THE NORTH DEVONSHIRE GHOST STORY.

Press, Volume LI, Issue 8929, 20 October 1894, Page 3

THE NORTH DEVONSHIRE GHOST STORY.

By A. Loins Paul. The dinner went off brilliantly. We Jnoved on to the billiard-room, and began a game of pool, which was cheery enough, but I was looking forward to midnightwhen, according to custom, the cardMom would be thrown open, and we should set forth npon whist until any boar of the morning. The North Devonshire was famous in love, more famous In battle, but perhaps most famons of all for its whist. The night was cold, and, like the immortal Mrs Battle, I was looking forward to "a clean hearth, a dear fire, and the rigour of the game." To my intense astonishment, shortly before twelve o'clock struck the numerous

guests prepared to depart. A peep round the corner was sufficient for. mc to see that the card-room was in pitch darkness, and I was offered drinks with the effusiveness which men adopt towards a guest of /Whom they are only anxious to be rid. «ow I had ordered my dogcart for 2.30 *»VL t and although my *vce was, for a native, a fairly punctual man, I knew weU that it would be folly 1 a.m. before ***** worthy would turn up. My couaiuhe*t saw my little difficulty, and suggested' *& adjournment to hi* quarters, where, wer the pew and cheroots, I heard the Jj**nge story which explained why the North Devonshire never played whist on ChrUtmaa Ere. Thus spoke the Major: Towards the end of the year 1858 tht. North Devonshire, then known aa the J«Hh Foot, was ordered to a small station called Bhflpore, some thirty or more miles north-west of Lacknow. The country w *s stni in a disturbed state, and the ■Bheels, a tribe of disaffected aborigines, were supposed to be in force in the neighbourhood. The Anglo Indian of to-day knows the Bheele aa useful shikariea. They have been taken ia hand by a paternol Government, and are tamed. In . those times the popular definition was :— ■ A Bheel is a hairy man: Hβ will soras you, and leave yon in a dikoh. ey this i»ay yoa may know a Bheei. Like other aboriginal tribes, the Bheela iJf* BOmewllat out of hand during the Mutiny. They had laid waste aome l| Mohammedan villages, were more than R tntpected of some recent dacoitiea, and B ftenerally epsaking, wanted watching. p' Colonel Faulkner* the CO. of the 150 th,

had orders to that effect. The Bheels knew him of old, for at the outset of the Mutiny, when only a captain, he had been at Bhilpore with a detachment of the 150 th, and he had severely chastised them for an incipient insurrection. They knew him as "Falcon Sahib" (and the name was not ill-chosen); and when they heard that Falcon Sahib had become a commanding officer by the rapid promotion of those days, and was again in tbe district with wh«t was to them an army, it was with feelings of terror and thoughts of revenge.

Rumours reached the Colonel that the Bheels meant mischief to him personally but beyond warning the police at th* thana, on the road to Lucknow, a mile 1 from the cantonment, to challenge a) nocturnal passers-by, no special precautions were taken. The Colonel was a man of tried and conspicuous courage, but the most remarkable trait in his character was his punctilious observance of all that he undertook, however trifling, even in cases when (he non-ob«ervance would hare caused no annoyance nor inconvenience. This had not always been the case. Until he was about twentyfire yearn of age, Faulkner had been the most unreliable of men. Hβ broke engagements with the utmost callousness. If he undertook a matter of no great importance, it was nearly certain that the undertaking would not be fulfilled. If he accepted an invitation, he was sure to be late. Some years before the period of my story his- habits were rudely changed by a tragic occurrence which cannot her* be related at length. It is enough to say that, owing to some carelessness on his part, a shock was given to the mind of a favourite sister, which eventually resulted in her early death. The effect upon Faulkner was immediate. When his grief had subsided, his friends observed that his mode of life had completely changed. No longer careless, he had become scrupulous, and, to use a somewhat vulgar expression, Faulkner's word was as good as any other man's oath. On Christmas E-β Colonel Faulkner was seated at whist with Fraser, Collier, and Morley, all officers of tbe 150 th. They were playing chick points and a gold mohur on the rubber, as men did more often in days when the rupee was a rupee The Colonel and Morley were partners, and had won a fairly large sum. A rubber was just over, when the Colonel, at about half-past twelve, remembered that he must write a note to the General commanding at Lucknow, and seed it off by the mail-cart, which started from the post-office, nearly a mile from the cantonments, at one o'clock. It was a small matter, a Christmas greeting to an old chum, which Faulkner bad not omitted to send for the last five years, and Frase tried to persuade the Colonel not to break up the party. "No/ , said Faulkner, "I cannot stay, I must write the note. I will slip across to, the bungalow to do it, and my orderly can take ifc to the mail-cart. But I will come b&ck, if you like, to finish the night." " Yes, do," said Fraser. " Collier wants his revenge, and so do L" "Allright," said the Colonel; "I will be back by a quarter past one. I feel as if my luck had deserted mc, and thafe we shall be quits on Christmas Day. lam sorry for Morley, who is just having a run." " Don't mind mc," said Morley; "ruin I rather than bed at this time of night." Off went Faulkner to his bungalow, and the note was soon written. On calling his orderly, however, there was no answer; since no messenger was forthcoming, the Colonel decided to take the note himself, and he put on his cloak and started instantly. The nighc was very dark; the road was lonely. .The trio in the mess-room eat over brandy pawnee by one fire, and the hands of the clock crept slowly round. They grew drowsy towards one o'clock, for Morley, despite his boast, was in reality a fat, sleepy soul, and Fraser and Collier had been out all day together after snipe. When the clock struck they woke up! and, half unconsciously, all three gave a slight shiver. " Did you feel anything, Fraser ?' said Collier, looking at his companion. "I fancy that it turned very cold all of a sudden." "A passing draught, I suppose/ , said Fraser, turning towards Morley. "You lopk quite pale, too. Try some more brandy and water." " The Colonel takes a long time to write that note," said Morley in a sleepy voice. " I don't see why he should have broken up our party for a thing he might have done just as well to-morrow. Still, what he promises he will perform to the minute. Bub I say," he added, looking at the clock, " it will be a joke if he has fallen asleep at his bungalow, and forgets to come back to give you fellows your revenge."

The hand was close upon the quarter, and Morley turned round towards the door. The other men did the same, and as they turned they observed the Colonel seated at the table, quietly shuffling the cards. He was very pale, very stern, and his military cloak was fastened close to the throat. "Hulloa, Colonel," said Collier, "we were afraid you were going to fail us for once, and were just going off to bed." " Never," said Faulkner, and he pushed the cards towards Fraser, who cut for deal. The same shiver which the three men had felt at. one o'clock passed through them again. , There was a look in the Colonel's face and a tone in his voice which they had sever observed before, but lie was a reserved man, they were all a little in awe of him, and no one asked for an explanation. While he was dealing, Faulkner named his bets with Fraser and Collier, to which he agreed. If he and Mcrley lost the rubber, they would be square upon the evening's play.

They were not long about it, Faulkner and Morley held execrable cards, and in ten minutes a bumper had been lost and won. Not a word had been spoken round the table, but as the last card was played Faulkner exclaimed, in a voice which seemed to come from the shades themselves: " Now we are quits."

Again a cold shiver seemed to freeze tbe very marrow in the bones of the other three men. Morley lit a cheroot, the others turned to their tuoablers, and when they looked up again Colonel Faulkner had vanished. "Upon my werd," said Fraser, "the Colonel looked as if he had seen a ghost." "And you look much the same," said ...... The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a native policeman rushed breathlessly into the room, followed by the acutry, and fell at Morley's feet, crying out, "The Colonel Sahibi The Colonel Sahib ! n ■ ~,«,■„,... "Son of an owl," said Morley, "what do you want? The Colonel has just gone to bed. Are tbe Bheela rising tor what are you afraid of f '", . , " Sahib," said the man, recovering himself with dignity, "I fear nothing if I have your honour's favour, bat the Colonel Is lying dead at the thana, his throat cut by the Bheels.' As the dock was striking one, we heard a cry down the road, near the place where the mailcart is loaded. We hurried oue, and found the Colonel with this letter in his hand. Hβ had been shot -from behind wiLn an arrow, and his throat was then cut. H* was quite dead, and it is my misfortune to brine: you tbe eews. His body is in the thana, Sahib. Will you come and see Itf . a Colonel Faulkner had kept his word, even in death. "And now," concluded my cousin, "you understand why the North Devonshir* never play whiat upon Christmas Eve. It has been a long story. There is your dogcart, so I will say good-bye, and a merry Christmas to you and yours."— EngtUh lUustrattd M*gaMi*+