The Dash for Khartoum | Page 3

victim of such an operation.
A month previous to the opening of the story she had been confined of
a boy, and two days later Mrs. Clinton, the wife of the captain of her
husband's company, also became a mother. Before the week was over
Mrs. Clinton was taken dangerously ill, and as it was impossible for her
to nurse her child, the surgeon of the regiment recommended that it
should be given into the charge of the sergeant's wife, as she, being a
strong and healthy young woman, could very well nurse it as well as
her own. It was a month after this that Sergeant Humphreys, returning
to his quarters, found his wife sitting by the side of the bed on which
the two infants were asleep.
"They are as alike as two peas," he said as he looked at them. "I am
sure I wonder, Jane, that you know which is which!"
Mrs. Humphreys' answer did not seem to the point. "Captain Clinton is
a rich man, is he not, John?"
"Yes; they say he came into a grand estate two years ago when his
father died, and that like enough he will leave the regiment when it
goes home next year."
"Then one of those babies will be a rich man, and the other--" and she
stopped.
"The other will, I hope, be a non-commissioned officer in the 30th Foot
one of these days," the sergeant said. Jane looked up at her husband.
There was no touch of envy or discontent in his voice. She was about to
speak but checked herself.
"Which is yours, John?" she asked a moment later, returning to his first

remark.
"I am sure I could not tell," he said with a laugh. "Babies are mostly
pretty much alike, and as these two are just the same age, and just the
same size, and have both got gray eyes and light coloured hair--if you
can call it hair,--and no noses to speak of, I don't see a pin's point of
difference."
A month later a small party were assembled in Captain Clinton's
bungalow. Mrs. Humphreys was standing with a baby in each arm. Mrs.
Clinton was lying upon a sofa crying bitterly. Captain Clinton was
walking up and down the room, hot and angry. The surgeon of the
regiment was standing grave and sympathetic by Mrs. Clinton.
Sergeant Humphreys was in the attitude of attention by the door, with
an anxious troubled expression on his face.
"What in the world is to be done, doctor?" Captain Clinton asked. "I
never heard of such a thing, it is a most serious business."
"I can quite see that," the doctor replied. "When Mrs. Humphreys came
to me and asked me to break the news to you, I told her at once that it
was a terrible business. I own that I do not see that she is altogether to
blame, but it is a most unfortunate occurrence. As I have just told you,
she had, when she put the children to bed, put your child in one of her
baby's night-gowns, as it happened there were none of your child's
clean. In the morning she took them out and laid them on a rug on the
ground before beginning to wash and dress them. She went out to the
canteen to get something for her husband's breakfast, and when she
returned she could not remember the order in which she had taken them
out of bed and laid them down, and could not distinguish her own child
from yours."
"You must remember, Mrs. Humphreys," Captain Clinton broke in;
"think it over, woman. You must remember how you laid them down."
"Indeed, I do not, sir; I have been thinking all the morning. I had nursed
them two or three times during the night, and of course had changed
their position then. I never thought about their having the same

night-gowns on. If I had, of course I should have been more careful, for
I have said to my husband over and over again that it was only by their
clothes that I should know them apart, for if they had been twins they
could not be more alike.
"This is downright maddening!" Captain Clinton exclaimed, pacing up
and down the room. "And is there no mark nor anything by which they
can be recognized? Why, bless me, woman, surely you as a mother
ought to know your own child!"
Mrs. Humphreys shook her head. "I have nursed them both, sir, and
which is mine and which is yours I could not say to save my life."
"Well, put the children down on that sofa," Captain Clinton said, "and
take yourself off for the present; you have done mischief enough for a
lifetime. I will let