The Helena independent. [volume] (Helena, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1891-04-29

you VIII nave to drop your leave anu Ke
back to Girdhauri. You sac keyte's dead,
and-and we have no ono else to send ex-
cept Yourself. The POSTERS u very short
one this season, md you look much better
than when you came nj. OF course III &c
all | can to spare you, hut Tn ~afraid-fm
very much afraid-that you will have to 60
down."
The government. on the other hand, was
not in the least afraid. 1t was quite certain
that Hayden must go down. He was IN
moderately good health, had enjoyed nearly
q months holiday, and the needs OF the
state were ulgent. Let him., they said, re-
turn to his work at Girdhauri. He must
forego his leave, but some time, in the
years to come, the government might repay
him the lost months. If it were not too
short-handed. In the meantime lie would
return to duty.
The assistants in tho hara-kiri of japan
are all intimate friends of the man who
must die. They like him immensely, and
they bring him the news Of his doom with
polite sorrow. But no must die, for that Ia
required of him..
Hamerton would have spared Hayden had
it been possible. but. indeed. he was the
healthiest man in the ranks, and he knew
the district. You will GO down to-mor-
row." said Hamerton. ~ regular noti-
tication will appear in the Gazette later on.
We can't stand on forms this year
Hayden said nothing, because those who
govern India obey the law. He looked-it
was evenine--at the line OF the sun-fushed
SHOWS forty miles to the east, and the pal
pitating heat haze of the plains fifty miles
to the west, and his heart sank. He wished
to stay i'll Simla to continue his wooing. and
he knew too we'll the torments that were IN
store for him in Girdhauri. His nerve was
broken. The GOODNESS, the dances. the din
nors that were to come, the scent of the
Simla pines and the wood smoke, the cnnter
of horses feet on the crowded mall, turned
his heart to water. He could have wept
passiona.elv, like u little child, for his lost
holiday and his lost love, and like a little
child baked of its play. he became filled
with cheap spite hat can only hurt the
owner. The men at the club were sorry for
him, but he did not want to be con-
doled with. He was angry and afraid.
Though he recognized the necessity of the
injustice that had been done to him. he
conceived that it could all be put right by
vet another injustice. and then-and then
somebody else would have to do his work,
for he would DO out of it forever.
He reflected on this while he was hurry
ing down the hillsides, after a last inter
view with the pretty girl, to whom he had
said nothing that was no commonplace
him the more angry with himself, n the
spite and the rage increased. The air grew
warmer and warmer as the cart ratified
down the mountain road, till at last the
hot, stale stiffness of the plains closed over
his head like heated oil, and he gasped for
breath among the dry date-palms at Kalka.
Then came the long level ride into Umballa;
the stencil of dust which breeds despair;
the lime-washed walls of Umballa station,
hot to the hand though it was IL at night;
the greasy, rancid meal served by the sweat
ing servants; the badly trimmed lamps in
the oven-like waiting-room; and the whin-
ing of lnnumerabls mosquitoes. That
night, he remembered, there would be a
dance at Simla. He was a very weak man.
That night Hamerton sat at work till late
in the old Simla foreign Office, which was a
rambling collection of match boxes packed
away in a dark by-path under the pines.
One of the wandering storms that run be-
fore the regular breaking of the monsoon
had wrapped Slmla in white mist. The
rain was roaring on the shidgled. tin
patched roof, and the thunder rolled to and
fro among the hills as a ship rolls in the
seaways. Hamerton called for a lamp and
a fire to drive out the smell of mould and
forest underground that crept in from the
woods. The clerks and secretaries had left
the office two hours ago and there remained
only one hative orderly, who set the
lamp and went away. Hamerton returned
to his papers, and the voice of the rain rose
and fell. In the pauses he could catch the
crunching of 'rickshaw wheels and the clat-
ter of horses feet going to the dance at the
vlceroy's. These ceased at last, and the
rain with them. The thunder drew off,
mutterinR, toward the plains, and all the
dripping pine trees sighed with relief.
Orderly" said Hamerton. He fancied
that he heard somebody moving about the
rooms. There was no answer, except a
d%eep-drawn breath at the door. 1t might
come from a panther prowling about the
verandas in search of a pet dog, but pan
theirs generally snutfed in a deeper key.
This was a thick, gasping breath, as Of one
l. t.l t-a,, -,,, -. --.rli -- H.. -.
deadly pain. Hamerton listened again.
There certainly was somebody moving
about the foreign Office. He could hear
boards creaking in far-otf rooms, and I'M
certain steps on the rickety staircase.
Since the clock marked close upon mid
night, no one had a right to be in the Office.
Hamerton had picked up the lamp, and was
going to make a search, when the steps Il
the heavy breathing came to the door again
and stayed.
who's there?' said Hamerton. Come
in.''
Again the heavy breathing, and a thick,
short cough.
"Who relieves Haydon?'' said a voice out
side. Hayden! Haydon! Dying at Um-
balla. He can't go till he is relieved. Who
relieves Haydon?"
Hamerton dashed to tho door and opened
it, to find a stolid messenger from the tele-
graph Office. breathing through his nose,
L eb0 oAAA VI ACulNSSs Ii IDduu 6lu
out a telegram. 81 could not find the room
at first" he said. 'Is there an answer?'
The telegram was from the station mas
ter at Umballa. and said: "Englishman
killed; up mail ~; slipped from platform.
Dying. Hayden. Civilian. Inform gov
eminent"
There is no answer" said Hamerton:
and the man went away But the tiuttering
whisper at the door continued:
"haydon. Hayden! Who relieves Hav-
Hayden. Hayden. Dying at Umballa. For
PHYS sake. be guickr.'
Hamerton thought for a minute of the
pitifully short roster of men available, and
answered, quietly, Flint, of Degauri.n
Then, and not till then, did the hair begin
to rise on his head: and Hamerton, score
tary to government, neglecting the lamp
and the papers, went out very quickly from
the foreign Office into the cool, wet night,
His ears were tingling with the sound of a
dry deathrattle, and he was afraid to con-
tinue his work.
Now only the gods know by whose design
and intention Haydon had slipped from the
dlmly lighted Umbalia platform under the
wheels of the mail that was to take him
back to his district; but since they lifted
the pest1lence on his death, we NAV assume
that they had proved their authority over
the minds of men, and found one man in
ihoia who was afraid of present PAIN
Rudyard Kipling in Harper's Weekly.
Umbrellas, parasols and canes at The Bee
Hive. '