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"A hundred and twelve, neat," declared Westley, as he returned, throwing some loose leads into the buggy. "Colley's gone to saddle The Dutchman." "All right," answered Langdon, getting down from the seat and taking the saddle. "Go and tell the boy to bring Diablo out of the stall. I'll saddle him in the open. He generally kicks the boards when I cinch him up, an' it puts him in a bad humor."
"Thy comrade hath more wit." "He hath no mother," Nick said quietly, loosing his hold at last on Colley's hand. "I would rather have my mother than his wit." Elizabeth turned sharply back. Her keen eyes were sparkling, yet soft. "Thou art no fool," said she. A little murmur ran through the room. She sat a moment, silent, studying his face. "Or if thou art, upon my word I like the breed.
Another great Irishman, General Sir William Butler, has written the story of Colley's life. Butler himself was in command of the troops at the Cape before the great war. If his wise counsels had been followed by the Government, the war would undoubtedly have been avoided.
Colley's reminiscences were interrupted by loud applause from the theater; the present seldom gives the past a long hearing. The old war-horse cocked his ears. "It is Woffington speaking the epilogue," said Quin. "Oh, she has got the length of their foot, somehow," said a small actress. "And the breadth of their hands, too," said Pomander, waking from a nap.
Sir George Colley's death was much lamented in the Colony, where he was deservedly popular; indeed, anybody who had the honour of knowing that kind-hearted gentleman, could not do otherwise than deeply regret his untimely end. What his motive was in occupying Majuba in the way he did, has never, so far as I am aware, transpired.
"I've just tipped the scales at a hundred-and-three in my sweater." "One hundred and three," mused the Trainer, making a mental calculation. "What's Colley's weight?" "He's as near a hundred as you can make it." "Did you bring over a saddle?" "Yes; two of 'em; one apiece for the horses." "Tell Colley to take one, and some leads, and weigh out a hundred and twelve.
Nevertheless, mind yourself, master bulldog; you've only got a mouthful of long hair there; and when you do let go, I think, there is danger for you in those fierce gleaming eyes, and terrible grinning fangs. Sam was crying; and the men round were saying, "Oh! take the bulldog off; the colley's no good to him," when a man suddenly appeared at Sam's side, and called out,
I gazed mournfully on Majuba Hill, that black spot of bitter memories to every Briton, and of natural exultation and pride to the Boers; and on Colley's grave, the unfortunate commander, whose unhappy and most unaccountable military blunder led to the lamentable and fatal defeat, which cost him his life, and resulted in the miserable fiasco the retrocession of the Transvaal to the Boers.
"Or ever shall hear again," said the Venetian ambassador, under his breath, rubbing his forehead as if just wakening out of a dream. "Come," said Elizabeth, tapping Colley's cheek with her fan, "what wilt thou have of me, fair maid?" Colley turned red, then very pale. "That I may stay in the palace forever and sing for your Majesty," said he. His fingers shivered in Nick's.
Sir Henry Sydney, who was, perhaps, the wisest and most able of all the Lords Deputy whom Elizabeth sent over to Ireland, appears to have entertained a very high opinion of Sir Henry Colley's abilities; for, in recommending him to his successor in the Government, he describes him as "valiant, fortunate, and a good servant;" and speaks of him as his "sound and fast friend."
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