Chapter LXII: From One to Many

The great heart of the nation at home had been wrung with pity and indignation at the altogether unnecessary sufferings of the men who had gone out to fight her battles in the East, and who, through miscalculation, muddle, and incapacity, had died like flies, of sickness and want.

The roar of anger with which the news was greeted shook the mighty in their seats and hurled Ministers and Cabinets into the dust. Still more to the purpose, the sympathy aroused set itself promptly to the cure of official abuses by the administration of private charity; which word is used in its high apostolic sense, for private munificence and public subscription provided the miserable, gallant remnant of our army only with those things which were theirs by right, and of which they had been defrauded by sheerest stupidity and the inexorcisabie demon of Red-tape.

The _Times_ fund was a mighty help; Florence Nightingale a still mightier, in that noblest attribute of personal service and sacrifice which touches all hearts to higher things.

But there were also many private benefactors, who set to work at once on their own account to do what they could, and among them was Sir George Herapath.

When the dreadful disclosures of the camps and hospitals came home, he was still bending, almost broken, under the weight of his own loss. His son's death had beaten him to the ground and shortened his span by years.

But the thought of the miseries of those other brave fellows, out on the bleak hill-sides above Sebastopol, stirred him out of the depths of his sorrow. He sent for Charles Eager.

"Eager," he said, "I can't get any sleep for thinking of it all."

"He died as a gallant man should die, Sir George."

"It's the others I'm thinking of--the poor fellows who are mouldering away out there for want of everything that has been forgotten or sent astray."

And a spark came into Eager's eye, for here was sign of grace and hope after his own mind--a sorely stricken heart rising superior to its own loss in helpful thought for others.

"Yes, they're having dreadful times. What were you thinking of?"

"Helping, if you'll take a hand."

"I'm your man, sir, and God be thanked for your good thought! I'll thank you in my own way."

"Help me to make a list of the most necessary things, and I'll charter a ship to take them straight out. Will you go with her and see to it all?"

"Will I?" blazed Eager. "Will I not? It's almost too good to be true. I want to find out what's become of those boys too."

"I wouldn't like it all to go astray like the rest, you see."

"I'll see to that. It may be the saving of hundreds. God bless you, sir! George's death will be a blessing to many through you. It is just what he would have done himself."

Sir George shook his head sadly. The wound was too raw yet. "Let's get to work!" he said; for in work, and especially in such work, there was something of healing.

So they formed themselves into a committee of four, and Sir George insisted on Eager and Gracie coming to stay with them at Knoyle so that the work might go on without interruption.

He went down to Liverpool, and with difficulty secured a steamship--the _Bakclutha_, 1,000 tons burden, James Leale, master, at a very high price, for Government charters had made a tight market.

He went over all their lists carefully, knew just where to lay his hand on everything, and the work went forward rapidly.

Eager had secured a locum and was keen to be off, for every day's delay meant so many wasted lives. Gracie was to stay on at Knoyle with Margaret. And so the very last night came, and found them sitting round the fire in Sir George's study after dinner.

"You must all give an eye to my people while I'm away," said Eager. "Breton is a good sort, I think, but it'll take some time for him to get to know them; and the vicar----"

"The vicar is resigning as soon as you come back," said Sir George quietly. "The South of France is the only place where he can live, Yool says. I want you to take it when you get home."

"That is very good of you, sir. I want you to give me something else too"--and he slipped his hand inside Margaret's arm.

"I know," said Sir George. "Meg has told me, and I could not wish her better."

Gracie flung her arms round Margaret and kissed her heartily.

"Oh, I am so glad!" she cried. "That is what I have been wanting all the time."

"So have I," laughed Eager. And then more soberly, as he lifted Margaret's hand to his lips--"And truly I am grateful. My cup is full--almost to the brim----"

"I wish I could go with you," said Margaret.

"So do I," said Gracie eagerly.

"Yes, I know, but----"

And they knew too that the "but" must keep them at home.

"You'll find out all about the boys, Charlie," ordered Gracie.

"I'll do my best, dear, you may be sure. It all depends on what there is to find out and what an outsider can do. The possibilities are so tremendous. All we can do is to hope for the best and keep our hearts up. I have letters from Lord Deseret to Lord Raglan and several others, and I have no doubt they will give me all the help they can."

And next day he sailed, very happy in his mission, happier still in what lay behind and before him; troubled only on account of the boys who had disappeared into the smoke-cloud, and of whom for many weeks they had been able to obtain no tidings whatever.

The master, the supercargo, and the crew of the _Balclutha_ were all of one mind in the matter, and so she made a record passage, was through the Straits fourteen days after she hauled out of the Mersey, and two days later lay off Balaclava Bay awaiting official permit to enter.

The Bay was crowded, but a corner was found at last, and Eager's wondering eyes travelled over the amazing activities and manifold nastinesses of that historic port, though these last were nothing now to what they had been.

He landed at once, introduced himself and his business to Admiral Boxer and Captain Powell, found favour in their sight, and made arrangements for the unloading and forwarding of his cargo.

Sir George had furnished him with ample funds and the best of advice. He organised his own transport, saw to it himself; with the hearty assistance of Leale and his two mates and some picked men of the crew, and drove things forward at such astonishing speed that the harbour-master broke out one time.

"Man! Was it a parson you said you were, Mr. Eager? It's head of the Transport you ought to have been. You get more out of those lazy scamps than any man we've had here yet."

It was the same wherever he went. His strenuous cheerfulness, his masterful energy, his unfailing good-humour--in a word, his Eagerness infused itself into all with whom he came in contact and carried him royally through all difficulties. He was an object-lesson in what might be done when Officialism and Red-tape had no fingers in the pie.

To tell all he did, and saw, and thought, during those days, would take a volume. He cheered and comforted, and lifted from misery and death many a stricken soul, both in the hospitals and in the camps.

He came across old Harrow and Oxford friends, who welcomed him with open arms and tendered him advice enough to sink a ship. And when he had finished his distributions, and so eased the ways of all the needy ones within the range of his powers, he turned with keen anxiety to that other quest which lay so near his heart.

He paid a visit to British Head-quarters, in the low white houses on the road leading from Balaclava to Sebastopol, delivered Lord Deseret's letter to an aide-de-camp, and intimated his intention of waiting there till he could see Lord Raglan in person.

When at last he was admitted, he found the Chief sitting at a huge table heaped with papers, and two secretaries writing for dear life at tables alongside.

Lord Raglan had already seen him about the camps and hospitals, and had heard of his good works, and received him with courteous kindness. Eager was struck with his thin, worn face--the face of a brave man wrestling with unwonted problems and innumerable difficulties.

"I don't know what we can do to help you in your quest, Mr. Eager," said his lordship, with Lord Deseret's letter in his hand, "but anything we can do we will. I am sure you will understand that it has been through no intentional neglect that these young friends of yours have slipped out of our sight. The demands upon one's time from the people at home"--with an expressive glance at the mountainous heaps of forms and papers before him--"have afforded one small chance of attending to individual cases. The last we know was that they were prisoners in Sebastopol."

"I thank your lordship, and I am very loth to trouble you," said Eager; "but there is so much dependent on these two boys that I must do all I possibly can to learn what has become of them. One could not ask by letter, I suppose?"

"Did I not write to Menchikoff, Calverly, soon after they were taken? I seem to remember----"

"You did, sir," replied one of the overwrought secretaries, without stopping his work for a moment. "And we got no answer."

"Would it be possible for me to get in under a flag of truce?" asked Eager.

"Quite possible," said his lordship, with a faint smile; "but decidedly risky, and you certainly would not come out again."

"There are occasional truces for picking up the wounded, are there not?"

"We have never asked for one, As a rule the Russians request it after one of their big sorties. If you wait a while--one never knows what night they will come out. What was your idea?"

"Simply to inquire among the Russian officers. There could be no objection to that, I presume?"

"Not the slightest. You might learn something. It is just a chance."

"Then I will wait for that chance, with your lordship's permission."

"By all means, Mr. Eager, and I wish you all success; also please convey to Sir George Herapath our thanks for all he has done for the men here, and accept the same yourself. They have suffered grievously. His son's death was a great loss to us. He was a fine young fellow."

And Eager bowed himself out.