw how he was shadowing Stovey up and
down the works. Then I sat down and wrote a letter to old Baggs, the
Civil Surgeon at Chemanghath, about sixty miles off, telling him how
we stood. The runner left about three o'clock. Jeewun Singh turned up
at the end of the day and gave a full, true and particular account of
Stovey's doings. D'you know what the brute had done?"
"Spare us the agony. Kill him straight off, Saveloy!"
"He'd stopped the runner, opened the bag, read my letter and torn it
up! There were only two letters in the bag, both of which I'd written.
I was pretty _average_ angry, but I lay low. At dinner he said he'd got
a touch of dysentery and wanted some chlorodyne. For a man anxious to
depart this life he was _about_ as badly equipped as you could wish.
Hadn't even a medicine-chest to play with. He was no more suffering
from dysentery than I, but I said I'd give him the chlorodyne, and so
I did--fifteen drops, mixed in a wine-glass, and when he asked for the
bottle I said that I hadn't any more.
"That night he began praying again, and I just lay in bed and
shuddered. He was invoking the most blasphemous curses on my head--all
in a whisper, for fear of waking me up--for frustrating what he called
his 'great and holy purpose.' You never heard anything like it. But as
long as he was praying I knew he was alive, and he ran his praying half
through the night.
"Well, for the next ten days he was apparently quite rational; but I
watched him and told Jeewun Singh to watch him like a cat. I suppose he
wanted to throw me off my guard, but I wasn't to be thrown. I grew thin
watching him. Baggs wrote in to say he had gone on tour and couldn't be
found anywhere in particular for another six weeks. It was a ghastly
time.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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