This eBook was produced by David Widger
By Gilbert Parker
His legs were like pipe-stems, his body was like a board, but he wasstraight enough, not unsoldierly, nor so bad to look at when his back wason you; but when he showed his face you had little pleasure in him. Itseemed made of brown putty, the nose was like india-rubber, and the eyeshad that dull, sullen look of a mongrel got of a fox-terrier and a bull-dog. Like this sort of mongrel also his eyes turned a brownish-red whenhe was excited.
You could always tell when something had gone wrong with Ibrahim theOrderly, by that curious dull glare in his eyes. Selamlik Pasha said toFielding that it was hashish; Fielding said it was a cross breed ofSoudanese and fellah. But little Dicky Donovan said it was somethingelse, and he kept his eye upon Ibrahim. And Dicky, with all his faults,could screw his way from the front of a thing to the back thereof like noother civilised man you ever knew. But he did not press his opinionsupon Fielding, who was an able administrator and a very clever fellowalso, with a genial habit of believing in people who served him: and thatis bad in the Orient.
As an orderly Ibrahim was like a clock: stiff in his gait as a pendulum,regular as a minute. He had no tongue for gossip either, so far asFielding knew. Also, five times a day he said his prayers—an unusualthing for a Gippy soldier-servant; for as the Gippy's rank increases hesoils his knees and puts his forehead in the dust with discretion. Thiswas another reason why Dicky suspected him.
It was supposed that Ibrahim could not speak a word of English;and he seemed so stupid, he looked so blank, when English was spoken,that Fielding had no doubt the English language was a Tablet of Abydos tohim. But Dicky was more wary, and waited. He could be very patient andsimple, and his delicate face seemed as innocent as a girl's when he saidto Ibrahim one morning: "Ibrahim, brother of scorpions, I'm going toteach you English!" and, squatting like a Turk on the deck of theAmenhotep, the stern-wheeled tub which Fielding called a steamer, hebegan to teach Ibrahim.
"Say 'Good-morning, kind sir,'" he drawled.
No tongue was ever so thick, no throat so guttural, as Ibrahim's when heobeyed this command. That was why suspicion grew the more in the mind ofDicky. But he made the Gippy say: "Good-morning, kind sir," over andover again. Now, it was a peculiar thing that Ibrahim's pronunciationgrew worse every time; which goes to show that a combination of Soudaneseand fellah doesn't make a really clever villain. Twice, three times,Dicky gave him other words and phrases to say, and practice made Ibrahimmore perfect in error.
Dicky suddenly enlarged the vocabulary thus: "An old man had three sons:one was a thief, another a rogue, and the worst of them all was asoldier. But the soldier died first!"
As he said these words he kept his eyes fixed on Ibrahim in a smiling,juvenile sort of way; and he saw the colour—the brownish-red colour—creep slowly into Ibrahim's eyes. For Ibrahim's father had three sons:and certainly one was a thief, for he had been a tax-gatherer; and onewas a rogue, for he had been the servant of a Greek money-lender; andIbrahim was a soldier!
Ibrahim was made to say these words over and over again, and the red fire