Soldiers Three | Page 5

In a weak moment the Government Advocate asked one question too
many, "Beggin' your pardon, sir," Ortheris replied, "'e was callin' me a
dam' impudent little lawyer." The Court shook. The jury brought it in a
killing, but with every provocation and extenuation known to God or

man, and the Judge put his hand to his brow before giving sentence,
and the Adam's apple in the prisoner's throat went up and down
mercury-pumping before a cyclone.
In consideration of all considerations, from his Commanding Officer's
certificate of good conduct to the sure loss of pension, service, and
honour, the prisoner would get two years, to be served in India, and -
there need be no demonstration in Court. The Government Advocate
scowled and picked up his papers; the guard wheeled with a clash, and
the prisoner was relaxed to the Secular Arm, and driven to the jail in a
broken-down ticca-gharri.
His guard and some ten or twelve military witnesses, being less
important, were ordered to wait till what was officially called the cool
of the evening before marching back to cantonments. They gathered
together in one of the deep red brick verandahs of a disused lock-up
and congratulated Ortheris, who bore his honours modestly. I sent my
work into the office and joined them. Ortheris watched the Government
Advocate driving off lunch.
"That's a nasty little bald-'eaded little butcher, that is," he said. "'E don't
please me. 'E's got a colley dog wot do, though. I'm goin' up to Murree
in a week. That dawg'll bring fifteen rupees anywheres."
"You had better spend it in Masses," said Terence, unbuckling his belt,
for he had been on the prisoner's guard, standing helmeted and bolt up
right for three long hours.
"Not me," said Ortheris cheerfully. "Gawd'll put it down to B
Comp'ny's barrick damages one o' these days. You look strapped,
Terence."
"Faith, I'm not so young as I was. That guard-mountin' wears on the
sole av the fut, and this" - he sniffed contemptuously at the brick
verandah - "is as hard setting as standin'!"
"Wait a minute. I'll get the cushions out of my cart," I said.

"Strewth - sofies! We're going it gay," said Ortheris, as Terence
dropped himself section by section on the leather cushions, saying
prettily, "May you niver want a soft place wheriver you go, an' power
to share utt wid a frind. Another for yourself? That's good. It lets me sit
long ways. Stanley, pass me a poipe. Augrrh! An' that's another man
gone all to pieces bekaze av a woman. I must ha' been on forty or fifty
prisoners' gyards, first an' last, an' I hate ut new ivry time."
"Let's see. You were on Losson's, Lancey's, Dugard's, and Stebbins's,
that I can remember," I said.
"Ay, an' before that an' before that - scores av thim," he answered with
a worn smile. "Tis betther to die than to live for thim, though. Whin
Raines comes out - he'll be changin' his kit at the jail now - he'll think
that too. He shud ha' shot himself an' the woman by rights, an' made a
clean bill av all. Now he's left the woman - she tuk tay wid Dinah
Sunday gone last - an' he's left himself. Mackie's the lucky man." -
"He's probably getting it hot where he is," I ventured, for I knew
something of the dead Corporal's record.
"Be sure av that," said Terence, spitting over the edge of the verandah.
"But fwhat he'll get there is light marchin'-ordher to fwhat he'd ha' got
here if he'd lived."
"Surely not. He'd have gone on and forgotten like the others."
"Did ye know Mackie well, Sorr?" said Terence.
"He was on the Pattiala guard of honour last winter, and I went out
shooting with him in an ekka for the day, and I found him rather an
amusing man."
"Well, he'll ha' got shut av amusemints, excipt turnin' from wan side to
the other, these few years come. I knew Mackie, an' I've seen too many
to be mistuk in the muster av wan man. He might ha' gone on an' forgot,
as you say, Sorr, but was a man wid an educashin, an' he used ut for his
schames, an' the same educashin, an' talk an' all that made him able to
do fwhat he had a mind to wid a woman, that same wud turn back again

in the long run an' tear him alive. I can't say fwhat that I mane to say
bekaze I don't know how, but Mackie was the spit an' livin' image av a
man that I saw march the same march all but; an' 'twas worse for him
that he did not come by Mackie's ind. Wait while I remimber now.
'Twas fwhin I