Colville of the Guards, Volume 1 (of 3)Grant, James
General
Colville of the Guards, Volume 1 (of 3)
Grant, James
British -- Afghanistan -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction
Her dress was plain, but fitted well her lithe and slender figure.
She had on the daintiest of white cuffs and collar; a sunshade over
her head lined with pink imparted to her soft face a glow that it did
not naturally possess, and over her left arm were the two chaplets
she and Ellinor had been so lately preparing.
No sound but the rustle of leaves and the twitter of birds broke the
sunny stillness, till she eventually heard Jack, her fox-terrier, who
was careering in front of her, barking and yelping with all the
satisfaction of a joyous dog that has met with a friend, and almost
immediately afterwards a turn of the rocky path brought her face to
face with Captain Colville, who, rod in hand and basket on shoulder,
had just quitted his fishing in the May after a satisfactory day's
sport, and about whose well-gaitered legs Jack was leaping and
bounding noisily.
'When Jack was here, I knew his mistress could not be far off,' said
Colville, lifting his fly-garnished wideawake and presenting a hand
with his brightest smile. 'You know the saw, Miss Wellwood, "Love
me, love my dog," but it would seem that Jack loves me. And Jack is
a travelled dog, I understand--one who has seen the world?'
'Yes; Jack was a soldier's dog--was with Roberts' army in India, and
in more than one battle,' replied Mary.
'I too have been in India--a bond between Jack and me,' said
Colville, as he produced a biscuit from his pocket, and the dog
caught it with a snap.
'He wags his dear old tail quite as if he recognised a comrade,' said
Mary, laughing, while Colville accompanied her along the narrow path
over which the silver birches drooped their graceful foliage.
'And so you and your sister, Miss Ellinor, are cousins of my
brother-officer, Wellwood?' said Colville, after a pause, and a
little abruptly, as Mary thought.
'I am sorry to say we are.'
'Why sorry--he is not half a bad fellow?'
'Well, I have no reason to be otherwise than quite indifferent on the
subject of his existence. It was some family matter. Our parents
were never friends, and he--he----'
'What?'
'Has chosen to forget there were such persons in the world as Ellinor
and I; and considering that we have so few relations--none else
nearly now----' Mary paused, and her eyes fell on the chaplets
through which her slender arm was passed.
'He could never have seen you,' said Colville, earnestly; 'had he
done so he would never have forgotten you, believe me; and when I
tell him----'
'Tell him nothing, pray.'
'As you please, Miss Wellwood. I knew him in India, before I was in
the Guards.'
'Indeed.'
'Yes; I remember his first dinner with our mess at Lahore--got
screwed, as the phrase is; and how do you think he was taken to his
bungalow?'
'In a cab, perhaps,' suggested Mary.
'We carried him through the lines shoulder-high upon a door, with the
bugles playing the "Dead March in Saul," before him.'
'Then he is dissipated?'
'Oh--awfully--a wild fellow, in that sense.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account