India -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Short stories, English
"Mulvaney, the dawn's risin'," said Ortheris, "an' we're no nearer 'ome
than we was at the beginnin'. Lend me your pouch. Mine's all dust."
Mulvaney pitched his pouch over, and filled his pipe afresh.
"So the dhress-rehearsal came to an end, an', bekaze I was curious, I
stayed behind whin the scene-shiftin' was ended, an' I shud ha' been in
barricks, lyin' as flat as a toad under a painted cottage thing. They was
talkin' in whispers, an' she was shiverin' an' gaspin' like a fresh-hukked
fish. 'Are you sure you've got the hang av the manewvers?' sez he, or
wurrds to that effec', as the coort-martial sez. 'Sure as death,' sez she,
'but I misdoubt 'tis cruel hard on my father.' 'Damn your father,' sez he,
or anyways 'twas fwhat he thought, 'the arrangement is as clear as mud.
Jungi will drive the carri'ge afther all's over, an' you come to the
station, cool an' aisy, in time for the two o'clock thrain, where I'll be
wid your kit.' 'Faith,' thinks I to myself, 'thin there's a ayah in the
business tu!'
"A powerful bad thing is a ayah. Don't you niver have any thruck wid wan.
Thin he began sootherin' her, an' all the orfcers an' orfcers' ladies
left, an' they put out the lights. To explain the theory av the flight, as
they say at Muskthry, you must understand that afther this _Sweethearts'_
nonsinse was ended, there was another little bit av a play called
_Couples_--some kind av couple or another. The gurl was actin' in this,
but not the man. I suspicioned he'd go to the station wid the gurl's kit
at the end av the first piece. Twas the kit that flusthered me, for I knew
for a Capt'n to go trapesing about the impire wid the Lord knew what av a
_truso_ on his arrum was nefarious, an' wud be worse than easin' the flag,
so far as the talk aftherward wint."
'"Old on, Mulvaney. Wot's _truso_?" said Ortheris.
"You're an oncivilized man, me son. Whin a gurl's married, all her kit an'
'coutrements are _truso_, which manes weddin'-portion. An' 'tis the same
whin she's runnin' away, even wid the biggest blackguard on the Arrmy
List.
"So I made my plan av campaign. The Colonel's house was a good two miles
away. 'Dennis,' sez I to my color-sargint, 'av you love me lend me your
kyart, for me heart is bruk an' me feet is sore wid trampin' to and from
this foolishness at the Gaff.' An' Dennis lent ut, wid a rampin', stampin'
red stallion in the shafts. Whin they was all settled down to their
_Sweethearts_ for the first scene, which was a long wan, I slips outside
and into the kyart. Mother av Hivin! but I made that horse walk, an' we
came into the Colonel's compound as the divil wint through Athlone--in
standin' leps. There was no one there excipt the sarvints, an' I wint
round to the back an' found the girl's ayah.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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