The Queen's Cup Read online

  E-text prepared by Martin Robb

  THE QUEEN'S CUP

  by

  G. A. Henty.

  Chapter 1.

  A large party were assembled in the drawing room of Greendale, SirJohn Greendale's picturesque old mansion house. It was early inSeptember. The men had returned from shooting, and the guests weregathered in the drawing room; in the pleasant half hour of duskwhen the lamps have not yet been lighted, though it is already toodark to read. The conversation was general, and from the latestnews from India had drifted into the subject of the Italian beliefin the Mal Occhio.

  "Do you believe in it, Captain Mallett?" asked Bertha, Sir John'sonly child, a girl of sixteen; who was nestled in an easy chairnext to that in which the man she addressed was sitting.

  "I don't know, Bertha."

  He had known her from childhood, and she had not yet reached an agewhen the formal "Miss Greendale" was incumbent upon heracquaintances.

  "I do not believe in the Italian superstition to anything like theextent they carry it. I don't think I should believe it at all ifit were not that one man has always been unlucky to me."

  "How unlucky, Captain Mallett?"

  "Well, I don't know that unlucky is the proper word, but he hasalways stood between me and success; at least, he always did, forit is some years since our paths have crossed."

  "Tell me about it."

  "Well, I have no objection, but there is not a great deal to tell.

  "I was at school with--I won't mention his name. We were about thesame age. He was a bully. I interfered with him, we had a fight,and I scored my first and only success over him. It was a verytough fight--by far the toughest I ever had. I was stronger thanhe, but he was the more active. I fancied that it would not be verydifficult to thrash him, but found that I had made a great mistake.It was a long fight, and it was only because I was in bettercondition that I won at last.

  "Well, you know when boys fight at school, in most cases theybecome better friends afterwards; but it was not so here. Herefused to shake hands with me, and muttered something about itsbeing his turn next time. Till then he had not been considered afirst-rate hand at anything; he was one of those fellows whosaunter through school, get up just enough lessons to rub alongcomfortably, never take any prominent part in games, but have alittle set of their own, and hold themselves aloof from school ingeneral.

  "Once or twice when we had played cricket he had done soexcellently that it was a grievance that he would not playregularly, and there was a sort of general idea that if he chose hecould do most things well. After that fight he changed altogether.He took to cricket in downright earnest, and was soon acknowledgedto be the best bat and best bowler in the school. Before that ithad been regarded as certain that when the captain left I should beelected, but when the time came he got a majority of votes. Ishould not have minded that, for I recognised that he was a betterplayer than I, but I fancied that he had not done it fairly, formany fellows whom I regarded as certain to support me turned roundat the last moment.

  "We were in the same form at school. He had been always near thebottom; I stood fairly up in it, and was generally second or third.He took to reading, and in six weeks after the fight won his way tothe top of the class and remained there; and not only so, but hesoon showed himself so far superior to the rest of us that he gothis remove to the form above.

  "Then there was a competition in Latin verses open to both forms.Latin verse was the one thing in which I was strong. There is asort of knack, you know, in stringing them together. A fellow maybe a duffer generally and yet turn out Latin verse better thanfellows who are vastly superior to him on other points. It wasregarded as certain that I should gain that. No one had intended togo in against me, but at the last moment he put his name down, and,to the astonishment of everyone, won in a canter.

  "We left about the same time, and went up to Oxford together, butto different Colleges. I rowed in my College Eight, he in his. Wewere above them on the river, but they made a bump every nightuntil they got behind us, and then bumped us. He was stroke of hisboat, and everyone said that success was due to his rowing, and Ibelieve it was. I did not so much mind that, for my line waschiefly sculling. I had won in my own College, and entered forHenley, where it was generally thought that I had a fair chance ofwinning the Diamonds. However, I heard a fortnight before theentries closed that he was out on the river every morning sculling.I knew what it was going to be, and was not surprised when his nameappeared next to mine in the entries.

  "We were drawn together, and he romped in six lengths ahead of me,though curiously enough he was badly beaten in the final heat. Hestroked the University afterwards. Though I was tried I did noteven get a seat in the eight, contrary to general expectation, butI know that it was his influence that kept me out of it.

  "We had only one more tussle, and again I was worsted. I went infor the Newdigate--that is the English poetry prize, you know. Ihad always been fond of stringing verses together, and the friendsto whom I showed my poem before sending it in all thought that Ihad a very good chance. I felt hopeful myself, for I had not heardthat he was thinking of competing, and, indeed, did not rememberthat he had ever written a line of verse when at school. However,when the winner was declared, there was his name again.

  "I believe that it was the disgust I felt at his superiority to mein everything that led me to ask my father to get me a commissionat once, for it seemed to me that I should never succeed inanything if he were my rival. Since then our lives have beenaltogether apart, although I have met him occasionally. Of coursewe speak, for there has never been any quarrel between us sincethat fight, but I know that he has never forgiven me, and I have asort of uneasy conviction that some day or other we shall come intocontact again.

  "I am sure that if we meet again he will do me a bad turn ifpossible. I regard him as being in some sort of way my evil genius.I own that it is foolish and absurd, but I cannot get over thefeeling."

  "Oh, it is absurd, Captain Mallett," the girl said. "He may havebeaten you in little things, but you won the Victoria Cross in theCrimea, and everyone knows that you are one of the best shots inthe country, and that before you went away you were always in thefirst flight with the hounds."

  "Ah, you are an enthusiast, Bertha. I don't say that I cannot holdmy own with most men at a good many things where not brains, butbrute strength and a quick eye are the only requisites, but I amquite convinced that if that fellow had been in the Redan that day,he would have got the Victoria Cross, and I should not. There is nodoubt about his pluck, and if it had only been to put me in theshade he would have performed some brilliant action or other thatwould have got it for him. He is a better rider than I am, at anyrate a more reckless one, and he is a better shot, too. He isincomparably more clever."

  "I cannot believe it, Captain Mallett."

  "It is quite true, Bertha, and to add to it all, he is a remarkablyhandsome fellow, a first-rate talker, and when he pleases can makehimself wonderfully popular."

  "He must be a perfect Crichton, Captain Mallett."

  "The worst of it is, Bertha, although I am ashamed of myself forthinking so, I have never been able to divest myself of the ideathat he did not play fair. There were two or three queer thingsthat happened at school in which he was always suspected of havinghad a hand, though it was never proved. I was always convinced thathe used cribs, and partly owed his place to them. I was jealousenough to believe that the Latin verses he sent in were written forhim by Rigby, who was one of the monitors, and a great dab atverses. Rigby was a great chum of his, for he was a mean fellow,and my rival was always well supplied with money, and to do himjustice, liberal with it.

  "Then, just before we left school, he carried off the prize inswimming. He was a good swimmer, b
ut I was a better. I thoughtmyself for once certain to beat him, but an hour before the race Igot frightful cramps, a thing that I never had before or since, andI could hardly make a fight at all. I thought at the time, and Ihave thought since, that I must have taken something at breakfastthat disagreed with me horribly, and that he somehow put it in mytea.

  "Then again in that matter of the Sculls at Henley. I never felt myboat row so heavily as it did then. When it was taken out of thewater it was found that a piece of curved iron hoop was fixed tothe bottom by a nail that had been pushed through the thin skin. Itcertainly was not there when it was on the rack, but it was therewhen I rowed back to the boathouse, and it could only have gotthere by being put on as the boat was being lowered into the water.There were three or four men helping to lower her down--two of themfriends of mine, two of them fellows employed at the boathouse.While it lay in the water, before I got in and took my place,anyone stooping over it might unobserved have passed his hand underit and have pushed the nail through.

  "I never said anything about it. I had been beaten; there was nouse making a row and a scandal over it, especially as I had not ashadow of proof against anyone; but I was certain that he was notso fast as I was, for during practice my time had been as nearly aspossible the same as that of the man who beat him with the greatestease, and I am convinced that for once I should have got the betterof him had it not been for foul play."

  "That was shameful, Captain Mallett," Bertha said, indignantly. "Iwonder you did not take some steps to expose him."

  "I had nothing to go upon, Bertha. It was a case of suspicion only,and you have no idea what a horrible row there would have been if Ihad said anything about it. Committees would have sat upon it, andthe thing would have got into the papers. Fellows would have takensides, and I should have been blackguarded by one party for hintingthat a well-known University man had been guilty of foul practices.

  "Altogether it would have been a horrible nuisance; it was muchbetter to keep quiet and say nothing about it."

  "I am sure I could not have done that, Captain."

  "No, but then you see women are much more impetuous than men. I amcertain that after you had once set the ball rolling, you wouldhave been sorry that you had not bided your time and waited foranother contest in which you might have turned the tables fairlyand squarely."

  "He must be hateful," the girl said.

  "He is not considered hateful, I can assure you. He conceived agrudge against me, and has taken immense pains to pay me out, and Ionly trust that our paths will never cross again. If so, I have nodoubt that I shall again get the worst of it. At any rate, you seeI was not without justification when I said that though I did notbelieve in the Mal Occhio, I had reason for having some littlesuperstition about it."

  "I prophesy, Captain Mallett, that if ever you meet him in thefuture you will turn the tables on him. Such a man as that cannever win in the long run."

  "Well, I hope that your prophecy will come true. At any rate Ishall try, and I hope that your good wishes will counterbalance hispower, and that you will be a sort of Mascotte."

  "How tiresome!" the girl broke off, as there was a movement amongthe ladies. "It is time for us to go up to dress for dinner, andthough I shan't take half the time that some of them will do, Isuppose I must go."

  Captain Mallett had six months previously succeeded, at the deathof his father, to an estate five miles from that of Sir JohnGreendale. His elder brother had been killed in the hunting field afew months before, and Frank Mallett, who was fond of hisprofession, and had never looked for anything beyond it save ayounger son's portion, had thus come in for a very fine estate.

  Two months after his father's death he most reluctantly sent in hispapers, considering it his duty to settle down on the estate; butten days later came the news of the outbreak of the Sepoys ofBarrackpoor, and he at once telegraphed to the War Office, askingto be allowed to cancel his application for leave to sell out.

  So far the cloud was a very small one, but rumours of trouble hadbeen current for some little time, and the affair at least gave himan excuse for delaying his retirement.

  Very rapidly the little cloud spread until it overshadowed Indiafrom Calcutta to the Afghan frontier. His regiment stood somedistance down on the rota for Indian service, but as the news grewworse regiment after regiment was hurried off, and it now stoodvery near the head of the list. All leave had not yet been stopped,but officers away were ordered to leave addresses, so that theycould be summoned to join at an hour's notice.

  When he had left home that morning for a day's shooting with Sir John,he had ordered a horse to be kept saddled, so that if a telegram cameit could be brought to him without a moment's delay. He was burning tobe off. There had at first been keen disappointment in the regimentthat they were not likely to take part in the fierce struggle; but thefeeling had changed into one of eager expectation, when, as the contestwidened and it was evident that it would be necessary to make thegreatest efforts to save India, the prospect of their employment in thework grew.

  For the last fortnight expectation had been at its height. Ordershad been received for the regiment to hold itself in readiness forembarkation, men had been called back from furlough, the heavybaggage had been packed; and all was ready for a start attwenty-four hours' notice. Many of the officers obtained a fewdays' leave to say goodbye to their friends or settle businessmatters, and Frank Mallett was among them.

  "So I suppose you may go at any moment, Mallett?" said the host atthe dinner table that evening.

  "Yes, Sir John, my shooting today has been execrable; for I haveknown that at any moment my fellow might ride up with the order forme to return at once, and we are all in such a fever of impatience,that I am surprised I brought down a bird at all."

  "You can hardly hope to be in time either for the siege of Delhi orfor the relief of Lucknow, Mallett."

  "One would think not, but there is no saying. You see, our news isa month old; Havelock had been obliged to fall back on Cawnpore,and a perfect army of rebels were in Delhi. Of course, thereinforcements will soon be arriving, and I don't think it likelythat we shall get up there in time to share in those affairs; buteven if we are late both for Lucknow and Delhi, there will beplenty for us to do. What with the Sepoy army and with the nativechiefs that have joined them, and the fighting men of Oude and onething and another, there cannot be less than 200,000 men in armsagainst us; and even if we do take Delhi and relieve Lucknow, thatis only the beginning of the work. The scoundrels are fighting withhalters round their necks, and I have no fear of our missing ourshare of the work of winning back India and punishing thesebloodthirsty scoundrels."

  "It is a terrible time," Sir John said; "and old as I am, I shouldlike to be out there to lend a hand in avenging this awful businessat Cawnpore, and the cold-blooded massacres at other places."

  "I think that there will be no lack of volunteers, Sir John. IfGovernment were to call for them I believe that 100,000 men couldbe raised in a week."

  "Ay, in twenty-four hours; there is scarce a man in England butwould give five years of his life to take a share in the punishmentof the faithless monsters. There was no lack of national feeling inthe Crimean War; but it was as nothing to that which has beenexcited by these massacres. Had it been a simple mutiny among thetroops we should all be well content to leave the matter in thehands of our soldiers; but it is a personal matter to everyone;rich and poor are alike moved by a burning desire to take part inthe work of vengeance. I should doubt if the country has ever beenso stirred from its earliest history."

  "Yes, I fancy we are all envying you, Mallett," one of the othergentlemen said. "Partridge shooting is tame work in comparison withthat which is going on in India. It was lucky for you that thatfirst mutiny took place when it did, for had it been a week lateryou would probably have been gazetted out before the news came."

  "Yes, that was a piece of luck, certainly, Ashurst. I don't knowhow I should be feeling if I had been out of it and the regiment
onthe point of starting for India."

  "I suppose you are likely to embark from Plymouth," said Sir John.

  "I should think so, but there is no saying. I hardly fancy that weshould go through France, as some of the regiments have done; therewould be no very great gain of time, especially if we start as farwest as Plymouth. Besides, I have not heard of any transports beingsent round to Marseilles lately. Of course, in any case we shallhave to land at Alexandria and cross the desert to Suez. I shouldfancy, now that the advantages of that route have been shown, thattroops in future will always be taken that way. You see, it is onlyfive weeks to India instead of five months. The situation is badenough as it is, but it would have been infinitely worse if noreinforcements could have got out from England in less than fivemonths."

  "Is there anything that I can do for you while you are away,Mallett?" Sir John Greendale asked, as they lingered for a momentafter the other gentlemen had gone off to join the ladies.

  "Nothing that I know of, thank you. Norton will see that everythinggoes on as usual. My father never interfered with him in thegeneral management of the estate, and had the greatest confidencein him. I have known him since I was a child, and have always likedhim, so I can go away assured that things will go on as usual. If Igo down, the estate goes, as you know, to a distant cousin whom Ihave never seen.

  "As to other matters, I have but little to arrange. I have made awill, so that I shall have nothing to trouble me on that score.Tranton came over with it this morning from Stroud, and I signedit."

  "That is right, lad; we all hope most sincerely that there will beno occasion for its provisions to be carried out, but it is alwaysbest that a man should get these things off his mind. Are you goingto say goodbye to us tonight?"

  "I shall do it as a precautionary measure, Sir John, but I expectthat when I get the summons I shall have time to drive over here.My horse will do the distance in five and twenty minutes, andunless a telegram comes within an hour of the night mail passingthrough Stroud, I shall be able to manage it. I saw everythingpacked up before I left, and my man will see that everything,except the portmanteau with the things I shall want on the voyage,goes on with the regimental baggage."

  A quarter of an hour later Captain Mallett mounted his dog cart anddrove home. The next morning he received a letter from theAdjutant, saying that he expected the order some time during thenext day.

  "We are to embark at Plymouth, and I had a telegram this morningsaying that the transport had arrived and had taken her coal onboard. Of course they will get the news at the War Office today,and will probably wire at once. I think we shall most likely leavehere by a train early the next morning. I shall, of course,telegraph as soon as the order comes, but as I know that you haveeverything ready, you will be in plenty of time if you come on bythe night mail."

  At eleven o'clock a mounted messenger from Stroud brought on thetelegram:

  "We entrain at six tomorrow morning. Join immediately."

  This was but a formal notification, and he resolved to go on by thenight mail. He spent the day in driving round the estate and sayinggoodbye to his tenants. He lunched at the house of one of theleading farmers, where as a boy he had been always made heartilywelcome. Before mounting his dog cart, he stood for a few minuteschatting with Martha, his host's pretty daughter.

  "You are not looking yourself, Martha," he said. "You must pick upyour roses again before I come back. I shall leave the army then,and give a big dinner to my tenants, with a dance afterwards, and Ishall open the ball with you, and expect you to look your best.

  "Who is this?" he asked, as a young fellow came round the corner ofthe house, and on seeing them, turned abruptly, and walked off.

  "It is George Lechmere, is it not?"

  A flash of colour came into the girl's face.

  "Ah, I see," he laughed; "he thought I was flirting with you, andhas gone off jealous. Well, you will have no difficulty in makingyour peace with him tomorrow.

  "Goodbye, child, I must be going. I have a long round to make."

  He jumped into the dog cart and drove away, while the girl wentquietly back into the house.

  Her father looked up at the clock.

  "Two o'clock," he said; "I must be going. I expected GeorgeLechmere over here. He was coming to talk with me about hisfather's twelve-acre meadow. I want it badly this winter, for Ihave had more land under the plough than usual this year. I musteither get some pasture or sell off some of my stock."

  "George Lechmere came, father," Martha said, with an angry toss ofher head, "but when he saw me talking to Captain Mallett he turnedand went off; just as if I was not to open my lips to any man buthimself."

  The farmer would have spoken, but his wife shook her head at him.George Lechmere had been at one time engaged to Martha, but hisjealousy had caused so many quarrels that the engagement had beenbroken off. He still came often to the house, however, and herparents hoped that it would be renewed; for the young fellow'scharacter stood high. He was his father's right hand, and wouldnaturally succeed him to the farm. His parents, too, had heartilyapproved of the match. So far, however, the prospect of the youngpeople coming together was not encouraging. Martha was somewhatgiven to flirtation. George was as jealous as ever, and was unableto conceal his feelings, which, as he had now no right to criticiseher conduct, so angered the girl that she not unfrequently gaveencouragement to others solely to show her indifference to hisopinions.

  George Lechmere had indeed gone away with anger in his heart. Heknew that Captain Mallett was on the point of leaving with hisregiment for India, and yet to see him chatting familiarly withMartha excited in him a passionate feeling of grievance againsther.

  "It matters nought who it is," he muttered to himself. "She is everready to carry on with anyone, while she can hardly give me a civilword when I call. I know that if we were to marry it would be justthe same thing, and that I am a fool to stop here and let it vexme. It would be better for me to get right out of it. John is oldenough to take my place on the farm. Some of these days I will takethe Queen's shilling. If I were once away I should not be alwaysthinking of her. I know I am a fool to let a girl trouble me so,but I can't help it. If I stay here I know that I shall do mischiefeither to her or to someone else. I felt like doing it last monthwhen she was over at that business at Squire Carthew's--he is justsuch another one as Captain Mallett, only he is a bad landlord,while ours is a good one. What made him think of asking all his owntenantry, and a good many of us round, and getting up a cricketmatch and a dance on the grass is more than I can say. He never didsuch a thing before in all the ten years since he became masterthere. They all noticed how he carried on with Martha, and how sheseemed to like it. It was the talk of everyone there. If I had notgone away I should have made a fool of myself, though I have noright to interfere with her, and her father and mother were thereand seemed in no way put out.

  "I will go away and have a look at that lot of young cattle Ibought the other day. I don't know that I ever saw a more likelylot."

  It was dark when George returned. On his way home he took a paththat passed near the house whence he had turned away so angrily afew hours before. It was not the nearest way, but somehow he alwaystook it, even at hours when there was no chance of his getting themost distant sight of Martha.

  Presently he stopped suddenly, for from behind the wall thatbounded the kitchen garden of the farm he heard voices. A man wasspeaking.

  "You must make your choice at once, darling, for as I have told youI am off tomorrow. We will be married as soon as we get there, andyou know you cannot stop here."

  "I know I can't," Martha's voice replied, "but how can I leave?"

  "They will forgive you when you come back a lady," he said. "Itwill be a year at least before I return, and--"

  George could restrain himself no longer. A furious exclamationbroke from his lips, and he made a desperate attempt to climb thewall, which was, however, too high. When, after two or threeunsuccessful attempts, he paused for a mome
nt, all was silent inthe garden.

  "I will tackle her tomorrow," he said grimly, "and him, too. But Idare not go in now. Bennett has always been a good friend to me,and so has his wife, and it would half kill them were they to knowwhat I have heard; but as for her and that villain--"

  George's mouth closed in grim determination, and he strolled onhome through the darkness. Whatever his resolutions may have been,he found no opportunity of carrying them out, for the next morninghe heard that Martha Bennett had disappeared. How or why, no oneknew. She had been missing since tea time on the previousafternoon. She had taken nothing with her, and the farmer and histwo sons were searching all the neighbourhood for some sign of her.

  The police of Stroud came over in the afternoon, and took up theinvestigation. The general opinion was that she must have beenmurdered, and every pond was dragged, every ditch examined, for adistance round the farm. In the meantime George Lechmere held histongue.

  "It is better," he said to himself, "that her parents and friendsshould think her dead than know the truth."

  He seldom spoke to anyone, but went doggedly about his work. Hisfather and mother, knowing how passionately he had been attached toMartha, were not surprised at his strange demeanour, though theywondered that he took no part in the search for her.

  They had their trouble, too, for although they never breathed aword of their thoughts even to each other, there was, deep down intheir hearts, a fear that George knew something of the girl'sdisappearance. His intense jealousy had been a source of grief andtrouble to them. Previous to his engagement to Martha he had beeneverything they could have wished him. He had been the best ofsons, the steadiest of workers, and a general favourite from hiswillingness to oblige, his cheerfulness and good temper.

  His jealousy, as a child, had been a source of trouble. Any gift,any little treat, for his younger brothers, in which he had notfully shared, had been the occasion for a violent outburst oftemper, never exhibited by him at any other time, and this feelinghad again shown itself as soon as he had singled out Martha as theobject of his attentions.

  They had remarked a strangeness in his manner when he had returnedhome that night, and, remembering the past, each entertained asecret dread that there had been some more violent quarrel thanusual between him and Martha, and that in his mad passion he hadkilled her.

  It was, then, with a feeling almost of relief that a month afterher disappearance he briefly announced his intention of leaving thefarm and enlisting in the army. His mother looked in dumb misery ather husband, who only said gravely:

  "Well, lad, you are old enough to make your own choice. Things havechanged for you of late, and maybe it is as well that you shouldmake a change, too. You have been a good son, and I shall miss yousorely; but John is taking after you, and presently he will make upfor your loss."

  "I am sorry to go, father, but I feel that I cannot stay here."

  "If you feel that it is best that you should go, George, I shallsay no word to hinder you," and then his wife was sure that thefear she felt was shared by her husband.

  The next morning George came down in his Sunday clothes, carrying abundle. Few words were spoken at breakfast; when it was over he gotup and said:

  "Well, goodbye, father and mother, and you boys. I never thought toleave you like this, but things have gone against me, and I feel Ishall be best away.

  "John, I look to you to fill my place.

  "Good-bye all," and with a silent shake of the hand he took up hisbundle and stick and went out, leaving his brothers, who had notbeen told of his intentions, speechless with astonishment.