“Why should he? And he couldn’t, in any case. Ferrers is in charge of our outpost at Shah Nawaz, miles away.”
“And Major Keeling knows nothing—about Penelope?”
“How could he? I haven’t told him, and I shouldn’t imagine Ferrers has. Besides, I thought there was nothing to tell? But there are complications ahead. If the General goes home we are bound to have Ferrers’ uncle, old Crayne, sent to Bab-us-Sahel, and then I don’t think his aspiring nephew will stay long up here.”
“Well, Penelope shan’t go down with him. Did you call me, Pen?” and Lady Haigh rose from the box on which she and her husband had seated themselves to enjoy a brief tête-à-tête, and hurried after Penelope, who was exploring the new domain.
However troubled Major Keeling’s mind may have been when he started on his ride, he seemed to have left all care behind him when he appeared in Lady Haigh’s dining-room—as he insisted on calling it, although he himself was responsible for both the dinner and the furniture. He laid himself out to be amiable with such success that Sir Dugald averred afterwards he had sat trembling through the whole meal, feeling certain that the Chief could not keep it up, and dreading some fearful explosion. The ladies and Colin Ross, who were less accustomed to meet the guest officially, saw nothing remarkable in his courteous cheerfulness; and though Penelope’s heart warmed towards the man who could so completely lay aside his own worries for the sake of his friends, Lady Haigh, whose mind had recurred to her wrongs, could barely bring herself to be civil to him. He turned upon her at last.
“Lady Haigh, I am in disgrace; I know it. I have felt a chill of disapproval radiating from you the whole time I have been sitting beside you. What have I done? Ah, I know! Haigh has let the cat out of the bag. How dare you betray official secrets, sir? Well, Lady Haigh, am I never to be forgiven?”
“I could forgive your sending for my husband,” said Lady Haigh, with dignity, “especially as there was no danger; but to doubt my word, after I had promised——”
“I had no doubt whatever of your intention of keeping your word. What I was not quite sure about was your power. I expect heroism from you two ladies as a matter of course. Every British commander has a right to expect it from Englishwomen, hasn’t he? But I want something more,—I want common-sense. I want you, when your husband, Lady Haigh, and your brother, Miss Ross, and the rest of us, are all away on an expedition, and perhaps there’s not a man in the station but Tarleton, to go on just as usual—to sew and read, and go out for your rides as if you hadn’t the faintest anxiety to trouble you. While we are away doing the work, you’ll have to represent us here, and impress the natives.”
“Why didn’t you tell us that you only wanted people without any natural feelings?” demanded Lady Haigh.
“I did, didn’t I? You seemed to think so when I gave you leave to come up. At any rate, if you bring natural feelings up here, you must be able to control them. Whatever the trouble is, you must keep up before the natives, or our friends will be discouraged, and our enemies emboldened. Did you think I could allow the greatest chance that has ever come to this district to be jeopardised for the sake of natural feelings?” He emphasised the words with an almost savage sneer. “Think what our position is here. Alibad is an outpost of British India, not merely of Khemistan; we are the advanced-guard of civilisation—not a European beyond until you come to the Scythian frontier. We hold one of the keys of India; any enemy attacking from this side must pass over our bodies. And how do we expect to maintain the position? Not by virtue of stone walls. When I came up here first I found a wretched garrison shut in—locked in—in this very fort, with the tribes plundering up to the gates. I turned them out, and gave orders that the gates were never to be fastened again. Out on the open plain we are and we shall be, if we have to sleep in our boots to the end of our lives. Peace and security for the ryot, endless harrying for the raider until he gives up his evil ways. There shall not be a spot on this border where the ruffians shall be able to pause for a sip of water without looking to see if the Khemistan Horse are behind them, and before long their own people will give them up when they go back to their tribes. Teach the whole country that we have come to stay, that it pays better to be on our side than against us—there is the beginning.”