The Isle of Devils Read Free Page B

to return to Peshawar, and I transferred myself into the wheeled chair as rapidly as my weakened state would allow. My heart thumped rapidly in my breast as the orderly wheeled me out to the verandah, but this agitated patter stopped abruptly when instead of Violet’s petite form, a short man with a frame of white hair confronted me. Two keen brown eyes peered out at me from under tufted white eyebrows, and he was heavily mustached. He was on the long side of fifty, but despite his advancing years, he retained a powerful stature, which lent him an aura of command. The crown above two stars upon his scarlet coat with white facings proclaimed him a Colonel.
     
    “By Jove, Doctor, you look like a man in need of a side of roast,” said the man frankly. 
     
    My brain was clearly still recovering from its recent bout, as it took me many a long moment before I finally recognized him. “Colonel Hayter! What brings you to Peshawar?” I cried. I was singularly pleased to see that fine old solider in front of me.
     
    “The Berkshires were passing through and I thought I would check to make sure that none of our men were languishing at the base hospital. Imagine my surprise when they told me that you were still here. Why on earth should an old campaigner such as you not have recovered from those Jezail bullets by now?”
     
    His words brought a spasm of pain to my first wound, and I half-consciously rubbed my left shoulder, which I to this day continue to hold in a stiff and unnatural manner. “The Jezails have little to trumpet, Colonel. It is this damned enteric fever.”
     
    Edward Hayter snorted in disgust. “Ah, I suspected as much. It’s clear as day that you will never recover in these pestilential airs.” He turned and gazed out over the valley, every aspect of its flora and dwellings still exotically foreign to my English eyes. “However, I still recall when you plucked that bullet out of my leg and sewed me together so well that I was back on the march within a week. I was not able to show my gratitude at that time, but the moment has come for me to repay my debts. I have arranged for you to recover in more healthy climes. Not a day longer should be lost. Tomorrow morning, you will be transported via d â k gharrie to the port at Karachi, where the troopship Serapis will convey you to the Cape. I hope that the sea airs will effect the healing these mountain airs were incapable of.”
     
    “I am astounded by this, Colonel, and surely unworthy.”
     
    “Pshaw, Doctor,” he answered warmly, turning back to me. “You are a good man and it has been a great privilege to have served with you, for no matter how short a time. I confess that we hate to lose you. But the Queen’s Rules are clear. Two bullets are enough for one man. The medical board has ruled that you have done your duty and you will be most honorably invalided out of the army. You will have nine months of half-pay, during which time you can regain your health before taking up a new position.”
     
    “Thank you, Colonel Hayter,” said I with emotion.
     
    “I’m not finished, Doctor,” said the Colonel. “Since your handiwork was so effective, I have no further use of this Penang-lawyer that I picked up during my time in Malaysia, and then decorated while at Benares. May it serve you well in your recovery.” He handed me a fine, thick wooden walking stick, its iron ferule only slightly worn. It had a large lead-weighted irregular bulbous head, intricately inlaid with what appeared to be gold filigree-work.
     
    I was overwhelmed by his generosity. “You are too kind, Colonel. Surely you should keep it.”
     
    “On the contrary, Doctor. My little collection of Eastern weapons is complete enough without that stick. And I do not plan to be shot again. I wish you good fortunes upon your return to London.”
     
    “And you, Colonel? Where are you headed?”
     
    “Wherever the Queen needs us, I expect. It is a good way to see the world that