Black Jack - Part I

To the wake av Tim O'Hara
Came company,
All St. Patrick's Alley
Was there to see.
_Robert Buchanan._

As the Three Musketeers share their silver, tobacco, and liquor together,
as they protect each other in barracks or camp, and as they rejoice
together over the joy of one, so do they divide their sorrows. When
Ortheris's irrepressible tongue has brought him into cells for a season,
or Learoyd has run amok through his kit and accoutrements, or Mulvaney has
indulged in strong waters, and under their influence reproved his
Commanding Officer, you can see the trouble in the faces of the untouched
two. And the rest of the regiment know that comment or jest is unsafe.
Generally the three avoid Orderly Room and the Corner Shop that follows,
leaving both to the young bloods who have not sown their wild oats; but
there are occasions--

For instance, Ortheris was sitting on the drawbridge of the main gate of
Fort Amara, with his hands in his pockets and his pipe, bowl down, in his
mouth. Learoyd was lying at full length on the turf of the glacis, kicking
his heels in the air, and I came round the corner and asked for Mulvaney.

Ortheris spat into the ditch and shook his head. "No good seein' 'im now,"
said Ortheris; "'e's a bloomin' camel. Listen."

I heard on the flags of the veranda opposite to the cells, which are close
to the Guard-Room, a measured step that I could have identified in the
tramp of an army. There were twenty paces _crescendo_, a pause, and then
twenty _diminuendo_.

"That's 'im," said Ortheris; "my Gawd, that's 'im! All for a bloomin'
button you could see your face in an' a bit o' lip that a bloomin'
Hark-angel would 'a' guv back."

Mulvaney was doing pack-drill--was compelled, that is to say, to walk up
and down for certain hours in full marching order, with rifle, bayonet,
ammunition, knapsack, and overcoat. And his offence was being dirty on
parade! I nearly fell into the Fort Ditch with astonishment and wrath, for
Mulvaney is the smartest man that ever mounted guard, and would as soon
think of turning out uncleanly as of dispensing with his trousers.

"Who was the Sergeant that checked him?" I asked.

"Mullins, o' course," said Ortheris. "There ain't no other man would whip
'im on the peg so. But Mullins ain't a man. 'E's a dirty little
pigscraper, that's wot 'e is."

"What did Mulvaney say? He's not the make of man to take that quietly."

"Said! Bin better for 'im if 'e'd shut 'is mouth. Lord, 'ow we laughed!
'Sargint,' 'e sez, 'ye say I'm dirty. Well,' sez 'e, 'when your wife lets
you blow your own nose for yourself, perhaps you'll know wot dirt is.
You're himperfectly eddicated, Sargint,' sez 'e, an' then we fell in. But
after p'rade, 'e was up an' Mullins was swearin' 'imself black in the face
at Ord'ly Room that Mulvaney 'ad called 'im a swine an' Lord knows wot
all. You know Mullins. 'E'll 'ave 'is 'ead broke in one o' these days.
'E's too big a bloomin' liar for ord'nary consumption. 'Three hours' can
an' kit,' sez the Colonel; 'not for bein' dirty on p'rade, but for 'avin'
said somthin' to Mullins, tho' I do not believe,' sez 'e, 'you said wot 'e
said you said.' An' Mulvaney fell away sayin' nothin'. You know 'e never
speaks to the Colonel for fear o' gettin' 'imself fresh copped."

Mullins, a very young and very much married Sergeant, whose manners were
partly the result of innate depravity and partly of imperfectly digested
Board School, came over the bridge, and most rudely asked Ortheris what he
was doing.

"Me?" said Ortheris, "Ow! I'm waiting for my C'mission. 'Seed it comin'
along yit?"

Mullins turned purple and passed on. There was the sound of a gentle
chuckle from the glacis where Learoyd lay.

"'E expects to get 'is C'mission some day," explained Orth'ris; "Gawd 'elp
the Mess that 'ave to put their 'ands into the same kiddy as 'im! Wot time
d'you make it, sir? Fower! Mulvaney 'll be out in 'arf an hour. You don't
want to buy a dorg, sir, do you? A pup you can trust--'arf Rampore by the
Colonel's grey'ound."

"Ortheris," I answered, sternly, for I knew what was in his mind, "do you
mean to say that"--

"I didn't mean to arx money o' you, any'ow," said Ortheris; "I'd 'a' sold
you the dorg good an' cheap, but--but--I know Mulvaney 'll want somethin'
after we've walked 'im orf, an' I ain't got nothin', nor 'e 'asn't
neither, I'd sooner sell you the dorg, sir. 'S'trewth! I would!"

A shadow fell on the drawbridge, and Ortheris began to rise into the air,
lifted by a huge hand upon his collar.

"Onything but t' braass," said Learoyd, quietly, as he held the Londoner
over the ditch. "Onything but t' braass, Orth'ris, ma son! Ah've got one
rupee eight annas of ma own." He showed two coins, and replaced Ortheris
on the drawbridge rail.

"Very good," I said; "where are you going to?"

"Goin' to walk 'im orf wen 'e comes out--two miles or three or fower,"
said Ortheris.

The footsteps within ceased. I heard the dull thud of a knapsack falling
on a bedstead, followed by the rattle of arms. Ten minutes later,
Mulvaney, faultlessly dressed, his lips tight and his face as black as a
thunderstorm, stalked into the sunshine on the drawbridge. Learoyd and
Ortheris sprang from my side and closed in upon him, both leaning toward
as horses lean upon the pole. In an instant they had disappeared down the
sunken road to the cantonments, and I was left alone. Mulvaney had not
seen fit to recognize me; so I knew that his trouble must be heavy upon
him.

I climbed one of the bastions and watched the figures of the Three
Musketeers grow smaller and smaller across the plain. They were walking as
fast as they could put foot to the ground, and their heads were bowed.
They fetched a great compass round the parade-ground, skirted the Cavalry
lines, and vanished in the belt of trees that fringes the low land by the
river.

I followed slowly, and sighted them--dusty, sweating, but still keeping up
their long, swinging tramp--on the river bank. They crashed through the
Forest Reserve, headed toward the Bridge of Boats, and presently
established themselves on the bow of one of the pontoons. I rode
cautiously till I saw three puffs of white smoke rise and die out in the
clear evening air, and knew that peace had come again. At the bridge-head
they waved me forward with gestures of welcome.

"Tie up your 'orse," shouted Ortheris, "an' come on, sir. We're all goin'
'ome in this 'ere bloomin' boat."

From the bridge-head to the Forest Officer's bungalow is but a step. The
mess-man was there, and would see that a man held my horse. Did the Sahib
require aught else--a peg, or beer? Ritchie Sahib had left half a dozen
bottles of the latter, but since the Sahib was a friend of Ritchie Sahib,
and he, the mess-man, was a poor man--

I gave my order quietly, and returned to the bridge. Mulvaney had taken
off his boots, and was dabbling his toes in the water; Learoyd was lying
on his back on the pontoon; and Ortheris was pretending to row with a big
bamboo.

"I'm an ould fool," said Mulvaney, reflectively, "dhraggin' you two out
here bekaze I was undher the Black Dog--sulkin' like a child. Me that was
soldierin' when Mullins, an' be damned to him, was shquealin' on a
counterpin for five shillin' a week--an' that not paid! Bhoys, I've took
you five miles out av natural pervarsity. Phew!"

"Wot's the odds so long as you're 'appy?" said Ortheris, applying himself
afresh to the bamboo. "As well 'ere as anywhere else."

Learoyd held up a rupee and an eight-anna bit, and shook his head
sorrowfully. "Five mile from t'Canteen, all along o' Mulvaney's blasted
pride."

"I know ut," said Mulvaney, penitently. "Why will ye come wid me? An' yet
I wud be mortial sorry if ye did not--any time--though I am ould enough to
know betther. But I will do penance. I will take a dhrink av wather."

Ortheris squeaked shrilly. The butler of the Forest bungalow was standing
near the railings with a basket, uncertain how to clamber down to the
pontoon. "Might 'a' know'd you'd 'a' got liquor out o' bloomin' desert,
sir," said Ortheris, gracefully, to me. Then to the mess-man: "Easy with
them there bottles. They're worth their weight in gold. Jock, ye
long-armed beggar, get out o' that an' hike 'em down."

Learoyd had the basket on the pontoon in an instant, and the Three
Musketeers gathered round it with dry lips. They drank my health in due
and ancient form, and thereafter tobacco tasted sweeter than ever. They
absorbed all the beer, and disposed themselves in picturesque attitudes to
admire the setting sun--no man speaking for a while.

Mulvaney's head dropped upon his chest, and we thought that he was asleep.

"What on earth did you come so far for?" I whispered to Ortheris.

"To walk 'im orf, o' course. When 'e's been checked we allus walks 'im
orf, 'E ain't fit to be spoke to those times--nor 'e ain't fit to leave
alone neither. So we takes 'im till 'e is."

Mulvaney raised his head, and stared straight into the sunset. "I had my
rifle," said he, dreamily, "an' I had my bay'nit, an' Mullins came round
the corner, an' he looked in my face an' grinned dishpiteful. '_You_ can't
blow your own nose,' sez he. Now, I cannot tell fwhat Mullins's
expayrience may ha' been, but, Mother av God, he was nearer to his death
that minut' than I have iver been to mine--and that's less than the
thicknuss av a hair!"

"Yes," said Ortheris, calmly, "you'd look fine with all your buttons took
orf, an' the Band in front o' you, walkin' roun' slow time. We're both
front-rank men, me an' Jock, when the rig'ment's in 'ollow square,
Bloomin' fine you'd look. 'The Lord giveth an' the Lord taketh
awai,--Heasy with that there drop!--Blessed be the naime o' the Lord,'" he
gulped in a quaint and suggestive fashion.

"Mullins! Wot's Mullins?" said Learoyd, slowly. "Ah'd take a coomp'ny o'
Mullinses--ma hand behind me. Sitha, Mulvaney, don't be a fool."

"_You_ were not checked for fwhat you did not do, an' made a mock av
afther. 'Twas for less than that the Tyrone wud ha' sent O'Hara to hell,
instid av lettin' him go by his own choosin', whin Rafferty shot him,"
retorted Mulvaney.

"And who stopped the Tyrone from doing it?" I asked.

"That ould fool who's sorry he didn't stick the pig Mullins." His head
dropped again. When he raised it he shivered and put his hands on the
shoulders of his two companions.

"Ye've walked the Divil out av me, bhoys," said he.

Ortheris shot out the red-hot dottel of his pipe on the back of the hairy
fist. "They say 'Ell's 'otter than that," said he, as Mulvaney swore
aloud. "You be warned so. Look yonder!"--he pointed across the river to a
ruined temple--"Me an' you an' _'im_"-he indicated me by a jerk of his
head--"was there one day when Hi made a bloomin' show o' myself. You an'
'im stopped me doin' such--an' Hi was on'y wishful for to desert. You are
makin' a bigger bloomin' show o' yourself now."

"Don't mind him, Mulvaney," I said; "Dinah Shadd won't let you hang
yourself yet awhile, and you don't intend to try it either. Let's hear
about the Tyrone and O'Hara. Rafferty shot him for fooling with his wife.
What happened before that?"

"There's no fool like an ould fool. You know you can do anythin' wid me
whin I'm talkin'. Did I say I wud like to cut Mullins's liver out? I deny
the imputashin, for fear that Orth'ris here wud report me--Ah! You wud tip
me into the river, wud you? Sit quiet, little man. Anyways, Mullins is not
worth the trouble av an extry p'rade, an' I will trate him wid outrajis
contimpt. The Tyrone an' O'Hara! O'Hara an' the Tyrone, begad! Ould days
are hard to bring back into the mouth, but they're always inside the
head."

Followed a long pause.

"O'Hara was a Divil. Though I saved him, for the honor av the rig'mint,
from his death that time, I say it now. He was a Divil--a long, bould,
black-haired Divil."

"Which way?" asked Ortheris,

"Women."

"Then I know another."

"Not more than in reason, if you mane me, ye warped walkin'-shtick. I have
been young, an' for why should I not have tuk what I cud? Did I iver, whin
I was Corp'ril, use the rise av my rank--wan step an' that taken away,
more's the sorrow an' the fault av me!--to prosecute a nefarious
inthrigue, as O'Hara did? Did I, whin I was Corp'ril, lay my spite upon a
man an' make his life a dog's life from day to day? Did I lie, as O'Hara
lied, till the young wans in the Tyrone turned white wid the fear av the
Judgment av God killin' thim all in a lump, as ut killed the woman at
Devizes? I did not! I have sinned my sins an' I have made my confesshin,
an' Father Victor knows the worst av me. O'Hara was tuk, before he cud
spake, on Rafferty's doorstep, an' no man knows the worst av him. But this
much I know!

"The Tyrone was recruited any fashion in the ould days. A draf from
Connemara--a draf from Portsmouth--a draf from Kerry, an' that was a
blazin' bad draf--here, there and iverywhere--but the large av thim was
Oirish--Black Oirish. Now there are Oirish an' Oirish. The good are good
as the best, but the bad are wurrst than the wurrst. 'Tis this way. They
clog together in pieces as fast as thieves, an' no wan knows fwhat they
will do till wan turns informer an' the gang is bruk. But ut begins again,
a day later, meetin' in holes an' corners an' swearin' bloody oaths an'
shtickin' a man in the back an' runnin' away, an' thin waitin' for the
blood-money on the reward papers--to see if ut's worth enough. Those are
the Black Oirish, an' 'tis they that bring dishgrace upon the name av
Oireland, an' thim I wud kill--as I nearly killed wan wanst.

"But to reshume. My room--'twas before I was married--was wid twelve av
the scum av the earth--the pickin's av the gutter--mane men that wud
neither laugh nor talk nor yet get dhrunk as a man shud. They thried some
av their dog's thricks on me, but I dhrew a line round my cot, an' the man
that thransgressed ut wint into hospital for three days good.

"O'Hara had put his spite on the room--he was my Color Sargint--an'
nothin' cud we do to plaze him. I was younger than I am now, an' I tuk
what I got in the way av dressing down and punishmint-dhrill wid my tongue
in my cheek. But it was diff'rint wid the others, an' why I cannot say,
excipt that some men are borrun mane an' go to dhirty murdher where a fist
is more than enough. Afther a whoile, they changed their chune to me an'
was desp'rit frien'ly--all twelve av thim cursin' O'Hara in chorus.

"'Eyah,' sez I, 'O'Hara's a divil an' I'm not for denyin' ut, but is he
the only man in the wurruld? Let him go. He'll get tired av findin' our
kit foul an' our 'coutrements onproperly kep'.'

"'We will _not_ let him go,' sez they.

"'Thin take him,' sez I, 'an' a dashed poor yield you will get for your
throuble.'

"'Is he not misconductin' himself wid Slimmy's wife?' sez another.

"'She's common to the rig'mint,' sez I. 'Fwhat has made ye this partic'lar
on a suddint?'

"'Has he not put his spite on the roomful av us? Can we do anythin' that
he will not check us for?' sez another.

"'That's thrue,' sez I.

"'Will ye not help us to do aught,' sez another--'a big bould man like
you?'

"'I will break his head upon his shoulthers av he puts hand on me,' sez I.
'I will give him the lie av he says that I'm dhirty, an' I wud not mind
duckin' him in the Artillery troughs if ut was not that I'm thryin' for my
shtripes.'

"'Is that all ye will do?' sez another. 'Have ye no more spunk than that,
ye blood-dhrawn calf?'

"'Blood-dhrawn I may be,' sez I, gettin' back to my cot an' makin' my line
round ut; 'but ye know that the man who comes acrost this mark will be
more blood-dhrawn than me. No man gives me the name in my mouth,' I sez.
'Ondersthand, I will have no part wid you in anythin' ye do, nor will I
raise my fist to my shuperior. Is any wan comin' on?' sez I.

"They made no move, tho' I gave them full time, but stud growlin' an'
snarlin' together at wan ind av the room. I tuk up my cap and wint out to
Canteen, thinkin' no little av mesilf, and there I grew most ondacintly
dhrunk in my legs. My head was all reasonable.

"'Houligan,' I sez to a man in E Comp'ny that was by way av bein' a frind
av mine; 'I'm overtuk from the belt down. Do you give me the touch av your
shoulther to presarve my formation an' march me acrost the ground into the
high grass. I'll sleep ut off there,' sez I; an' Houligan--he's dead now,
but good he was while he lasted--walked wid me, givin' me the touch whin I
wint wide, ontil we came to the high grass, an', my faith, the sky an' the
earth was fair rowlin' undher me. I made for where the grass was thickust,
an' there I slep' off my liquor wid an easy conscience. I did not desire
to come on books too frequent; my characther havin' been shpotless for the
good half av a year.

"Whin I roused, the dhrink was dyin' out in me, an' I felt as though a
she-cat had littered in my mouth. I had not learned to hould my liquor wid
comfort in thim days. 'Tis little betther I am now. 'I will get Houligan
to pour a bucket over my head,' thinks I, an' I wud ha' risen, but I heard
some wan say: 'Mulvaney can take the blame av ut for the backslidin' hound
he is.'

"'Oho!' sez I, an' my head rang like a guard-room gong: 'fwhat is the
blame that this young man must take to oblige Tim Vulmea?' For 'twas Tim
Vulmea that shpoke.

"I turned on my belly an' crawled through the grass, a bit at a time, to
where the spache came from. There was the twelve av my room sittin' down
in a little patch, the dhry grass wavin' above their heads an' the sin av
black murdher in their hearts. I put the stuff aside to get a clear view.

"'Fwhat's that?' sez wan man, jumpin' up.

"'A dog,' says Vulmea. 'You're a nice hand to this job! As I said,
Mulvaney will take the blame--av ut comes to a pinch.'

"''Tis harrd to swear a man's life away,' sez a young wan.

"'Thank ye for that,' thinks I. 'Now, fwhat the divil are you paragins
conthrivin' against me?'

"''Tis as easy as dhrinkin' your quart,' sez Vulmea. 'At seven or thereon,
O'Hara will come acrost to the Married Quarters, goin' to call on Slimmy's
wife, the swine! Wan av us'll pass the wurrd to the room an' we shtart the
divil an' all av a shine--laughin' an' crackin' on an' t'rowin' our boots
about. Thin O'Hara will come to give us the ordher to be quiet, the more
by token bekaze the room-lamp will be knocked over in the larkin'. He will
take the straight road to the ind door where there's the lamp in the
veranda, an' that'll bring him clear against the light as he shtands. He
will not be able to look into the dhark. Wan av us will loose off, an' a
close shot ut will be, an' shame to the man that misses. 'Twill be
Mulvaney's rifle, she that that is at the head av the rack--there's no
mistakin' long-shtocked, cross-eyed bitch even in the dhark.'