“Fine, healthy-looking man he was, but he had the regular savage Malay look in his eyes; but I gained courage directly I saw what was the matter. There was one great double tooth which was evidently the cause of all the trouble, and I knew at once that he would have no peace till it was drawn. There was a position for a medical man! And I could not help feeling that I was quite at his mercy. I went to a drawer and took out an instrument, and as I approached him he glared at me more savagely than ever, and laid his right hand once more upon the ugly, pistol-like hilt of his kris. Now, sir, what would you have done under the circumstances?”
“Bolted,” said Archie laconically.
“I don’t believe you,” said Minnie.
“What! and left two defenceless women at his mercy, sir? That won’t do; will it, Mary, my dear?”
“Well, then,” said Archie, “I should have called in old Sergeant Ripsy and a couple more men to hold him. Or why didn’t you give him a dose of something to send him to sleep? But I know. You got tight hold of the tooth and tugged it out.”
“How are you going to get tight hold of a savage’s tooth when you can see him ready to pull out his kris, and your hands are trembling like banana-leaves in a storm?”
“Well, I should have asked him to give me the kris to put away in case of accidents,” said Archie merrily.
“Ask a Malay to give you his head to put away in case of accidents!” cried the Doctor sarcastically. “No, sir; I took my courage in both hands and approached him.”
“Why, you were holding the instrument in one hand, sir,” said Archie merrily; and Minnie laughed.
“Ah, you are getting too sharp, sir,” cried the Doctor. “But I can tell you it was nervous work, and for a few minutes I felt sure that if I operated on him he would operate on me; and if I had thought of it at the time, I think I should have called in my wife to stand sentry with a revolver.”
“Oh dear me!” sighed Mrs. Morley, as she drew some work out of her handbag.
“Well,” continued the Doctor, “I got a good hold of the tooth at last, gave a wrench—”
“And out came the tooth,” said Archie quickly.
“No, it didn’t, sir; and as I stood over the man, looking down into his fierce eyes, he snatched his hand from his waist, and I turned cold, for I felt it was all over, when in an instant up came the other hand, and both of them closed over my wrist, giving me such a wrench that it quite startled me; and it was then that the tooth came out.”
“And the toothache was cured, sir?” cried Archie.
“Minnie, my dear,” said Mrs. Morley quietly, “do you notice any difference in that story since your uncle told it last?”
“Yes, aunt; it is much more flowery than it used to be.”
“Flowery!” growled the Doctor. “Why, Archie, my lad, that story is as true as true. Indeed, I should have been able to show you the great tooth as a proof, only the man took it away. He was one of my first patients when I came here; and I never had any fee.”
“For shame, Henry! The man is always bringing you fruit or fish. I am sure that he would do anything for you.”
“Well, yes,” said the Doctor, “he has been grateful in his way; but I never feel sure that those fellows will not make use of their krises.”
Chapter Five.
The Officers’ Washing.
“Oh, here you are, Mrs. Smithers. Aunt was saying just now that she wondered you had not been up. I told her perhaps it was on account of the hot weather, for it has been terribly trying.”
“Oh, bless your heart, Miss Minnie!” said the tall, sturdy, buxom-looking woman who had just set down a big basket in the veranda, “the weather doesn’t make no difference to me. Whether it’s hot or whether it’s cold, I have got to get my bit of washing done; though I am a bit tried when it comes to that mounsoon, or mounseer, or whatever they call it, when it’s such strange, hard work to get the things dry. But even then it ain’t fair to complain, for the soft water’s lovely, and plenty of it. But I am late again this week, and it has been very hard work to get the officers washed. ’Tain’t half-an-hour since I took young Mr. Maine’s home to his quarters. I hope your aunt ain’t cross with me.”
“Oh no, she’s not angry. She knew there must be some good reason. We were half-afraid you were ill.”
“Not me, Miss Minnie! I’ve never no time to be ill; and if I had been, no matter how bad I was I should have been up here to the Doctor for one of his exhibitions, as he calls them. I’ve brought his white suit, miss, and it looks lovely. Shall I show it you?”
“I know how it will be, Mrs. Smithers,” said Minnie, smiling. “I am glad there has been nothing wrong.”
“Oh, don’t you be glad, miss. It’s sorry I am.”
“Why, what’s the trouble?”
“Trouble, miss? Oh, my master again. He will never be happy till he is having the Rogues’ March played over him, and the buttons that I keep sewed on tighter than those of any man in his company cut off his beautiful uniform, and him drummed out as a disgrace to the regiment.”
“Dear, dear!” said Minnie. “I am very sorry, Mrs. Smithers.”
“Yes; I knowed you would be, my dear, if you will forgive me for calling you so. You see, I have known you so long as such a dear, sweet young lady, with no more pride in you than there is in one of our Jenny-wrens at home.”
“But what is the matter, Mrs. Smithers?” said Minnie hastily, in an effort to change the flow of the bronzed, burly woman’s words into another direction.
“You needn’t ask, my dear. The old thing.”
“What! surely not drinking again? I thought he had taken the pledge, and that Sergeant Ripsy had promised you that he would keep a sharp eye over your husband.”
“Oh yes, miss, that’s all right; and he daren’t go to the canteen, for they wouldn’t admit him. But what’s the use of that when he can manage to get some of that nasty rack, as they call it, from the first Malay fellow he meets? I’d like to rack ’em!”
“It’s such a pity,” said Minnie. “Such a good soldier as he is, too. I’ve heard Mr. Maine say that there isn’t a smarter-looking man in his company; and my uncle praises him too.”
“Praises him, my dear!” said the woman, looking at the speaker round-eyed. “Praises him! A-mussy me, what for?”
“He says he’s such a fine-looking man.”
“Fine-looking? Oh yes, he’s fine-looking enough,” said the woman scornfully.
“And that he is so strong and manly and hearty, and that he never wants to come on the sick-list.”
“Sick-list! No, my dear, he dursen’t. He knows only too well that your dear uncle would know at once what was the matter with him.”
“But he’s such a smart-looking fellow—so clean, Mr. Maine says, that he is quite a pattern to the others when he comes on parade.”
“Oh yes, that’s all right, my dear; but who makes him smart? Who cleans his buttons and buckles, and pipeclays him, but his poor wife? Why, many’s the time I have had to flannel his face and hands before he went on parade.”
“Well, well,” said Minnie compassionately, “let’s hope he will improve.”