At the Point of the Bayonet: A Tale of the Mahratta War

"He offered me a number of weapons and things but, as I had no place to put them in, I could not be bothered with them. I do not think that cash was at all a strong point with him, and I don't suppose he had a thousand dollars in his treasury. I was a little surprised that he did not offer me half a dozen young ladies as wives; but had he done so, I should have resisted the temptation, as they would have been even more trouble than the weapons."

"You never fell in love with any of the Indian beauties, cousin Harry?"

"I have never seen any to fall in love with. The ladies of the upper class in India, whether Hindus or Mussulmans, always go closely veiled; and as to the English ladies, in the first place they were nearly all married, and in the second place I went as little into society as I could help, being on the Governor General's staff, and nearly always away on duty. Certainly I never saw anyone who caused my pulse to beat faster; which I believe, from what I have read, is one of the many symptoms of being in love."

Harry then enquired about his mother's relations.

"I, unfortunately, can tell you nothing about them. She was an only daughter when she married your father. Both her parents died, years ago. They only had a lease of the place they lived in, and I really cannot tell you anything whatever about them. There was a son, who would, I suppose, succeed to any property his father left; but he was a ne'er-do-well, and was seldom at home, and I have never seen or heard of him, since."

"Well, I am quite content with the relations that I have found, and shall not trouble myself to seek further."

Four days passed. At the end of that time, Mr. Lindsay received a letter from his lawyer and, after breakfast, asked Harry to go into the library with him.

"About that business that we were talking about, I have today received an answer to my letter. My lawyer is of opinion, from what I told him of these papers, that your case is a strong one; and that though, if I chose, I might give you a great deal of trouble, he thinks that in the long run you would succeed. As I don't want to give you trouble; and as I am, myself, as completely convinced that you are my brother Harry's son as that I am his brother, the matter may now be considered as finally settled."

"Quite so, uncle. I don't want to hear anything more about it. If you choose to be obstinate, and turn out, I can only say that I shall be sorry that the old house, where my father and you were both born, should go to wreck and ruin. At any rate, let the matter rest, for the present. Possibly it may yet be arranged to the satisfaction of all parties."

"It will certainly not be arranged to my satisfaction," the squire grumbled, "unless you become master here."

"We will talk it over, in six months' time."

He related the conversation to his wife who, to his surprise, looked pleased.

"Nothing could be better," she said; "it would be an excellent plan."

"What on earth do you mean, Louisa?"

"You are as blind as an owl, Peter. There can be only one meaning in what he has said, only one arrangement that could be satisfactory to all parties."

"And what is that, my dear?" the squire said, a little testily.

"I mean, of course, that he should marry Mary."

The squire sat down suddenly, in his surprise.

"Such an idea never entered my head," he said. "But why should you think of it? Why, the young fellow has only been here four or five days!"

"That is quite long enough for him to see that Mary is a charming girl," Mrs. Lindsay said. "He has seen very little of ladies; and he is, no doubt, struck with the idea that she is an extremely nice girl. I don't say that he is in love with her, yet; but quite enough, perhaps, to foresee that, ere long, he will feel more ardent than he does at present; and that it is the only arrangement possible, since we are determined to turn out for him.

"Now mind, Peter, you do not throw out the slightest hint, either to him or to her, that such a solution has ever occurred to us. It might spoil everything. It would make Mary shy with him, and might cause him to be awkward. You give your consent to remain here, for six months. By that time the question will have solved itself. If I am wrong, no harm will have been done. If I am right, the arrangement will be, as he says, a satisfactory one to us all."

"I was always against cousins marrying," Mr. Lindsay said, doubtfully.

"Don't be absurd, Peter. I don't say that, in some cases, there is not a good deal to be said against it; but where both the man and the woman are healthy, and come of healthy families, no union can be more likely to be happy."

"But I think I have heard you speak–"

"Never mind what you have heard me speak, sir; circumstances alter cases, and this case is altogether an exceptional one.

"We certainly could not wish for a finer young fellow as Mary's husband. He is a desirable partner, in every respect. He is himself well off and, although I quite agree with you that, whatever it costs, we must give the dear old place up, I grant that it would be very pleasant to avoid so terrible a wrench.

"The one thing I don't like is that man of his. He moves about so noiselessly that it is like having a ghost in the room."

"It is you who are absurd, now, Louisa," the squire said. "The man has, over and over again, proved himself to be a most faithful friend to him. I own that it is a little trying to see him standing behind Harry's chair, without moving, except when his master wants something; but after all, that is less fidgety than having footmen dodging about you.

"Well, Louisa, I will take particular heed of what you have said, and will be mum as a mouse, until we see how the cat jumps."

Mrs. Lindsay's prevision turned out correct. Harry remained a week longer at Parley House. Then he heard that an estate was for sale, two miles away, and drove over quietly to inspect it. Ten days later he wrote from London, and said that he had bought the place.

"He is the most obstinate fellow that I ever knew!" Mr. Lindsay exclaimed, as he read the letter.

"What is it, dear?"

"He has bought Hungerford's place, and never gave me the slightest hint of his intentions."

"Well, I think it will be very nice to have him so near us," Mrs. Lindsay said, decidedly.

"Oh, of course, and it will be so handy for–"

"Peter, will you take another cup of tea?" his wife said, sharply; and Mr. Lindsay knew that he had nearly put his foot in it.

A week later Harry came down again–to see, as he said, what required to be done to the house; and he needed no persuasion to stay at Parley Hall. To decide upon matters, he needed a great deal of advice, both from Mrs. Lindsay and Mary; and then, having put the house into the hands of the builders and decorators, he went up to town again. However, he frequently ran down to see how things were getting on and, before the alterations were all finished, Mary had consented to become its mistress.

Abdool preferred to remain as his master's body servant, as before. He had even, before leaving India, picked up a certain amount of English; and had improved considerably his knowledge of the language during the long voyage. Mary, fortunately, had not shared in her mother's feelings about him but, on learning that he had, several times, saved Harry's life, had taken to him greatly. He never returned to his native land.

And although Harry and his wife talked, sometimes, of making the voyage to India, they were never enabled to accomplish it for, as children grew up around them, Mary was no longer free to travel. Abdool's devotion was now divided between his master and mistress and the little ones, who were never tired of listening to his stories of their father's adventures.

Mr. and Mrs. Lindsay lived to an advanced age, and died within a few weeks of each other. Harry then moved to Parley Hall, and sold the estate he had bought; as the management of one estate, and his duties as county magistrate, occupied as much time as he cared to give. The only complaint made against him, by his neighbours, was that he did not care for field sports. But, as he said, he had seen enough bloodshed to last him his lifetime; and would neither shed the blood of bird nor beast, though he had no quarrel with those who liked that sort of thing.

He kept up a regular correspondence, to the end of her life, with his old nurse; and his interest in his Indian friends never abated. He was an old man when the Indian mutiny broke out, and two of his grandsons took their share in the long siege of Delhi, and served with both the forces which, under Sir Colin Campbell, fought their way into Lucknow, and finally broke the neck of the Sepoy mutiny.