PAGE 20
The Man Who Would Be King
by
But do you know what they did to Peachey between two pine-trees?They crucified him, Sir, as Peacheys hand will show. They used wooden pegs for his hands and his feet; and he didnt die. He hung there and screamed, and they took him down next day, and said it was a miracle that he wasnt dead. They took him downpoor old Peachey that hadnt done them any harmthat hadnt done them any
He rocked to and fro and wept bitterly, wiping his eyes with the back of his scarred hands and moaning like a child for some ten minutes.
They was cruel enough to feed him up in the temple, because they said he was more of a God than old Daniel that was a man. Then they turned him out on the snow, and told him to go home, and Peachey came home in about a year, begging along the roads quite safe; for Daniel Dravot he walked before and said, Come along, Peachey. Its a big thing were doing. The mountains they danced at night, and the mountains they tried to fall on Peacheys head, but Dan he held up his hand, and Peachey came along bent double. He never let go of Dans hand, and he never let go of Dans head. They gave it to him as a present in the temple, to remind him not to come again, and though the crown was pure gold, and Peachey was starving, never would Peachey sell the same. You knew Dravot, Sir!You knew Right Worshipful Brother Dravot!Look at him now!
He fumbled in the mass of rags round his bent waist; brought out a black horsehair bag embroidered with silver thread, and shook therefrom on to my tablethe dried withered head of Daniel Dravot!The morning sun that had long been paling the lamps struck the red beard and blind sunken eyes; struck, too, a heavy circlet of gold studded wit
h raw turquoises, that Carnehan placed tenderly on the battered temples.
You beold now, said Carnehan, the Emperor in his abit as he livedthe King of Kafiristan with his crown upon his head. Poor old Daniel that was a monarch once!
I shuddered, for, in spite of defacements manifold, I recognized the head of the man of Marwar Junction. Carnehan rose to go. I attempted to stop him. He was not fit to walk abroad. Let me take away the whisky, and give me a little money, he gasped. I was a King once. Ill go to the Deputy Commissioner and ask to be set in the Poorhouse till I get my health. No, thank you, I cant wait till you get a carriage for me. Ive urgent private affairsin the southat Marwar.
He shambled out of the office and departed in the direction of the Deputy Commissioners house. That day at noon I had occasion to go down the blinding hot Mall, and I saw a crooked man crawling along the white dust of the roadside, his hat in his hand, quavering dolorously after the fashion of street-singers at Home. There was not a soul in sight, and he was out of all possible earshot of houses. And he sang through his nose, turning his head from right to left:
The Son of Man goes forth to war, A golden crown to gain; His blood-red banner streams afar Who follows in his train? |
I waited to hear no more, but put the poor wretch into my carriage and drove him off to the nearest missionary for eventual transfer to the Asylum. He repeated the hymn twice while he was with me whom he did not in the least recognize, and I left him singing it to the missionary.