Blue Lights: Hot Work in the Soudan

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  OLD FRIENDS IN NEW ASPECTS.

  On the evening of the third day after the conversation narrated in thelast chapter, Sergeant Hardy sat in an easy-chair on the verandah of theSoldiers' Institute at Alexandria, in the enjoyment of a refreshingbreeze, which, after ruffling the blue waters of the Mediterranean, camelike a cool hand on a hot brow, to bless for a short time the land ofEgypt.

  Like one of Aladdin's palaces the Institute had sprung up--not exactlyin a night, but in a marvellously short space of time. There was moreof interest about it, too, than about the Aladdin buildings; for whereasthe latter were evolved magically out of that mysterious and undefinableregion termed Nowhere, the Miss Robinson edifice came direct from smoky,romantic London, without the advantage of supernatural assistance.

  When Miss Robinson's soldier friends were leaving for the seat of war inEgypt, some of them had said to her, "Three thousand miles from home arethree thousand good reasons why you should think of us!" The "Soldiers'Friend" took these words to heart--also to God. She did think of them,and she persuaded other friends to think of them, to such good purposethat she soon found herself in possession of funds sufficient to beginthe work.

  As we have seen, her energetic servant and fellow-worker, Mr ThomasTufnell, was sent out to Egypt to select a site for the building. Theold iron and wood Oratory at Brompton was bought, and sent out atGovernment expense--a fact which speaks volumes for the Governmentopinion of the value of Miss Robinson's work among soldiers.

  In putting up the old Oratory, Tufnell had transformed it to an extentthat might almost have made Aladdin's Slave of the Lamp jealous.Certainly, those who were wont to "orate" in the building when it stoodin Brompton would have failed to recognise the edifice as it arose inEgypt on the Boulevard Ramleh, between the Grand Square of Alexandriaand the sea.

  The nave of the old Oratory had been converted into a room, ninety-ninefeet long, with couches and tables running down both sides, abilliard-table in the centre, writing materials in abundance, andpictures on the walls. At one end of the room stood a pianoforte,couches, and easy-chairs, and a door opened into a garden facing thesea. Over the door were arranged several flags, and above these, inlarge letters, the appropriate words, "In the name of the Lord will weset up our banners." At the other end was a temperance refreshment bar.On a verandah facing the sea men could repose on easy-chairs and smoketheir pipes or cigars, while contemplating the peculiarities of anEastern climate.

  It was here that our friend Sergeant Hardy was enjoying that blessedstate of convalescence which may be described as gazing straight forwardand thinking of nothing!

  Of course there were all the other appliances of a well-equippedInstitute--such as sleeping-cabins, manager's room, Bible-class room,lavatory, and all the rest of it, while a handsome new stone buildingclose beside it contained sitting-rooms, bed-rooms, club-room forofficers, kitchens, and, by no means least, though last, a largelecture-hall.

  But to these and many other things we must not devote too much space,for old friends in new aspects claim our attention. Only, in passingfrom such details, it may not be out of place to say that it has beenremarked that the sight of Miss Robinson's buildings, steadily risingfrom the midst of acres of ruins, while men's minds were agitated by thebombardment and its results, produced a sense of security which had amost beneficial and quietening effect on the town! Indeed, one officerof high rank went so far as to say that the Institute scheme had giventhe inhabitants more confidence in the intentions of England thananything yet done or promised by Government!

  In a rocking-chair beside the sergeant reclined a shadow in loose--remarkably loose--fitting soldier's costume.

  "What a blessed place to sit in and rest after the toils and sufferingsof war," said Hardy, to the shadow, "and how thankful I am to God forbringing me here!"

  "It's a hivenly place intirely," responded the shadow, "an' 'tis mesilfas is thankful too--what's left o' me anyhow, an' that's not much. SureI've had some quare thoughts in me mind since I come here. Wan o' themwas--what is the smallest amount o' skin an' bone that's capable ofhowldin' a thankful spirit?"

  "I never studied algebra, Flynn, so it's of no use puttin' the questionto me," said Hardy; "besides, I'm not well enough yet to tackledifficult questions, but I'm real glad to see you, my boy, though there_is_ so little of you to see."

  "That's it, sarjint; that's just where it lies," returned Flynn, in aslow, weak voice. "I've bin occupied wi' that question too--namely, howthin may a man git widout losin' the power to howld up his clo'es?"

  "You needn't be uneasy on that score," said Hardy, casting an amusedglance at his companion, "for there's plenty o' flesh left yet to keepye goin' till you get to old Ireland. It rejoices my heart to see youbeside me, thin though you are, for the report up country was that youhad died on the way to Suez."

  "Bad luck to their reports! That's always the way of it. I do thinkthe best way to take reports is to belaive the exact opposite o' what'stowld ye, an' so ye'll come nearest the truth. It's thrue I had a closeshave. Wan day I felt a sort o' light-hiddedness--as if I was a kind o'livin' balloon--and was floatin' away, whin the doctor came an' lookedat me.

  "`He's gone,' says he.

  "`That's a lie!' says I, with more truth than purliteness, maybe.

  "An' would ye belave it?--I began to mind from that hour! It was thedoctor saved me widout intindin' to--good luck to him! Anyhow he kep'me from slippin' my cable that time, but it was the good nursin' asbrought me back--my blissin' on the dear ladies as give their hearts tothis work all for love! By the way," continued Flynn, coughing andlooking very stern, for he was ashamed of a tear or two which _would_rise and almost overflow in spite of his efforts to restrain them--butthen, you see, he was very weak! "By the way," he said, "you'll niverguess who wan o' the nurses is. Who d'ee think?--guess!"

  "I never _could_ guess right, Flynn."

  "Try."

  "Well, little Mrs Armstrong."

  "Nonsense, man! Why, she's nursin' her old father in England, Is'pose."

  "Miss Robinson, then?"

  "H'm! You might as well say the Prime Minister. How d'ee s'pose thePortsmuth Institute could git along widout _her_? No, it's our friendMrs Drew!"

  "What! The wife o' the reverend gentleman as came out with us in thetroop-ship?"

  "That same--though she's no longer the wife of the riverend gintleman,for he's dead--good man," said Flynn, in a sad voice.

  "I'm grieved to hear that, for he _was_ a good man. And the prettydaughter, what of her?"

  "That's more nor I can tell ye, boy. Sometimes her mother brings her tothe hospital to let her see how they manage, but I fancy she thinks hertoo young yet to go in for sitch work by hersilf. Anyhow I've seen heronly now an' then; but the poor widdy comes rig'lar--though I do belaveshe does it widout pay. The husband died of a flyer caught in thehospital a good while since. They say that lots o' young fellows areafther the daughter, for though the Drews are as poor as church rats,she's got such a swate purty face, and such innocent ways wid her, thatI'd try for her mesilf av it wasn't that I've swore niver to forsake meowld grandmother."

  Chatting thus about times past and present, while they watched thesoldiers and seamen who passed continuously in and out of theInstitute--intent on a game, or some non-intoxicant refreshment, or alounge, a look at the papers, a confab with a comrade, or a bit ofreading--the two invalids enjoyed their rest to the full, and frequentlyblessed the lady who provided such a retreat, as well as herwarm-hearted assistants, who, for the love of Christ and human souls,had devoted themselves to carry on the work in that far-off land.

  "I often think--" said Hardy.

  But what he thought was never revealed; for at that moment two ladies indeep mourning approached, whom the sergeant recognised at a glance asMrs Drew and her daughter Marion. The faces of both were pale andsorrowful; but the beauty of the younger was rather enhanced thanotherwise by this, and by contrast with h
er sombre garments.

  They both recognised the sergeant at once, and, hastening forward, so asto prevent his rising, greeted him with the kindly warmth of oldfriends.

  "It seems such a long time since we met," said the elder lady, "but wehave never forgotten you or the comrades with whom we used to have suchpleasant talks in the troop-ship."

  "Sure am I, madam," said the sergeant, "that they have never forgotten_you_ and your kind--kind--"

  "Yes, my husband was _very_ kind to you all," said the widow, observingthe delicacy of feeling which stopped the soldier's utterance; "he waskind to every one. But we have heard some rumours that have made me andmy daughter very sad. Is it true that a great many men of your regimentwere killed and wounded at the battle fought by General McNeill?"

  "Quite true, madam," answered the sergeant, glancing at the daughterwith some surprise; for Marion was gazing at him with an intenselyanxious look and parted lips. "But, thank God, many were spared!"

  "And--and--how are the two fine-looking young men that were so fond ofeach other--like twins almost--"

  "Sure, didn't I tell ye, misthress, that they was both ki--"

  "Hold your tongue, Flynn," interrupted the widow, with a forced smile."You are one of my most talkative patients! I want to hear the truth ofthis matter from a man who has come more recently from the scene ofaction than yourself. What do you think, Mr Hardy?"

  "You refer to John Miles and William Armstrong, no doubt, madam," saidthe sergeant, in a somewhat encouraging tone. "Well, if Flynn says theywere killed he has no ground whatever for saying so. They are onlyreported missing. Of course that is bad enough, but as long as a man isonly missing there is plenty of room for hope. You see, they may havemanaged to hide, or been carried off as prisoners into the interior; andyou may be sure the Arabs would not be such fools as to kill two menlike Miles and Armstrong; they'd rather make slaves of 'em, in whichcase there will be a chance of their escaping, or, if we should becomefriendly again wi' these fellows, they'd be set free."

  "I'm so glad to hear you say so, and I felt sure that my despondingpatient here was taking too gloomy a view of the matter," said MrsDrew, with a significant glance at Marion, who seemed to breathe morefreely and to lose some of her anxious expression after the sergeant'sremarks.

  Perhaps at this point a little conversation that took place between MrsDrew and her daughter that same evening may not be out of place.

  "Dear May," said the former, "did I not tell you that Flynn took toogloomy a view of the case of these young soldiers, in whom your dearfather was so much interested? But, darling, is it not foolish in youto think so much about Miles?"

  "It may be foolish, mother, but I cannot help it," said Marion, blushingdeeply; for she was very modest as well as simple.

  "May, dear, I wonder that you can make such an admission!" said themother remonstratively.

  "Is it wrong to make such an admission to one's own mother, when it istrue?" asked Marion, still blushing, but looking straight in hermother's eyes; for she was very straightforward as well as modest andsimple!

  "Of course not, dear, but--but--in short, Miles is only a--a--soldier,you know, and--"

  "_Only_ a soldier!" interrupted Marion, with a flash from her soft browneyes; for she was an enthusiast as well as straightforward, modest, andsimple! "I suppose you mean that he is only a private, but what then?May not the poorest private in the army rise, if he be but noble-mindedand worthy and capable, to the rank of a general, or higher--if there isanything higher? Possibly the Commander-in-Chief-ship may be open tohim!"

  "True, my love, but in the meantime his social position is--"

  "Is quite as good as our own," interrupted Marion; for she was adesperate little radical as well as an enthusiast, straightforward,modest, and simple!

  "You know he let out something about his parents and position, and _ofcourse_ he told the truth. Besides, I repeat that I cannot _help_loving him, and surely we are not responsible for our affections. Wecannot love and hate to order. I might fall in love with--with--well,it's no good talking; but, anyhow, I could not help it. I could besilent if you like, but I could not help myself."

  Mrs Drew seemed a little puzzled how to deal with her impetuousdaughter, and had begun to reply, when May interrupted her. Flushingdeeply, for she was very sensitive, and with a feeling that amountedalmost to indignation, she continued--

  "I wonder at you, mother--it's so unlike you; as if those unworthyconsiderations of difference of rank and station could influence, orought to influence, one in such a question as this!"

  Mrs Drew paused for a moment. She knew that her daughter gaveexpression to the views that had marked the dealings of the husband andfather, so lately lost to them, in every action of his life. Marion'shappiness, too, during the remainder of her days, might be involved inthe result of the present conversation, and she was moved to say--

  "My dear, has John Miles ever spoken to you?"

  "Oh! mother, how can you ask me? If he had done so, would I havedelayed one minute in letting you know?"

  "Forgive me, dearest. I did you wrong in admitting the thought even fora moment. But you spoke so earnestly--as if you might have some reasonfor thinking that he cared for you."

  "Don't you know," answered Marion, looking down, and a little confused,"that men can speak with their eyes as well as their lips? I not onlyfeel sure that he cares for me, but I feel sure, from the sentiments heexpressed to me on the voyage, that _nothing_ would induce him to talkto me of love while in his present position."

  "How does all this consist, my love," asked Mrs Drew, "with yourknowledge of the fact that he left home in anger, and would not bepersuaded, even by your dear father, to write home a penitent letter?"

  Marion was silent. This had not occurred to her before. But love isnot to be turned from its object by trifles. She was all that we havemore than once described her to be; but she was not a meta-physician ora philosopher, capable of comprehending and explaining occult mysteries.Enough for her if she loved Miles and Miles loved her, and then, evenif he did not deserve her love, she would remain true--secretly butunalterably true--to him as the needle is to the pole!

  "Has it not occurred to you, dear," said her mother, pursuing heradvantage in a meditative tone, "that if Miles has been so plain-spokenand eloquent with his blue eye, that your pretty brown ones may havesaid something to _him_?"

  "Never!" exclaimed the girl, with an indignant flash. "Oh! mother, canyou believe me capable of--of--no, I never looked at him except with theair of a perfect stranger--at least of a--a--but why should I try todeny what could not possibly be true?"

  Mrs Drew felt that nothing was to be gained from pursuing the subject--or one aspect of it--further.

  "At any rate," she said, "I am glad, for his own sake, poor youngfellow, that Sergeant Hardy spoke so hopefully."

  "And for his comrades' sakes as well," said Marion. "You know, mother,that his friend Armstrong is also reported as missing, and Stevenson themarine, as well as that dear big bluff sailor, Jack Molloy. By the way,do you feel well enough to go to the lecture to-night? It is to be avery interesting one, I am told, with magic-lantern illustrations, and Idon't like to go alone."

  "I am going to-night, so you may make your mind easy," said her mother."I would not miss this lecturer, because I am told that he is aremarkably good one, and the hall is likely to be quite full."

  In regard to this lecture and some other things connected with theAlexandrian Institute, our friend Sergeant Hardy learned a good dealfrom the lady at the head of it, not long after the time that Mrs Drewhad the foregoing conversation with Marion.

  It is scarcely needful to say that the Lady-Superintendent was a capableChristian as well as an enthusiast in her work.

  "Come to my room, Sergeant Hardy, and I'll tell you all about it," shesaid, leading the way to her apartment, where the sergeant placedhimself upon a chair, bolt upright, as if he were going to have a toothdrawn, or were about to ill
ustrate some new species of sitting-drill.