Yet we must pacify them. That is my duty, Father. I will not attempt to instruct you in yours, but I can at least see to it that your choice is an informed one."
"Some of your men have told me much the same thing, — said Lucas. "I can well appreciate the situation, General, but it changes nothing. I, too, have my duty, as you pointed out."
Blood nodded curtly. "Well-spoken, Father. All’s been said, then. See the quartermaster about drawing some supplies. We leave on a forced march first thing in the morning. And on your way out, see the clerk and leave the names of your next of kin."
"You’re most kind, General," said Lucas.
Blood grunted. "Oh, and one more thing, before you leave. This is a military expedition, you understand. As such, I’m in no position to spare you any orderlies. I travel without one myself. However, seeing that you are traveling in company with a lady, may I suggest you retain one of the locals as a khawasin. He’ll have to double as a bhisti, carrying water for the troops when needed, but that’s expected. I would suggest you hire a Hindustani, they’re generally less trouble. Now you’ll excuse me, Father, I have a great many things to see to. The quartermaster will see to it that you and Miss Cross have a place to bed down for the night. Enjoy it, it’ll be the last decent night’s sleep you’re likely to get in a long time."
After having seen to their supplies for the next day’s march, Lucas and Andre went to the barracks in search of Finn. He proved easy enough to find. All they had to do was follow the sound of raucous laughter and drinkfueled song. It was Mulvaney’s voice that carried the verse while the others joined in the chorus of a barrack-room ballad made popular by Kipling.
"I went into a public-ouse to get apint o’beer,
The publican ‘e up an’sez, ‘We serve no red-coats here. ‘
The girls Wind the bar they laughed an’ giggled fit to die,
I outs into the street again an’to myself sez I:.
O it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy go away’,
But it’s ‘Thank you, Mister Atkins,’ when the band begins to play.
The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play.
O it’s ‘Thank you, Mister Atkins,’ when the band begins to play."
Ortheris took up the next verse, howling like a stray dog.
"I went into a theatre as sober as could be,
They gave a drunk civilian room, but ‘adn’t none for me;
They sent me to the gallery or round the music’alls,
But when it comes to fightin’, Lord! they’ll shove me in the stalls!
For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy, wait outside’,
But it’s ‘Special train for Atkins’ when the trooper’s on the tide.
O it’s ‘Special train for A tkins’ when the trooper’s on the tide."
Learoyd’s turn came next and he sounded considerably more melodious than his cohorts.
"Yes, makin’ mock o’ uniforms that guard you while you sleep
Is cheaper than them uniforms, an’they’re starvation cheap;
An’ hustlin’ drunken soldiers when they’re goin’ large a bit
Is five times better business than paradin’ in full kit,
Then it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy, ‘ow’syersoul"’
But it’s ‘Thin red line of ‘eroes’ when the drums begin to roll.
The drums begin to roll, my boys, the drums begin to roll,
O it’s ‘Thin red line of ‘eroes’ when the drums begin to roll."
Delaney picked up the honors for the next verse, laying into it with gusto, to the applause of the soldiers, who were unaccustomed to having their officers being so regular around them.
"Wearen’t no thin red ‘eroes, nor we aren’t no blackguards too.
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
A n’if sometimes our conduck isn’t all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don’t grow into plaster saints;
While it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Tommy, fall Wind’,
But it’s ‘Please to walk in front, sir,’ when there’s trouble in the wind.
There’s trouble in the wind, my boys, there’s trouble in the wind.
O it’s ‘Please to walk in front, sir,’ when there’s trouble in the wind."
The entire group was struck dumb with amazement when Andre chimed in with the final verse.
"You talk ‘o better food for us, an’ schools, an’ fires, an’alclass="underline"
We’ll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational.
Don’t mess about the cook-room stops, but prove it to our face
The Widow’s Uniform is not the soldier-man’s disgrace."
Delaney joined in with her on the chorus, and after a moment’s disbelieving hesitation, the others did as well.
"For it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ ‘Chuck him out, the brute!’
But it’s ‘Savior of ‘is country’ when the guns begin to shoot;
An’ it’s Tommy this, an’ Tommy that, an’ anything you please,
An’ Tom my ain’t a bloomin’fool, you bet that Tommy sees! "
‘Pon my soul, miss," said Mulvaney. rising to his feet along with the others, "that was a right proper finish to a right proper barracks song. An’ it’s the first time I ever ‘eard a lady sing so lustily since I was in the good of’ East End at Miss Violet McKerizie’s-" "Tavern," Learoyd said very quickly. "She was a lovely singer, Miss McKenzie was. Warmed our hearts to hear her sing, it did."
Mulvaney turned crimson and looked down at the floor. Ortheris pretended to have something caught in his throat.
I’m very flattered, gentlemen," said Andre, "to be compared to someone with so much … warmth."
Ortheris broke into a fit of coughing.
"Do sit down, gentlemen," said Andre. "No need to stand on my account. And someone please give Private Ortheris a drink before he strangulates himself. Then someone can give me one, as well."
"So how did your conference with the general go, Father"" Delaney said.
"He attempted to induce me to change my mind," said Lucas, "but said I would be welcome to accompany the force if I was dead set on going."
"Well, then, welcome to you, Father," said Mulvaney. "An’ mind now, you boys watch your lips in the presence o’ the clergy an’ his lady!"
"Somehow that didn’t quite come out sounding right, Mulvaney," said Learoyd wryly.
"Well, bleedin’ ‘Ell," Mulvaney said, you know what I damn well mean!"
Learoyd rolled his eyes.
"Perhaps you gentlemen could be of some assistance," Lucas said. "Where might I find a Hindustani attendant for myself and Miss Cross on the march""
Before anyone could reply, a thin, bedraggled young Hindu dressed in nothing save a dhoti and a turban leaped up from where he had been crouching in a dim corner like a dog and came running up to stand bowing before Lucas.
"Father Sahib wishes khawasin" I am good khawasin! Work very hard! Very cheap! Serve very well! Take good care of Father Sahib and Memsahib!"
‘Well, it seems we have a volunteer," said Lucas.
"You could do better than him, Father," said Learoyd. "He wouldn’t be your best choice. He’s an untouchable, you see. Outside the caste system. None of the other Hindus would have anythin’ to do with him. Poor beggar wouldn’t have any company on the march at all, no one to talk to."
"He could talk to us," said Andre.
"Any reason why we can’t take him"" said Lucas.
"The choice is yours, Father," said Learoyd.
"Good. It’s settled, then."
The Hindu dropped to his knees and began kissing Lucas’s boots, intermingling English thank-yous with a torrent of Hindi.
"Come on now, up with you, Din!" said Mulvaney, hauling him to his feet. "That’s no way to act before a proper Englishman! ‘E’s a priest, not no bleedin’ rajah! "