No More Learning

(Puts out her hands and begins playing piano on the sheet. )

Capt. G. (Catching up hands. ) Ahh! Don't do that, Pussy, if you love me.

VOICE. Love you? Of course I do. Who else should it be? (A pause. )

VOICE. (Very clearly. ) Pip, I'm going now. Something's choking me
cruelly. (Indistinctly. ) Into the dark--without you, my heart--But it's
a lie, dear--we mustn't believe it. --Forever and ever, living or dead.
Don't let me go, my husband--hold me tight. --They can't--whatever
happens. (A cough. ) Pip--my Pip! Not for always--and--so--soon! (Voice
ceases. )

Pause of ten minutes. G. buries his face in the side of the bed while
AYAH bends over bed from opposite side and feels Mrs. G. 's breast and
forehead.

Capt. G. (Rising. ) Doctor Sahib ko salaam do.

Ayah. (Still by bedside, with a shriek. ) Ail Ail Tuta-phuta! My
Memsahib! Not getting--not have got! --Pusseena agyal (The sweat has
come. ) (Fiercely to G. ) TUM jao Doctor Sahib ko jaldi! (You go to the
doctor. ) Oh, my Memsahib!

DOCTOR. (Entering hastily. ) Come away, Gadsby. (Bends over bed. ) Eh! The
Dev--What inspired you to stop the punkah? Get out, man--go away--wait
outside! Go! Here, Ayah! (Over his shoulder to G. ) Mind I promise
nothing.

The dawn breaks as G. stumbles into the garden.

Capt. M. (Rehung up at the gate on his way to parade and very soberly. )
Old man, how goes?

Capt. G. (Dazed. ) I don't quite know. Stay a bit. Have a drink or
something. Don't run away. You're just getting amusing. Ha! ha!

Capt. M. (Aside. ) What am I let in for? Gaddy has aged ten years in the
night.

Capt. G. (Slowly, fingering charger's headstall. ) Your curb's too loose.

Capt. M. So it is. Put it straight, will you? (Aside. ) I shall be late
for parade. Poor Gaddy.

Capt. G. links and unlinks curb-chain aimlessly, and finally stands
staring toward the veranda. The day brightens.

DOCTOR. (Knocked out of professional gravity, tramping across
flower-beds and shaking G's hands. ) It'-it's-it's! --Gadsby, there's
a fair chance--a dashed fair chance. The flicker, y'know. The sweat,
y'know I saw how it would be. The punkah, y'know. Deuced clever woman
that Ayah of yours. Stopped the punkah just at the right time. A dashed
good chance! No--you don't go in. We'll pull her through yet I promise
on my reputation--under Providence. Send a man with this note to Bingle.
Two heads better than one. 'Specially the Ayah! We'll pull her round.
(Retreats hastily to house. )

Capt. G. (His head on neck of M. 's charger. ) Jack! I bub-bu-believe, I'm
going to make a bu-bub-bloody exhibitiod of byself.

Capt. M. (Sniffing openly and feeling in his left cuff. ) I b-b-believe,
I'b doing it already. Old bad, what cad I say? I'b as pleased as--Cod
dab you, Gaddy! You're one big idiot and I'b adother. (Pulling himself
together. ) Sit tight! Here comes the Devil-dodger.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (Who is not in the Doctor's confidence. ) We--we are
only men in these things, Gadsby. I know that I can say nothing now to
help.

Capt. M. (jealously. ) Then don't say it Leave him alone. It's not bad
enough to croak over. Here, Gaddy, take the chit to Bingle and ride
hell-for-leather. It'll do you good. I can't go.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. Do him good! (Smiling. ) Give me the chit and I'll
drive. Let him lie down. Your horse is blocking my cart--please!

Capt. M. (Slowly without reining back. ) I beg your pardon--I'll
apologize. On paper if you like.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (Flicking M. 's charger. ) That'll do, thanks. Turn in,
Gadsby, and I'll bring Bingle back--ahem--"hell-for-leather. "

Capt. M. (Solus. ) It would have served me right if he'd cut me across
the face. He can drive too. I shouldn't care to go that pace in a bamboo
cart. What a faith he must have in his Maker--of harness! Come hup, you
brute! (Gallops off to parade, blowing his nose, as the sun rises. )

(INTERVAL OF FIVE WEEKS. )

Mrs. G. (Very white and pinched, in morning wrapper at breakfast table. )
How big and strange the room looks, and how glad I am to see it again!
What dust, though! I must talk to the servants. Sugar, Pip? I've almost
forgotten. (Seriously. ) Wasn't I very ill?

Capt. G. Iller than I liked. (Tenderly. ) Oh, you bad little Pussy, what
a start you gave me!

Mrs. G. I'll never do it again.

Capt. G. You'd better not. And now get those poor pale cheeks pink
again, or I shall be angry. Don't try to lift the urn. You'll upset it.
Wait. (Comes round to head of table and lifts urn. )

Mrs. G. (Quickly. ) Khitmatgar, howarchikhana see kettly lao. Butler, get
a kettle from the cook-house. (Drawing down G. 's face to her own. ) Pip
dear, I remember.

Capt. G. What?

Mrs. G.
That last terrible night.

CAPT. G. Then just you forget all about it.

Mrs. G. (Softly, her eyes filling. ) Never. It has brought us very close
together, my husband. There! (Interlude. ) I'm going to give Junda a
saree.

Capt. G. I gave her fifty dibs.

Mrs. G. So she told me. It was a 'normous reward. Was I worth it?
(Several interludes. ) Don't! Here's the khitmatgar. --Two lumps or one
Sir?




THE SWELLING OF JORDAN

If thou hast run with the footmen and they have wearied thee, then how
canst thou contend with horses? And if in the land of peace wherein thou
trustedst they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the swelling of
Jordan?

SCENE. The GADSBYS' bungalow in the Plains, on a January morning. Mrs. G.
arguing with bearer in back veranda.

Capt. M. rides up.

Capt. M. 'Mornin', Mrs. Gadsby. How's the Infant Phenomenon and the
Proud Proprietor?

Mrs. G. You'll find them in the front veranda; go through the house. I'm
Martha just now.

Capt. M, 'Cumbered about with cares of Khitmatgars? I fly.

Passes into front veranda, where GADSBV is watching GADSBY JUNIOR, aged
ten months, crawling about the matting.

Capt. M. What's the trouble, Gaddy-spoiling an honest man's Europe
morning this way? (Seeing G. JUNIOR. ) By Jove, that yearling's comin' on
amazingly! Any amount of bone below the knee there.

Capt. G. Yes, he's a healthy little scoundrel. Don't you think his
hair's growing?

Capt. M. Let's have a look. Hi! Hst Come here, General Luck, and we'll
report on you.

Mrs. G. (Within. ) What absurd name will you give him next? Why do you
call him that?

Capt. M. Isn't he our Inspector-General of Cavalry? Doesn't he come down
in his seventeen-two perambulator every morning the Pink Hussars parade?
Don't wriggle, Brigadier. Give us your private opinion on the way the
third squadron went past. 'Trifle ragged, weren't they?

Capt. G. A bigger set of tailors than the new draft I don't wish to see.
They've given me more than my fair share--knocking the squadron out of
shape. It's sickening!

Capt. M. When you're in command, you'll do better, young 'un. Can'tyou
walk yet? Grip my finger and try. (To G. ) 'Twon't hurt his hocks, will
it?

Capt. G. Oh, no. Don't let him flop, though, or he'll lick all the
blacking off your boots.

Mrs. G. (Within. ) Who's destroying my son's character?

Capt. M. And my Godson's. I'm ashamed of you, Gaddy. Punch your father
in the eye, Jack! Don't you stand it! Hit him again!

Capt. G. (Sotto voce. ) Put The Butcha down and come to the end of the
veranda. I'd rather the Wife didn't hear--just now.

Capt. M. You look awf'ly serious. Anything wrong?

Capt. G. 'Depends on your view entirely. I say, Jack, you won't think
more hardly of me than you can help, will you? Come further this
way. --The fact of the matter is, that I've made up my mind--at least I'm
thinking seriously of--cutting the Service.

Capt. M. Hwhatt?

Capt. G. Don't shout. I'm going to send in my papers.

Capt. M. You! Are you mad?

Capt. G. No--only married.

Capt. M. Look here! What's the meaning of it all? You never intend to
leave us. You can't. Isn't the best squadron of the best regiment of the
best cavalry in all the world good enough for you?

Capt. G. (Jerking his head over his shoulder. ) She doesn't seem to
thrive in this God-forsaken country, and there's The Butcha to be
considered and all that, you know.

Capt. M. Does she say that she doesn't like India?

Capt. G. That's the worst of it. She won't for fear of leaving me.

Capt. M. What are the Hills made for?

Capt. G. Not for my wife, at any rate.

Capt. M. You know too much, Gaddy, and--I don't like you any the better
for it!

Capt. G. Never mind that. She wants England, and The Butcha would be all
the better for it. I'm going to chuck. You don't understand.

Capt. M. (Hotly. ) I understand this! --One hundred and thirty-seven new
horse to be licked into shape somehow before Luck comes round again; a
hairy-heeled draft who'll give more trouble than the horses; a camp next
cold weather for a certainty; ourselves the first on the roster; the
Russian shindy ready to come to a head at five minutes' notice, and you,
the best of us all, backing out of it all! Think a little, Gaddy. You
won't do it.

Capt. G. Hang it, a man has some duties toward his family, I suppose.

Capt. M. I remember a man, though, who told me, the night after
Amdheran, when we were picketed under Jagai, and he'd left his sword--by
the way, did you ever pay Ranken for that sword? --in an Utmanzai's
head--that man told me that he'd stick by me and the Pinks as long as
he lived. I don't blame him for not sticking by me--I'm not much of a
man--but I do blame him for not sticking by the Pink Hussars.

Capt. G. (Uneasily. ) We were little more than boys then. Can't you see,
Jack, how things stand? 'Tisn't as if we were serving for our bread.
We've all of us, more or less, got the filthy lucre. I'm luckier than
some, perhaps. There's no call for me to serve on.

Capt. M. None in the world for you or for us, except the Regimental. If
you don't choose to answer to that, of course--

Capt. G. Don't be too hard on a man. You know that a lot of us only take
up the thing for a few years and then go back to Town and catch on with
the rest.

Capt. M. Not lots, and they aren't some of Us.

Capt. G. And then there are one's affairs at Home to be considered--my
place and the rents, and all that.