“I went up there,” he began in a husky voice, “and found that everything was known. The colonel ordered me to explain, but if I had been shot I couldn’t have uttered a word! How could I describe the frightful temptation that overpowered me when I fingered that roll of greasy notes and firmly believed that I’d be the winner of more than double the money before they could be missed? If I had been posted at home—just think of it, and uncle’s feelings—I should have been obliged to leave my London club, not to speak of the regiment; so, as you know, I took the bull by the horns, grabbed the coin and gave the notes to Bunsi Lal in exchange for a cheque on London; then, by infernal bad luck it appears that one of these notes was passed in the bazaar—a thousand rupee note which was peculiarly marked. Fryer the paymaster spotted it, and smelt a thousand rats, and no doubt he gave the C.O. a hint, hence these—er—tears. I wrote the whole story home to uncle. His answer is due in ten days. Whatever it may be, it comes too late now. Well, in the orderly-room I made no defence; just stood there tongue-tied. At the court martial, of course, I’ll have an advocate—but all the same I’m bound to get the boot! The colonel is beside himself—in a stone-cold rage—for it seems that no officer of the ‘Lighthearts’ has ever before been court-martialled.”
I nodded my head, and Ronnie continued:
“Carr or another will be on duty, and so you must turn out, as you are not under close arrest; and I hope you will get away from the regimental lines. It will be rather awkward for everyone if you are hereabouts, though I know that the Millses wish to take you in.”
“Yes,” I replied, “Mrs. Mills has been here.”
“You must go to someone outside the regiment, to the Greys, the Babingtons or the Campbells, to await the finding of the court martial, and then you and I will clear out. I say, I wonder how Falkland will take it?”
To this I made no reply—the thought of Brian was agonising.
“If I know him—and yet I don’t know him—I believe this business will make no difference. If I were a thief—well I am a thief—let’s say a murderer, I believe he would stick to you all the same—he is that sort.”
“Do you think so?” I murmured tremulously.
“Yes, sure, and now to business. I’ll get Arkwright to sell the stable, Cursetjee is to take the auction. I know you’ve made an inventory, and that thanks to you we have no small bills. If you happen to have any money, you might give it to Michael to run the house, as I shall always have a fellow here on duty. I understand that they will do their best to assemble a court martial soon, but a general court martial with a brigadier as president takes time—at the earliest it will be three weeks.”
“How dreadful!” I exclaimed. “What ages to wait in suspense. Do you suppose you will be what is called—cashiered?”