Rudyard Kipling For Children - 7 Books in One Edition (Illustrated Edition). Rudyard Kipling

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СКАЧАТЬ stooped and kissed Dick between the eyes. "That is for good-morning," she said, going away. "When thou art dressed we will speak to George and make everything ready. But first we must open the little trunk. Give me the keys."

      "The amount of kissing lately has been simply scandalous. I shall expect Torp to kiss me next. He is more likely to swear at me for getting in his way, though. Well, it won't last long.—Ohe, Madame, help me to my toilette of the guillotine! There will be no chance of dressing properly out yonder."

      He was rummaging among his new campaign-kit, and rowelling his hands with the spurs. There are two ways of wearing well-oiled ankle-jacks, spotless blue bands, khaki coat and breeches, and a perfectly pipeclayed helmet. The right way is the way of the untired man, master of himself, setting out upon an expedition, well pleased.

      "Everything must be very correct," Dick explained. "It will become dirty afterwards, but now it is good to feel well dressed. Is everything as it should be?"

      He patted the revolver neatly hidden under the fulness of the blouse on the right hip and fingered his collar.

      "I can do no more," Madame said, between laughing and crying. "Look at thyself—but I forgot."

      "I am very content." He stroked the creaseless spirals of his leggings.

      "Now let us go and see the captain and George and the lighthouse boat. Be quick, Madame."

      "But thou canst not be seen by the harbour walking with me in the daylight. Figure to yourself if some English ladies——"

      "There are no English ladies; and if there are, I have forgotten them. Take me there."

      In spite of this burning impatience it was nearly evening ere the lighthouse boat began to move. Madame had said a great deal both to George and the captain touching the arrangements that were to be made for Dick's benefit. Very few men who had the honour of her acquaintance cared to disregard Madame's advice. That sort of contempt might end in being knifed by a stranger in a gambling hell upon surprisingly short provocation.

      For six days—two of them were wasted in the crowded Canal—the little steamer worked her way to Suakin, where she was to pick up the superintendent of the lighthouse; and Dick made it his business to propitiate George, who was distracted with fears for the safety of his light-of-love and half inclined to make Dick responsible for his own discomfort. When they arrived George took him under his wing, and together they entered the red-hot seaport, encumbered with the material and wastage of the Suakin-Berger line, from locomotives in disconsolate fragments to mounds of chairs and pot-sleepers.

      "If you keep with me," said George, "nobody will ask for passports or what you do. They are all very busy."

      "Yes; but I should like to hear some of the Englishmen talk. They might remember me. I was known here a long time ago—when I was some one indeed."

      "A long time ago is a very long time ago here. The graveyards are full. Now listen. This new railway runs out so far as Tanai-el-Hassan—that is seven miles. Then there is a camp. They say that beyond Tanai-el-Hassan the English troops go forward, and everything that they require will be brought to them by this line."

      "Ah! Base camp. I see. That's a better business than fighting Fuzzies in the open."

      "For this reason even the mules go up in the iron-train."

      "Iron what?"

      "It is all covered with iron, because it is still being shot at."

      "An armoured train. Better and better! Go on, faithful George."

      "And I go up with my mules tonight. Only those who particularly require to go to the camp go out with the train. They begin to shoot not far from the city."

      "The dears—they always used to!" Dick snuffed the smell of parched dust, heated iron, and flaking paint with delight. Certainly the old life was welcoming him back most generously.

      "When I have got my mules together I go up tonight, but you must first send a telegram of Port Said, declaring that I have done you no harm."

      "Madame has you well in hand. Would you stick a knife into me if you had the chance?"

      "I have no chance," said the Greek. "She is there with that woman."

      "I see. It's a bad thing to be divided between love of woman and the chance of loot. I sympathise with you, George."

      They went to the telegraph-office unquestioned, for all the world was desperately busy and had scarcely time to turn its head, and Suakin was the last place under sky that would be chosen for holiday-ground. On their return the voice of an English subaltern asked Dick what he was doing. The blue goggles were over his eyes and he walked with his hand on George's elbow as he replied—"Egyptian Government—mules. My orders are to give them over to the A. C. G. at Tanai-el-Hassan. Any occasion to show my papers?"

      "Oh, certainly not. I beg your pardon. I'd no right to ask, but not seeing your face before I——"

      "I go out in the train tonight, I suppose," said Dick, boldly. "There will be no difficulty in loading up the mules, will there?"

      "You can see the horse-platforms from here. You must have them loaded up early." The young man went away wondering what sort of broken-down waif this might be who talked like a gentleman and consorted with Greek muleteers. Dick felt unhappy. To outface an English officer is no small thing, but the bluff loses relish when one plays it from the utter dark, and stumbles up and down rough ways, thinking and eternally thinking of what might have been if things had fallen out otherwise, and all had been as it was not.

      George shared his meal with Dick and went off to the mule-lines. His charge sat alone in a shed with his face in his hands. Before his tight-shut eyes danced the face of Maisie, laughing, with parted lips. There was a great bustle and clamour about him. He grew afraid and almost called for George.

      "I say, have you got your mules ready?" It was the voice of the subaltern over his shoulder.

      "My man's looking after them. The—the fact is I've a touch of ophthalmia and can't see very well.

      "By Jove! that's bad. You ought to lie up in hospital for a while. I've had a turn of it myself. It's as bad as being blind."

      "So I find it. When does this armoured train go?"

      "At six o'clock. It takes an hour to cover the seven miles."

      "Are the Fuzzies on the rampage—eh?"

      "About three nights a week. Fact is I'm in acting command of the night-train. It generally runs back empty to Tanai for the night."

      "Big camp at Tanai, I suppose?"

      "Pretty big. It has to feed our desert-column somehow."

      "Is that far off?"

      "Between thirty and forty miles—in an infernal thirsty country."

      "Is the country quiet between Tanai and our men?"

      "More or less. I shouldn't care to cross it alone, or with a subaltern's command for the matter of that, but the scouts get through it in some extraordinary fashion."

      "They always did."

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