Chapter XIX

Mrs. Hulver was in what she termed "a fine taking," as Eola could see with half an eye. When they met as usual after breakfast to consult together on household matters the young mistress inquired what was the matter.

"Never mind me, miss," said the housekeeper with resolution. "I'll tell you all about it when we've done the cook and butler business. Ramachetty!"

He glided forward instantly, followed by his satellite, the cook; and the daily routine followed. The supplies bought that morning were displayed. How Eola hated the sight of the raw meat and live fowls exhibited for her inspection! The butler's accounts were rendered, and what was a more difficult matter, brought into accordance with her own. The patient servants received their dismissal; the butler happy in the thought that he had succeeded in over-charging his mistress exactly ten annas in spite of the eagle eye of the housekeeper; the cook equally content in having cheated the butler out of four annas; the cook boy pleased with himself in the purloining of an onion, a potato, half-a-dozen leaves of the cabbage and as much ghee as an expert finger could scoop out of the pot. Even the kitchen-woman was self-congratulatory. She had substituted a rotten egg for a sound one brought from market; adulterated the coffee during the pounding process with burnt rice and charred crusts of bread.

"Now tell me what has happened to upset you, Mrs. Hulver," said Eola, with a sympathetic kindliness that was one of her charms.

"It's my son, miss. Last evening the post brought me a letter to say that he was ill and was coming by the early mail this morning."

"And he hasn't arrived?" suggested Eola.

"On the contrary, Miss, he has come right enough; but you never saw such an object as he is in your life. Of course I'm his mother, and as William--that was my second--used to say: 'Mother's love is the same all over the world, whether her child is as beautiful as an angel or as ugly as a graven image.'"

"What has happened!"

"It was this way, miss. Some of the men in the regiment who ought to have known better--but as William--that was my third--used to say: 'Age won't mend a born fool'--took advantage of my boy's youth and innocence. They enticed him into the canteen and made him drink more than was good for him. He doesn't lean that way, I am glad to be able to say with truth; and this will be a lesson to him."

"You haven't told me yet what is the matter," remarked Eola.

"I'm coming to it all in good time. It appears he was quarrelsome in his cups. That's the odd part about drink, miss; you never know how it's going to act on your temperament. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'Liquor is like love, Maria, me dear; some it will make joyful, others sad; some will want to be friends with everybody; others will fight on the smallest pretence.' So it was with young William; he must needs fight another man in the canteen who was just as far gone as himself; and properly punished he was for his pains. The sergeant treated him leniently as it was his first offence; and gave him a few days' leave to recover. The boy is full of sorrow and repentance. He doesn't trouble about his black eye one little bit. What he feels is the shame of it. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Shame cuts deeper than any whip, and the pain we bring on ourselves is the hardest of all to bear.' My boy is feeling the truth of his father's saying nicely," concluded Mrs. Hulver, with grim satisfaction.

"What was it that provoked the quarrel?"

"William was too far gone in drink to remember much; but he thinks that they were all talking about these sufferagette women--I'd make them suffer if I was the King!--and the man he fought said something very nasty about the sex. I shouldn't have troubled if I'd been William. Just look at the harm the hussies do! Here's William that knocked about and blackened over the eyes that his own father wouldn't know him, all through talking about them! As if God hadn't made my boy dark enough in his complexion without their interference! But as long as there are women to love there will be men to fight over them. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'When the Almighty gave ould Adam his wife, he handed him the shillelagh and told him to take care and use it like a gentleman. It was only after the devil interfered that Adam thought of turning it against the lady herself.' It was the woman that started men to fight and she will keep it up to the finish," concluded Mrs. Hulver, with some heat.

"I am sorry you are so troubled," said Eola.

"And I'm vexed that any of my trouble should be passed on to you. I felt that I must tell you all about it; it wasn't right to keep it from you and the master. I should have come to you last night only I didn't see the good of worrying you before the morning. This morning, of course, it's my duty to tell you the truth and to hide nothing. As William, the boy's own father, used to say: 'It's easier in the end to face the truth than to back a lie.'"

"You have him in your room, I suppose?"

"Yes, miss; on the camp bed. He has fever as well, through the cold water they soused his head in when he got violent. He will be all right in a few days. I have put a piece of raw beef on his eye and a poultice on his jaw. He won't be able to talk for a day or two, but that won't matter. As William, his father, used to say: 'Many suffer through too much talking, but very few through too much silence.' I want you to come and look at him, miss."

"Me! Oh! Mrs. Hulver! I don't think I need come. I am sure that you know what is best for him, and will see that it is done," said Eola, not at all in sympathy with the suggestion.

"All the same, miss, I should feel more satisfied if you would glance your eye over him," said Mrs. Hulver, in her most determined manner, which, as Eola knew by experience, took no denial. "It will be good for him to see how seriously you take it. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Get your shot in when and how you can; don't wait for the enemy to come and ask for it.' It's just the same with advice to the young."

"I am afraid I can't do any good."

"Oh yes, you can, miss; and it isn't you to take a back seat where duty calls and you're really wanted. Of course I know that young soldiers are hot-headed, and we can't give them or any one else our experience any more than we can give them our digestions. Experience unbought teaches naught. They've all got to have it like the measles, and it seasons them and makes men of them. As William--that was my first--used to say: 'Man is like a curry; he needs a lot of seasoning, and it can't be done all in a minute.'"

Eola rose very reluctantly. Visiting sick soldiers who were suffering from their own indiscretions was not at all to her mind. Mrs. Hulver's tongue continued to run on. She bemoaned her boy's behaviour in one breath, and made excuses for him in another, with many quotations from the sayings of the defunct Williams.

"The boy had no business to go into the canteen at all; but he's young and easily misled. As William--that was my first--used to say: 'You can't roll a good cigar with green leaf.'"

Then as Eola lagged behind, showing increasing disinclination for her task, she urged her more strongly. "Come along, miss, please! Come for my sake and show yourself. It's for his good. You need not stay long. Just stand a minute near the bed and say as solemn as you can make it: 'William, I'm sorry to see you like this. Let it be a lesson!' Then you turn and go away quite slowly, and you say to me as you leave the room: 'This is very sad, Mrs. Hulver, very sad in one so young!' he won't forget it in a hurry you may be sure. Dear! dear! who would have thought it! As William--that was my third--used to say: 'Reckless youth makes rueful age.'"

As she talked she led the way to her little sitting-room. The door was open. At the further end was a camp cot and on it lay huddled the unhappy hero of the canteen row. He still wore his scarlet uniform to Eola's relief. She was dreading lest she should find him tucked up like a baby in bed. The poor fellow had undoubtedly suffered from his indiscretion. His head was tied up with raw beef and poultices, and the fever produced a shivering that necessitated the shawl muffled round his shoulders.

"A miserable-looking creature for a mother to call son! isn't he, miss? As William, his father, used to say: 'Quarrels are like fire, more easily started than stopped; and those who get into them usually come out burnt.'"

"Poor fellow, I hope he isn't much hurt," murmured Eola, quite forgetting her instructions. She stood about three feet away from the bed with as much ease as if she had been inspecting a sleeping cobra.

"Miss Wenaston says she is sorry to see you like this, William," said Mrs. Hulver promptly, and in disapproval of Eola's weakness. "She says let it be a lesson to you to keep out of the way of them that want to hurt you. As your father used to say: 'Don't go into action if you can help it; but if you have to fight, take the measure of your enemy's strength.'"

"You mustn't worry the poor fellow, Mrs. Hulver. Get him well first before you scold him," said Eola, turning away with more haste than she had come.

"That's all very well, miss; but as William--that was my third--used to say: 'What's the good of trying to beat the dog after you've let him loose?' Young William over there," she turned and looked towards the prostrate figure, raising her voice so that nothing should be lost to the sick man, "has got to learn his lesson; who it is that he can fight, and who he had best leave alone. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'Men are like dogs; and until they have taken the measure of their own strength against the strength of others there can be no peace for anybody.' It was good of the sergeant to send him off at once to me. If the commanding officer had seen him in that condition there would have been trouble. William told me last time he was here that the colonel was very stiff with all offenders, especially in the matter of drink. Likely as not he has never been drunk himself and he doesn't know how easily a man may be overtook when once he gets among others in the canteen. Commanding officers, like artillery drivers, differ; one is easy with his team; another will take up every fault; but as William--that was my third--used to say: 'A regiment is like a team; it doesn't have the choosing of its own C.O. any more than a bullock chooses its driver or its road.'"

Eola made her escape at last, and when her brother came in to lunch she told him the story of Mrs. Hulver's trouble. He was not much interested, nor had he much sympathy with the foolish young man. He expressed a hope that the worthy woman would not see too much of her son. His second visit had followed very closely on his first.

"After all we mustn't forget that Mrs. Hulver, for all her excellent ways, is a Eurasian. She possesses the family loyalty that marks the race, and will never turn her back on any relative while she has a shelter to offer, no matter what the character of the individual may be."

"I am quite sure," responded Eola warmly, "that she will not allow us to be worried or out of pocket, however worried she may be herself."

"All the same there is a strain of the 'soft-hearted old fool' about her that must not be disregarded; and she must be protected against herself if necessary. If this boy turns up too often I shall have something to say to him. Did you see the precious young idiot himself?"

"She insisted on it."

"Was he quiet?"

"As quiet as a bad go of fever and a black eye could make him."

"I think I'll have a look at him myself, and if he is fit for it I shall give him a bit of a lecture."

"She hasn't spared him herself," remarked Eola. "He is poulticed with beef and bread and admonished with the wise sayings of the three Williams continuously. I wonder how he can take it all so quietly."

"Perhaps I had better defer my lecture if that is so. Any way I will go and see him. He may as well be aware of the fact that his presence here is known to us both."

He went to the door of Mrs. Hulver's sitting-room. It was open and revealed much the same sight as had met Eola's eyes, except that Mrs. Hulver was in the midst of dressing the damaged eye. She held a large slice of raw meat in her hand which she was carefully adjusting over his temple and cheek, covering his eye altogether. She turned her head at the sound of the master's footstep.

"Is that you, sir? I'll come directly. This is nearly finished. I'm changing the beef on young William's eye. Miss Wenaston told you the trouble I am in over this budmash of a boy?"

As she talked she adjusted the wrappings and tucked the shawl round the patient's shoulders. He was lying on his side. At the sound of the Principal's voice he stirred uneasily.

"Now, you keep quiet, William, or you'll fidget the plasters out of place. You have got to be patient. There's a time for fighting for soldiers, and there's a time for keeping quiet, and that time is now."

She came towards Dr. Wenaston, who had stopped on the threshold and continued, addressing herself to him instead of her son.

"As William--that was my first--used to say: 'There's a season for everything. Even the bamboo must be cut when the moon is waxing or it will be good for nothing.'"

"I am sorry this has occurred, Mrs. Hulver," said the Principal, with a seriousness that would have set the pulses of his pupils going, but which had no such effect on his housekeeper. "The hospital would have been the best place for him. He mustn't think that he can run to his mother at every bruise and scratch."

"It would have been a case of guardroom not hospital, sir, if it hadn't been for the kindness of the sergeant. As it is his first offence it would have been the first step towards destroying his clean sheets; and where would have been his chance of promotion if he didn't keep them clean? The licking he has had will do him no harm. It will teach him to keep off drink. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'When beer goes in wisdom goes out.' You'd like to look at him, sir. Come up to the bed. He's too ashamed to make a salute, and his head is too bad to allow of his sitting up."

Wenaston walked into the room, and like Eola stood for a short time by the side of the cot. He felt that it would be like hitting a man when he was down to reproach the sufferer in his present condition.

"I will see him again when he is better and have a talk with him," he said. "You must let me know how he gets on."

"Yes, sir; a serious talking-to will do him no end of good." She bent over the patient and laid her hand on his head. "You need not shiver, William. The Doctor will treat you kinder than those budmashes treated you in the canteen." She turned to Wenaston again and continued: "Lor! sir, how easy fighting comes to men in the army. It seems like a second nature to them."

"It is their profession, Mrs. Hulver," said Wenaston, as he moved towards the door.

"That's exactly what William, my third, used to say. He was an Irishman and his blood was soon up. When I complained one day about his being quarrelsome with a neighbour his reply was: 'Maria, me dear,' he always began like that--he was such a gentleman--'Maria, me dear; it's second nature for soldiers to fight, the same as it is for dogs to bark and bite. That's what the Government keeps us for; and a soldier who is worthy of the name doesn't think he is earning his pay without it.' I often used to look at the men loafing round barracks with nothing to do, and to think that in times of peace they were like chimneys that had no fire in them."

"Quite so! quite so!" said Wenaston, making his way to the door.

Mrs. Hulver followed closely with a continuous stream of remarks, from which he strove in vain to escape.

"As soon as ever young William is fit for it I'll send him to you, sir, for a good dressing-down. You must check him for his quick temper. As his own father used to say: 'A hasty man never wants for woe.' And I should be glad if you would point out the danger of drink and how it upsets the judgment. Also you might say a word or two on the folly of fighting when the odds are against you. Don't let him talk. Fill him up with as much good advice as you can get in in the time that you can spare for him. As William--that was my second--used to say: 'If counsel is good no matter who gives it.'"

"All right, Mrs. Hulver; I'll do my best," said Wenaston, as he beat a hasty retreat towards the college buildings. The housekeeper's tongue had won the day though she might not have known it, and his warning to her on softheartedness and the lecture to her son were still undelivered. However, he promised himself that he would interview the man later on alone when he was less of an "object," as his mother expressed it, and would talk to him seriously.

Mrs. Hulver stood at her door watching the Principal as he hurried away. When he had disappeared she turned back into the room and went to the patient. Leaning tenderly over him she placed her cool soft hand on his forehead, slipping it underneath the bandages.

"Cheer up, William; cheer up, sonnie!" she murmured. "God is where He was and He will help you through. It's no good fretting when grieving is no comfort. As William--that was my third--used to say: 'Things you can't avoid are best taken cheerfully.' No, don't try to speak. You've got to be silent till you're well, and I'll see that you're let off the master's lecture."

She called to the butler, who appeared immediately followed by the cook carrying a saucepan.

"It's all ready, ma'am."

He poured the chicken broth through a strainer into a cup and handed it to her.

"That's all right, Ramachetty," she said with approval, as she leaned over it. "That's the kind of stuff that will make my boy well. You can go. Shut the door after you. I don't wish my son to catch cold. Tell the sweeper woman to sit outside the bathroom. I shall want her later on to boil the kettle for fresh poultices."