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“Devil a doubt!” said Ortheris; “but I’ve ‘eard summat like that before!”

Mulvaney dismissed the impertinence with a lofty wave of his hand and continued–

“An’ the orf’cers av the rig’mint I was in in thim days was orfcers–gran’ men, wid a manner on ’em, an’ a way wid ’em such as is not made these days–all but wan–wan o’ the capt’ns. A bad dhrill, a wake voice, an’ a limp leg–thim three things are the signs av a bad man. You bear that in your mind, Orth’ris, me son.

“An’ the Colonel av the rig’mint had a daughter–wan av thim lamblike, bleatin’, pick-me-up-an’-carry-me-or-I’ll-die gurls such as was made for the natural prey av men like the Capt’n, who was iverlastin’ payin’ coort to her, though the Colonel he said time an’ over, ‘Kape out av the brute’s way, my dear.’ But he niver had the heart for to send her away from the throuble, bein’ as he was a widower, an’ she their wan child.”

“Stop a minute, Mulvaney,” said I; “how in the world did you come to know these things?”

“How did I come?” said Mulvaney, with a scornful grunt; “bekaze I’m turned durin’ the Quane’s pleasure to a lump av wood, lookin’ out straight forninst me, wid a–a–candelabbrum in my hand, for you to pick your cards out av, must I not see nor feel? Av coorse I du! Up my back, an’ in my boots, an’ in the short hair av the neck–that’s where I kape my eyes whim I’m on duty an’ the reg’lar wans are fixed. Know! Take my word for it, sorr, ivrything an’ a great dale more is known in a rig’mint; or fwhat wud be the use av a Mess Sargint, or a Sargint’s wife doin’ wet-nurse to the Major’s baby? To reshume. He was a bad dhrill was this Capt’n–a rotten bad dhrill–an’ whin first I ran me eye over him, I sez to myself: ‘My Militia bantam!’ I sez, ‘My cock av a Gosport dunghill’–’twas from Portsmouth he came to us–‘there’s combs to be cut,’ sez I, ‘an’ by the grace av God, ’tis Terence Mulvaney will cut thim.’

“So he wint menowderin’, and minanderin’, an’ blandandhering roun’ an’ about the Colonel’s daughter, an’ she, poor innocint, lookin’ at him like a Comm’ssariat bullock looks at the Comp’ny cook. He’d a dhirty little scrub av a black moustache, an’ he twisted an’ turned ivry wurrd he used as av he found ut too sweet for to spit out.

“Eyah! He was a tricky man an’ a liar by natur’. Some are born so. He was wan. I knew he was over his belt in money borrowed from natives; besides a lot av other matthers which, in regard for your presince, sorr, I will oblitherate. A little av fwhat I knew, the Colonel knew, for he wud have none av him, an’ that, I’m thinkin’, by fwhat happened aftherward, the Capt’in knew.

“Wan day, bein’ mortial idle, or they wud never ha’ thried ut, the rig’mint gave amsure theatricals–orf’cers an’ orfcers’ ladies. You’ve seen the likes time an’ again, sorr, an’ poor fun ’tis for them that sit in the back row an’ stamp wid their boots for the honor av the rig’mint. I was told off for to shif’ the scenes, haulin’ up this an’ draggin’ down that. Light work ut was, wid lashins av beer and the gurl that dhressed the orf’cers’ ladies–but she died in Aggra twelve years gone, an’ my tongue’s gettin’ the betther av me. They was actin’ a play thing called Sweethearts, which you may ha’ heard av, an’ the Colonel’s daughter she was a lady’s maid. The Capt’n was a boy called Broom–Spread Broom was his name in the play. Thin I saw–ut come out in the actin’–fwhat I niver saw before, an’ that was that he was no gentleman. They was too much together, thim two, a-whishperin’ behind the scenes I shifted, an’ some av what they said I heard; for I was death–blue death an’ ivy–on the comb-cuttin’. He was iverlastin’ly oppressing her to fall in wid some sneakin’ schame av his, an’ she was thryin’ to stand out against him, but not as though she was set in her will. I wonder now in thim days that my ears did not grow a yard on me head wid list’nin’. But I looked straight forninst me an’ hauled up this an’ dragged down that, such as was my duty, an’ the orf’cers’ ladies sez one to another, thinkin’ I was out av listen-reach: ‘Fwhat an obligin’ young man is this Corp’ril Mulvaney!’ I was a Corp’ril then. I was rejuced aftherward, but, no matther, I was a Corp’ril wanst.