“The civilian was Colonel Nicholson. Hafiz Khan had been engaged in two or three raids before he had enlisted, and, bold as they are, there’s not a Pathan along the border dare look Nicholson between the eyes.”
“And what became of the lieutenant?” asked Ted.
“He applied for an important appointment at Peshawur a month later. He found out his mistake then, and felt sorry he’d ever been born.”
A clatter of hoofs interrupted their talk, and Ted ran to the outer door to admit his brother. Captain Russell was quiet and grave, for his happy days had come to an end, and to-morrow the dull routine of regimental work would begin again. He was evidently little inclined for conversation, and before long the four officers passed off into the adjoining bedrooms.
Captain Russell was well liked by about one-half of his acquaintances, and disliked by a good proportion of the remainder. His friends knew him for a brave, good-hearted, conscientious man, and his detractors termed him a prig. The fault was in his manner, at times heavy, awkward, and solemn, largely the result of shyness, for with intimate friends he could be lively and full of fun.
Serious thoughts occupied his mind as he undressed. Ought not he, the elder brother and man of experience, to give the youngster a few words of advice, before leaving him, on some subjects more serious than steeple-chasing? But how to begin? Jim Russell knew his own failings, and dreaded lest Ted should sneer at him as a prig; and he envied his chum, Spencer, who, he felt sure, could have given the lad sound advice and warning without the least suspicion of preaching. However, Jim was conscientious, and he resolved to take the risk.
The ensign’s evident esprit de corps and delight in his regiment furnished an admirable opening, and sitting on the low bed half-undressed, the elder brother spoke like a father to the younger concerning his duty to the regiment.
Then, as the captain was an enthusiastic admirer of the great brothers Henry and John Lawrence, and of their band of devoted followers, the first topic naturally led to a eulogy of the Punjab leaders; and Jim explained to the ensign how Henry Lawrence had begun, and how John Lawrence was now carrying on the work of showing to the wild Sikhs, Jats, and Mohammedans of the Punjab the highest ideal of British justice and uprightness.
Ted listened attentively, but said nothing. He too was already filled with admiration for those Christian soldiers and statesmen who were soon to save India.
“Not that I want you to be an objectionable young prig,” the captain went on; “there’s a big difference between that and the genuine article. You know what I mean?”