A Despatch.
Archie Maine had been round visiting posts in the faint hope of picking up some fresh news from the men, after the hurried mess dinner, glad to get out into the comparatively cool, soft night air; for the Major had sat in his place, hardly speaking a word to any one present, and for the most part with lowered brows, deep in thought.
The night was as beautiful as ever; the brilliant stars that spangled the sky looked twice as large as those at home, and the reflections, blurred by the motion of the river, seemed larger still. The fire-flies sparkled in every bush, and the distant cries of the jungle floated softly on the night air. But everything seemed to bring up thoughts of trouble and misfortune. The native messengers sent in from the search-parties brought no good tidings, and to the lad, still suffering to some extent from his injury, everything seemed to suggest despair.
“I can’t help it,” he said to himself. “I’m sure I’m strong enough. I’ll go round by the Doctor’s and beg and pray him to tell the Major that I might very well go to the front, if it’s only to join old Ripsy. I might be of some help to him. Yes, Pete ought to go with me. We know more about the part there by the elephant-stables, and with him and his men we could follow up some of the paths where poor Pete dared not go.”
On the impulse of the moment he turned back and made for the mess-room, to try there first, though half in doubt as to whether he might find that his chief had gone back to his own quarters, where he was now prone to shut himself in.
The lad had been sauntering very slowly and doubtfully before. Now he quickened his pace as he thought over his adventures when a prisoner in the elephant-stable; and as he recalled watching the going to and fro of the elephants, he felt more than ever that he ought to be there helping the surly old Sergeant.
“Not gone,” he said, as he came into sight of the open window of the mess-room, where the shaded lamp was casting down its light upon the stern-looking, grey head of the old officer, who had a paper lying before him, which he was scanning, while just at the other side of the table the lad could see the swarthy countenance of a native, whom he recognised at once as one of the followers of the regiment.
Archie’s heart began to beat fast, for he grasped the fact at once. This was evidently the bearer of a despatch from one of the detachments, for a private was standing in the shade resting his piece on the floor, after bringing in the man handed over to him by a sentry.
As Archie passed into the veranda the Major heard his step and looked up.
“Who’s that?” he said.