audience with the Son of Heaven, and begged our pardon! He does not come to Pekin!'
Parkes, to my surprise, just smiled at him as though he were a child and said they must really talk about something important. Elgin was going to Pekin, and the Emperor would receive him. Now, then …
At this Prince I went wild, spitting curses, calling Parkes a foreign cur and reptile and I don't know what, and Parkes just smiled away and said Elgin would be there, and that was that. And in this way the time passed until (it's a fact) six o'clock, when Prince I had cursed himself hoarse. Then Parkes got up, repeated for the four hundredth time that Elgin was going to Pekin—and suddenly Prince I said, very well, with a thousand cavalry, as agreed. Then in double time he and Parkes settled the wording of a proclamation informing the public that peace and harmony were the order of the day, and we retired to the quarters that had been prepared for us, and had dinner.
'Who said the Chinese were negotiators!' scoffs Parkes. 'The man's a fool and a fraud.'
'He caved in very suddenly,' says Loch. 'D'you trust him?'
'No, but I don't need to. Their goose is cooked, Loch, and they know it, and because they can't abide it, they squeal like children in a tantrum. And if he goes back on his word tomorrow, it doesn't matter—because the Big Barbarian is going to Pekin, anyway.'
It was arranged that in the morning, while De Normann and Bowlby (who wanted some copy for his rag) would stay in Tang-chao with Anderson and the sowars, the rest of us would return to the army, Parkes and Loch to report to Elgin, Walker and Ito guide them to the camp site. The others turned in early, except for Parkes, who had invited one of the lesser mandarins over for a chat, so I retired to the verandah to rehearse my anxieties for the umpteenth time, able to sweat and curse in private at last.
Nolan knew me. What would he say—what could he say? Suppose he told the shameful truth, would anyone believe him? Never. But why should he say anything—dammit, he'd grovelled, too … I went all through my horrid fears again and again, pacing in the dark little garden away from the house, chewing my cheroot fiercely. What would he say -
'A foine evenin', colonel,' was what, in fact, he said, and I spun round with an oath. There he was, by the low wall at the garden foot—standing respectfully to attention, rot him, the trooper out for an evening stroll, greeting his superior with all decorum. I choked back a raging question, and forced myself to say nonchalantly:
'Why, I didn't see you there, my man. Yes, a fine evening.' I hoped to God it was too shadowy for him to see me trembling. I lit another cheroot, and he moved forward a step. 'Beg pardon, sorr … don't ye remember me?'
I had myself in hand now. 'What? You're one of the dragoons, aren't you?'
'Yes, sorr. I mean afore that, sorr.' He had one of those soft, whiny, nut-at-ahl Irish brogues which I find especially detestable. 'Whin I wuz in the 44th—afore dey posted me to the Heavies. Shure, an' it's just a month since—I think ye mind foine.'
'Sorry, my boy,' says I pleasantly, my heart hammering. 'I don't know much of the 44th, and I certainly don't know you.' I gave him a nod. 'Good-night.'
I was turning away when his voice stopped me, suddenly soft and hard together. 'Oh, but ye do, sorr. An' I know you. An' we both know where it wuz. At Tang-ku, when Moyes got kilt.'
What should an innocent man say to that? I'll tell you: he turns sharp, frowning, bewildered. 'When who was killed? What the devil are you talking about? Are you drunk, man?'
'No, sorr, I'm not drunk! Nor I wuzn't drunk then! You wuz in the yard at Tang-ku whin they made us bow down to yon Chink bastard —'
'Silence! You're drunker than David's sow! You're raving! Now, look here, my lad—you cut along to your billet and I'll say no more —'
'Oh, but ye will! Ye will dat!' He was shaking with excitement. 'But first ye'll listen! For I know, ye see, an' I can say plenty more —'
'How dare you!' I forced myself to bark. 'You insolent rascal! I don't know what you're talking about, or what your game is, but another word from you and I'll get you a bloody back for your damned insolence, d'ye hear?' I towered, outraged, glaring like a colonel. 'I'm a patient man, Nolan, but …'
It was out before I knew it, and he saw the blunder as soon as I did. The eyes bulged with triumph in his crimson face.
'Whut's dat? Nolan, d'ye say? An' if ye don't know me, how the hell d'ye know me name, den?'
In fact, I'd heard his corporal use it that day, but in my panic I remembered only Moyes at the grog-cart. I was speechless, and he rattled on excitedly:
'It wuz you! By the Virgin, it wuz you in that yard, crawlin' wid the rest on us, me an' the coolies—iveryone but Moyes! I didn't know yez from Rafferty's pig—till I seed ye in the lines, two days since, an' rec'nised ye! I did that! An' I asked the boys: `Who's dat?' They sez: `Shure, an' dat's Flash Harry, the famous Afghan hero, him that wan the Cross at Lucknow, an' kilt all the Ruskis, an' that. Shure, 'tis the bravest man in th'Army, so it is.' Dal's whut they said.' He paused, getting his breath back in his excitement, and for the life of me I could only mouth at him. He stepped closer, breathing whisky at me. 'An' I sez nuthin', but I thinks, is that a fact, now? 'Cos I seen him when he wuzn't bein' so bloody heroical, lickin' a Chinese nigger's boots an' whinin' fer his life!'
If I'd been heeled, I'd have shot him then and there, and damn the consequences. For there was no doubt he had me, or where he was going. He nodded, bright-eyed, and licked his coarse lips.
'Aye, so I got to studyin'. An' whut d'ye think? Sez I to meself, `Shure, whut a hell of a pity it'd be, if this wuz to get about, like.' In the Army, ye know? I mean—even if iveryone said, och, it's just Paddy Nolan lyin' again —d'ye not think there's some might believe the shave*(* Rumour.), eh? There'd be questions, mebbe; there might even be wan hell of a scandal.' He shook his head, leering. 'Talk, colonel. Ugly talk. Ye know what I mean? Bad for the credit o' th'Army. Aye, a bloody back's a sore thing, so it is—but it heals faster'n a blown reppitation.' He paused a moment. 'I'd think, meself, it'd be worth keepin' quiet. Wouldn't you, colonel?'
I could bluster still—or not. Better not; it would be a waste of time. This was a cunning swine; if he spread his story as well as he'd summed it up, I was done for, disgraced, ruined. I knew my Army, you see, and the jealousies and hatreds under the hearty grins. Oh, I didn't lack for enemies who'd delight in sniffing it all out, prying till they found Carnac, compared dates, put two and two together—where had I been on August 13, eh? Even if I could bluff it away, the mud would stick. And this sly peasant could see clear through; he knew he didn't have to prove a thing, that being guilty I'd be ready to fork out to prevent any breath of rumour -
'Sir Harry! Are you there?' It was Parkes's voice, calling sharply from the verandah twenty yards away; his figure was silhouetted against the glow from the house. 'Sir Harry?'
Nolan took a swift step back into the shadows. ' 'Tis another word we'll be havin' tomorrow, colonel—eh?' he whispered. 'Until den.' I heard his soft chuckle as I turned to the house, still stricken dumb, with Parkes crying: 'Ah, there you are! Care for a nightcap?'
How much sleep I got you may imagine. I couldn't defy the brute—the question was whether it was safer to pay squeeze and risk his blabbing another day, or kill him and try to make it look accidental. That was how desperate I was, and it was still unresolved when we saddled up at dawn to ride back to the army. As the party fell in under the trees, a sudden reckless devil took hold of me, and I told the dragoon corporal I'd inspect the escort; Parkes cocked an amused eyebrow at this military zeal, while the corporal bawled his troopers into mounted line. I rode slowly along, surveying each man carefully while they sweated in the sun; I checked one for a loose girth, asked the youngest how long he'd been in China, and came to Nolan on the end, staring red-faced to his front. A fly settled on his cheek, and his lip twitched.
'`Let it be, my boy,' says I, jocular-like. 'If a fly can sit still, so can you. Name and service?'
'Nolan, sorr. Twelve years.' His brow was running wet, but he sat like a statue, wondering what the hell I was about.
'Trahnsferred las' month, sir, when 44th went dahn to Shang'ai,' says the corporal. 'Cavalry trained, tho'; in the Skins, I b'lieve.'
'Why'd you transfer, Nolan?' I asked idly, and he couldn't keep his voice steady.
'If ye please, sorr … I … I tuk a fancy to see Pee-kin, sorr.'
'Looking for excitement, eh?' I smiled. 'Capital! Very good, corporal—form up.'
If you ask what I was up to … why, I was taking a closer look by daylight—and unsettling the bastard; it never hurts. But it was a wasted effort, for in the next hour everything changed, and even disgrace and reputation ceased to matter … almost.
