George Fenn - Midnight Webs

Chunder tried all he could to stop it; but it was of no use, for Harry had got such influence over that animal, that when one day he was coaxing him out to lead him under some trees, and the mahout tried to stop him, Nabob makes no more ado, but lifts his great soft trunk, and rolls Mr Chunder Chow over into the grass, where he lay screeching like a parrot, and chattering like a monkey, rolling his opal eyeballs, and showing his white teeth with fear; for he expected that Nabob was going to put his foot on him and crush him to death, as is the nature of those great beasts. But not he; he only lays his trunk gently on Harry’s shoulder, and follows him across the open like a great flesh-mountain, winking his little pig’s eyes, whisking his tiny tail, and flapping his great ears; while the children clapped their hands as they stood in the shade with Miss Ross and Lizzy, and Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh close behind.

“There’s no call to be afraid, miss,” says Harry, saluting as he saw Miss Ross shrink back; and seeing how, when he said a few words in Hindustani, the great animal minded him, they stopped being afraid, and gave Harry fruit and cakes with which to feed the great beast.

You see, out there in that great dull place, people are very glad to have any little trifle to amuse them; so you mustn’t be surprised to hear that there used to be quite a crowd to see Harry Lant’s performances, as he called them. But all the same, I didn’t like his upsetting old Chunder Chow; and it seemed to me, even then, that we’d managed to make another black enemy – the black ayah being the first.

However, Harry used to go on making old Nabob kneel down, or shake hands, or curl up his trunk, or lift him up, finishing off by going up to his head, lifting one great ear, saying they understood one another, whispering a few words, and then shutting the ear up again, so as the words shouldn’t be lost before they got into the elephant’s brain, as Harry explained, because they’d got a long way to go. Then Harry would lie down, and let the great beast walk backwards and forwards all over him, lifting his great feet so carefully, and setting them down close to Harry, but never touching him, except one day when, just as the great beast was passing his foot over Harry’s breast, a voice called out something in Hindustani – and I knew who it was, though I didn’t see – when Nabob puts his foot down on Harry’s chest, and Lizzy gave a loud scream, and we all thought the poor chap would be crushed; but not he: the great beast was took by surprise, but only for an instant; and in his slow quiet way he steps aside, and then touches Harry all over with his trunk; and there was no more performance that day.

“I’ve got my knife into Master Chunder for that,” says Harry to me; “for I’ll swear that was his voice.” And I started to find he had known it.

“I wouldn’t quarrel with him,” I says quietly; “for it strikes me he’s got his knife into you.”

“You’ve no idea,” says Harry, “what a nip it was. I thought it was all over; but all the same, the poor brute didn’t mean it, I’d swear.”

Who could have thought just then that all that nonsense of Harry Lant’s with the elephant was shaping itself for our good? But so it was, as you shall by and by hear. The march continued, matters seeming to go on very smoothly; but only seeming, mind you; for let alone that we were all walking upon a volcano, there was ever so much unpleasantry brewing. Let alone my feeling that, somehow or another, Harry Lant was not so good a mate to me as he used to be, there was a good deal wrong between Captain Dyer and Lieutenant Leigh, and it soon seemed plain that there was much more peace and comfort in our camp a week earlier than there was at the time of which I am now writing.

I used to have my turns as sentry here and there; and it was when standing stock-still with my piece, that I used to see and hear so much; for in a camp it seems to be a custom for people to look upon a sentry as a something that can neither see nor hear anything but what might come in the shape of an enemy. They know he must not move from his post, which is to say that he’s tied hand and foot; and perhaps from that they think that he’s tied as to his senses. At all events, I got to see that when Miss Ross, was seated in the colonel’s tent, and Captain Dyer was near her, she seemed to grow gentle and quiet, and her eyes would light up, and her rich red lips part, as she listened to what he was saying; while, when it came to Lieutenant Leigh’s turn, and he was beside her talking, she would be merry and chatty, and would laugh and talk as lively as could be. Harry Lant said it was because they were making up matters, and that some day she would be Mrs Leigh; but I didn’t look at it in that light, though I said nothing.

I used to like to be sentry at the colonel’s tent, on our halting for the night, when the canvas would be looped up, to let in the air, and they’d got their great globe-lamps lit, with the tops to them, to keep out the flies, and the draughts made by the punkahs swinging backwards and forwards. I used to think it quite a pretty sight, with the ladies and the three or four officers, perhaps chatting, perhaps having a little music, for Miss Ross could sing like – like a nightingale, I was going to say; but no nightingale that I ever heard could seem to lay hold of your heart, and almost bring tears into your eyes, as she did. Then she used to sing duets with Captain Dyer, because the colonel wished it, though it was plain to see Mrs Maine didn’t like it, any more than did Lieutenant Leigh, who more than once, as I’ve seen, walked out, looking fierce and angry, to strike off right away from the camp, perhaps not to come back for a couple of hours.

It was one night when we’d been about a fortnight on the way, for during the past week the colonel had been letting us go on very easily, I was sentry at the tent. There had been some singing, and Lieutenant Leigh had gone off in the middle of a duet. Then the doctor, the colonel, and a couple of subs were busy over a game at whist, and the black nurse had beckoned Mrs Maine out, I suppose to see something about the two children; when Captain Dyer and Miss Ross walked together just outside the tent, she holding by one of the cords, and he standing close beside her.

They did not say much, but stood looking up at the bright silver moon and the twinkling stars; while he said a word now and then about the beauty of the scene, the white tents, the twinkling lights here and there, and the soft peaceful aspect of all around; and then his voice seemed to grow lower and deeper as he spoke from time to time, though I could hardly hear a word, as I stood there like a statue watching Miss Ross’s beautiful face, with the great clusters of hair knotted back from her broad white forehead, the moon shining full on it, and seeming to make her eyes flash as they were turned to him.

They must have stood there full half an hour, when she turned as if to go back; but he laid his hand upon hers as it held the tent-cord, and said something very earnestly, when she turned to him again to look him full in the face, and I saw that her hand was not moved.

Then they were silent for a few seconds before he spoke again, loud enough for me to hear.

“I must ask you,” he said huskily; “my peace depends upon it. I know that it has always been understood that you were to be introduced to Lieutenant Leigh. I can see now plainly enough what are your sister’s wishes; but hearts are ungovernable, Miss Ross; and I tell you earnestly, as a simple truth-speaking man, that you have roused feelings that until now slept quietly in my breast. If I am presumptuous, forgive me – love is bold as well as timid – but at least set me at rest: tell me, is there any engagement between you and Lieutenant Leigh?”