SHORT STORIES.

Otago Witness, Issue 3336, 20 February 1918, Page 58

SHORT STORIES.

"v By Frederic Martin.

REMuVfcD FROM THE ARMY.

(Copyvght.) i As Captain Guy Deane rode along at the head of his, troop of the White Hussars on a certain sunny J une morning Ve did not look at all like a man who was hard up. Rrom the plume base ol bis busby to the boss on his hessian bftots he was so liberally adorned with bullion that a pawnbroker .nding at his door “to see the soldiers pass” remarked to his assistant that one could lend quite a lot on the captain as he stood, without running even tbe very small '.mount of risk incidental to the business as usually carried on. If either of the three officers who rode at the head of the column were to be picked upon by an ordinary man as being impecunious, tire one to be selected would certainly have been the glum-faced subaltern who rode on Captain Deane’s right. Lieutenant Snowden looked like a man who has got a bill to meet on the morrow, and had no idea where the money was coming from: but his looks belied him, for he was by far the richest man in the regiment, and had known what it was to want money. Captain Deane, on the other hand, looked and acted as if he hadn’t a care in the world, although he was well aware that in default of a monetary miracle happening he must inevitably go to smash within a week at the outside. It was a good illustration of how people who judge solely by appearances are taken in, but it is not introduced here to point a moral, but rather to adorn the tale. “ What’s the matter with you this morning, Snowden?” asked the captain after a particularly lively story from the junior sub. on the captain’s left had failed to raise even a smile from the senior sub.; “you look as' if your dearest friend had died and left you nothing.” \ “ I was thinking about something I want to talk to you about later on,” said Snowden drily. “I’m of opinion that yon wouldn’t be in a laughing humour yourself if you knew what it is I have to say to you.” “ My dear boy, I am a good guesser, and will save, you the trouble,” said the captain nonchalantly. “You want to tell me that you have had a reminder from old Lewis that the bill you backed for me falls due next week. Well, if Good Luck wins the Royal Hunt Cup next-Wednes-day the bill will be met. If. on the otherhand, something else wins, I -.hall have to get you to let me ask Lewis to renew. There won’t be much difficulty, I imagine, as your name makes a bill--as good as a bank-note.” Lieutenant Snowden remained silent, and appeared to be much embarrassed. “Haven’t I hit the bull’s-eye?” asked the captain after an awkward pause. “ Hadn’t • Lestrange better ride down the troop to see that all’s correct,” said Snowden with a meaning look in the direction of the junior sub. ” Oh, Lestrange has flown a kite or two himself, and I haven’t the least objection to his hearing what you have to say,” laughed Captain Deane.' “I think I’d rather tell you privately,” said " Snowden. “You don t. . mind, Lestrange?” “On the contrary, I’d rather go,” said the junior sub. “I’ll ride in rear until we reach the ground, with your permis- . sion, sir.” Captain Deane nodded assent, and Lestrange reined up his horse and waited until the troop passed. Captain Deane and Lieutenant Snowden rode side by side in silence for a minute or two, the captain looking inquiringly at the subaltern, who seemed to firid it hard te> speak. _ . “Well?” asked the captain at last. “ I did get letter from Lewis this morning,” said Snowden in a low tone, ‘ 4 and all I have to say is that if he has a bill hearing my name the signature is a forgery. I remember perfectly that you once asked me to back a bill for you, but I certainly did not do it. It was in the early hours (following a rather festive guest night, and I can quite believe that I might have consented, though I did not remember having done so -next morning. I could call to mind your asking me, and it is strange that I should forget that I consented—if I did so. But whether I consented at night or not does not matter. It is certain that I refused to sign the hill when you brought it to mv house next morning.” “ My dear chap, what are you talking about?” said the captain in amazed tones. “ You were ill, and in bed, if you remember, when 1 brought the bill to your house, and you sent down word that you couldn’t see me; but your wife took the bill un to you and brought it back signed.” ,-“I never signed it. I refused to see you because I didn’t want to sign it, and I told my wife to tell you that I wouldn’t sign it.” Captain Deane looked searchingly at the disturbed face of his subaltern _ for a moment, as if he was too surprised to speak. “ I think you had better ask your wife about the matter before vou say anything more,” he said drily. “ She will be able to convince you that you signed the bill, no doubt.” “ I will ask her. of course.” replied Snowden; “but I am perfectly certain that I did not sign it. If you care to como over to my house with me after this review is over T will ask her in your presence.” “Very well,” replied the captain soldly, ‘‘and in the meantime we had Tiettor dron the subject.” Then, turning in his saddle, he gave the trumpeter the order to sound the “Trot,” being afraid that the other troops

of the regiment, who had gone by different routes to the racecourse where the review was to be held, would be on the ground before him. The inspecting general was not particularly phased with the handling of "G" troop of the White Hussars that day. He told* the colonel in irate tones that the officers of that usually smart troop did not appear to know what they were doing, and he was nearer the mark'' than inspecting generals usually are. It was Jate afternoon before Captain Deane and Lieutenant Snowden arrived at the hitter's house. Mrs Snowden was alone in the drawing room, and her husband told her what was required of her without any circumlocution whatever. Yes, she remembered Captain Deane calling with the bill quite well. Her mind was clear, too, about what happened when she took the bill to her husband. He positively refused to sign it, and, after spending some time in trying to persuade him to oblige her old friend Captain Deane, she had at last taken the bill back to the captain—unsigned. She spoke in an easy, natural _ tone, almost as if she were merely trying to fix the date of Captain Deane dropping in to have a cup of tea. A casual observer would have said that she was answering her husband's question, just like a woman who attached no importance whatever to the question might be expected to do. Captain Deane seemed to be 'stricken dumb with astonishment. He simply stared at Mrs Snowden as if he couldn't believe his ears. () "That seems to be conclusive, Deane, said Snowden coldly when his wife had finished. " There is nothing left for me to do but to write to Lewis and disown the bill." "Mrs Snowden must have—er—forgotten," said Deane dully. "She certainly brought the signed bill here to me, in this very room." "I'm afraid that you'll have to tell that tale elsewhere," said Snowden coldly. " You can't expect me to believe it in face of my wife's denial and of my own certain knowledge that I refused to sign the bill. The only alternative to believing my wife is to believe that she herself forged the signature between the time she left my bedroom and the time she came back to you." "Just so," said Captain Deane mechanically. "I must go to the colonel now, I suppose, and inform him that you accuse me of having forged your name." ( "I accuse no one." said Snowden. "I simply disown a liability I did not contract. Perhaps we had better see the colonel together." . . "As you please," replied Deane. "The matter cannot rest where it is, of course, even if I am able to find the money to retire the bill." '' I don't want to make a hiss about it," said Snowden earnestly. "If you can find the money the matter is at an end as far as I am concerned." Mrs Snowden's expression changed as this conversation proceeded, as if she realised bit bv bit that the matter she had treated so lightly was a very serious matter indeed. Now, as Captain Deane shrugged his shoulders despairingly at the latest remark of Snowden's, she turned appealingly to her husband. "But you will lend Captain Deane the money, Jim, won't you?" she said. "Do it for my sake. You know he is an old friend of mine." "It is impossible," said Snowden shortly. "The amount happens to be two thousand pounds, and I cannot put my hands upon such a sum." If Lieutenant Snowden had had any idea of helping out Captain Deane, which he hadn't, that remark from his wife would have effectually turned him from his purpose/"" Did Mrs Snowden know, that? Perhaps she did. Captain Deane thought so, at any rate, a,nd he knew her very well indeed"; for when, not so very long ago, she was Miss Lottie De Luze of the variety stage, he ?was by way of being an extremely intimate friend of hers. Since her marriage to Lieutenant Snowden—or, rather, since her marriage to Lieutenant Snowden's thirty thousand a year, Captain Deane had insisted on keeping her at the same distance at which he kept, the wives of other brother officers, which didn't suit Mrs Snowden's ideas at all. The interview with the colonel resulted in that officer making the sensible, if irregular, suggestion that the matter had better stand over until the decision of the Royal Hunt Cup allowed Captain Deane to decide whether or no he could pay up and retire the bill. It is matter of common knowledge that Captain Deane's good thing came undone, Good Luck being beaten by a short head. Then Lieutenant Snowden wrote to the money-lender and disowned his supposed signature, and the money-lender, acting upon Captain Deane's indignant denial of having forged the signature, refused to accept Lieutenant Snowden's denial of his signature, and promptly brought an action for the amount of the bill. At the trial Captain Deane, who had consented to judgment as against himself as one of the signatories of the bill, gave evidence as to having received the signed bill from Mrs Snowden, and Mrs Snowden swore positively that the bill was unsigned when shs gave it to him. Several handwriting experts gave the usual contradictory evidence, which, lumped together, Avent to show that the signature on the bill might have been written by Lieutenant Snowden himself, by Mrs Snowden, or by Captein Deane. In the result the jury decided that the signature was not written by Lieutenant Snowden. and thero left it. Now, the money-lender prosecuted Captain Deane criminally for uttering a forged instrument, knowing it to be forged. The public expected some spicy details to come out in the course of this trial; but the public was disappointed. Captain Deane's counsel received strict instructions from his client that ho was not to crossexamine Mrs Snowden at all, and though the counsel remonstrated to tho extent

of throwing up his brief, the captain was not to be moved in his determination. "He would have nothing done that would injure her. in the eyes of her husband," he said. "Quixotic ass" was the mildest of the epithets sent to Captain Deane's address by the enraged counsel. An acquittal could hardly be expected in these circumstances, and Captain Deane was sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment in the second division, which goes to show that the judge didn't think him guilty of forging the bill, at any rate. When he had been in prison about a month he was sent for one day to attend the governor's levee in the chain-room of the " hall" where he was located. "I have been desired," said the governor in*formal tones, "to read to you this announcement in the London Gazette."" This is what the governor read : White Hussars.—Captain Guy Deane is removed from the army, his Majesty having no further occasion for his services. Guy Deane, prisoner No. B 2/63, was taken back to his cell, and told that he need not start again on the mailbag* he was sewing, as he would be going out to exercise in a few moments. The prisoner occupied those few moments of waiting by scribbling on his slate in an absent-minded sort of _way. When he had gone out to exercise a warder saw the slate lying on the shelf that served as a cell table, and picked it up to put it in its mathematically xjroper place for the governor's inspection. With the natural curiositv of a prison warder, he looked to see what the prisoner had been writing, and saw that the slate was covered with the sentence: " Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," written in lines like a copy-book text.