"Since
you left, the Regiment has taken to fever and is fairly rotten with it--two
hundred in hospital, about a hundred in cells--drinking to keep off fever--and
the Companies on parade fifteen file strong at the outside. There's rather
more sickness in the out-villages than I care for, hut then I'm so blistered
with prickly-heat that I'm ready to hang myself. What's the yarn about your
mashing a Miss Haverley up there? Not serious, I hope? You're over-young to
hang millstones round your neck, and the Colonel will turf you out of that in
double-quick time if you attempt it."
It was not the Colonel that brought Bobby out of Simla, but a much more to be
respected Commandant. The sick ness in the out-villages spread, the Bazar was
put out of bounds, and then came the news that the Tail Twisters must go into
camp. The message flashed to the Hill stations.--"Cholera--Leave stopped--
Officers recalled." Alas, for the white gloves in the neatly soldered boxes,
the rides and the dances and picnics that were to he, the loves half spoken,
and the debts unpaid! Without demur and without question, fast as tongue could
fly or pony gallop, hack to their Regiments and their Batteries, as though
they were hastening to their weddings, fled the subalterns.
Pages:
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470