Gil the Gunner, George Manville Fenn [fun books to read for adults txt] 📗
- Author: George Manville Fenn
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“Stay with you! What for?” I faltered.
“I will make you a general, now—at once,” he said excitedly, “and ten thousand men shall bend down before their Moslem rajah’s friend, who, from this time forward, will lead and direct my artillery.”
“Rajah!” I exclaimed, surprised but not surprised, for I had half expected some such proposal, but of course only in a very minor form.
“Look here, Vincent,” he continued, bending forward, and speaking excitedly. “When I came to your barracks as a humble syce, it was to learn everything about your guns, and the way in which the horse artillery was trained. In those days, beaten, kicked, trampled upon, I always had you in my mind, and I watched you, how quick, how clever, and how brave you were. My heart warmed to you even then; but as I have grown to know you better and seen what you are in the field in action with your men, I have said again and again that there could be no one better for my trusted friend and general.”
I laughed, though a curious feeling came over me that the man who would make me such a proposal must be mad.
“Why do you laugh?” he said. “Are you pleased at what I propose?”
“Pleased? No,” I said frankly. “You are laughing at me—making fun of me.”
He frowned.
“Is it so trifling a thing, that I should laugh over it?”
“No, it is not a trifling matter; but it seems to be trifling with me to propose such a thing. You cannot be in earnest.”
“I am in earnest, and it is wise,” he said sternly.
“But it is an appointment for an old, experienced man, and I suppose that I am a mere boy.”
“The great Company thought you old enough to take charge of their guns,” he said gravely.
“Yes, but with older officers over me.”
“Well; I shall be over you; but you will have full charge of all my cannons. You understand them thoroughly.”
“Of course I know a little about them.”
“Little!” he cried. “It is magnificent. Have I not seen you often? Did I not see you carry them off after I had captured them, and was training my men? but slowly—oh, so slowly.”
“You forget that I was only a junior officer acting under my captain’s orders. It is nonsense, and you are saying all this to make me vain, to flatter me.”
“I never stoop to flatter,” he said coldly. “It is the truth. Yes, you are young, but you will soon grow older and more experienced, and train my men till they have all the speed of yours. Do you tell me that you could not drill and teach my soldiers?”
“Oh no, I do not tell you that,” I said frankly, “because I could.”
“Yes; of course you could, and it will be a proud position for you.”
“What! as a British officer in the service of a rajah?”
“Yes; I could tell you of a dozen cases where an English soldier has drilled his master’s forces as you will drill them, for I must have large troops of horse artillery like you had. You shall be in command.”
I looked hard at him, for even then I felt that he must be joking with me, the proposal seemed to be so out of all reason, and I had so small an estimate of my own powers, that there were moments when I felt ready to laugh, and felt sure that if Brace, serious as he was, had heard it, he would have burst into a hearty fit of mirth.
But the rajah’s face was grave and stern, and his words were full of the calm conviction that I was the very person to take the command of his men and train them as he wished.
As he sat gazing at me, waiting for me to accept his proposal, I tried to treat it in all seriousness, as if quietly discussing the matter with him.
“Do I understand you rightly?” I said; “that you wish me to be your chief artillery officer?”
“Yes, that is it,” he said, “to arrange everything, and above all to get up as quickly as possible three or four troops of horse artillery. You know exactly how it should be done, and could teach the men till they were as quick and dashing as your own.”
“It would require Englishmen then,” I thought, for I could not see that it was possible with Indians.
“Would it take very long?” he said. “You could start with men from the cavalry, and so only have to teach them gun-drill.”
“Yes, it would take very long,” I said.
“Never mind; they would get better every day. I should be satisfied, for I know what you can do.”
“Why do you wish to have these troops?” I said, more for the sake of keeping back my reply than for anything else.
“Why? To make me strong,” he cried excitedly. “With men like that, and the quick-firing guns, I shall be more powerful than any of the rajahs near. But you hesitate; you do not say yes.”
I looked at him sadly.
“Come,” he continued, “at your age there should not be any hanging back. Have you thought what it means?”
“You have taken me so by surprise,” I replied.
“Oh yes; but can you not see that I make you at once a great man? one whom I trust in everything, and who will be next in my country to myself? Come, speak. You will accept?”
His eyes were fixed upon me searchingly, and I felt that I must speak now, though I trembled for the effect my words would have upon such a determined, relentless man, accustomed to have his will in all things.
“There are plenty of men more suited to the task than I am,” I said with a last attempt to put off the final words.
“Where?” he said, coldly. “Bring me a thousand older and more experienced than you, and I should refuse them all.”
“Why?”
“Because I like and trust you, and know that you would be faithful.”
“Then,” I cried, snatching at the chance of escape, “if you knew I should be faithful, why did you propose such a thing?”
“I do not understand you,” he said coldly.
“I am one of the Company’s officers, sworn to be true to my duties. How can I break my oath? I should be a traitor, and worthy of death.”
“You have been faithful,” he said quietly. “I knew you would say that. But the tie is broken now.”
“No; not while I am in their service.”
“You are no longer in their service,” he said, watching me intently the while. “The great Company is dead; its troops are defeated, scattered, and in a short time there will hardly be a white man left in the land over which they have tyrannised so long.”
I sank back staring at him wildly, for his words carried conviction, and setting aside the horrors that such a state of affairs suggested, and the terrible degradation for England, I began thinking of myself cut off from all I knew, separated from my people, perhaps for ever, asked to identify myself with the enemies of my country—become, in short, a renegade.
“It sounds terrible to you,” he said gravely; “but you must accept it, and be content. It is your fate.”
“No,” I cried passionately, “it is impossible. I cannot.”
“Why?” he said coldly. “Have I not promised you enough?”
“Yes, more than enough,” I cried; and nerved myself with recollections of all my old teachings, and my duty as an officer and a gentleman. “It is not a question of rewards, but of honour. You ask me to train your men, who have risen up against their rulers, to fight against my people.”
“No,” he said; “your people are conquered. It is more to strengthen me against those who will be jealous of my power—to make me strong.”
“Oh, I could do that.”
“Then you accept?” he said eagerly.
“No; I could not, unless it was by the command of those whose commission I hold.”
“Wait. Think about it,” he said gravely, as he rose with an impatient gesture, and a heavy frown upon his brow.
But it passed off quickly, and he turned and offered me his hand.
“Good-bye,” he said quietly. “I am not angry; I like you the more. If you had said ‘yes’ quickly, and been dazzled by the thoughts of becoming a great officer, with show, and grand horses, and attendants, I should have shrunk within myself, and said, ‘You are wrong. He is only mean and vain like others. He is not worthy of your trust.’ I know now that you are worthy, and you must come to me and be more than friend—my brother and chief counsellor. For I mean to be great among my people here, and raise up a grand nation from those who have been trampled down so long. This is a mighty country, Vincent, and should be ruled over by one who can make himself great.”
He shook hands and left the shelter of the tree, while as he stepped out into the sunshine the man who had been holding his horse ran forward quickly as if he had been on the watch, and the rajah mounted and rode away, the trampling I heard directly after telling my educated ears that he must have a pretty good escort after all.
I went back to my tent directly after, glad to lie down and think of my position, and to try and work out some course to follow when the rajah came back, as I felt convinced he would in a very few days.
I felt that he must like me. His manners proved that; but the liking might be very shallow, while beneath it all the reasons—the true reasons—were very deep.
This, then, was why he had brought me here, and had me so carefully nursed back to life. It was because I was young, and could easily weld myself into the life of those about me, and with my knowledge, and whatever adaptability and knowledge I possessed as a gunner, I was to be henceforth devoted to his service—to use his expression—to make him strong.
I don’t think I was vain, for my thoughts had agreed here, as I said to myself that I was clever as an artilleryman. No, it was not vanity, for I was strong in my drill, for the simple reason that I was ready to ride anywhere at anything, when I joined, and because I was so devoted to my profession, and thoroughly gloried in keeping those with whom I had to do perfect in every evolution they had to perform.
And as I lay there—a mere boy, suddenly called upon to undertake such a tremendous task, I calmly said to myself—
“Yes; I suppose I could drill up a lot of his men, who can ride, into decent gunners in time; and it would be very pleasant to be a great man, and the rajah’s favourite; but it is impossible. I could not undertake it. I should deserve to have the lace stripped from my uniform before all the men, and then to be kicked out of the service.
“What shall I do?” I said, as I lay there. “He will try first to persuade me; then he will threaten, in spite of his smooth way, for he can be fierce enough, that’s plain. If he does, shall I have strength enough to hold out, and refuse to promise; or shall I, at last, quite in despair, give way and act as he wishes?”
I lay, going over it all, for a long while, and at last came to the despairing conclusion that there was only one way out of the difficulty, for, in my position, I doubted my powers of holding out—only one way, and that was to escape.
This idea roused me for a few minutes, but I felt despondent again very soon, as
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