hem, risked his life a dozen times; but
nothing could disguise the fact that his failure was disastrous. It was
a small affair and was hushed up, but the consequences were not to be
forgotten. The hill-tribes, emboldened by their success, became more
venturesome, more unruly. A disturbance which might have been settled
without difficulty now required a large force to put it down, and ten
times more lives were lost.
Colonel Parsons was required to send in his papers, and left India a
broken man.... He came back to England, and settled in his father's
house at Little Primpton. His agony continued, and looking into the
future, he saw only hideous despair, unavailing regret. For months he
could bear to see no one, imagining always that he was pointed out as
the man whose folly had cost so many lives. When he heard people laugh
he thought it was in scorn of him; when he saw compassion in their eyes
he could scarcely restrain his tears. He was indeed utterly broken. He
walked in his garden, away from the eyes of his fellows, up and down,
continually turning over in his mind the events of that terrible week.
And he could not console himself by thinking that any other course would
have led to just as bad results. His error was too plain; he could put
his finger exactly on the point of his failure and say, "O God! why did
I do it?" And as he walked restlessly, unmindful of heat and cold, the
tears ran down his thin cheeks, painful and scalding. He would not take
his wife's comfort.
"You acted for the best, Richmond," she said.
"Yes, dear; I acted for the best. When I got those fellows hemmed in I
could have killed them all. But I'm not a butcher; I couldn't have them
shot down in cold blood. That's not war; that's murder. What should I
have said to my Maker when He asked me to account for those many souls?
I spared them; I imagined they'd understand; but they thought it was
weakness. I couldn't know they were preparing a trap for me. And now my
name is shameful. I shall never hold up my head again."
"You acted rightly in the sight of God, Richmond."
"I think and trust I acted as a Christian, Frances."
"If you have pleased God, you need not mind the opinion of man."
"Oh, it's not that they called me a fool and a coward--I could have
borne that. I did what I thought was right. I thought it my duty to save
the lives of my men and to spare the enemy; and the result was that ten
times more lives have been lost than if I
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