The Works of Rudyard Kipling Part 151

Capt. G. You can laugh! That's all you wild a.s.ses of bachelors are fit for.

Capt. M. (Drawling.) You never would wait for the troop to come up. You aren't quite married yet, y'know.

Capt. G. Ugh! That reminds me. I don't believe I shall be able to get into any boots Let's go home and try 'em on (Hurries forward.)

Capt. M. 'Wouldn't be in your shoes for anything that Asia has to offer.

Capt. G. (Spinning round.) That just shows your hideous blackness of soul--your dense stupidity--your brutal narrow-mindedness. There's only one fault about you. You're the best of good fellows, and I don't know what I should have done without you, but--you aren't married. (Wags his head gravely.) Take a wife, Jack.

Capt. M. (With a face like a wall.) Ya-as. Whose for choice?

Capt. G. If you're going to be a blackguard, I'm going on--What's the time?

Capt. M. (Hums.) An' since 'twas very clear we drank only ginger-beer, Faith, there must ha' been some stingo in the ginger. Come back, you maniac. I'm going to take you home, and you're going to lie down.

Capt. G. What on earth do I want to lie down for?

Capt. M. Give me a light from your cheroot and see.

Capt. G. (Watching cheroot-b.u.t.t quiver like a tuning-fork.) Sweet state I'm in!

Capt. M. You are. I'll get you a peg and you'll go to sleep.

They return and M. compounds a four-finger peg.

Capt. G. O bus! bus! It'll make me as drunk as an owl.

Capt. M. 'Curious thing, 'twon't have the slightest effect on you. Drink it off, chuck yourself down there, and go to bye-bye.

Capt. G. It's absurd. I sha'n't sleep, I know I sha'n't!

Falls into heavy doze at end of seven minutes. Capt. M. watches him tenderly.

Capt. M. Poor old Gadsby! I've seen a few turned off before, but never one who went to the gallows in this condition. 'Can't tell how it affects 'em, though. It's the thoroughbreds that sweat when they're backed into double-harness.--And that's the man who went through the guns at Amdheran like a devil possessed of devils. (Leans over G.) But this is worse than the guns, old pal--worse than the guns, isn't it? (G.

turns in his sleep, and M. touches him clumsily on the forehead.) Poor, dear old Gaddy! Going like the rest of 'em--going like the rest of 'em--Friend that sticketh closer than a brother--eight years. Dashed bit of a slip of a girl--eight weeks! And--where's your friend? (Smokes disconsolately till church clock strikes three.)

Capt. M. Up with you! Get into your kit.

Capt. C. Already? Isn't it too soon? Hadn't I better have a shave?

Capt. M. No! You're all right. (Aside.) He'd chip his chin to pieces.

Capt. C. What's the hurry?

Capt. M. You've got to be there first.

Capt. C. To be stared at?

Capt. M. Exactly. You're part of the show. Where's the burnisher? Your spurs are in a shameful state.

Capt. G. (Gruffly.) Jack, I be d.a.m.ned if you shall do that for me.

Capt. M. (More gruffly.) Dry up and get dressed! If I choose to clean your spurs, you're under my orders.

Capt. G. dresses. M. follows suit.

Capt. M. (Critically, walking round.) M'--yes, you'll do. Only don't look so like a criminal. Ring, gloves, fees--that's all right for me.

Let your moustache alone. Now, if the ponies are ready, we'll go.

Capt. G. (Nervously.) It's much too soon. Let's light up! Let's have a peg! Let's--

Capt. M. Let's make bally a.s.ses of ourselves!

BELLS. (Without.)--"Good-peo-ple-all To prayers-we call."

Capt. M. There go the bells! Come on--unless you'd rather not. (They ride off.)

BELLS.--"We honor the King And Brides joy do bring--Good tidings we tell, And ring the Dead's knell."

Capt. G. (Dismounting at the door of the Church.) I say, aren't we much too soon? There are no end of people inside. I say, aren't we much too late? Stick by me, Jack! What the devil do I do?

Capt. M. Strike an att.i.tude at the head of the aisle and wait for Her.

(G. groans as M. wheels him into position before three hundred eyes.)

Capt. M. (Imploringly.) Gaddy, if you love me, for pity's sake, for the Honor of the Regiment, stand up! Chuck yourself into your uniform! Look like a man! I've got to speak to the Padre a minute. (G. breaks into a gentle Perspiration.) If you wipe your face I'll never be your best man again. Stand up! (G. trembles visibly.)

Capt. M. (Returning.) She's coming now. Look out when the music starts.

There's the organ beginning to clack.

Bride steps out of 'rickshaw at Church door. G. catches a glimpse of her and takes heart.

ORGAN.--"The Voice that breathed o'er Eden, That earliest marriage day, The primal marriage-blessing, It hath not pa.s.sed away."

Capt. M. (Watching G.) By Jove! He is looking well. 'Didn't think he had it in him.

Capt. G. How long does this hymn go on for?

Capt. M. It will be over directly. (Anxiously.) (Beginning to bleach and gulp.) Hold on, Gabby, and think 'o the Regiment.

Capt. G. (Measuredly.) I say, there's a big brown lizard crawling up that wall.

Capt. M. My Sainted Mother! The last stage of collapse!

Bride comes up to left of altar, lifts her eyes once to G., who is suddenly smitten mad.

Capt. G. (To himself again and again.) Little Featherweight's a woman--a woman! And I thought she was a little girl.

Capt. M. (In a whisper.) Form the halt--inward wheel.