“Whin I was Corp’ril I wud not ha’ changed wid the Colonel—no, nor yet the Commandher-in-Chief. I wud be a Sargint. There was nothin’ I wud not be! Mother av Hivin, look at me! Fwhat am I now?
“We was quartered in a big cantonmint—’tis no manner av use namin’ names, for ut might give the barricks disrepitation—an’ I was the Imperor av the Earth to my own mind, an’ wan or tu women thought the same. Small blame to thim. Afther we had lain there a year, Bragin, the Color Sargint av E Comp’ny, wint an’ took a wife that was lady’s maid to some big lady in the Station. She’s dead now is Annie Bragin—died in child-bed at Kirpa Tal, or ut may ha’ been Almorah—seven—nine years gone, an’ Bragin he married agin. But she was a pretty woman whin Bragin inthrojuced her to cantonmint society. She had eyes like the brown av a buttherfly’s wing whin the sun catches ut, an’ a waist no thicker than my arm, an’ a little sof button av a mouth I would ha’ gone through all Asia bristlin’ wid bay’nits to get the kiss av. An’ her hair was as long as the tail av the Colonel’s charger—forgive me mentionin’ that blunderin’ baste in the same mouthful with Annie Bragin—but ’twas all shpun gold, an’ time was when ut was more than di’monds to me. There was niver pretty woman yet, an’ I’ve had thruck wid a few, cud open the door to Annie Bragin.
“’Twas in the Cath’lic Chapel I saw her first, me oi roiling round as usual to see fwhat was to be seen, ‘You’re too good for Bragin, my love,’ thinks I to mesilf, ‘but that’s a mistake I can put straight, or my name is not Terence Mulvaney.’
“Now take my wurrd for ut, you Orth’ris there an’ Learoyd, an’ kape out av the Married Quarters—as I did not. No good iver comes av ut, an’ there’s always the chance av your bein’ found wid your face in the dirt, a long picket in the back av your head, an’ your hands playing the fifes on the tread av another man’s doorstep.
“’Twas so we found O’Hara, he that Rafferty killed six years gone, when he wint to his death wid his hair oiled, whistlin’ Larry O’Rourke betune his teeth. Kape out av the Married Quarters, I say, as I did not, ’Tis onwholesim, ’tis dangerous, an’ ’tis ivrything else that’s bad, but—O my sowl, ’tis swate while ut lasts!
“I was always hangin’ about there whin I was off duty an’ Bragin wasn’t, but niver a sweet word beyon’ ordinar’ did I get from Annie Bragin. ‘’Tis the pervarsity av the sect,’ sez I to mesilf, an’ gave my cap another cock on my head an’ straightened my back—’twas the back av a Dhrum Major in those days—an’ wint off as tho’ I did not care, wid all the women in the Married Quarters laughin’. I was pershuaded—most bhoys are, I’m thinkin’—that no women born av woman cud stand against me av I hild up my little finger. I had reason fer thinkin’ that way—till I met Annie Bragin.
“Time an’ agin whin I was blandandherin’ in the dusk a man wud go past me as quiet as a cat. ‘That’s quare,’ thinks I, ‘for I am, or I should be, the only man in these parts. Now what divilment can Annie be up to?’ Thin I called myself a blayguard for thinkin’ such things; but I thought thim all the same. An’ that, mark you, is the way av a man.
“Wan evenin’ I said:—‘Mrs. Bragin, manin’ no disrespect to you, who is that Corp’ril man’—I had seen the stripes though I cud niver get sight av his face—‘who is that Corp’ril man that comes in always whin I’m goin’ away?’
“‘Mother av God!’ sez she, turnin’ as white as my belt; ‘have you seen him too?’
“‘Seen him!’ sez I; ’av coorse I have. Did ye want me not to see him, for’—we were standin’ talkin’ in the dhark, outside the veranda av Bragin’s quarters—‘you’d betther tell me to shut me eyes. Onless I’m mistaken, he’s come now.’