The Half-Hearted

by John Buchan

  CHAPTER XXV

  MRS. LOGAN'S BALL

  When Lewis had finished breakfast next morning, and was sitting idly onthe verandah watching the busy life of the bazaar at his feet, a letterwas brought him by a hotel servant. "It was left for you by MarkerSahib, when he went away this morning. He sent his compliments to thesahibs and regretted that he had to leave too early to speak with them,but he left this note." Lewis broke the envelope and read:

  /# DEAR MR. HAYSTOUN,

  When I was thinking over our conversation last night, chance put a piece of information in my way which you may think fit to use. You know that I am more intimate than most people with the hill tribes. Well, let this be the guarantee of my news, but do not ask how I got it, for I cannot betray friends. Some of these, the Bada-Mawidi to wit, are meditating mischief. The Forza camp, which I think you have visited--a place some twenty miles off--is too near those villages to be safe. So to-morrow at latest they have planned to make a general attack upon it, and, unless the garrison were prepared, I should fear for the result, for they are the most cunning scoundrels in the world. What puzzles me is how they have ever screwed up the courage for such a move, for lately they were very much in fear of the Government. It appears as if they looked for backing from over the frontier. You will say that this proves your theory; but to me it merely seems as if some maniac of the Gromchevtsky type had got among them. In any case I wish something could be done. My duties take me away at once, and in a very different direction, but perhaps you could find some means of putting the camp on their guard. I should be sorry to hear of a tragedy; also I should be sorry to see the Bada-Mawidi get into trouble. They are foolish blackguards, but amusing.

  Yours most sincerely,

  ARTHUR MARKER.#/

  Lewis read the strange letter several times through, then passed it toGeorge. George read it with difficulty, not being accustomed to aflowing frontier hand. "Jolly decent of him, I call it," was hisremark.

  "I would give a lot to know what to make of it. The man is playing somegame, but what the deuce it is I can't fathom."

  "I suppose we had better get up to that Forza place as soon as we can."

  "I think not," said Lewis.

  "The man's honest, surely?"

  "But he is also clever. Remember who he is. He may wish to get us outof the way. I don't suppose that he can possibly fear us, but he maywant the coast clear from suspicious spectators. Besides, I don't seethe good of Forza. It is not the part of the hills I want to explore.There can be no frontier danger there, and at the worst there can benothing more than a little tribal disturbance. Now what on earth wouldRussia gain by moving the tribes there, except as a blind?"

  "Still, you know, the man admits all that in his letter. And if thepeople up there are going to be in trouble we ought to go and give themnotice."

  "I'll take an hour to think over it, and then I'll go and see Thwaite.He was to be back this morning."

  Lewis spread the letter before him. It was a simple, friendly note,giving him a chance of doing a good turn to friends. His clear coursewas to lay it before Thwaite and shift the responsibility for action tohis shoulders. But he felt all the while that this letter had apersonal application which he could not conceal. It would have been aseasy for Marker to send the note to Thwaite, whom he had long known.But he had chosen to warn him privately. It might be a ruse, but he hadno glimpse of the meaning. Or, again, it might be a piece of purefriendliness, a chance of unofficial adventure given by one wanderer toanother. He puzzled it out, lamenting that he was so deep in the dark,and cursing his indecision. Another man would have made up his mindlong ago; it was a ruse, therefore let it be neglected and remain inBardur with open eyes; it was good faith and a good chance, thereforelet him go at once. But to Lewis the possibilities seemed endless, andhe could find no solution save the old one of the waverer, to wait forfurther light.

  He found Thwaite at breakfast, just returned from his travels.

  "Hullo, Haystoun. I heard you were here. Awfully glad to see you. Sitdown, won't you, and have some breakfast." The officer was a long man,with a thin, long face, a reddish moustache, and small, blue eyes.

  "I came to ask you questions, if you don't mind. I have the regularglobe-trotter's trick of wanting information. What's the Forza camplike? Do you think that the Bada-Mawidi, supposing they stir again,would be likely to attack it?"

  "Not a bit of it. That was the sort of thing that Gribton was alwayscroaking about. Why, man, the Bada-Mawidi haven't a kick in them.Besides, they are very nearly twenty miles off and the garrison's a veryfit lot. They're all right. Trust them to look after themselves."

  "But I have been hearing stories of Bada-Mawidi risings which are tocome off soon."

  "Oh, you'll always hear stories of that sort. All the old women in theneighbourhood purvey them."

  "Who are in charge at Forza?"

  "Holm and Andover. Don't care much for Holm, but Andy is a good chap.But what's this new interest of yours? Are you going up there?

  "I'm out here to shoot and explore, you know, so Forza comes into mybeat. Thanks very much. See you to-night, I suppose."

  Lewis went away dispirited and out of temper. He had been pitchforkedamong easy-going people, when all the while mysterious things, dangerousthings, seemed to hang in the air. He had not the material for even thefirst stages of comprehension. No one suspected, every one wassatisfied; and at the same time came those broken hints of other things.He felt choked and muffled, wrapped in the cotton-wool of this easylife; and all the afternoon he chafed at his own impotence and theworld's stupidity.

  When the two travellers presented themselves at the Logans' house thatevening, they were immediately seized upon by the hostess and compelled,to their amusement, to do her bidding. They were her discoveries, hernew young men, and as such, they had their responsibilities. George,who liked dancing, obeyed meekly; but Lewis, being out of temper andseeing before him an endless succession of wearisome partners, soonbroke loose, and accompanied Thwaite to the verandah for a cigar.

  The man was ill at ease, and the sight of young faces and the sound oflaughter vexed him with a sense of his eccentricity. He could never,like George, take the world as he found it. At home he was the slave ofhis own incapacity; now he was the slave of memories. He had come outon an errand, with a chance to recover his lost self-respect, and lo!he was as far as ever from attainment. His lost capacity for action wasnot to be found here, in the midst of this petty diplomacy andinglorious ease.

  From the verandah a broad belt of lawn ran down to the edge of the northroad. It lay shining in the moonlight like a field of snow with thehighway a dark ribbon beyond it. Thwaite and Lewis walked down to thegate talking casually, and at the gate they stopped and looked down onthe town. It lay a little to the left, the fort rising black before it,and the road ending in a patch of shade which was the old town gate.The night was very still, cool airs blew noiselessly from the hills, anda jackal barked hoarsely in some far-off thicket.

  The men hung listlessly on the gate, drinking in the cool air andwatching the blue cigar smoke wreathe and fade. Suddenly down the roadthere came the sound of wheels.

  "That's a tonga," said Thwaite. "Wonder who it is."

  "Do tongas travel this road?" Lewis asked.

  "Oh yes, they go ten miles up to the foot of the rocks. We use them forsending up odds and ends to the garrisons. After that coolies are theonly conveyance. Gad, I believe this thing is going to stop."

  The thing in question, which was driven by a sepoy in bright yellowpyjamas, stopped at the Logans' gate. A peevish voice was heard givingdirections from within.

  "It sounds like Holm," said Thwaite, walking up to it, "and upon my soulit is Holm. What on earth are you doing here, my dear fellow?"

  "Is that you, Thwaite?" said the voice. "I wish you'd help me out. Iwant Logan to give me a bed for the night. I'm infernally ill."
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  Lewis looked within and saw a pale face and bloodshot eyes which did notbelie the words.

  "What is it?" said Thwaite. "Fever or anything smashed?"

  "I've got a bullet in my leg which has got to be cut out. Got it twodays ago when I was out shooting. Some natives up in the rocks did it,I fancy. Lord, how it hurts." And the unhappy man groaned as he triedto move.

  "That's bad," said Thwaite sympathetically. "The Logans have got adance on, but we'll look after you all right. How did you leave thingsin Forza?"

  "Bad. I oughtn't to be here, but Andy insisted. He said I would onlyget worse and crock entirely. Things look a bit wild up there just now.There has been a confounded lot of rifle-stealing, and the Bada-Mawidiare troublesome. However, I hope it's only their fun."

  "I hope so," said Thwaite. "You know Haystoun, don't you?"

  "Glad to meet you," said the man. "Heard of you. Coming up our way? Ihope you will after I get this beastly leg of mine better."

  "Thwaite will tell you I have been cross-examining him about your place.I wanted badly to ask you about it, for I got a letter this morning froma man called Marker with some news for you."

  "What did he say?" asked Holm sharply.

  "He said that he had heard privately that the Bada-Mawidi were planningan attack on you to-morrow or the day after."

  "The deuce they are," said Holm peevishly, and Thwaite's facelengthened.

  "And he told me to find some way of letting you know."

  "Then why didn't you tell me earlier?" said Thwaite. "Marker shouldknow if anybody does. We should have kept Holm up there. Now it'salmost too late. Oh, this is the devil!"

  Lewis held his peace. He had forgotten the solidity of Marker'sreputation.

  "What's the chances of the place?" Thwaite was asking. "I know yournumbers and all that, but are they anything like prepared?"

  "I don't know," said Holm miserably. "They might get on all right, buteverybody is pretty slack just now. Andy has a touch of fever, and someof the men may get leave for shooting. I must get back at once."

  "You can't. Why, man, you couldn't get half way. And what's more, Ican't go. This place wants all the looking after it can get. A row inthe hills means a very good possibility of a row in Bardur, and that istoo dangerous a game. And besides myself there is scarcely a man in theplace who counts. Logan has gone to Gilgit, and there's nobody left butboys."

  "If you don't mind I should like to go," said Lewis shamefacedly.

  "You," they cried. "Do you know the road?"

  "I've been there before, and I remember it more or less. Besides, it isreally my show this time. I got the warning, and I want the credit."And he smiled.

  "The road's bound to be risky," said Thwaite thoughtfully. "I don'tfeel inclined to let you run your neck into danger like this."

  Lewis was busy turning over the problem in his mind. The presence ofthe man Holm seemed the one link of proof he needed. He had his wordthat there were signs of trouble in the place, and that the Bada-Mawidiwere ill at ease. Whatever game Marker was playing, on this matter heseemed to have spoken in good faith. Here was a clear piece of work forhim. And even if it was fruitless it would bring him nearer to thefrontier; his expedition to the north would be begun.

  "Let me go," he said. "I came out here to explore the hills and I takeall risks on my own head. I can give them Marker's message as well asanybody else."

  Thwaite looked at Holm. "I don't see why he shouldn't. You're a wreck,and I can't leave my own place."

  "Tell Andy you saw me," cried Holm. "He'll be anxious. And tell him tomind the north gate. If the fools knew how to use dynamite they mighthave it down at once. If they attack it can't last long, but then theycan't last long either, for they are hard up for arms, and unless theyhave changed since last week they have no ammunition to speak of."

  "Marker said it looked as if they were being put up to the job from overthe frontier."

  "Gad, then it's my turn to look out," said Thwaite. "If it's thegentlemen from over the frontier they won't stop at Forza. Lord, I hatethis border business, it's so hideously in the dark. But I think that'sall rot. Any tribal row here is sure to be set down to Russianinfluence. We don't understand the joint possession of an artificialfrontier," he added, with an air of quoting from some book.

  "Did you get that from Marker?" Holm asked crossly. "He once said thesame thing to me." His temper had suffered badly among the hills.

  "We'd better get you to bed, my dear fellow," said Thwaite, looking downat him. "You look remarkably cheap. Would you mind going in and tryingto find Mrs. Logan, Haystoun? I'll carry this chap in. Stop a minute,though. Perhaps he's got something to say to you."

  "Mind the north gate ... tell Andy I'm all right and make him lookafter himself ... he's overworking ... if you want to send amessage to the other people you'd better send by Nazri ... if theBadas mean business they'll shut up the road you go by. That's all.Good luck and thanks very much."

  Lewis found Mrs. Logan making a final inspection of the supper-room.She ran to the garden, to find the invalid Holm in Thwaite's arms at thesteps of the verandah. The sick warrior pulled off an imaginary cap andsmiled feebly.

  "Oh, Mr. Holm, I'm so sorry. Of course we can have you. I'll put you inthe other end of the house where you won't be so much troubled with thenoise. You must have had a dreadful journey." And so forth, with theeasy condolences of a kind woman.

  When Thwaite had laid down his burden, he turned to Lewis.

  "I wish we had another man, Haystoun. What about your friend Winterham?One's enough to do your work, but if the thing turns out to be serious,there ought to be some means of sending word. Andover will want you tostay, for they are short-handed enough."

  "I'll get Winterham to go and wait for me somewhere. If I don't turn upby a certain time, he can come and look for me."

  "That will do," said Thwaite, "though it's a stale job for him. Well,good-bye and good luck to you. I expect there won't be much trouble,but I wish you had told us in the morning."

  Lewis turned to go and find George. "What a chance I had almostmissed," was the word in his heart. The errand might be futile, themessage a blind, but it was at least movement, action, a possibility.