Chapter IV.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5760, 2 January 1897, Page 2

Chapter IV.

For some weeks he still lived on in the lonely, dismantled little home. Mrs Turnbull came in to help him when she could, and oftener than not returned to her own more cheerful hearth in a weeping state. Once she brought back a parcel •wrapped in newspaper, and broke out into loud sobs as she put it down upon the table. Her husband had now got into <work again, though with lower wages, and he was sitting at tea as she entered.

"If s that Lord Cathcart!" exclaimed Mrs Turnbull, undoing the paper. "He said, poor old gentleman, as he couldn't bear to have him sold up vrith the rest, being a general, and so brave and courageous, and all that, he says." Here Mrs Turnbull became temporarily incoherent. " We've settled it all," she sobbed, "He's going up to the infirmary at the House next week, and I'm a-going with him in the train and as far as the 'orrid, nasty old place. And as to Rover— why, he frets quite awful about that dog ! " ' "Well take the dog," said Mr Turnbull'gruffly, and blowing his nose very loud. • •

Now that the final decision was made, ex-Trooper Tempany had grown very silent, very patient and quiet. He seemed, excepting at rare intervals, to loso interest in everything. Two days before the day of departure came, when Mrs Turnbull, who had brought him a few luxuries for his tea, was sitting with him, he said suddenly — "I'd like your Elizabeth Ann to have them bead-mats. I niade 'em when we lay in York. And your Sarah can have fche tablecloth — there's an awful lot of work in it; and fche adjutant's lady she give me a bundle of scraps." Then he paused. *'And the medals — you'll keep 'em quito safe for me in case — in case I ever come out 7" He said the last words very slowly and with evident difficulty.

Rover seemed to understand. He jumped right up on his master's knee, and "began licking his face. Then at last the tears ran slowly down Mr Tempany's cheeks on to his white beard and Cardigan jacket. :"-I can't see how the poor old chap looks, Mrs Turnbull. I am getting terrible "blind, but I'll be bound he looks like crying' too, and making *a fool of himself."

Mrs Turnbull wiped her face with her apron.

" Lor ! I'm sure he might be a Christian, Sir Tempany, to see the way . he puts his head on his waistcoat and stares up at you, trying to make you understand 'im," she said, choking down her own emotion.

At last, on a cold, drizzling day, the hour of departure came. Mr Turnbull had lent the otd soldier his own warmer overcoat, and had said a sad good-bye and gone away, taking with him Rover, who had at first whimpered and cried, and made many objections. The old man kissed the glossy head of Ms faithful friend. " You'll never let him come to no harm, I know," he said solemnly. " And he won't fret after — after a bit. He didn't eat nothing for two days after we buried her though, and p'raps he won't now just at first, poor chap.'' " Well bring im up to ccc you, Mr Tempany, when we come," said the other man huskily, and wringing the ex-trooper's hand very hard. Then the two started on their melantholy journey. While they were in the

train they scarcely exchanged a vem.irlr, and after about twenty minutes' travelling they halted at a large station. Tho rain was coining on fast, and Ays Turnbull opened an alpaca umbrella and drew old Mr Tempany's arm within hers.

.Up a long street they walked, down another, up a third,' still mostly silent. As Sirs Turnbull afterwards expressed it, she felfc for all the world as if someone was " jftgging at her throat with a table-knife ;'* but she behaved with courage, and made a few desperate attempts to be'cheerl'ul. At the top of the slight hill which they were j now ascending stood a grim-looking building, surrounded by a high wall. Some hundred yards below ifc was a public-house, aud in "front of this inn a party of travelling musicians had grouped themselves. They consisted of two women — one unkempt, the other haggard — and threo men, one of whom thumped a loud accompaniment to the singing" on a, cracked piano. The tune was evidently popular, for in spite of the cold rain, a group of loafers and children had crowded round tho instrument. Tho hoarse and unmelodious voices of the itinerant, songsters resounded through the still atmosphere : — "O Tommy, Tommy Hatkins, ye're a good 'un, 'earfc unci 'aud, Ter a credit to yor callin' and to all ycr native land." Mrs Turnbull, always. red in tho face, grew a little more crimson, and drew in her breath. But her companion, whoso steps were slackening from fatigue, did not appear to notice the music. They drew still nearer to the tall iron gate which admitted visitors into the building at tho top of tho hill. "I wonder what old Rover's doing now ?" said Mr Tempany, thoughtfully. Mrs Turnbull felfc as if she must scream if this sort of thing went on much longer, but she answered with tolerable calmness, " Willie was a-going to tswe 'im for a long run up in the woods." Then she looked at the piano and the singers with a sort of fierce defiance. Had thoso travellers ' known that one of tho two figures slowly climbing the hill, with tho workhouse infirmary as his goal, was that of an old man who had . fought bravely, suffered patiently, and lived honestly, thny might, not, perhaps, have been very much moved. Anyhow, Mrs Turnbull felfc that she hated them with a bitter hatred. She and her companion had reached the gateway at last, and stood still for a few moments. Mr Tempany was panting heavily, while his hand that lay on the woman's arm shook a good deal. She rang the bell sharply, and a man dressed in uniform opened a side door.

From below tho voice? of tho singers came floating towards thorn. They and the visitors to the public-house seemed to be now in a state of extreme hilarity, for they went on shouting the chorus in tones that would havo been simply deafening at close quarters. They sang it three times over at least : —

Gord bless ysr, Tommy Hatlcins, 'ere'B tho country's loveto you I*

And with the sound of those cheerful and inspiring strains ringing in his ears, oxTrooper Tempany passed through tho workhouse gate.