If he had been trapped， he was to be excused； for the womanfrom nowhere， in the dusty shoes and gray traveling dress， wasvery lovely， with black hair and great eyes full of tears. Shewas tall， with a fine figure， and her voice had a running sob init pitiful to hear. As soon as the Senior Subaltern stood up， shethrew her arms round his neck， and called him “my darling”
and said she could not bear waiting alone in England， and hisletters were so short and cold， and she was his to the end of theworld， and would he forgive her？ This did not sound quite likea lady’s way of speaking. It was too demonstrative.
Things seemed black indeed， and the Captains’ wives peeredunder their eyebrows at the Senior Subaltern， and the Colonel’sface set like the Day of Judgment framed in gray bristles， andno one spoke for a while.
Next the Colonel said， very shortly： “Well， sir？” and thewoman sobbed afresh. The Senior Subaltern was half chokedwith the arms round his neck， but he gasped out： “It’s ad—d lie！ I never had a wife in my life！” “Don’t swear，” saidthe Colonel. “Come into the Mess. We must sift this clearsomehow，” and he sighed to himself， for he believed in his“Shikarris，” did the Colonel.
We trooped into the anteroom， under the full lights， andthere we saw how beautiful the woman was. She stood upin the middle of us all， sometimes choking with crying， thenhard and proud， and then holding out her arms to the SeniorSubaltern. It was like the fourth act of a tragedy. She told ushow the Senior Subaltern had married her when he was Homeon leave eighteen months before； and she seemed to know allthat we knew， and more too， of his people and his past life. Hewas white and ashy gray， trying now and again to break intothe torrent of her words； and we， noting how lovely she wasand what a criminal he looked， esteemed him a beast of theworst kind. We felt sorry for him， though.
I shall never forget the indictment of the Senior Subaltern byhis wife. Nor will he. It was so sudden， rushing out of the dark，unannounced， into our dull lives. The Captains’ wives stoodback； but their eyes were alight， and you could see that theyhad already convicted and sentenced the Senior Subaltern. TheColonel seemed five years older. One Major was shading hiseyes with his hand and watching the woman from underneathit. Another was chewing his mustache and smiling quietlyas if he were witnessing a play. Full in the open space in thecenter， by the whist tables， the Senior Subaltern’s terrier washunting for fleas. I remember all this as clearly as though aphotograph were in my hand. I remember the look of horroron the Senior Subaltern’s face. It was rather like seeing aman hanged； but much more interesting. Finally， the womanwound up by saying that the Senior Subaltern carried a doubleF. M. in tattoo on his left shoulder. We all knew that， and toour innocent minds it seemed to clinch the matter. But one ofthe Bachelor Majors said very politely： “I presume that yourmarriage certificate would be more to the purpose？”
That roused the woman. She stood up and sneered at the SeniorSubaltern for a cur， and abused the Major and the Colonel andall the rest. Then she wept， and then she pulled a paper from herbreast， saying imperially： “Take that！ And let my husband—mylawfully wedded husband—read it aloud—if he dare！”
There was a hush， and the men looked into each other’s eyesas the Senior Subaltern came forward in a dazed and dizzyway， and took the paper. We were wondering， as we stared，whether there was anything against any one of us that mightturn up later on. The Senior Subaltern’s throat was dry； but， ashe ran his eye over the paper， he broke out into a hoarse cackleof relief， and said to the woman： “You young blackguard！”
But the woman had fled through a door， and on the paperwas written： “This is to certify that I， The Worm， have paidin full my debts to the Senior Subaltern， and， further， that theSenior Subaltern is my debtor， by agreement on the 23rd ofFebruary， as by the Mess attested， to the extent of one month’sCaptain’s pay， in the lawful currency of the India Empire.”
Then a deputation set off for The Worm’s quarters andfound him， betwixt and between， unlacing his stays， with thehat， wig， serge dress， etc.， on the bed. He came over as hewas， and the “Shikarris” shouted till the Gunners’ Mess sentover to know if they might have a share of the fun. I think wewere all， except the Colonel and the Senior Subaltern， a littledisappointed that the scandal had come to nothing. But that ishuman nature. There could be no two words about The Worm’sacting. It leaned as near to a nasty tragedy as anything this sideof a joke can. When most of the Subalterns sat upon him withsofa cushions to find out why he had not said that acting was hisstrong point， he answered very quietly： “I don’t think you everasked me. I used to act at Home with my sisters.” But no actingwith girls could account for The Worm’s display that night.
Personally， I think it was in bad taste. Besides being dangerous.
There is no sort of use in playing with fire， even for fun.
The “Shikarris” made him President of the RegimentalDramatic Club； and， when the Senior Subaltern paid up hisdebt， which he did at once， The Worm sank the money inscenery and dresses. He was a good Worm； and the “Shikarris”
are proud of him. The only drawback is that he has beenchristened “Mrs. Senior Subaltern”； and， as there are nowtwo Mrs. Senior Subalterns in the Station， this is sometimesconfusing to strangers.
Later on， I will tell you of a case something like this， butwith all the jest left out and nothing in it but real trouble.
