Glyn Severn's Schooldays

by George Manville Fenn

“But, my dear Singh,” interposed the Colonel, who looked so annoyed and worried that Glyn kicked his schoolfellow softly under the table, and then coloured up.

“Don’t!” cried Singh sharply; and then in his old dreamy tone, “When he told me I used to seem to see it all, with his fierce enemies in their steel caps with the turbans round them, and the chain rings hanging about their necks and their swords flashing in the air as they made cuts at my father’s brave friends; and first one fell bleeding, and then another, till there were only about a dozen left, and my father the Maharajah was telling his men that the time had come when they must make one bold dash at their enemies, and die fighting as brave warriors should.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” cried the Colonel querulously. “But that curry is getting cold, my boy, and it won’t be worth eating if it isn’t hot.”

“Yes, I’ll go on directly,” continued Singh in the same imperturbable manner, and he leaned his elbows now upon the table, placed his chin upon his hands, and fixed his eyes upon the Colonel’s scar.

“I can see it all now so plainly,” he said; and with a quick gesture his host dropped his knife sharply in his plate and clapped his hand across his forehead, while Glyn gave his schoolfellow another thrust—a soft one this time—with his foot.

But Singh paid not the slightest heed to his companion’s hint. He only leaned a little more forward to look now in the Colonel’s eyes; and laughing softly he continued:

“That doesn’t make any difference. I can see it all just the same, and I seem to hear the roar like thunder father spoke about. He said it was the trampling of horses and the shouting of men, and it was you tearing over the plain from out of the valley, with all the men that you had drilled and made into his brave regiment. They swept over the ground with a rush, charging into the midst of the enemy and cutting right and left till they reached my father and his friends, when a terrible slaughter went on for a few minutes before the enemy turned and fled, pursued by your brave soldiers, who had left their leader wounded on the ground. Father said he had just strength enough to catch you in his arms as you fell from your horse with that terrible gash across your forehead. That was how he said you saved his life and always became his greatest friend.”

The Colonel’s lips had parted to check the narration again and again; but he seemed fascinated by the strange look in the boy’s eyes, and for the time being it was as if the whole scene of many years before was being enacted once again; while, to Glyn’s astonishment, the boy slowly rose from his seat, went round to the Colonel’s side of the table, to stand behind his chair till the waiter left the room, and then laying one hand on the old warrior’s shoulder, with the other he drew away that which covered the big scar, and bending over him he said softly:

“Father told me I was to try and grow up like you, who saved his life, and that I was always to think of you as my second father when he was gone.”

As Singh ended he bent down gently, and softly and reverently kissed the scar, while the Colonel closed his eyes and Glyn noticed that his lips were quivering beneath the great moustache, which seemed to move strangely as if it had been touched.