The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life Part 17

On reaching home he took up a letter that was addressed to him by Mr.

M., senior, in which he spoke of his son and his son's evil habits in a very fond and parental way, making all sorts of excuses for a low and disgusting indulgence that admits of no excuse, except that the person exhibiting it had lost all self-control, which might with equal propriety be put forth to defend any other crime. The writer entreated that my brother would use representation, persuasion, and every moral means in aid of his medical treatment, in order to reform as well as cure his unfortunate son. He then explained his son's position in the army. He said that, by means of family interest, he had got his son gazetted for a staff appointment, but that it had not been taken up, in consequence of his son's sickness, which, through the kindness of the medical officer, my brother would find put down in the case as _fever_.

'In his private letter to you,' continued the old gentleman, 'I cannot tell what he has said, but whatever this may be, I should esteem it a lasting obligation if you would kindly put down in your official report the same disease, _fever_;' and that if my brother would be so kind as to do this, his son could be sent home on sick certificate for three years without losing his claim to a staff appointment, and that not only he, but the whole family would be for ever grateful.

Long before my brother got to the end of this precious epistle, he felt so indignant and disgusted with the doting and unprincipled old writer, that he more than once determined to return the letter in a blank envelope. He did not, however, act on his first thought; he remembered old Mr. M.'s gray hairs, and that he was a father who was wrapped up in his only son. My brother contented himself with acknowledging the old gentleman's letter as briefly as possible, adding that he would do all that was in his power for his son.

He then glanced over the official case, which was so drawn up as to afford little information as to the state of the patient. This was of no consequence; what my brother had seen was quite enough. The private letter was a degree more truthful; but the facts were so softened, and so many suppositions were introduced in order to account for the symptoms, that it was, or appeared to be, more calculated to conceal the real condition of the patient than to make it evident. My brother thought of Talleyrand's _mot_ regarding language, smiled, and then sat down to breakfast with his wife.

This narrative not being either a medical treatise or report, my brother omits all details of the treatment of the case. It must suffice to say that he did his best, and at first with such success that hope of reform began to be entertained. It was, however, a delusive hope. The patient broke all his promises, secretly obtained from the Pa.r.s.ee shopkeeper a fresh supply of beer and brandy, and again reduced himself to much the same state as that in which he was first found. The intoxicating liquids were again taken from him, placed under lock and key, and then two Sepoys were placed on guard night and day at Mr. M.'s bungalow to prevent the entrance of anything whatever not ordered by my brother. Mr. M., on finding himself thus forcibly controlled, was at first so furious and violent that it became necessary to employ peons to restrain him and prevent him from making his escape.

When he found that neither threats, nor force, nor bribes would avail either to procure him liquor or favour his escape from control, he became sullen and morose, and refused even to speak in answer to questions. Lieutenant Mitchel had all along felt a great interest in the case, and had furnished the guard in the frankest and readiest manner.

Very early one morning he met my brother en route to visit Mr. M. 'I'll go with you,' said Mitchel, 'if you have no objection.' 'None in the world,' returned my brother. 'You have seen the patient several times; you saw him when I first took charge of him, and you know how persistently he has destroyed his chances of getting better.' 'Yes,'

replied Mitchel, 'he has done all you say; the madness for drink has got hold of him, and until this rage or madness moderates or pa.s.ses away for the time, I fear you will get no good of him; but still, I pity the poor devil!' 'Oh, pity him as much as you please,' returned my brother, 'so long as you don't give him anything to drink.' This brought the speakers to M.'s house. They went upstairs almost together, and as they entered his room they perceived that he was lying on his cot in his shirt and long drawers.

As my brother approached him to feel his pulse and skin, his features a.s.sumed a very ugly scowl, and at the same time he put his right hand under his pillow. This action my brother did not notice at the instant, but Mitchel did, and as quick as light pinned M.'s hand with both his. A struggle ensued; my brother held down M.'s left hand while Mitchel drew out the right, grasping a large carving-knife, which he had secreted under his pillow. It was quickly taken from him by the superior force present, and although he made desperate efforts to disengage his right hand, Mitchel's double grip was too firm for him. He kept his hand on the bed while the others unclasped the fingers, thus no one was wounded.

It was clear that Mitchel's quick eye and movement had saved my brother's life. Speaking of the affair afterwards, Mitchel said: 'I did not like the look he gave at you, and when, in reply to your request to let you feel his pulse, he put his hand under the pillow, I suspected something, and luckily, on the impulse of the moment, pinned his hand.'

'Luckily indeed for me,' said my brother; 'six inches of cold steel under one's ribs is not a pleasant experience at any time of day; yet I should certainly have had to make it this fine morning but for you. I cannot well thank you; your own manly heart will do it for me better than my poor words can.'

'Halt, dress!' said Mitchel; 'none of your heroics. I'm right glad, though, that none of us got hurt; that's a very ugly sort of weapon, that long pointed knife, at close quarters especially.'

All this pa.s.sed in less than two minutes; then the maniac, for such the man was at the time, was carefully secured by soft bandages, his head was shaved, and cold lotion constantly applied to it. Every knife and fork in the house was kept out of the room, he was allowed no food but what he could take with a spoon, and a constant guard was kept in the room as well as at the door.

As Mitchel and my brother were leaving the poor victim of alcoholic stimulation, G. came up to them to inquire how M. was going on. Poor G.

turned quite pale on learning how near murder had been to them that morning, and specially near to my brother. However, he soon rallied, and, after a few words of congratulation, he said: 'This day week I hold you both engaged to dine with me; I mean to give a dinner in honour of Mitchel for this morning's work.'

'All right,' said Mitchel, 'I'll be most happy to go and punish your champagne; but don't make mountains of molehills; don't exhibit me as a sort of wild animal of a new species just caught; don't do that, pray.

The Doctor was going to launch out into something, but I managed to stop him, as I must try and stop you.'

'Very well,' said G., 'as you are to be the king of the feast, you must have your own way, and we won't say one word as to why it is given. We won't even ask if a knife has a sharp point or a keen edge.'

'For fear of its wounding or cutting me,' said Mitchel. 'That's capital; I always thought you a comical blade.'

'What, Mitchel, at it again? You are, I see, determined to try the temper of the blade,' observed my brother.

'Oh, stop that fellow with his heroics and his _ribaldry_. When he begins, there's no chance for me.'

'Why so cranky, Mitchel? But for you, I should not this morning have a _rib all dry_.'

'That shows you all the more ungrateful. You won't let a fellow have a chance.'

'Quite the contrary,' said my brother; 'it is you that won't let a fellow have a chance. M. tried hard to get one at me this morning, but you wouldn't let him have it.'

'Good-morning, good-morning,' said Mitchel; 'that fellow's got tongue enough for a dozen. I'm off.'

'No, no,' said G.; 'come and breakfast with me. I can't ask the Doctor; he has to go to his wife. How I pity him! But, poor fellow! he can't help it now.'

'Well, don't be envious of your neighbours, G.,' returned my brother; 'it looks strongly as if you were determined to follow my good example.'

And so the trio, with jest and raillery, and in high good humour with all the world and themselves, parted.

Great was the stir, and much was the commotion, in the little community of Tollicherry, when it was known that my brother had been in such imminent peril, and that his life had been saved by the gallantry and prompt.i.tude of Lieutenant Mitchel. The story had to be told over again and again, and the questions to be answered respecting the occurrence could not be enumerated. At last, like every other nine days' wonder, people began to get tired of it, and the dinner to the hero of the tale came in its turn to occupy public attention.

On the morning before that named for the dinner, G. and my brother encountered each other near M.'s bungalow, where my brother had just been. The conversation that ensued referred almost entirely to G.'s coming party. 'I've asked everyone,' said G., 'except V., who is on circuit, and A., who is on leave, and old B., who is sick of the gout.'

'_Sick of the gout!_' returned my brother. 'I should think so. Who wouldn't be that ever had a taste of it?'

'Come, come, Doctor; it's too early in the morning. A man should be scrupulous about taking drams in the morning.'

'Oh, G., G., how can you?--stale, flat, and unprofitable, and hypocritical besides, while pretending to give your friends advice. But tell me who you have got.'

'H. will come,' replied G.; 'but from the distance at which he resides, he stipulates that he is to go as soon as he has had coffee. The Zillah Judge will come too, though I suspect he obtained leave with great difficulty, as he adds, "You will not press me to stay later than half-past nine, as we always retire to rest at 10 p.m." Then Mitchel, our two selves, young B. and old B. (the Captain, I mean), will make up the party.'

'Won't you have the missionary, Mr. G.?'

'No, that I won't; he'd only be a wet blanket,' said G., 'and I don't want any wet blankets--in fact, I never liked them.'

'Poor fellow!' replied my brother. 'How I feel for him! How his bowels will yearn when he hears of a feed that he's not to have a share of!'

'Well,' returned G., 'his bowels may yearn, then; for he won't get a share of mine.'

'He'll be very indignant, if not spiteful,' said my brother. 'You'd better have him; he'll talk about the t.i.the-offering, and quote Leviticus to no end.'

'Well, he certainly will quote Leviticus to no end on this occasion, for I certainly won't have him,' said G.

Young B. and Mitchel then came up, and the whole four then sauntered on to G.'s to take early tea or coffee. While thus engaged, the conversation again turned on guests expected. 'But do you really mean to say,' said young Henry B., 'that H. has got leave to come? I can scarcely credit it. My worthy cousin Harriet would scarcely permit such a breach of discipline.' The conditions under which Mr. H. had accepted the invitation were then made known to him; he burst into a fit of laughter. '"Retire to rest," is it? I wonder how people can tell such open and apparent _terra dilles_!' Then he indulged in another outbreak.

'Faix, as Paddy says, they won't break their hearts with resting, I'll engage!' 'Come, come, Master B., you must behave yourself!' 'Behave herself, did you say? No doubt she does--like an angel under trying circ.u.mstances.' 'Challenge him, Mitchel, to a game at billiards--do anything to arrest his wicked conversation,' said G. 'Remember my respectability is at stake.' 'Oh,' said B., 'it's three to one against you; what's it in--ponies?' 'Worse and worse!' replied G. 'First he throws away his loose words, and now he wants to throw away his loose cash.' 'Oh, you cave in, do you?' said B. 'Well, so be it; but now I'm going to be serious.' His eyes were dancing with laughter, and the internal chuckling was so overpowering that he could scarcely speak.

'I've got a little plan in my head----' 'A maggar, or anything else that's lively,' interposed Mitchel. 'No,' replied B., 'I wouldn't deprive you for the world; but it's this: If we all set to work carefully, set all our watches an hour slow, and you, G., set all your clocks to the same time, it will be our own fault if we can't persuade H. that his watch is an hour fast.'

'Oh, that will never do!' replied G. 'Mrs. H. always sends his palankeen for him at the time appointed, and he always goes by that, and with that, or in that, if you prefer it.' 'That's capital,' said Henry B.; 'that will make all sure. I will go out when the man I shall set to watch tells me that the palkee is coming, and direct the bearers to take it to the back of the G.o.downs, and to wait there till Mr. H. sends for them; and then if your butler provides them a good curry and rice, and the wherewithal to wash it down, I'll be bound they won't disturb their master.' 'On my word,' said G., 'it looks promising! I've really half a mind to try it. But will you, all of you, loyally support me and back me up?' 'Of course they will,' said young B.; 'only you resolve to have a whole mind, and not a half one, every man will be steadfast and true.'

'You may count upon one man, at least,' said Mitchel. My brother, led away by the spirit of fun and frolic, confesses that he also promised to be one of the conspirators, and to aid and abet as far as in him lay.

'Oh, but there's still old Captain B.!' said Mitchel. 'Never mind him,'

said G. 'I will undertake to seduce him, though I'm not a blooming young maiden of bashful fifteen.' 'Who's wicked now, I wonder?' said Henry B.

'Now's the day and now's the hour,' said Mitchel, as he entered G.'s dining-room. 'And "see the conquering hero comes,"' said my brother.

'That's the text on the present occasion.' 'No, no, Doctor, it's agreed we're to have none of that.' 'Well,' returned my brother, 'it reminds me very much of Scott's story in "Guy Mannering," which records how a number of the porters, criers, and others of like degree attached to a High Court of Judicature were, for the nonce, appointed to determine the difficult and intricate questions arising from a long dormant claim of inheritance, the essential conditions required being that those who were to determine the case should be men of _no knowledge_. So we are met to do honour to a certain valiant knight, but are not to describe or specify his achievements. On my word it's delightful: nothing can so present the "Lucus a non lucendo" principle more luminously.' 'But _I_ say,' said Mitchel, 'we are here a.s.sembled to punish G.'s good things, and not to carry out any visionary ideas of vain glorification and self-laudation, simply to rejoice in the conviction that "all's well that ends well."' 'So be it,' said G.; 'and here comes Hooper,' who was greeted cordially by all present. How could it be otherwise? I never knew the man who did not like and respect him. He was greatly amused at hearing of the conditions of the feast. 'Truly, you ought to be called the club of Odd Fellows; but _chacun a son got_. It's a relief to me, as, otherwise, I should, I suppose, have been called upon for a speech.'

'Oh,' said G., 'you will certainly have to make a speech, and it must be in honour of Mitchel. The only peculiarity is that you are not to say what he is to be honoured for.' 'That's the regulation, is it?' said H., laughing. 'Again I say you certainly have earned the t.i.tle of Odd Fellows; besides, I don't see how such a whimsical regulation can be complied with.' 'You'll see your way out of it, never fear,' said Mitchel, 'when you have had a few gla.s.ses of cote d'or.' 'I hope I shall, but I don't now,' replied H.

Mr. Henry B., Mr. H., and Captain Brennan now made their appearance. The newcomers were warmly welcomed, and almost immediately afterwards dinner was announced. Dinners are so much alike that it would be almost an impertinence to enter into details; it is enough to a.s.sure those interested in such matters that the champagne and claret, the soda-water, etc., were all properly refrigerated, and the punkah-pullers did their duty. The table was a round one, and the party seven, so that the conversation was general.

After the feeding was over, and the wine had circulated two or three times, the gathering became a very merry one. By-and-by Mr. Hooper was called on by the host to give the toast of the evening, but requested to bear in mind the conditions imposed. Mr. H. rose and spoke thus: 'Gentlemen, I have been requested by our worthy host, under certain conditions, to propose a toast. I can truly say that no gentleman rising in a certain honourable House to deliver his maiden speech ever felt himself in a position of greater difficulty than I do at this moment.

Were I a new Demosthenes, or a Cicero, or both rolled into one, it would still be difficult to speak of a n.o.ble action without referring to it, without describing it, and without stating what it averted. This being so, I must leave you, who feel on this subject, I am sure, as much as I do myself, to interpret my feelings for me, and to imagine all that I would have said, had not your special regulation, by which you have fairly earned the designation of Odd Fellows, prevented me. Neither do I forget the old saying regarding brevity; therefore, in proposing Lieutenant Mitchel's health, which I trust will be drunk with all the honours, I beg leave to say that in my heart I believe I am proposing the health of as brave and generous and n.o.ble-hearted an officer as there is in the service, and if I knew of anything stronger than this to say in his praise I would say it. Gentlemen and friends, I beg to propose the health of Lieutenant Mitchel, of the ---- Regiment, M.N.I.'

As Mr. H. sat down there was most vociferous cheering, clapping, etc., and Mitchel's health was drunk in the most approved fashion.

Lieutenant Mitchel now stood up and said: 'Gentlemen, speechifying isn't my line; therefore I feel sure that you will not insist on my attempting what I know I can't do. But, gentlemen, pray believe me when I say that I feel your kindness most deeply, though I have not the gift of words to express it. I beg to drink all your healths, and thank you heartily for the manner in which you have drunk mine. I also beg to thank Mr. H.

especially for the kind and handsome way he has spoken of me.'

'Bravo, Mitchel! A very good speech indeed!' said Mr. G., as soon as the shouting and hip-hipping allowed him to be heard. 'Now, Doctor, we must call upon you, who, after all, are the most interested in this affair.'