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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rujub, the Juggler, by G. A. Henty
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: Rujub, the Juggler
+
+Author: G. A. Henty
+
+Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7229]
+Posting Date: July 25, 2009
+Last Updated: August 20, 2023
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+Produced by: Martin Robb
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUJUB, THE JUGGLER ***
+
+
+
+
+RUJUB, THE JUGGLER
+
+
+By G. A. Henty.
+
+
+
+
+PUBLISHERS’ INTRODUCTION.
+
+
+“Rujub, the Juggler,” is mainly an historical tale for young and old,
+dealing with the Sepoy Mutiny, in India, during the years 1857 to 1859.
+
+This famous mutiny occurred while the reins of British rule in India
+were in the hands of Lord Canning. Chupattees (cakes of flour and water)
+were circulated among the natives, placards protesting against British
+rule were posted at Delhi, and when the Enfield rifle with its greased
+cartridges was introduced among the Sepoy soldiers serving the Queen it
+was rumored that the cartridges were smeared with the forbidden pig’s
+fat, so that the power of the Sepoys might forever be destroyed.
+
+Fanatical to the last degree, the Sepoys were not long in bringing the
+mutiny to a head. The first outbreak occurred at Meerut, where were
+stationed about two thousand English soldiers and three thousand native
+troops. The native troops refused to use the cartridges supplied to them
+and eighty-two were placed under arrest. On the day following the native
+troops rebelled in a body, broke open the guardhouse and released the
+prisoners, and a severe battle followed, and Meerut was given over to
+the flames. The mutineers then marched upon Delhi, thirty-two miles
+away, and took possession. At Bithoor the Rajah had always professed a
+strong friendship for the English, but he secretly plotted against them,
+and, later on, General Wheeler was compelled to surrender to the Rajah
+at Cawnpore, and did so with the understanding that the lives of all
+in the place should be spared. Shortly after the surrender the English
+officers and soldiers were shot down, and all of the women and children
+butchered.
+
+The mutiny was now at its height, and for a while it was feared that
+British rule in India must cease. The Europeans at Lucknow were besieged
+for about three months and were on the point of giving up, when they
+were relieved through the heroic march of General Havelock. Sir Colin
+Campbell followed, and soon the city was once more in the complete
+possession of the British. Oude was speedily reduced to submission,
+many of the rebel leaders were either shot or hanged, and gradually the
+mutiny, which had cost the lives of thousands, was brought to an end.
+
+The tale, however, is not all of war. In its pages are given many true
+to life pictures of life in India, in the barracks of the soldiers and
+elsewhere. A most important part is played by Rujub, the juggler, who is
+a warm friend to the hero of the narrative. Rujub is no common conjuror,
+but one of the higher men of mystery, who perform partly as a religious
+duty and who accept no pay for such performances. The acts of these
+persons are but little understood, even at this late day, and it is
+possible that many of their arts will sooner or later be utterly lost to
+the world at large. That they can do some wonderful things in juggling,
+mind reading, and in second sight, is testified to by thousands of
+people who have witnessed their performances in India; how they do these
+things has never yet been explained.
+
+Strange as it may seem, the hero of the tale is a natural born coward,
+who cannot stand the noise of gunfire. He realizes his shortcomings, and
+they are frequently brought home to him through the taunts of his fellow
+soldiers. A doctor proves that the dread of noise is hereditary, but
+this only adds to the young soldier’s misery. To make himself brave he
+rushes to the front in a most desperate fight, and engages in scout work
+which means almost certain death. In the end he masters his fear, and
+gives a practical lesson of what stern and unbending will power can
+accomplish.
+
+In many respects “Rujub, the Juggler,” will be found one of the
+strongest of Mr. Henty’s works, and this is saying much when one
+considers all of the many stories this well known author has already
+penned for the entertainment of young and old. As a picture of life in
+the English Army in India it is unexcelled.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+
+It would be difficult to find a fairer scene. Throughout the gardens
+lanterns of many shapes and devices threw their light down upon the
+paths, which were marked out by lines of little lamps suspended on wires
+a foot above the ground. In a treble row they encircled a large tank or
+pond and studded a little island in its center. Along the terraces were
+festoons and arches of innumerable lamps, while behind was the Palace or
+Castle, for it was called either; the Oriental doors and windows and the
+tracery of its walls lit up below by the soft light, while the outline
+of the upper part could scarce be made out. Eastern as the scene was,
+the actors were for the most part English. Although the crowd that
+promenaded the terrace was composed principally of men, of whom the
+majority were in uniform of one sort or another, the rest in evening
+dress, there were many ladies among them.
+
+At the end of one of the terraces a band of the 103d Bengal Infantry
+was playing, and when they ceased a band of native musicians, at the
+opposite end of the terrace, took up the strains. Within, the palace was
+brilliantly lighted, and at the tables in one of the large apartments
+a few couples were still seated at supper. Among his guests moved
+the Rajah, chatting in fluent English, laughing with the men, paying
+compliments to the ladies, a thoroughly good fellow all round, as his
+guests agreed. The affair had been a great success. There had first been
+a banquet to the officers and civilians at the neighboring station. When
+this was over, the ladies began to arrive, and for their amusement there
+had been a native nautch upon a grand scale, followed by a fine display
+of fireworks, and then by supper, at which the Rajah had made a speech
+expressive of his deep admiration and affection for the British. This he
+had followed up by proposing the health of the ladies in flowery terms.
+Never was there a better fellow than the Rajah. He had English tastes,
+and often dined at one or other of the officers’ messes. He was a good
+shot, and could fairly hold his own at billiards. He had first rate
+English horses in his stables, and his turnout was perfect in all
+respects. He kept a few horses for the races, and was present at every
+ball and entertainment. At Bithoor he kept almost open house. There was
+a billiard room and racquet courts, and once or twice a week there were
+luncheon parties, at which from twelve to twenty officers were generally
+present. In all India there was no Rajah with more pronounced English
+tastes or greater affection for English people. The one regret of his
+life, he often declared, was that his color and his religion prevented
+his entertaining the hope of obtaining an English wife. All this, as
+everyone said, was the more remarkable and praiseworthy, inasmuch as he
+had good grounds of complaint against the British Government.
+
+With the ladies he was an especial favorite; he was always ready to show
+them courtesy. His carriages were at their service. He was ready to
+give his aid and assistance to every gathering. His private band played
+frequently on the promenade, and handsome presents of shawls and jewelry
+were often made to those whom he held in highest favor. At present he
+was talking to General Wheeler and some other officers.
+
+“I warn you that I mean to win the cup at the races,” he said; “I have
+just bought the horse that swept the board on the Bombay side; I have
+set my heart on winning the cup, and so secured this horse. I am ready
+to back it if any of you gentlemen are disposed to wager against it.”
+
+“All in good time, Rajah,” one of the officers laughed; “we don’t know
+what will be entered against it yet, and we must wait to see what the
+betting is, but I doubt whether we have anything that will beat the
+Bombay crack on this side; I fancy you will have to lay odds on.”
+
+“We shall see,” the Rajah said; “I have always been unlucky, but I mean
+to win this time.”
+
+“I don’t think you take your losses much to heart, Rajah,” General
+Wheeler said; “yet there is no doubt that your bets are generally
+somewhat rash ones.”
+
+“I mean to make a coup this time. That is your word for a big thing,
+I think. The Government has treated me so badly I must try to take
+something out of the pockets of its officers.”
+
+“You do pretty well still,” the General laughed; “after this splendid
+entertainment you have given us this evening you can hardly call
+yourself a poor man.”
+
+“I know I am rich. I have enough for my little pleasures--I do not know
+that I could wish for more--still no one is ever quite content.”
+
+By this time the party was breaking up, and for the next half hour the
+Rajah was occupied in bidding goodby to his guests. When the last had
+gone he turned and entered the palace, passed through the great halls,
+and, pushing aside a curtain, entered a small room. The walls and the
+columns were of white marble, inlaid with arabesque work of colored
+stones. Four golden lamps hung from the ceiling, the floor was covered
+with costly carpets, and at one end ran a raised platform a foot in
+height, piled with soft cushions. He took a turn or two up and down the
+room, and then struck a silver bell. An attendant entered.
+
+“Send Khoosheal and Imambux here.”
+
+Two minutes later the men entered. Imambux commanded the Rajah’s troops,
+while Khoosheal was the master of his household.
+
+“All has gone off well,” the Rajah said; “I am pleased with you,
+Khoosheal. One more at most, and we shall have done with them. Little do
+they think what their good friend Nana Sahib is preparing for them. What
+a poor spirited creature they think me to kiss the hand that robbed me,
+to be friends with those who have deprived me of my rights! But the day
+of reckoning is not far off, and then woe to them all! Have any of your
+messengers returned, Imambux?”
+
+“Several have come in this evening, my lord; would you see them now, or
+wait till morning?”
+
+“I will see them now; I will get the memory of these chattering men and
+these women with their bare shoulders out of my mind. Send the men in
+one by one. I have no further occasion for you tonight; two are better
+than three when men talk of matters upon which an empire depends.”
+
+The two officers bowed and retired, and shortly afterwards the attendant
+drew back the curtain again, and a native, in the rags of a mendicant,
+entered, and bowed till his forehead touched the carpet. Then he
+remained kneeling, with his arms crossed over his chest, and his head
+inclined in the attitude of the deepest humility.
+
+“Where have you been?” the Rajah asked.
+
+“My lord’s slave has been for three weeks at Meerut. I have obeyed
+orders. I have distributed chupaties among the native regiments, with
+the words, ‘Watch, the time is coming,’ and have then gone before I
+could be questioned. Then, in another disguise, I have gone through
+the bazaar, and said in talk with many that the Sepoys were unclean and
+outcast, for that they had bitten cartridges anointed with pig’s fat,
+and that the Government had purposely greased the cartridges with this
+fat in order that the caste of all the Sepoys should be destroyed. When
+I had set men talking about this I left; it will be sure to come to the
+Sepoys’ ears.”
+
+The Rajah nodded. “Come again tomorrow at noon; you will have your
+reward then and further orders; but see that you keep silence; a single
+word, and though you hid in the farthest corner of India you would not
+escape my vengeance.”
+
+Man after man entered. Some of them, like the first, were in mendicant’s
+attire, one or two were fakirs, one looked like a well to do merchant.
+With the exception of the last, all had a similar tale to tell; they
+had been visiting the various cantonments of the native army, everywhere
+distributing chupaties and whispering tales of the intention of the
+Government to destroy the caste of the Sepoys by greasing the cartridges
+with pig’s fat. The man dressed like a trader was the last to enter.
+
+“How goes it, Mukdoomee?”
+
+“It is well, my lord; I have traversed all the districts where we dwelt
+of old, before the Feringhee stamped us out and sent scores to death and
+hundreds to prison. Most of the latter whom death has spared are free
+now, and with many of them have I talked. They are most of them old, and
+few would take the road again, but scarce one but has trained up his son
+or grandson to the work; not to practice it,--the hand of the whites was
+too heavy before, and the gains are not large enough to tempt men to run
+the risk--but they teach them for the love of the art. To a worshiper of
+the goddess there is a joy in a cleverly contrived plan and in casting
+the roomal round the neck of the victim, that can never die. Often in
+my young days, when perhaps twelve of us were on the road in a party, we
+made less than we could have done by labor, but none minded.
+
+“We were sworn brothers; we were working for Kali, and so that we sent
+her victims we cared little; and even after fifteen or twenty years
+spent in the Feringhee’s prisons, we love it still; none hate the white
+man as we do; has he not destroyed our profession? We have two things
+to work for; first, for vengeance; second, for the certainty that if the
+white man’s Raj were at an end, once again would the brotherhood follow
+their profession, and reap booty for ourselves and victims for
+Kali; for, assuredly, no native prince would dare to meddle with us.
+Therefore, upon every man who was once a Thug, and upon his sons and
+grandsons, you may depend. I do not say that they would be useful for
+fighting, for we have never been fighters, but the stranglers will be of
+use. You can trust them with missions, and send them where you choose.
+From their fathers’ lips they have learnt all about places and roads;
+they can decoy Feringhee travelers, the Company’s servants or soldiers,
+into quiet places, and slay them. They can creep into compounds and into
+houses, and choose their victims from the sleepers. You can trust them,
+Rajah, for they have learned to hate, and each in his way will, when the
+times comes, aid to stir up men to rise. The past had almost become a
+dream, but I have roused it into life again, and upon the descendants of
+the stranglers throughout India you can count surely.”
+
+“You have not mentioned my name?” the Rajah said suddenly, looking
+closely at the man as he put the question.
+
+“Assuredly not, your highness; I have simply said deliverance is at
+hand; the hour foretold for the end of the Raj of the men from beyond
+the sea will soon strike, and they will disappear from the land like
+fallen leaves; then will the glory of Kali return, then again will the
+brotherhood take to the road and gather in victims. I can promise that
+every one of those whose fathers or grandfathers or other kin died by
+the hand of the Feringhee, or suffered in his prisons, will do his share
+of the good work, and be ready to obey to the death the orders which
+will reach him.”
+
+“It is good,” the Rajah said; “you and your brethren will have a rich
+harvest of victims, and the sacred cord need never be idle. Go; it is
+well nigh morning, and I would sleep.”
+
+But not for some time did the Rajah close his eyes; his brain was busy
+with the schemes which he had long been maturing, but was only now
+beginning to put into action.
+
+“It must succeed,” he said to himself; “all through India the people
+will take up arms when the Sepoys give the signal by rising against
+their officers. The whites are wholly unsuspicious; they even believe
+that I, I whom they have robbed, am their friend. Fools! I hold them in
+the hollow of my hand; they shall trust me to the last, and then I will
+crush them. Not one shall escape me! Would I were as certain of all the
+other stations in India as I am of this. Oude, I know, will rise as
+one man; the Princes of Delhi I have sounded; they will be the leaders,
+though the old King will be the nominal head; but I shall pull the
+strings, and as Peishwa, shall be an independent sovereign, and next in
+dignity to the Emperor. Only nothing must be done until all is ready;
+not a movement must be made until I feel sure that every native regiment
+from Calcutta to the North is ready to rise.”
+
+And so, until the day had fully broken, the Rajah of Bithoor thought
+over his plans--the man who had a few hours before so sumptuously
+entertained the military and civilians of Cawnpore, and the man who was
+universally regarded as the firm friend of the British and one of the
+best fellows going.
+
+The days and weeks passed on, messengers came and went, the storm was
+slowing brewing; and yet to all men it seemed that India was never more
+contented nor the outlook more tranquil and assured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+
+A young man in a suit of brown karkee, with a white puggaree wound
+round his pith helmet, was just mounting in front of his bungalow at
+Deennugghur, some forty miles from Cawnpore, when two others came up.
+
+“Which way are you going to ride, Bathurst?”
+
+“I am going out to Narkeet; there is a dispute between the villagers and
+a Talookdar as to their limits. I have got to look into the case. Why do
+you ask, Mr. Hunter?”
+
+“I thought that you might be going that way. You know we have had
+several reports of ravages by a man eater whose headquarters seem to
+be that big jungle you pass through on your way to Narkeet. He has been
+paying visits to several villages in its neighborhood, and has carried
+off two mail runners. I should advise you to keep a sharp lookout.”
+
+“Yes, I have heard plenty about him; it is unfortunate we have no one at
+this station who goes in for tiger hunting. Young Bloxam was speaking
+to me last night; he is very hot about it; but as he knows nothing about
+shooting, and has never fired off a rifle in his life, except at the
+military target, I told him that it was madness to think of it by
+himself, and that he had better ride down to the regiment at Cawnpore,
+and get them to form a party to come up to hunt the beast. I told him
+they need not bring elephants with them; I could get as many as were
+necessary from some of the Talookdars, and there will be no want of
+beaters. He said he would write at once, but he doubted whether any of
+them would be able to get away at present; the general inspection is
+just coming on. However, no doubt they will be able to do so before
+long.”
+
+“Well, if I were you I would put a pair of pistols into my holster,
+Bathurst; it would be awfully awkward if you came across the beast.”
+
+“I never carry firearms,” the young man said shortly; and then more
+lightly, “I am a peaceful man by profession, as you are, Mr. Hunter,
+and I leave firearms to those whose profession it is to use them. I
+have hitherto never met with an occasion when I needed them, and am not
+likely to do so. I always carry this heavy hunting whip, which I find
+useful sometimes, when the village dogs rush out and pretend that they
+are going to attack me; and I fancy that even an Oude swordsman would
+think twice before attacking me when I had it in my hand. But, of
+course, there is no fear about the tiger. I generally ride pretty fast;
+and even if he were lying by the roadside waiting for a meal, I don’t
+think he would be likely to interfere with me.”
+
+So saying, he lightly touched the horse’s flanks with his spurs and
+cantered off.
+
+“He’s a fine young fellow, Garnet,” Mr. Hunter said to his companion;
+“full of energy, and, they say, the very best linguist in Oude.”
+
+“Yes, he is all that,” the other agreed; “but he is a sort of fellow
+one does not quite understand. I like a man who is like other fellows;
+Bathurst isn’t. He doesn’t shoot, he doesn’t ride--I mean he don’t care
+for pig sticking; he never goes in for any fun there may be on hand; he
+just works--nothing else; he does not seem to mix with other people;
+he is the sort of fellow one would say had got some sort of secret
+connected with him.”
+
+“If he has, I am certain it is nothing to his personal disadvantage,”
+ Mr. Hunter said warmly. “I have known him for the last six years--I
+won’t say very well, for I don’t think anyone does that, except,
+perhaps, Doctor Wade. When there was a wing of the regiment up here
+three years ago he and Bathurst took to each other very much--perhaps
+because they were both different from other people. But, anyhow, from
+what I know of Bathurst I believe him to be a very fine character,
+though there is certainly an amount of reserve about him altogether
+unusual. At any rate, the service is a gainer by it. I never knew a
+fellow work so indefatigably. He will take a very high place in the
+service before he has done.”
+
+“I am not so sure of that,” the other said. “He is a man with opinions
+of his own, and all sorts of crotchets and fads. He has been in hot
+water with the Chief Commissioner more than once. When I was over at
+Lucknow last I was chatting with two or three men, and his name happened
+to crop up, and one of them said, ‘Bathurst is a sort of knight errant,
+an official Don Quixote. Perhaps the best officer in the province in
+some respects, but hopelessly impracticable.’”
+
+“Yes, that I can quite understand, Garnet. That sort of man is never
+popular with the higher official, whose likings go to the man who does
+neither too much nor too little, who does his work without questioning,
+and never thinks of making suggestions, and is a mere official machine.
+Men of Bathurst’s type, who go to the bottom of things, protest against
+what they consider unfair decisions, and send in memorandums showing
+that their superiors are hopelessly ignorant and idiotically wrong, are
+always cordially disliked. Still, they generally work their way to the
+front in the long run. Well, I must be off.”
+
+Bathurst rode to Narkeet without drawing rein. His horse at times
+slackened its pace on its own accord, but an almost mechanical motion
+from its rider’s heel soon started it off again at the rapid pace at
+which its rider ordinarily traveled. From the time he left Deennugghur
+to his arrival at Narkeet no thought of the dreaded man eater entered
+Bathurst’s mind. He was deeply meditating on a memorandum he was about
+to draw up, respecting a decision that had been arrived at in a case
+between a Talookdar in his district and the Government, and in which, as
+it appeared to him, a wholly erroneous and unjust view had been taken
+as to the merits of the case; and he only roused himself when the horse
+broke into a walk as it entered the village. Two or three of the head
+men, with many bows and salutations of respect, came out to receive him.
+
+“My lord sahib has seen nothing of the tiger?” the head man said; “our
+hearts were melted with fear, for the evil beast was heard roaring in
+the jungle not far from the road early this morning.”
+
+“I never gave it a thought, one way or the other,” Bathurst said, as he
+dismounted. “I fancy the horse would have let me know if the brute had
+been anywhere near. See that he is tied up in the shed, and has food and
+water, and put a boy to keep the flies from worrying him. And now let us
+get to business. First of all, I must go through the village records
+and documents; after that I will question four or five of the oldest
+inhabitants, and then we must go over the ground. The whole question
+turns, you know, upon whether the irrigation ditch mentioned in the
+Talookdar’s grant is the one that runs across at the foot of the rising
+ground on his side, or whether it is the one that sweeps round on this
+side of the grove with the little temple in it. Unfortunately most of
+the best land lies between those ditches.”
+
+For hours Bathurst listened to the statements of the old people of the
+village, cross questioning them closely, and sparing no efforts to sift
+the truth from their confused and often contradictory evidence. Then he
+spent two hours going over the ground and endeavoring to satisfy himself
+which of the two ditches was the one named in the village records. He
+had two days before taken equal pains in sifting the evidence on the
+other side.
+
+“I trust that my lord sees there can be no doubt as to the justice of
+our claim,” the head man said humbly, as he prepared to mount again.
+
+“According to your point of view, there is no doubt about it, Childee;
+but then there is equally no doubt the other way, according to the
+statements they put forward. But that is generally the way in all these
+land disputes. For good hard swearing your Hindoo cultivator can be
+matched against the world. Unfortunately there is nothing either in your
+grant or in your neighbors’ that specifies unmistakably which of these
+ancient ditches is the one referred to. My present impression is that it
+is essentially a case for a compromise, but you know the final decision
+does not rest on me. I shall be out here again next week, and I shall
+write to the Talookdar to meet me here, and we will go over the ground
+together again, and see if we cannot arrange some line that will be fair
+to both parties. If we can do that, the matter would be settled without
+expense and trouble; whereas, if it goes up to Lucknow it may all have
+to be gone into again; and if the decision is given against you, and as
+far as I can see it is just as likely to be one way as another, it will
+be a serious thing for the village.”
+
+“We are in my lord’s hands,” the native said; “he is the protector of
+the poor, and will do us justice.”
+
+“I will do you justice, Childee, but I must do justice to the other side
+too. Of course, neither of you will be satisfied, but that cannot be
+helped.”
+
+His perfect knowledge of their language, the pains he took to sift all
+matters brought before him to the bottom, had rendered the young officer
+very popular among the natives. They knew they could get justice from
+him direct. There was no necessity to bribe underlings: he had the
+knack of extracting the truth from the mass of lying evidence always
+forthcoming in native cases; and even the defeated party admired the
+manner in which the fabric of falsehood was pulled to pieces. But the
+main reason of his popularity was his sympathy, the real interest which
+he showed in their cases, and the patience with which he listened to
+their stories.
+
+Bathurst himself, as he rode homewards, was still thinking of the
+case. Of course there had been lying on both sides; but to that he was
+accustomed. It was a question of importance--of greater importance, no
+doubt, to the villagers than to their opponent, but still important
+to him--for this tract of land was a valuable one, and of considerable
+extent, and there was really nothing in the documents produced on either
+side to show which ditch was intended by the original grants. Evidently,
+at the time they were made, very many years before, one ditch or the
+other was not in existence; but there was no proof as to which was the
+more recent, although both sides professed that all traditions handed
+down to them asserted the ditch on their side to be the more recent.
+
+He was riding along the road through the great jungle, at his horse’s
+own pace, which happened for the moment to be a gentle trot, when
+a piercing cry rang through the air a hundred yards ahead. Bathurst
+started from his reverie, and spurred his horse sharply; the animal
+dashed forward at a gallop. At a turn in the road he saw, twenty yards
+ahead of him, a tiger, standing with a foot upon a prostrate figure,
+while a man in front of it was gesticulating wildly. The tiger stood as
+if hesitating whether to strike down the figure in front or to content
+itself with that already in its power.
+
+The wild shouts of the man had apparently drowned the sound of the
+horse’s feet upon the soft road, for the animal drew back half a pace as
+it suddenly came into view.
+
+The horse swerved at the sight, and reared high in the air as Bathurst
+drove his spurs into it. As its feet touched the ground again, Bathurst
+sprang off and rushed at the tiger, and brought down the heavy lash
+of his whip with all his force across its head. With a fierce snarl it
+sprang back two paces, but again and again the whip descended upon it,
+and bewildered and amazed at the attack it turned swiftly and sprang
+through the bushes.
+
+Bathurst, knowing that there was no fear of its returning, turned at
+once to the figure on the road. It was, as in even the momentary glance
+he had noticed, a woman, or rather a girl of some fourteen or fifteen
+years of age--the man had dropped on his knees beside her, moaning and
+muttering incoherent words.
+
+“I see no blood,” Bathurst said, and stooping, lifted the light figure.
+“Her heart beats, man; I think she has only fainted. The tiger must have
+knocked her down in its spring without striking her. So far as I can see
+she is unhurt.”
+
+He carried her to the horse, which stood trembling a few yards away,
+took a flask from the holster, and poured a little brandy and water
+between her lips.
+
+Presently there was a faint sigh. “She is coming round,” he said to the
+man, who was still kneeling, looking on with vacant eyes, as though he
+had neither heard nor comprehended what Bathurst was doing. Presently
+the girl moved slightly and opened her eyes. At first there was no
+expression in them; then a vague wonder stole into them at the white
+face looking down upon her.
+
+She closed them again, and then reopened them, and then there was a
+slight struggle to free herself. He allowed her to slip through his arms
+until her feet touched the ground; then her eyes fell on the kneeling
+figure.
+
+“Father!” she exclaimed. With a cry the man leaped to his feet, sprang
+to her and seized her in his arms, and poured out words of endearment.
+Then suddenly he released her and threw himself on the ground before
+Bathurst, with ejaculations of gratitude and thankfulness.
+
+“Get up, man, get up,” the latter said; “your daughter can scarce stand
+alone, and the sooner we get away from this place the better; that
+savage beast is not likely to return, but he may do so; let us be off.”
+
+He mounted his horse again, brought it up to the side of the girl, and
+then, leaning over, took her and swung her into the saddle in front of
+him. The man took up a large box that was lying in the road and hoisted
+it onto his shoulders, and then, at a foot’s pace, they proceeded on
+their way--Bathurst keeping a close watch on the jungle at the side on
+which the tiger had entered it.
+
+“How came you to travel along this road alone?” he asked the man. “The
+natives only venture through in large parties, because of this tiger.”
+
+“I am a stranger,” the man answered; “I heard at the village where we
+slept last night that there was a tiger in this jungle, but I thought
+we should be through it before nightfall, and therefore there was no
+danger. If one heeded all they say about tigers one would never travel
+at all. I am a juggler, and we are on our way down the country through
+Cawnpore and Allahabad. Had it not been for the valor of my lord sahib,
+we should never have got there; for had I lost my Rabda, the light of
+my heart, I should have gone no further, but should have waited for the
+tiger to take me also.”
+
+“There was no particular valor about it,” Bathurst said shortly. “I saw
+the beast with its foot on your daughter, and dismounted to beat it off
+just as if it had been a dog, without thinking whether there was any
+danger in it or not. Men do it with savage beasts in menageries every
+day. They are cowardly brutes after all, and can’t stand the lash. He
+was taken altogether by surprise, too.”
+
+“My lord has saved my daughter’s life, and mine is at his service
+henceforth,” the man said. “The mouse is a small beast, but he may
+warn the lion. The white sahibs are brave and strong. Would one of my
+countrymen have ventured his life to attack a tiger, armed only with a
+whip, for the sake of the life of a poor wayfarer?”
+
+“Yes, I think there are many who would have done so,” Bathurst replied.
+“You do your countrymen injustice. There are plenty of brave men among
+them, and I have heard before now of villagers, armed only with sticks,
+attacking a tiger who has carried off a victim from among them. You
+yourself were standing boldly before it when I came up.”
+
+“My child was under its feet--besides, I never thought of myself. If
+I had had a weapon I should not have drawn it. I had no thought of the
+tiger; I only thought that my child was dead. She works with me, sahib;
+since her mother died, five years ago, we have traveled together over
+the country; she plays while I conjure. She takes round the saucer for
+the money, and she acts with me in the tricks that require two persons;
+it is she who disappears from the basket. We are everything to each
+other, sahib. But what is my lord’s name? Will he tell his servant, that
+he and Rabda may think of him and talk of him as they tramp the roads
+together?”
+
+“My name is Ralph Bathurst. I am District Officer at Deennugghur. How
+far are you going this evening?”
+
+“We shall sleep at the first village we come to, sahib; we have walked
+many hours today, and this box, though its contents are not weighty,
+is heavy to bear. We thought of going down tomorrow to Deennugghur, and
+showing our performances to the sahib logue there.”
+
+“Very well; but there is one thing--what is your name?”
+
+“Rujub.”
+
+“Well, Rujub, if you go on to Deennugghur tomorrow say nothing to anyone
+there about this affair with the tiger; it is nothing to talk about. I
+am not a shikari, but a hard working official, and I don’t want to be
+talked about.”
+
+“The sahib’s wish shall be obeyed,” the man said.
+
+“You can come round to my bungalow and ask for me; I shall be glad to
+hear whether your daughter is any the worse for her scare. How do you
+feel, Rabda?”
+
+“I feel as one in a dream, sahib. I saw a great yellow beast springing
+through the air, and I cried out, and knew nothing more till I saw the
+sahib’s face; and now I have heard him and my father talking, but their
+voices sound to me as if far away, though I know that you are holding
+me.”
+
+“You will be all the better after a night’s rest, child; no wonder you
+feel strange and shaken. Another quarter of an hour and we shall be at
+the village. I suppose, Rujub, you were born a conjurer.”
+
+“Yes, sahib, it is always so; it goes down from father to son. As soon
+as I was able to walk, I began to work with my father, and as I grew
+up he initiated me in the secrets of our craft, which we may never
+divulge.”
+
+“No, I know they are a mystery. Many of your tricks can be done by our
+conjurers at home, but there are some that have never been solved.”
+
+“I have been offered, more than once, large sums by English sahibs to
+tell them how some of the feats were done, but I could not; we are bound
+by terrible oaths, and; in no case has a juggler proved false to them.
+Were one to do so he would be slain without mercy, and his fate in the
+next world would be terrible; forever and forever his soul would pass
+through the bodies of the foulest and lowest creatures, and there would
+be no forgiveness for him. I would give my life for the sahib, but even
+to him I would not divulge our mysteries.”
+
+In a few minutes they came to the first village beyond the jungle. As
+they approached it Bathurst checked his horse and lifted the girl down.
+She took his hand and pressed her forehead to it.
+
+“I shall see you tomorrow, then, Rujub,” he said, and shaking the reins,
+went on at a canter.
+
+“That is a new character for me to come out in,” he said bitterly; “I do
+not know myself--I, of all men. But there was no bravery in it; it never
+occurred to me to be afraid; I just thrashed him off as I should beat
+off a dog who was killing a lamb; there was no noise, and it is noise
+that frightens me; if the brute had roared I should assuredly have run;
+I know it would have been so; I could not have helped it to have saved
+my life. It is an awful curse that I am not as other men, and that I
+tremble and shake like a girl at the sound of firearms. It would have
+been better if I had been killed by the first shot fired in the Punjaub
+eight years ago, or if I had blown my brains out at the end of the day.
+Good Heavens! what have I suffered since. But I will not think of it.
+Thank God, I have got my work; and as long as I keep my thoughts on that
+there is no room for that other;” and then, by a great effort of will,
+Ralph Bathurst put the past behind him, and concentrated his thoughts on
+the work on which he had been that day engaged.
+
+The juggler did not arrive on the following evening as he had expected,
+but late in the afternoon a native boy brought in a message from him,
+saying that his daughter was too shaken and ill to travel, but that they
+would come when she recovered.
+
+A week later, on returning from a long day’s work, Bathurst was told
+that a juggler was in the veranda waiting to see him.
+
+“I told him, sahib,” the servant said, “that you cared not for such
+entertainments, and that he had better go elsewhere; but he insisted
+that you yourself had told him to come, and so I let him wait.”
+
+“Has he a girl with him, Jafur?”
+
+“Yes, sahib.”
+
+Bathurst strolled round to the other side of the bungalow, where Rujub
+was sitting patiently, with Rabda wrapped in her blue cloth beside him.
+They rose to their feet.
+
+“I am glad to see your daughter is better again, Rujub.”
+
+“She is better, sahib; she has had fever, but is restored.”
+
+“I cannot see your juggling tonight, Rujub. I have had a heavy day’s
+work, and am worn out, and have still much to do. You had better go
+round to some of the other bungalows; though I don’t think you will do
+much this evening, for there is a dinner party at the Collector’s, and
+almost everyone will be there. My servants will give you food, and I
+shall be off at seven o’clock in the morning, but shall be glad to see
+you before I start. Are you in want of money?” and he put his hand in
+his pocket.
+
+“No, sahib,” the juggler said. “We have money sufficient for all our
+wants; we are not thinking of performing tonight, for Rabda is not
+equal to it. Before sunrise we shall be on our way again; I must be at
+Cawnpore, and we have delayed too long already. Could you give us but
+half an hour tonight, sahib; we will come at any hour you like. I would
+show you things that few Englishmen have seen. Not mere common tricks,
+sahib, but mysteries such as are known to few even of us. Do not say no,
+sahib.”
+
+“Well, if you wish it, Rujub, I will give you half an hour,” and
+Bathurst looked at his watch. “It is seven now, and I have to dine. I
+have work to do that will take me three hours at least, but at eleven I
+shall have finished. You will see a light in my room; come straight to
+the open window.”
+
+“We will be there, sahib;” and with a salaam the juggler walked off,
+followed by his daughter.
+
+A few minutes before the appointed time Bathurst threw down his pen with
+a little sigh of satisfaction.
+
+The memo he had just finished was a most conclusive one; it seemed
+to him unanswerable, and that the Department would have trouble in
+disputing his facts and figures. He had not since he sat down to his
+work given another thought to the juggler, and he almost started as a
+figure appeared in the veranda at the open window.
+
+“Ah, Rujub, is it you? I have just finished my work. Come in; is Rabda
+with you?”
+
+“She will remain outside until I want her,” the juggler said as he
+entered and squatted himself on the floor. “I am not going to juggle,
+sahib. With us there are two sorts of feats; there are those that are
+performed by sleight of hand or by means of assistance. These are the
+juggler’s tricks we show in the verandas and compounds of the white
+sahibs, and in the streets of the cities. There are others that are
+known only to the higher order among us, that we show only on rare
+occasions. They have come to us from the oldest times, and it is said
+they were brought by wise men from Egypt; but that I know not.”
+
+“I have always been interested in juggling, and have seen many things
+that I cannot understand,” Bathurst said. “I have seen the basket trick
+done on the road in front of the veranda, as well as in other places,
+and I cannot in any way account for it.”
+
+The juggler took from his basket a piece of wood about two feet in
+length and some four inches in diameter.
+
+“You see this?” he said.
+
+Bathurst took it in his hand. “It looks like a bit sawn off a telegraph
+pole,” he said.
+
+“Will you come outside, sahib?”
+
+The night was very dark, but the lamp on the table threw its light
+through the window onto the drive in front of the veranda. Rujub took
+with him a piece of wood about nine inches square, with a soft pad on
+the top. He went out in the drive and placed the piece of pole upright,
+and laid the wood with the cushion on the top.
+
+“Now will you stand in the veranda a while?”
+
+Bathurst stood back by the side of the window so as not to interfere
+with the passage of the light. Rabda stole forward and sat down upon the
+cushion.
+
+“Now watch, sahib.”
+
+Bathurst looked, and saw the block of wood apparently growing. Gradually
+it rose until Rabda passed up beyond the light in the room.
+
+“You may come out,” the juggler said, “but do not touch the pole. If you
+do, it will cause a fall, which would be fatal to my child.”
+
+Bathurst stepped out and looked up. He could but just make out the
+figure of Rabda, seemingly already higher than the top of the bungalow.
+Gradually it became more and more indistinct.
+
+“You are there, Rabda?” her father said.
+
+“I am here, father!” and the voice seemed to come from a considerable
+distance.
+
+Again and again the question was asked, and the answer became fainter
+and fainter, although it sounded as if it was a distant cry in response
+to Rujub’s shout rather than spoken in an ordinary voice.
+
+At last no response was heard.
+
+“Now it shall descend,” the juggler said.
+
+Two or three minutes passed, and then Bathurst, who was staring up into
+the darkness, could make out the end of the pole with the seat upon
+it, but Rabda was no longer there. Rapidly it sank, until it stood its
+original height on the ground.
+
+“Where is Rabda?” Bathurst exclaimed.
+
+“She is here, my lord,” and as he spoke Rabda rose from a sitting
+position on the balcony close to Bathurst.
+
+“It is marvelous!” the latter exclaimed. “I have heard of that feat
+before, but have never seen it. May I take up that piece of wood?”
+
+“Assuredly, sahib.”
+
+Bathurst took it up and carried it to the light. It was undoubtedly,
+as he had before supposed, a piece of solid wood. The juggler had not
+touched it, or he would have supposed he might have substituted for the
+piece he first examined a sort of telescope of thin sheets of steel, but
+even that would not have accounted for Rabda’s disappearance.
+
+“I will show you one other feat, my lord.”
+
+He took a brass dish, placed a few pieces of wood and charcoal in it,
+struck a match, and set the wood on fire, and then fanned it until the
+wood had burned out, and the charcoal was in a glow; then he sprinkled
+some powder upon it, and a dense white smoke rose.
+
+“Now turn out the lamp, sahib.”
+
+Bathurst did so. The glow of the charcoal enabled him still to see the
+light smoke; this seemed to him to become clearer and clearer.
+
+“Now for the past!” Rujub said. The smoke grew brighter and brighter,
+and mixed with flashes of color; presently Bathurst saw clearly an
+Indian scene. A village stood on a crest, jets of smoke darted up
+from between the houses, and then a line of troops in scarlet uniform
+advanced against the village, firing as they went. They paused for a
+moment, and then with a rush went at the village and disappeared in the
+smoke over the crest.
+
+“Good Heavens,” Bathurst muttered, “it is the battle of Chillianwalla!”
+
+“The future!” Rujub said, and the colors on the smoke changed. Bathurst
+saw a wall surrounding a courtyard. On one side was a house. It had
+evidently been besieged, for in the upper part were many ragged holes,
+and two of the windows were knocked into one. On the roof were men
+firing, and there were one or two women among them. He could see their
+faces and features distinctly. In the courtyard wall there was a gap,
+and through this a crowd of Sepoys were making their way, while a
+handful of whites were defending a breastwork. Among them he recognized
+his own figure. He saw himself club his rifle and leap down into the
+middle of the Sepoys, fighting furiously there. The colors faded away,
+and the room was in darkness again. There was the crack of a match, and
+then Rujub said quietly, “If you will lift off the globe again, I will
+light the lamp, sahib.”
+
+Bathurst almost mechanically did as he was told.
+
+“Well, sahib, what do you think of the pictures?”
+
+“The first was true,” Bathurst said quietly, “though, how you knew I was
+with the regiment that stormed the village at Chillianwalla I know not.
+The second is certainly not true.”
+
+“You can never know what the future will be, sahib,” the juggler said
+gravely.
+
+“That is so,” Bathurst said; “but I know enough of myself to say that
+it cannot be true. I do not say that the Sepoys can never be fighting
+against whites, improbable as it seems, but that I was doing what that
+figure did is, I know, impossible.”
+
+“Time will show, sahib,” the juggler said; “the pictures never lie.
+Shall I show you other things?”
+
+“No, Rujub, you have shown me enough; you have astounded me. I want to
+see no more tonight.”
+
+“Then farewell, sahib; we shall meet again, I doubt not, and mayhap I
+may be able to repay the debt I owe you;” and Rujub, lifting his basket,
+went out through the window without another word.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+
+Some seven or eight officers were sitting round the table in the
+messroom of the 103d Bengal Infantry at Cawnpore. It had been a guest
+night, but the strangers had left, the lights had been turned out in the
+billiard room overhead, the whist party had broken up, and the players
+had rejoined three officers who had remained at table smoking and
+talking quietly.
+
+Outside, through the open French windows, the ground looked as if
+sprinkled with snow beneath the white light of the full moon. Two or
+three of the mess servants were squatting in the veranda, talking in low
+voices. A sentry walked backwards and forwards by the gate leading into
+the mess house compound; beyond, the maidan stretched away flat and
+level to the low huts of the native lines on the other side.
+
+“So the Doctor comes back tomorrow, Major,” the Adjutant, who had been
+one of the whist party, said. “I shall be very glad to have him back.
+In the first place, he is a capital fellow, and keeps us all alive;
+secondly, he is a good deal better doctor than the station surgeon who
+has been looking after the men since we have been here; and lastly, if
+I had got anything the matter with me myself, I would rather be in his
+hands than those of anyone else I know.”
+
+“Yes, I agree with you, Prothero; the Doctor is as good a fellow as ever
+stepped. There is no doubt about his talent in his profession; and there
+are a good many of us who owed our lives to him when we were down with
+cholera, in that bad attack three years ago. He is good all round; he
+is just as keen a shikari as he was when he joined the regiment,
+twenty years ago; he is a good billiard player, and one of the best
+storytellers I ever came across; but his best point is that he is such a
+thoroughly good fellow--always ready to do a good turn to anyone, and to
+help a lame dog over a stile. I could name a dozen men in India who
+owe their commissions to him. I don’t know what the regiment would do
+without him.”
+
+“He went home on leave just after I joined,” one of the subalterns said.
+“Of course, I know, from all I have heard of him, that he is an awfully
+good fellow, but from the little I saw of him myself, he seemed always
+growling and snapping.”
+
+There was a general laugh from the others.
+
+“Yes, that is his way, Thompson,” the Major said; “he believes himself
+to be one of the most cynical and morose of men.”
+
+“He was married, wasn’t he, Major?”
+
+“Yes, it was a sad business. It was only just after I joined. He is
+three years senior to me in the regiment. He was appointed to it a month
+or two after the Colonel joined. Well, as I say, a month or two after I
+came to it, he went away on leave down to Calcutta, where he was to meet
+a young lady who had been engaged to him before he left home. They were
+married, and he brought her up country. Before she had been with us a
+month we had one of those outbreaks of cholera. It wasn’t a very severe
+one. I think we only lost eight or ten men, and no officer; but the
+Doctor’s young wife was attacked, and in three or four hours she was
+carried off. It regularly broke him down. However, he got over it, as
+we all do, I suppose; and now I think he is married to the regiment. He
+could have had staff appointments a score of times, but he has always
+refused them. His time is up next year, and he could go home on full
+pay, but I don’t suppose he will.”
+
+“And your niece arrives with him tomorrow, Major,” the Adjutant said.
+
+“Yes, I am going to try petticoat government, Prothero. I don’t know how
+the experiment will succeed, but I am tired of an empty bungalow, and I
+have been looking forward for some years to her being old enough to come
+out and take charge. It is ten years since I was home, and she was a
+little chit of eight years old at that time.”
+
+“I think a vote of thanks ought to be passed to you, Major. We have only
+married ladies in the regiment, and it will wake us up and do us good to
+have Miss Hannay among us.”
+
+“There are the Colonel’s daughters,” the Major said, with a smile.
+
+“Yes, there are, Major, but they hardly count; they are scarcely
+conscious of the existence of poor creatures like us; nothing short of a
+Resident or, at any rate, of a full blown Collector, will find favor in
+their eyes.”
+
+“Well, I warn you all fairly,” the Major said, “that I shall set my
+face against all sorts of philandering and love making. I am bringing my
+niece out here as my housekeeper and companion, and not as a prospective
+wife for any of you youngsters. I hope she will turn out to be as plain
+as a pikestaff, and then I may have some hopes of keeping her with me
+for a time. The Doctor, in his letter from Calcutta, says nothing as to
+what she is like, though he was good enough to remark that she seemed to
+have a fair share of common sense, and has given him no more trouble
+on the voyage than was to be expected under the circumstances. And now,
+lads, it is nearly two o’clock, and as there is early parade tomorrow,
+it is high time for you to be all in your beds. What a blessing it would
+be if the sun would forget to shine for a bit on this portion of the
+world, and we could have an Arctic night of seven or eight months with a
+full moon the whole time!”
+
+A few minutes later the messroom was empty, the lights turned out, and
+the servants wrapped up in their blankets had disposed themselves for
+sleep in the veranda.
+
+As soon as morning parade was over Major Hannay went back to his
+bungalow, looked round to see that his bachelor quarters were as bright
+and tidy as possible, then got into a light suit and went down to the
+post house. A quarter of an hour later a cloud of dust along the road
+betokened the approach of the Dak Gharry, and two or three minutes later
+it dashed up at full gallop amid a loud and continuous cracking of the
+driver’s whip. The wiry little horses were drawn up with a sudden jerk.
+
+The Major opened the door. A little man sprang out and grasped him by
+the hand.
+
+“Glad to see you, Major--thoroughly glad to be back again. Here is your
+niece; I deliver her safe and sound into your hands.” And between them
+they helped a girl to alight from the vehicle.
+
+“I am heartily glad to see you, my dear,” the Major said, as he kissed
+her; “though I don’t think I should have known you again.”
+
+“I should think not, uncle,” the girl said. “In the first place, I was
+a little girl in short frocks when I saw you last; and in the second
+place, I am so covered with the dust that you can hardly see what I
+am like. I think I should have known you; your visit made a great
+impression upon us, though I can remember now how disappointed we were
+when you first arrived that you hadn’t a red coat and a sword, as we had
+expected.”
+
+“Well, we may as well be off at once, Isobel; it is only five minutes’
+walk to the bungalow. My man will see to your luggage being brought up.
+Come along, Doctor. Of course you will put up with me until you can look
+round and fix upon quarters. I told Rumzan to bring your things round
+with my niece’s. You have had a very pleasant voyage out, I hope,
+Isobel?” he went on, as they started.
+
+“Very pleasant, uncle, though I got rather tired of it at last.”
+
+“That is generally the way--everyone is pleasant and agreeable at first,
+but before they get to the end they take to quarreling like cats and
+dogs.”
+
+“We were not quite as bad as that,” the girl laughed, “but we certainly
+weren’t as amiable the last month or so as we were during the first
+part of the voyage. Still, it was very pleasant all along, and nobody
+quarreled with me.”
+
+“Present company are always excepted,” the Doctor said. “I stood in loco
+parentis, Major, and the result has been that I shall feel in future
+more charitable towards mothers of marriageable daughters. Still, I am
+bound to say that Miss Hannay has given me as little trouble as could be
+expected.”
+
+“You frighten me, Doctor; if you found her so onerous only for a voyage,
+what have I to look forward to?”
+
+“Well, you can’t say that I didn’t warn you, Major; when you wrote home
+and asked me to take charge of your niece on the way out, I told you
+frankly that my opinion of your good sense was shaken.”
+
+“Yes, you did express yourself with some strength,” the Major laughed;
+“but then one is so accustomed to that, that I did not take it to heart
+as I might otherwise have done.”
+
+“That was before you knew me, Dr. Wade, otherwise I should feel very
+hurt,” the girl put in.
+
+“Yes, it was,” the Doctor said dryly.
+
+“Don’t mind him, my dear,” her uncle said; “we all know the Doctor of
+old. This is my bungalow.”
+
+“It is pretty, with all these flowers and shrubs round it,” she said
+admiringly.
+
+“Yes, we have been doing a good deal of watering the last few weeks, so
+as to get it to look its best. This is your special attendant; she will
+take you up to your room. By the time you have had a bath, your boxes
+will be here. I told them to have a cup of tea ready for you upstairs.
+Breakfast will be on the table by the time you are ready.”
+
+“Well, old friend,” he said to the Doctor, when the girl had gone
+upstairs, “no complications, I hope, on the voyage?”
+
+“No, I think not,” the Doctor said. “Of course, there were lots of young
+puppies on board, and as she was out and out the best looking girl in
+the ship half of them were dancing attendance upon her all the voyage,
+but I am bound to say that she acted like a sensible young woman;
+and though she was pleasant with them all, she didn’t get into any
+flirtation with one more than another. I did my best to look after her,
+but, of course, that would have been of no good if she had been disposed
+to go her own way. I fancy about half of them proposed to her--not that
+she ever said as much to me--but whenever I observed one looking sulky
+and giving himself airs I could guess pretty well what had happened.
+These young puppies are all alike, and we are not without experience of
+the species out here.
+
+“Seriously, Major, I think you are to be congratulated. I consider that
+you ran a tremendous risk in asking a young woman, of whom you knew
+nothing, to come out to you; still it has turned out well. If she had
+been a frivolous, giggling thing, like most of them, I had made up my
+mind to do you a good turn by helping to get her engaged on the voyage,
+and should have seen her married offhand at Calcutta, and have come up
+and told you that you were well out of the scrape. As, contrary to my
+expectations, she turned out to be a sensible young woman, I did my best
+the other way. It is likely enough you may have her on your hands some
+little time, for I don’t think she is likely to be caught by the first
+comer. Well, I must go and have my bath; the dust has been awful coming
+up from Allahabad. That is one advantage, and the only one as far as
+I can see, that they have got in England. They don’t know what dust is
+there.”
+
+When the bell for breakfast rang, and Isobel made her appearance,
+looking fresh and cool, in a light dress, the Major said, “You must
+take the head of the table, my dear, and assume the reins of government
+forthwith.”
+
+“Then I should say, uncle, that if any guidance is required, there will
+be an upset in a very short time. No, that won’t do at all. You must go
+on just as you were before, and I shall look on and learn. As far as I
+can see, everything is perfect just as it is. This is a charming room,
+and I am sure there is no fault to be found with the arrangement of
+these flowers on the table. As for the cooking, everything looks very
+nice, and anyhow, if you have not been able to get them to cook to your
+taste, it is of no use my attempting anything in that way. Besides, I
+suppose I must learn something of the language before I can attempt to
+do anything. No, uncle, I will sit in this chair if you like, and
+make tea and pour it out, but that is the beginning and the end of my
+assumption of the head of the establishment at present.”
+
+“Well, Isobel, I hardly expected that you were going to run the
+establishment just at first; indeed, as far as that goes, one’s butler,
+if he is a good man, has pretty well a free hand. He is generally
+responsible, and is in fact what we should call at home housekeeper--he
+and the cook between them arrange everything. I say to him, ‘Three
+gentlemen are coming to tiffen.’ He nods and says ‘Atcha, sahib,’ which
+means ‘All right, sir,’ and then I know it will be all right. If I have
+a fancy for any special thing, of course I say so. Otherwise, I leave it
+to them, and if the result is not satisfactory, I blow up. Nothing can
+be more simple.”
+
+“But how about bills, uncle?”
+
+“Well, my dear, the butler gives them to me, and I pay them. He has been
+with me a good many years, and will not let the others--that is to
+say, the cook and the syce, the washerman, and so on, cheat me beyond a
+reasonable amount. Do you, Rumzan?”
+
+Rumzan, who was standing behind the Major’s chair, in a white turban and
+dress, with a red and white sash round his waist, smiled.
+
+“Rumzan not let anyone rob his master.”
+
+“Not to any great extent, you know, Rumzan. One doesn’t expect more than
+that.”
+
+“It is just the same here, Miss Hannay, as it is everywhere else,”
+ said the Doctor; “only in big establishments in England they rob you of
+pounds, while here they rob you of annas, which, as I have explained to
+you, are two pence halfpennies. The person who undertakes to put down
+little peculations enters upon a war in which he is sure to get the
+worst of it. He wastes his time, spoils his temper, makes himself and
+everyone around him uncomfortable, and after all he is robbed. Life is
+too short for it, especially in a climate like this. Of course, in time
+you get to understand the language; if you see anything in the bills
+that strikes you as showing waste you can go into the thing, but as a
+rule you trust entirely to your butler; if you cannot trust him, get
+another one. Rumzan has been with your uncle ten years, so you are
+fortunate. If the Major had gone home instead of me, and if you had
+had an entirely fresh establishment of servants to look after, the case
+would have been different; as it is, you will have no trouble that way.”
+
+“Then what are my duties to be, uncle?”
+
+“Your chief duties, my dear, are to look pleasant, which will evidently
+be no trouble to you; to amuse me and keep me in a good temper as far
+as possible; to keep on as good terms as may be with the other ladies of
+the station; and, what will perhaps be the most difficult part of your
+work, to snub and keep in order the young officers of our own and other
+corps.”
+
+Isobel laughed. “That doesn’t sound a very difficult programme, uncle,
+except the last item; I have already had a little experience that way,
+haven’t I, Doctor? I hope I shall have the benefit of your assistance in
+the future, as I had aboard the ship.”
+
+“I will do my best,” the Doctor said grimly; “but the British subaltern
+is pretty well impervious to snubs; he belongs to the pachydermatous
+family of animals; his armor of self conceit renders him invulnerable
+against the milder forms of raillery. However, I think you can be
+trusted to hold your own with him, Miss Hannay, without much assistance
+from the Major or myself. Your real difficulty will lie rather in your
+struggle against the united female forces of the station.”
+
+“But why shall I have to struggle with them?” Isobel asked, in surprise,
+while her uncle broke into a laugh.
+
+“Don’t frighten her, Doctor.”
+
+“She is not so easily frightened, Major; it is just as well that she
+should be prepared. Well, my dear Miss Hannay, Indian society has this
+peculiarity, that the women never grow old. At least,” he continued,
+in reply to the girl’s look of surprise, “they are never conscious
+of growing old. At home a woman’s family grows up about her, and are
+constant reminders that she is becoming a matron. Here the children are
+sent away when they get four or five years old, and do not appear on the
+scene again until they are grown up. Then, too, ladies are greatly in
+the minority, and they are accustomed to be made vastly more of than
+they are at home, and the consequence is that the amount of envy,
+hatred, jealousy, and all uncharitableness is appalling.”
+
+“No, no, Doctor, not as bad as that,” the Major remonstrated.
+
+“Every bit as bad as that,” the Doctor said stoutly. “I am not a woman
+hater, far from it; but I have felt sometimes that if John Company,
+in its beneficence, would pass a decree absolutely excluding the
+importation of white women into India it would be an unmixed blessing.”
+
+“For shame, Doctor,” Isobel Hannay said; “and to think that I should
+have such a high opinion of you up to now.”
+
+“I can’t help it, my dear; my experience is that for ninety-nine out of
+every hundred unpleasantnesses that take place out here, women are in
+one way or another responsible. They get up sets and cliques, and break
+up what might be otherwise pleasant society into sections. Talk about
+caste amongst natives; it is nothing to the caste among women out
+here. The wife of a civilian of high rank looks down upon the wives of
+military men, the general’s wife looks down upon a captain’s, and so
+right through from the top to the bottom.
+
+“It is not so among the men, or at any rate to a very much smaller
+extent. Of course, some men are pompous fools, but, as a rule, if two
+men meet, and both are gentlemen, they care nothing as to what their
+respective ranks may be. A man may be a lord or a doctor, a millionaire
+or a struggling barrister, but they meet on equal terms in society; but
+out here it is certainly not so among the women--they stand upon
+their husband’s dignity in a way that would be pitiable if it were not
+exasperating. Of course, there are plenty of good women among them, as
+there are everywhere--women whom even India can’t spoil; but what with
+exclusiveness, and with the amount of admiration and adulation they get,
+and what with the want of occupation for their thoughts and minds, it is
+very hard for them to avoid getting spoilt.”
+
+“Well, I hope I shan’t get spoilt, Doctor; and I hope, if you see that I
+am getting spoilt, you will make a point of telling me so at once.”
+
+The Doctor grunted. “Theoretically, people are always ready to receive
+good advice, Miss Hannay; practically they are always offended by
+it. However, in your case I will risk it, and I am bound to say that
+hitherto you have proved yourself more amenable in that way than most
+young women I have come across.”
+
+“And now, if we have done, we will go out on the veranda,” the Major
+said. “I am sure the Doctor must be dying for a cheroot.”
+
+“The Doctor has smoked pretty continuously since we left Allahabad,”
+ Isobel said. “He wanted to sit up with the driver, but, of course, I
+would not have that. I had got pretty well accustomed to smoke coming
+out, and even if I had not been I would much rather have been almost
+suffocated than have been in there by myself. I thought a dozen times
+the vehicle was going to upset, and what with the bumping and the
+shouting and the cracking of the whip--especially when the horses
+wouldn’t start, which was generally the case at first--I should have
+been frightened out of my life had I been alone. It seemed to me that
+something dreadful was always going to happen.”
+
+“You can take it easy this morning, Isobel,” the Major said, when they
+were comfortably seated in the bamboo lounges in the veranda. “You want
+have any callers today, as it will be known you traveled all night.
+People will imagine that you want a quiet day before you are on show.”
+
+“What a horrid expression, uncle!”
+
+“Well, my dear, it represents the truth. The arrival of a fresh lady
+from England, especially of a ‘spin,’ which is short for spinster or
+unmarried woman, is an event of some importance in an Indian station.
+Not, of course, so much in a place like this, because this is the center
+of a large district, but in a small station it is an event of the first
+importance. The men are anxious to see what a newcomer is like for
+herself; the women, to look at her dresses and see the latest fashions
+from home, and also to ascertain whether she is likely to turn out a
+formidable rival. However, today you can enjoy quiet; tomorrow you
+must attire yourself in your most becoming costume, and I will trot you
+round.”
+
+“Trot me round, uncle?”
+
+“Yes, my dear. In India the order of procedure is reversed, and
+newcomers call in the first place upon residents.”
+
+“What a very unpleasant custom, uncle; especially as some of the
+residents may not want to know them.”
+
+“Well, everyone must know everyone else in a station, my dear, though
+they may not wish to be intimate. So, about half past one tomorrow we
+will start.”
+
+“What, in the heat of the day, uncle?”
+
+“Yes, my dear. That is another of the inscrutable freaks of Indian
+fashion. The hours for calling are from about half past twelve to half
+past two, just in the hottest hours. I don’t pretend to account for it.”
+
+“How many ladies are there in the regiment?”
+
+“There is the Colonel’s wife, Mrs. Cromarty. She has two grown up red
+headed girls,” replied the Doctor. “She is a distant relation--a second
+cousin--of some Scotch lord or other, and, on the strength of that and
+her husband’s colonelcy, gives herself prodigious airs. Three of the
+captains are married. Mrs. Doolan is a merry little Irish woman. You
+will like her. She has two or three children. She is a general favorite
+in the regiment.
+
+“Mrs. Rintoul--I suppose she is here still, Major, and unchanged? Ah, I
+thought so. She is a washed-out woman, without a spark of energy in her
+composition.-’ She believes that she is a chronic invalid, and sends
+for me on an average once a week. But there is nothing really the matter
+with her, if she would but only believe it. Mrs. Roberts--”
+
+“Don’t be ill natured, Doctor,” the Major broke in. “Mrs. Roberts, my
+dear, is a good-looking woman, and a general flirt. I don’t think there
+is any harm in her whatever. Mrs. Prothero, the Adjutant’s wife, has
+only been out here eighteen months, and is a pretty little woman, and in
+all respects nice.-There is only one other, Mrs. Scarsdale; she came out
+six months ago. She is a quiet young woman, with, I should say, plenty
+of common sense: I should think you will like her. That completes the
+regimental list.”
+
+“Well, that is not so very formidable. Anyhow, it is a. comfort that we
+shall have no one here today.”
+
+“You will have the whole regiment here in a few minutes, Isobel, but
+they will be coming to see the Doctor, not you; if it hadn’t been that
+they knew you were under his charge everyone would have come down to
+meet him when he arrived. But if you feel tired, as I am sure you must
+be after your journey, there is no reason why you shouldn’t go and lie
+down quietly for a few hours.”
+
+“I will stop here, uncle; it will be much less embarrassing to see them
+all for the first time when they come to see Dr. Wade and I am quite a
+secondary consideration, than if they had to come specially to call on
+me.”
+
+“Well, I agree with you there, my dear. Ah! here come Doolan and
+Prothero.”
+
+A light trap drove into the inclosure and drew up in front of the
+veranda, and two officers jumped down,-whilst the syce, who had been
+standing on a step behind, ran to the horse’s head. They hailed the
+Doctor, as he stepped out from the veranda, with a shout.
+
+“Glad to see you back, Doctor. The regiment has not seemed like itself
+without you.”
+
+“We have been just pining without you, Doctor,” Captain Doolan said;
+“and the ladies would have got up a deputation to meet you on your
+arrival, only I told them that it would be too much for your modesty.”
+
+“Well, it is a good thing that someone has a little of that quality in
+the regiment, Doolan,” the Doctor said, as he shook hands heartily with
+them both. “It is very little of it that fell to the share of Ireland
+when it was served out.”
+
+As they dropped the Doctor’s hand the Major said, “Now, gentlemen, let
+me introduce you to my niece.” The introductions were made, and the
+whole party took chairs on the veranda.
+
+“Do you object to smoking, Miss Hannay; perhaps you have not got
+accustomed to it yet? I see the Doctor is-smoking; but then he is a
+privileged person, altogether beyond rule.”
+
+“I rather like it in the open air,” Isobel said. “No doubt I shall get
+accustomed to it indoors before long.”
+
+In a few minutes four or five more of the officers arrived, and Isobel
+sat an amused listener to the talk; taking but little part in it
+herself, but gathering a good deal of information as to the people at
+the station from the answers given to the Doctor’s inquiries. It was
+very much like the conversation on board ship, except that the topics of
+conversation were wider and more numerous, and there was a community
+of interest wanting on board a ship. In half an hour, however, the
+increasing warmth and her sleepless night began to tell upon her, and
+her uncle, seeing that she was beginning to look fagged, said, “The best
+thing that you can do, Isobel, is to go indoors for a bit, and have a
+good nap. At five o’clock I will take you round for a drive, and show
+you the sights of Cawnpore.”
+
+“I do feel sleepy,” she said, “though it sounds rude to say so.”
+
+“Not at all,” the Doctor put in; “if any of these young fellows had made
+the journey out from Allahabad in that wretched gharry, they would have
+turned into bed as soon as they arrived, and would not have got up till
+the first mess bugle sounded, and very likely would have slept on until
+next morning.
+
+“Now,” he went on, when Isobel had disappeared, “we will adjourn with
+you to the mess-house. That young lady would have very small chance of
+getting to sleep with all this racket here. Doolan’s voice alone would
+banish sleep anywhere within a distance of a hundred yards.”
+
+“I will join you there later, Doctor,” the Major said. “I have got a
+couple of hours’ work in the orderly-room. Rumzan, don’t let my niece be
+disturbed, but if she wakes and rings the bell send up a message by the
+woman that I-shall not be back until four.”
+
+The Major walked across to the orderly room, while the rest, mounting
+their buggies, drove to the mess-house, which was a quarter of a mile
+away.
+
+“I should think Miss Hannay will prove a valuable addition to our
+circle, Doctor,” the Adjutant said. “I don’t know why, but I gathered
+from what the Major said that his niece was very young. He spoke of her
+as if she were quite a child.”
+
+“She is a very nice, sensible young woman,” the Doctor said; “clever and
+bright, and, as you can see for your-selves, pretty, and yet no nonsense
+about her. I only hope that she won’t get spoilt here; nineteen out of
+twenty young women do get spoilt within six months of their arrival in
+India, but I think she will be one of the exceptions.”
+
+“I should have liked to have seen the Doctor doing chaperon,” Captain
+Doolan laughed; “he would have been a brave man who would have attempted
+even the faintest flirtation with anyone under his charge.”
+
+“That is your opinion, is it, Doolan?” the Doctor said sharply. “I
+should have thought that even your common sense would have told you that
+anyone who has had the misfortune to see as much of womankind as I have
+would have been aware that any endeavor to check a flirtation for which
+they are inclined would be of all others the way to induce them to go in
+for it headlong. You are a married man yourself, and ought to know that.
+A woman is a good deal like a spirited horse; let her have her head,
+and, though she may for a time make the pace pretty fast, she will go
+straight, and settle down to her collar in time, whereas if you keep a
+tight curb she will fret and fidget, and as likely as not make a
+bolt for it. I can assure you that my duties were of The most nominal
+description. There were the usual number of hollow pated lads on board,
+who buzzed in their usual feeble way round Miss Hannay, and were one
+after another duly snubbed. Miss Hannay has plenty of spirits, and a
+considerable sense of humor, and I think that she enjoyed the voyage
+thoroughly. And now let us talk of something else.”
+
+After an hour’s chat the Doctor started on his round of calls upon the
+ladies; the Major had not come in from the orderly room, and, after the
+Doctor left, Isobel Hannay was again the topic of conversation.
+
+“She is out and out the prettiest girl in the station,” the Adjutant
+said to some of the officers who had not seen her. “She will make quite
+a sensation; and there are five or six ladies in the station, whose
+names I need hardly mention, who will not be very pleased at her coming.
+She is thoroughly in good form, too; nothing in the slightest degree
+fast or noisy about her. She is quiet and self-possessed. I fancy she
+will be able to hold her own against any of them. Clever? I should say
+‘certainly’; but, of course, that is from her face rather than from
+anything she said. I expect half the unmarried men in the station will
+be going wild over her. You need not look so interested, Wilson; the
+matter is of no more personal interest to you than if I were describing
+a new comet. Nothing less than a big civilian is likely to carry off
+such a prize, so I warn you beforehand you had better not be losing your
+heart to her.”
+
+“Well, you know, Prothero, subalterns do manage to get wives sometimes.”
+
+There was a laugh.
+
+“That is true enough, Wilson; but then, you see, I married at home;
+besides, I am adjutant, which sounds a lot better than subaltern.”
+
+“That may go for a good deal in the regiment,” Wilson retorted, “but
+I doubt if there are many women that know the difference between
+an adjutant and a quartermaster. They know about colonels, majors,
+captains, and even subalterns; but if you were to say that you were an
+adjutant they would be simply mystified, though they might understand if
+you said bandmaster. But I fancy sergeant major would sound ever so much
+more imposing.”
+
+“Wilson, if you are disrespectful, I shall discover tomorrow, on parade,
+that No. 3 Company wants a couple of hours’ extra drill badly, and then
+you will feel how grievous a mistake it is to cheek an adjutant.”
+
+The report of those who had called at the Major’s was so favorable that
+curiosity was quite roused as to the new-comer, and when the Major drove
+round with her the next day everyone was at home, and the verdict on
+the part of the ladies was generally favorable, but was by no means so
+unqualified as that of the gentlemen.
+
+Mrs. Cromarty admitted that she was nice looking; but was critical as
+to her carriage and manner. She would be admired by young officers, no
+doubt, but there was too much life and animation about her, and although
+she would not exactly say that she stooped, she was likely to do so in
+time.
+
+“She will be nothing remarkable when her freshness has worn off a
+little.”
+
+In this opinion the Misses Cromarty thoroughly assented. They had never
+been accused of stooping, and, indeed, were almost painfully upright,
+and were certainly not particularly admired by subalterns.
+
+Mrs. Doolan was charmed with her, and told her she hoped that they would
+be great friends.
+
+“This is a very pleasant life out here, my dear,” she said, “if one does
+but take it in the right way. There is a great deal of tittle tattle in
+the Indian stations, and some quarreling; but, you know, it takes two to
+make a quarrel, and I make it a point never to quarrel with anyone. It
+is too hot for it. Then, you see, I have the advantage of being Irish,
+and, for some reason or other that I don’t understand we can say pretty
+nearly what we like. People don’t take us seriously, you know; so I keep
+in with them all.”
+
+Mrs. Rintoul received her visitors on the sofa. “It is quite refreshing
+to see a face straight from England, Miss Hannay. I only hope that you
+may keep your bright color and healthy looks. Some people do. Not their
+color, but their health. Unfortunately I am not one of them. I do not
+know what it is to have a day’s health. The climate completely oppresses
+me, and I am fit for nothing. You would hardly believe that I was as
+strong and healthy as you are when I first came out. You came out with
+Dr. Wade--a clever man--I have a very high opinion of his talent, but my
+case is beyond him. It is a sad annoyance to him that it is so, and
+he is continually trying to make me believe that there is nothing the
+matter with me, as if my looks did not speak for themselves.”
+
+Mrs. Rintoul afterwards told her husband she could hardly say that she
+liked Miss Hannay.
+
+“She is distressingly brisk and healthy, and I should say, my dear, not
+of a sympathetic nature, which is always a pity in a young woman.”
+
+After this somewhat depressing visit, the call upon Mrs. Roberts was a
+refreshing one. She received her very cordially.
+
+“I like you, Miss Hannay,” she said, when, after a quarter of an hour’s
+lively talk, the Major and his niece got up to go. “I always say what I
+think, and it is very good natured of me to say so, for I don’t disguise
+from myself that you will put my nose out of joint.”
+
+“I don’t want to put anyone’s nose out of joint,” Isobel laughed.
+
+“You will do it, whether you want to or not,” Mrs. Roberts said; “my
+husband as much as told me so last night, and I was prepared not to like
+you, but I see that I shall not be able to help doing so. Major Hannay,
+you have dealt me a heavy blow, but I forgive you.”
+
+When the round of visits was finished the Major said, “Well, Isobel,
+what do you think of the ladies of the regiment?”
+
+“I think they are all very nice, uncle. I fancy I shall like Mrs.
+Doolan and Mrs. Scarsdale best; I won’t give any opinion yet about Mrs.
+Cromarty.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+The life of Isobel Hannay had not, up to the time when she left England
+to join her uncle, been a very bright one. At the death of her father,
+her mother had been left with an income that enabled her to live, as she
+said, genteelly, at Brighton. She had three children: the eldest a
+girl of twelve; Isobel, who was eight; and a boy of five, who was sadly
+deformed, the result of a fall from the arms of a careless nurse when
+he was an infant. It was at that time that Major Hannay had come home on
+leave, having been left trustee and executor, and seen to all the money
+arrangements, and had established his brother’s widow at Brighton. The
+work had not been altogether pleasant, for Mrs. Hannay was a selfish and
+querulous woman, very difficult to satisfy even in little matters, and
+with a chronic suspicion that everyone with whom she came in contact
+was trying to get the best of her. Her eldest girl was likely, Captain
+Hannay thought, to take after her mother, whose pet she was, while
+Isobel took after her father. He had suggested that both should be sent
+to school, but Mrs. Hannay would not hear of parting from Helena, but
+was willing enough that Isobel should be sent to a boarding school at
+her uncle’s expense.
+
+As the years went by, Helena grew up, as Mrs. Hannay proudly said, the
+image of what she herself had been at her age--tall and fair, indolent
+and selfish, fond of dress and gayety, discontented because their means
+would not permit them to indulge in either to the fullest extent. There
+was nothing in common between her and her sister, who, when at home
+for the holidays, spent her time almost entirely with her brother, who
+received but slight attention from anyone else, his deformity being
+considered as a personal injury and affliction by his mother and elder
+sister.
+
+“You could not care less for him,” Isobel once said, in a fit of
+passion, “if he were a dog. I don’t think you notice him more, not one
+bit. He wanders about the house without anybody to give a thought to
+him. I call it cruel, downright cruel.”
+
+“You are a wicked girl, Isobel,” her mother said angrily, “a wicked,
+violent girl, and I don’t know what will become of you. It is abominable
+of you to talk so, even if you are wicked enough to get into a passion.
+What can we do for him that we don’t do? What is the use of talking to
+him when he never pays attention to what we say, and is always moping. I
+am sure we get everything that we think will please him, and he goes out
+for a walk with us every day; what could possibly be done more for him?”
+
+“A great deal more might be done for him,” Isobel burst out. “You might
+love him, and that would be everything to him. I don’t believe you and
+Helena love him, not one bit, not one tiny scrap.”
+
+“Go up to your room, Isobel, and remain there for the rest of the day.
+You are a very bad girl. I shall write to Miss Virtue about you; there
+must be something very wrong in her management of you, or you would
+never be so passionate and insolent as you are.”
+
+But Isobel had not stopped to hear the last part of the sentence, the
+door had slammed behind her. She was not many minutes alone upstairs,
+for Robert soon followed her up, for when she was at home he rarely left
+her side, watching her every look and gesture with eyes as loving as
+those of a dog, and happy to sit on the ground beside her, with his head
+leaning against her, for hours together.
+
+Mrs. Hannay kept her word and wrote to Miss Virtue, and the evening
+after she returned to school Isobel was summoned to her room.
+
+“I am sorry to say, I have a very bad account of you from your mother.
+She says you are a passionate and wicked girl. How is it, dear; you are
+not passionate here, and I certainly do not think you are wicked?”
+
+“I can’t help it when I am at home, Miss Virtue. I am sure I try to
+be good, but they won’t let me. They don’t like me because I can’t be
+always tidy and what they call prettily behaved, and because I hate
+walking on the parade and being stuck up and unnatural, and they don’t
+like me because I am not pretty, and because I am thin and don’t look,
+as mamma says, a credit to her; but it is not that so much as because
+of Robert. You know he is deformed, Miss Virtue, and they don’t care for
+him, and he has no one to love him but me, and it makes me mad to see
+him treated so. That is what it was she wrote about. I told her they
+treated him like a dog and so they do,” and she burst into tears.
+
+“But that was very naughty, Isobel,” Miss Virtue said gravely. “You are
+only eleven years old, and too young to be a judge of these matters,
+and even if it were as you say, it is not for a child to speak so to her
+mother.”
+
+“I know that, Miss Virtue, but how can I help it? I could cry out with
+pain when I see Robert looking from one to the other just for a kind
+word, which he never gets. It is no use, Miss Virtue; if it was not for
+him I would much rather never go home at all, but stop here through
+the holidays, only what would he do if I didn’t go home? I am the only
+pleasure he has. When I am there he will sit for hours on my knee, and
+lay his head on my shoulder, and stroke my face. It makes me feel as if
+my heart would break.”
+
+“Well, my dear,” Miss Virtue said, somewhat puzzled, “it is sad, if it
+is as you say, but that does not excuse your being disrespectful to your
+mother. It is not for you to judge her.”
+
+“But cannot something be done for Robert, Miss Virtue? Surely they must
+do something for children like him.”
+
+“There are people, my dear, who take a few afflicted children and give
+them special training. Children of that kind have sometimes shown a
+great deal of unusual talent, and, if so, it is cultivated, and they are
+put in a way of earning a livelihood.”
+
+“Are there?” Isobel exclaimed, with eager eyes. “Then I know what I
+will do, Miss Virtue; I will write off at once to Uncle Tom--he is
+our guardian. I know if I were to speak to mamma about Robert going to
+school it would be of no use; but if uncle writes I dare say it would be
+done. I am sure she and Helena would be glad enough. I don’t suppose she
+ever thought of it. It would be a relief to them to get him out of their
+sight.”
+
+Miss Virtue shook her head. “You must not talk so, Isobel. It is not
+right or dutiful, and you are a great deal too young to judge your
+elders, even if they were not related to you; and, pray, if you write to
+your uncle do not write in that spirit--it would shock him greatly, and
+he would form a very bad opinion of you.”
+
+And so Isobel wrote. She was in the habit of writing once every half
+year to her uncle, who had told her that he wished her to do so, and
+that people out abroad had great pleasure in letters from England.
+Hitherto she had only written about her school life, and this letter
+caused her a great deal of trouble.
+
+It answered its purpose. Captain Hannay had no liking either for his
+sister in law or his eldest niece, and had, when he was with them, been
+struck with the neglect with which the little boy was treated. Isobel
+had taken great pains not to say anything that would show she considered
+that Robert was harshly treated; but had simply said that she heard
+there were schools where little boys like him could be taught, and that
+it would be such a great thing for him, as it was very dull for him
+having nothing to do all day. But Captain Hannay read through the lines,
+and felt that it was a protest against her brother’s treatment, and that
+she would not have written to him had she not felt that so only would
+anything be done for him. Accordingly he wrote home to his sister in
+law, saying he thought it was quite time now that the boy should be
+placed with some gentleman who took a few lads unfitted for the rough
+life of an ordinary school. He should take the charges upon himself, and
+had written to his agent in London to find out such an establishment,
+to make arrangements for Robert to go there, and to send down one of his
+clerks to take charge of him on the journey. He also wrote to Isobel,
+telling her what he had done, and blaming himself for not having thought
+of it before, winding up by saying: “I have not mentioned to your mother
+that I heard from you about it--that is a little secret just as well to
+keep to ourselves.”
+
+The next five years were much happier to Isobel, for the thought of her
+brother at home without her had before been constantly on her mind. It
+was a delight to her now to go home and to see the steady improvement
+that took place in Robert. He was brighter in every respect, and
+expressed himself as most happy where he was.
+
+As years went on he grew into a bright and intelligent boy, though his
+health was by no means good, and he looked frail and delicate. He was as
+passionately attached to her as ever, and during the holidays they
+were never separated; they stood quite alone, their mother and sister
+interesting themselves but little in their doings, and they were allowed
+to take long walks together, and to sit in a room by themselves, where
+they talked, drew, painted, and read.
+
+Mrs. Hannay disapproved of Isobel as much as ever. “She is a most
+headstrong girl,” she would lament to her friends, “and is really quite
+beyond my control. I do not at all approve of the school she is at, but
+unfortunately my brother in law, who is her guardian, has, under the
+will of my poor husband, absolute control in the matter. I am sure poor
+John never intended that he should be able to override my wishes; but
+though I have written to him several times about it, he says that he
+sees no valid reason for any change, and that from Isobel’s letters to
+him she seems very happy there, and to be getting on well. She is so
+very unlike dear Helena, and even when at home I see but little of her;
+she is completely wrapped up in her unfortunate brother. Of course I
+don’t blame her for that, but it is not natural that a girl her age
+should care nothing for pleasures or going out or the things natural to
+young people. Yes, she is certainly improving in appearance, and if she
+would but take some little pains about her dress would be really very
+presentable.”
+
+But her mother’s indifference disturbed Isobel but little. She was
+perfectly happy with her brother when at home, and very happy at school,
+where she was a general favorite. She was impulsive, high spirited,
+and occasionally gave Miss Virtue some trouble, but her disposition
+was frank and generous, there was not a tinge of selfishness in her
+disposition, and while she was greatly liked by girls of her own age,
+she was quite adored by little ones. The future that she always pictured
+to herself was a little cottage with a bright garden in the suburbs of
+London, where she and Robert could live together--she would go out as a
+daily governess; Robert, who was learning to play the organ, would,
+she hoped, get a post as organist. Not, of course, for the sake of the
+salary, for her earnings, and the interest of the thousand pounds that
+would be hers when she came of age, would be sufficient for them both,
+but as an amusement for him, and to give him a sense of independence.
+
+But when she was just seventeen, and was looking forward to the time
+when she would begin to carry her plan into effect, a terrible blow
+came. She heard from her mother that Robert was dead.
+
+“It is a sad blow for us all,” Mrs. Hannay wrote, “but, as you know, he
+has never been strong; still, we had no idea that anything serious ailed
+him until we heard a fortnight since he was suffering from a violent
+cough and had lost strength rapidly. A week later we heard that the
+doctors were of opinion it was a case of sudden consumption, and that
+the end was rapidly approaching. I went up to town to see him, and found
+him even worse than I expected, and was in no way surprised when this
+morning I received a letter saying that he had gone. Great as is the
+blow, one cannot but feel that, terribly afflicted as he was, his death
+is, as far as he is concerned, a happy release. I trust you will now
+abandon your wild scheme of teaching and come home.”
+
+But home was less home than ever to Isobel now, and she remained another
+six months at school, when she received an important letter from her
+uncle.
+
+“My Dear Isobel: When you first wrote to me and told me that what you
+were most looking forward to was to make a home for your brother, I own
+that it was a blow to me, for I had long had plans of my own about you;
+however, I thought your desire to help your brother was so natural, and
+would give you such happiness in carrying it into effect, that I at once
+fell in with it and put aside my own plan. But the case is altered now,
+and I can see no reason why I cannot have my own way. When I was in
+England I made up my mind that unless I married, which was a most
+improbable contingency, I would, when you were old enough, have you
+out to keep house for me. I foresaw, even then, that your brother might
+prove an obstacle to this plan. Even in the short time I was with you
+it was easy enough to see that the charge of him would fall on your
+shoulders, and that it would be a labor of love to you.
+
+“If he lived, then, I felt you would not leave him, and that you would
+be right in not doing so, but even then it seemed likely to me that
+he would not grow up to manhood. From time to time I have been in
+correspondence with the clergyman he was with, and learned that the
+doctor who attended them thought but poorly of him. I had him taken
+to two first class physicians in London; they pronounced him to be
+constitutionally weak, and said that beyond strengthening medicines and
+that sort of thing they could do nothing for him.
+
+“Therefore, dear, it was no surprise to me when I received first your
+mother’s letter with the news, and then your own written a few days
+later. When I answered that letter I thought it as well not to say
+anything of my plan, but by the time you receive this, it will be six
+months since your great loss, and you will be able to look at it in a
+fairer light than you could have done then, and I do hope you will agree
+to come out to me. Life here has its advantages and disadvantages, but I
+think that, especially for young people, it is a pleasant one.
+
+“I am getting very tired of a bachelor’s establishment, and it will be a
+very great pleasure indeed to have you here. Ever since I was in England
+I made up my mind to adopt you as my own child. You are very like my
+brother John, and your letters and all I have heard of you show that you
+have grown up just as he would have wished you to do. Your sister Helena
+is your mother’s child, and, without wishing to hurt your feelings, your
+mother and I have nothing in common. I regard you as the only relation
+I have in the world, and whether you come out or whether you do not,
+whatever I leave behind me will be yours. I do hope that you will at any
+rate come out for a time. Later on, if you don’t like the life here, you
+can fall back upon your own plan.
+
+“If you decide to come, write to my agent. I inclose envelope addressed
+to him. Tell him when you can be ready. He will put you in the way of
+the people you had better go to for your outfit, will pay all bills,
+take your passage, and so on.
+
+“Whatever you do, do not stint yourself. The people you go to will know
+a great deal better than you can do what is necessary for a lady out
+here. All you will have to do will be to get measured and to give them
+an idea of your likes and fancies as to colors and so on. They will have
+instructions from my agent to furnish you with a complete outfit, and
+will know exactly how many dozens of everything are required.
+
+“I can see no reason why you should not start within a month after the
+receipt of this letter, and I shall look most anxiously for a letter
+from you saying that you will come, and that you will start by a sailing
+ship in a month at latest from the date of your writing.”
+
+Isobel did not hesitate, as her faith in her uncle was unbounded. Next
+to her meetings with her brother, his letters had been her greatest
+pleasures. He had always taken her part; it was he who, at her request,
+had Robert placed at school, and he had kept her at Miss Virtue’s
+in spite of her mother’s complaints. At home she had never felt
+comfortable; it had always seemed to her that she was in the way;
+her mother disapproved of her; while from Helena she had never had a
+sisterly word. To go out to India to see the wonders she had read of,
+and to be her uncle’s companion, seemed a perfectly delightful prospect.
+Her answer to her uncle was sent off the day after she received his
+letter, and that day month she stepped on board an Indiaman in the
+London Docks.
+
+The intervening time had not been a pleasant one. Mrs. Hannay had heard
+from the Major of his wishes and intentions regarding Isobel, and she
+was greatly displeased thereat.
+
+“Why should he have chosen you instead of Helena?” she said angrily to
+Isobel, on the first day of her arrival home.
+
+“I suppose because he thought I should suit him better, mamma. I really
+don’t see why you should be upset about it; I don’t suppose Helena would
+have liked to go, and I am sure you would not have liked to have had
+me with you instead of her. I should have thought you would have been
+pleased I was off your hands altogether. It doesn’t seem to me that you
+have ever been really glad to have me about you.”
+
+“That has been entirely your own fault,” Mrs. Hannay said. “You have
+always been headstrong and determined to go your own way, you have never
+been fit to be seen when anyone came, you have thwarted me in every
+way.”
+
+“I am very sorry, mamma. I think I might have been better if you had had
+a little more patience with me, but even now if you really wish me to
+stay at home I will do so. I can write again to uncle and tell him that
+I have changed my mind.”
+
+“Certainly not,” Mrs. Hannay said. “Naturally I should wish to have my
+children with me, but I doubt whether your being here would be for the
+happiness of any of us, and besides, I do not wish your uncle’s money
+to go out of the family; he might take it into his head to leave it to
+a hospital for black women. Still, it would have been only right and
+proper that he should at any rate have given Helena the first choice.
+As for your instant acceptance of his offer, without even consulting me,
+nothing can surprise me in that way after your general conduct towards
+me.”
+
+However, although Mrs. Hannay declined to take any interest in Isobel’s
+preparations, and continued to behave as an injured person, neither she
+nor Helena were sorry at heart for the arrangement that had been
+made. They objected very strongly to Isobel’s plan of going out as a
+governess; but upon the other hand, her presence at home would in many
+ways have been an inconvenience. Two can make a better appearance on
+a fixed income than three can, and her presence at home would have
+necessitated many small economies. She was, too, a disturbing element;
+the others understood each other perfectly, and both felt that they in
+no way understood Isobel. Altogether, it was much better that she should
+go.
+
+As to the heirship, Captain Hannay had spoken freely as to his monetary
+affairs when he had been in England after his brother’s death.
+
+“My pay is amply sufficient for all my wants,” he said; “but everything
+is expensive out there, and I have had no occasion to save. I have a
+few hundred pounds laid by, so that if I break down, and am ordered to
+Europe at any time on sick leave, I can live comfortably for that time;
+but, beyond that, there has been no reason why I should lay by. I am
+not likely ever to marry, and when I have served my full time my pension
+will be ample for my wants in England; but I shall do my best to help if
+help is necessary. Fortunately the interest of the thousand apiece the
+girls were left by my aunt will help your income. When it is necessary
+to do anything for Robert, poor lad, I will take that expense on
+myself.”
+
+“I thought all Indians came home with lots of money,” Mrs. Hannay said
+complainingly.
+
+“Not the military. We do the fighting, and get fairly paid for it. The
+civilians get five times as highly paid, and run no risks whatever. Why
+it should be so no one has ever attempted to explain; but there it is,
+sister.”
+
+Mrs. Hannay, therefore, although she complained of the partiality shown
+to Isobel, was well aware that the Major’s savings could amount to no
+very great sum; although, in nine years, with higher rank and better
+pay, he might have added a good bit to the little store of which he had
+spoken to her.
+
+When, a week before the vessel sailed, Dr. Wade appeared with a letter
+he had received from the Major, asking him to take charge of Isobel on
+the voyage, Mrs. Hannay conceived a violent objection to him. He had, in
+fact, been by no means pleased with the commission, and had arrived in
+an unusually aggressive and snappish humor. He cut short Mrs. Hannay’s
+well turned sentences ruthlessly, and aggrieved her by remarking on
+Helena’s want of color, and recommending plenty of walking exercise
+taken at a brisk pace, and more ease and comfort in the matter of dress.
+
+“Your daughter’s lungs have no room to play, madam,” he said; “her
+heart is compressed. No one can expect to be healthy under such
+circumstances.”
+
+“I have my own medical attendant, Dr. Wade,” Mrs. Hannay said decidedly.
+
+“No doubt, madam, no doubt. All I can say is, if his recommendations
+are not the same as mine, he must be a downright fool. Very well, Miss
+Hannay, I think we understand each other; I shall be on board by eleven
+o’clock, and shall keep a sharp lookout for you. Don’t be later than
+twelve; she will warp out of the dock by one at latest, and if you miss
+that your only plan will be to take the train down to Tilbury, and hire
+a boat there.”
+
+“I shall be in time, sir,” Isobel said.
+
+“Well, I hope you will, but my experience of women is pretty extensive,
+and I have scarcely met one who could be relied upon to keep an
+appointment punctually. Don’t laden yourself more than you can help with
+little bags, and parcels, and bundles of all kinds; I expect you will
+be three or four in a cabin, and you will find that there is no room
+for litter. Take the things you will require at first in one or two
+flat trunks which will stow under your berth; once a week or so, if the
+weather is fine, you will be able to get at your things in the hold. Do
+try if possible to pack all the things that you are likely to want to
+get at during the voyage in one trunk, and have a star or any mark
+you like painted on that trunk with your name, then there will be no
+occasion for the sailors to haul twenty boxes upon deck. Be sure you
+send all your trunks on board, except those you want in your cabin, two
+days before she sails. Do you think you can remember all that?”
+
+“I think so, Dr. Wade.”
+
+“Very well then, I’m off,” and the Doctor shook hands with Isobel,
+nodded to Mrs. Hannay and Helena, and hurried away.
+
+“What a perfectly detestable little man!” Mrs. Hannay exclaimed, as the
+door closed over him. “Your uncle must have been out of his senses to
+select such an odious person to look after you on the voyage. I really
+pity you, Isobel.”
+
+“I have no doubt he is very much nicer than he seems, mamma. Uncle said,
+you know, in his letter last week, that he had written to Dr. Wade to
+look after me, if, as he thought probable, he might be coming out in the
+same ship. He said that he was a little brusque in his manner, but that
+he was a general favorite, and one of the kindest hearted of men.”
+
+“A little brusque,” Mrs. Hannay repeated scornfully. “If he is only
+considered a little brusque in India, all I can say is society must be
+in a lamentable state out there.”
+
+“Uncle says he is a great shikari, and has probably killed more tigers
+than any man in India.”
+
+“I really don’t see that that is any recommendation whatever, Isobel,
+although it might be if you were likely to encounter tigers on board
+ship. However, I am not surprised that your opinion differs from mine;
+we very seldom see matters in the same light. I only hope you may be
+right and I may be wrong, for otherwise the journey is not likely to be
+a very pleasant one for you; personally, I would almost as soon have
+a Bengal tiger loose about the ship than such a very rude, unmannerly
+person as Dr. Wade.”
+
+Mrs. Hannay and Helena accompanied Isobel to the docks, and went on
+board ship with her.
+
+The Doctor received them at the gangway. He was in a better temper, for
+the fact that he was on the point of starting for India again had put
+him in high spirits. He escorted the party below and saw that they got
+lunch, showed Isobel which was her cabin, introduced her to two or three
+ladies of his acquaintance, and made himself so generally pleasant that
+even Mrs. Hannay was mollified.
+
+As soon as luncheon was over the bell was rung, and the partings
+were hurriedly got through, as the pilot announced that the tide
+was slackening nearly half an hour before its time, and that it was
+necessary to get the ship out of dock at once.
+
+“Now, Miss Hannay, if you will take my advice,” the Doctor said, as soon
+as the ship was fairly in the stream, “you will go below, get out all
+the things you will want from your boxes, and get matters tidy and
+comfortable. In the first place, it will do you good to be busy; and in
+the second place, there is nothing like getting everything shipshape in
+the cabin the very first thing after starting, then you are ready for
+rough weather or anything else that may occur. I have got you a chair.
+I thought that very likely you would not think of it, and a passenger
+without a chair of her own is a most forlorn creature, I can tell you.
+When you have done down below you will find me somewhere aft; if you
+should not do so, look out for a chair with your own name on it and take
+possession of it, but I think you are sure to see me.”
+
+Before they had been a fortnight at sea Isobel came to like the Doctor
+thoroughly. He knew many of the passengers on board the Byculla, and she
+had soon many acquaintances. She was amused at the description that the
+Doctor gave her of some of the people to whom he introduced her.
+
+“I am going to introduce you to that woman in the severely plain cloak
+and ugly bonnet. She is the wife of the Resident of Rajputana. I knew
+her when her husband was a Collector.”
+
+“A Collector, Dr. Wade; what did he collect?”
+
+“Well, my dear, he didn’t collect taxes or water rates or anything
+of that sort. A Collector is a civil functionary, and frequently
+an important one. I used to attend her at one time when we were in
+cantonments at Bhurtpore, where her husband was stationed at that time.
+I pulled a tooth out for her once, and she halloaed louder than any
+woman I ever heard. I don’t mean to say, my dear, that woman holloa any
+louder than men; on the contrary, they bear pain a good deal better,
+but she was an exception. She was twelve years younger then, and used
+to dress a good deal more than she does now. That cloak and bonnet are
+meant to convey to the rest of the passengers the fact that there is no
+occasion whatever for a person of her importance to attend to such petty
+matters as dress.
+
+“She never mentions her husband’s name without saying, ‘My husband, the
+Resident,’ but for all that she is a kind hearted woman--a very kind
+hearted woman. I pulled a child of hers through who was down with
+fever at Bhurtpore; he had a very close shave of it, and she has never
+forgotten it. She greeted me when she came on board almost with tears
+in her eyes at the thought of that time. I told her I had a young lady
+under my charge, and she said that she would be very pleased to do
+anything she could for you. She is a stanch friend is Mrs. Resident, and
+you will find her useful before you get to the end of the voyage.”
+
+The lady received Isobel with genuine kindness, and took her very much
+under her wing during the voyage, and Isobel received no small advantage
+from her advice and protection.
+
+Her own good sense, however, and the earnest life she had led at school
+and with her brother at home, would have sufficed her even without
+this guardianship and that of the Doctor. There was a straightforward
+frankness about her that kept men from talking nonsense to her. A
+compliment she simply laughed at, an attempt at flattery made her
+angry, and the Doctor afterwards declared to her uncle he would not have
+believed that the guardianship of a girl upon the long Indian voyage
+could possibly have caused him so little trouble and annoyance.
+
+“When I read your letter, Major, my hair stood on end, and if my leave
+had not been up I should have canceled my passage and come by the next
+ship; and indeed when I went down to see her I had still by no means
+made up my mind as to whether I would not take my chance of getting out
+in time by the next vessel. However, I liked her appearance, and, as
+I have said, it turned out excellently, and I should not mind making
+another voyage in charge of her.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Two days after his arrival at Cawnpore Dr. Wade moved into quarters of
+his own.
+
+“I like Dr. Wade very much indeed, you know, uncle, still I am glad to
+have you all to myself and to settle down into regular ways.”
+
+“Yes, we have got to learn to know each other, Isobel.”
+
+“Do you think so, uncle? Why, it seems to me that I know all about you,
+just the same as if we had always been together, and I am sure I always
+told you all about myself, even when I was bad at school and got into
+scrapes, because you said particularly that you liked me to tell you
+everything, and did not want to know only the good side of me.”
+
+“Yes, that is so, my dear, and no doubt I have a fair idea as to what
+are your strong points and what are your weak ones, but neither one or
+the other affect greatly a person’s ordinary everyday character. It
+is the little things, the trifles, the way of talking, the way of
+listening, the amount of sympathy shown, and so on, that make a man
+or woman popular. People do not ask whether he or she may be morally
+sleeping volcanoes, who, if fairly roused, might slay a rival or burn
+a city; they simply look at the surface--is a man or a woman pleasant,
+agreeable, easily pleased, ready to take a share in making things go,
+to show a certain amount of sympathy in other people’s pleasures or
+troubles--in fact, to form a pleasant unit of the society of a station?
+
+“So in the house you might be the most angelic temper in the world, but
+if you wore creaky boots, had a habit of slamming doors, little tricks
+of giggling or fidgeting with your hands or feet, you would be an
+unpleasant companion, for you would be constantly irritating one in
+small matters. Of course, it is just the same thing with your opinion of
+me. You have an idea that I am a good enough sort of fellow, because I
+have done my best to enable you to carry out your plans and wishes, but
+that has nothing to do at all with my character as a man to live with.
+Till we saw each other, when you got out of the gharry, we really knew
+nothing whatever of each other.”
+
+Isobel shook her head decidedly.
+
+“Nothing will persuade me that I didn’t know everything about you,
+uncle. You are just exactly what I knew you would be in look, and voice,
+in manner and ways and everything. Of course, it is partly from what I
+remember, but I really did not see a great deal of you in those days; it
+is from your letters, I think, entirely that I knew all about you, and
+exactly what you were. Do you mean to say that I am not just what you
+thought I should be?”
+
+“Well, not so clearly as all that, Isobel. Of course you were only a
+little child when I saw you, and except that you had big brown eyes, and
+long eyelashes, I confess that it struck me that you were rather a
+plain little thing, and I do not think that your mother’s letters since
+conveyed to my mind the fact that there had been any material change
+since. Therefore I own that you are personally quite different from what
+I had expected to find you. I had expected to find you, I think, rather
+stumpy in figure, and square in build, with a very determined and
+businesslike manner.”
+
+“Nonsense, uncle, you could not have expected that.”
+
+“Well, my dear, I did, and you see I find I was utterly wrong.”
+
+“But you are not discontented, uncle?” Isobel asked, with a smile.
+
+“No, my dear, but perhaps not quite so contented as you may think I
+ought to be.”
+
+“Why is that, uncle?”
+
+“Well, my dear, if you had been what I had pictured you, I might have
+had you four or five years to myself. Possibly you might even have gone
+home with me, to keep house for me in England, when I retire. As it is
+now, I give myself six months at the outside.”
+
+“What nonsense, uncle! You don’t suppose I am going to fall in love with
+the first man who presents himself? Why, everyone says the sea voyage is
+a most trying time, and, you see, I came through that quite scathless.
+
+“Besides, uncle,” and she laughed, “there is safety in multitude, and
+I think that a girl would be far more likely to fall in love in some
+country place, where she only saw one or two men, than where there are
+numbers of them. Besides, it seems to me that in India a girl cannot
+feel that she is chosen, as it were, from among other girls, as she
+would do at home. There are so few girls, and so many men here, there
+must be a sort of feeling that you are only appreciated because there is
+nothing better to be had.
+
+“But, of course, uncle, you can understand that the idea of love making
+and marrying never entered my head at all until I went on board a
+ship. As you know, I always used to think that Robert and I would live
+together, and I am quite sure that I should never have left him if he
+had lived. If I had stopped in England I should have done the work I
+had trained myself to do, and it might have been years and years, and
+perhaps never, before anyone might have taken a fancy to me, or I to
+him. It seems strange, and I really don’t think pleasant, uncle, for
+everyone to take it for granted that because a girl comes out to India
+she is a candidate for marriage. I think it is degrading, uncle.”
+
+“The Doctor was telling me yesterday that you had some idea of that
+sort,” the Major said, with a slight smile, “and I think girls often
+start with that sort of idea. But it is like looking on at a game. You
+don’t feel interested in it until you begin to play at it. Well, the
+longer you entertain those ideas the better I shall be pleased, Isobel.
+I only hope that you may long remain of the same mind, and that when
+your time does come your choice will be a wise one.”
+
+There could be no doubt that the Major’s niece was a great success in
+the regiment. Richards and Wilson, two lads who had joined six months
+before, succumbed at once, and mutual animosity succeeded the close
+friendship they had hitherto entertained for each other. Travers, the
+Senior Captain, a man who had hitherto been noted for his indifference
+to the charms of female society, went so far as to admit that Miss
+Hannay was a very nice, unaffected girl. Mrs. Doolan was quite
+enthusiastic about her.
+
+“It is very lucky, Jim,” she said to her husband, “that you were a sober
+and respected married man before she came out, and that I am installed
+here as your lawful and wedded wife instead of being at Ballycrogin with
+only an engagement ring on my finger. I know your susceptible nature;
+you would have fallen in love with her, and she would not have had you,
+and we should both of us have been miserable.”
+
+“How do you know she wouldn’t have had me, Norah?”
+
+“Because, my dear, she will be able to pick and choose just where she
+likes; and though no one recognizes your virtues more than I do, a
+company in an Indian regiment is hardly as attractive as a Residency or
+Lieutenant Governorship. But seriously, she is a dear girl, and as yet
+does not seem to have the least idea how pretty she is. How cordially
+some of them will hate her! I anticipate great fun in looking on. I am
+out of all that sort of thing myself.”
+
+“That is news to me, Norah; I think you are just as fond of a quiet
+flirtation as you used to be.”
+
+“Just of a very little one, Jim; fortunately not more. So I can look
+on complacently; but even I have suffered. Why, for weeks not a day has
+passed without young Richards dropping in for a chat, and when he came
+in yesterday he could talk about nothing but Miss Hannay, until I shut
+him up by telling him it was extremely bad form to talk to one lady
+about another. The boy colored up till I almost laughed in his face; in
+fact, I believe I did laugh.”
+
+“That I will warrant you did, Norah.”
+
+“I could not help it, especially when he assured me he was perfectly
+serious about Miss Hannay.”
+
+“You did not encourage him, I hope, Norah.”
+
+“No; I told him the Colonel set his face against married subalterns, and
+that he would injure himself seriously in his profession if he were to
+think of such a thing, and as I knew he had nothing but his pay, that
+would be fatal to him.”
+
+Captain Doolan went off into a burst of laughter.
+
+“And he took it all in, Norah? He did not see that you were humbugging
+him altogether?”
+
+“Not a bit of it. They are very amusing, these boys, Jim. I was really
+quite sorry for Richards, but I told him he would get over it in time,
+for as far as I could learn you had been just as bad thirty-three times
+before I finally took pity on you, and that I only did it then because
+you were wearing away with your troubles. I advised him to put the best
+face he could on it, for that Miss Hannay would be the last person to be
+pleased, if he were to be going about with a face as long as if he had
+just come from his aunt’s funeral.”
+
+The race meeting came off three weeks after Miss Hannay arrived at
+Cawnpore. She had been to several dinners and parties by this time, and
+began to know most of the regular residents.
+
+The races served as an excuse for people to come in from all the
+stations round. Men came over from Lucknow, Agra, and Allahabad, and
+from many a little outlying station; every bungalow in the cantonment
+was filled with guests, and tents were erected for the accommodation of
+the overflow.
+
+Several of the officers of the 103d had horses and ponies entered in the
+various races. There was to be a dance at the club on the evening of the
+second day of the races, and a garden party at the General’s on that
+of the first. Richards and Wilson had both ponies entered for the
+race confined to country tats which had never won a race, and both had
+endeavored to find without success what was Isobel’s favorite color.
+
+“But you must have some favorite color?” Wilson urged.
+
+“Why must I, Mr. Wilson? One thing is suitable for one thing and one
+another, and I always like a color that is suitable for the occasion.”
+
+“But what color are you going to wear at the races, Miss Hannay?”
+
+“Well, you see, I have several dresses,” Isobel said gravely, “and I
+cannot say until the morning arrives which I may wear; it will depend a
+good deal how I feel. Besides, I might object to your wearing the same
+color as I do. You remember in the old times, knights, when they entered
+the lists, wore the favors that ladies had given them. Now I have no
+idea of giving you a favor. You have done nothing worthy of it. When
+you have won the Victoria Cross, and distinguished yourself by some
+extraordinarily gallant action, it will be quite time to think about
+it.”
+
+“You see one has to send one’s color in four days beforehand, in time
+for them to print it on the card,” the lad said; “and besides, one has
+to get a jacket and cap made.”
+
+“But you don’t reflect that it is quite possible your pony won’t win
+after all, and supposing that I had colors, I certainly should not like
+to see them come in last in the race. Mr. Richards has been asking me
+just the same thing, and, of course, I gave him the same answer. I can
+only give you the advice I gave him.”
+
+“What was that, Miss Hannay?” Wilson asked eagerly.
+
+“Well, you see, it is not very long since either of you left school, so
+I should think the best thing for you to wear are your school colors,
+whatever they were.”
+
+And with a merry laugh at his look of discomfiture, Isobel turned away
+and joined Mrs. Doolan and two or three other ladies who were sitting
+with her.
+
+“There is one comfort,” Mrs. Doolan was just saying, “in this country,
+when there is anything coming off, there is no occasion to be anxious as
+to the weather; one knows that it will be hot, fine, and dusty. One can
+wear one’s gayest dress without fear. In Ireland one never knew whether
+one wanted muslin or waterproof until the morning came, and even then
+one could not calculate with any certainty how it would be by twelve
+o’clock. This will be your first Indian festivity, Miss Hannay.”
+
+“Do the natives come much?”
+
+“I should think so! All Cawnpore will turn out, and we shall have the
+Lord of Bithoor and any number of Talookdars and Zemindars with their
+suites. A good many of them will have horses entered, and they have some
+good ones if they could but ride them. The Rajah of Bithoor is a most
+important personage. He talks English very well, and gives splendid
+entertainments. He is a most polite gentleman, and is always over here
+if there is anything going on. The general idea is that he has set his
+mind on having an English wife, the only difficulty being our objection
+to polygamy. He has every other advantage, and his wife would have
+jewels that a queen might envy.”
+
+Isobel laughed. “I don’t think jewels would count for much in my ideas
+of happiness.”
+
+“It is not so much the jewels, my dear, in themselves, but the envy they
+would excite in every other woman.”
+
+“I don’t think I can understand that feeling, Mrs. Doolan. I can
+understand that there might be a satisfaction in being envied for being
+the happiest woman, or the most tastefully dressed woman, or even the
+prettiest woman, though that after all is a mere accident, but not for
+having the greatest number of bright stones, however valuable. I don’t
+think the most lovely set of diamonds ever seen would give me as much
+satisfaction as a few choice flowers.”
+
+“Ah, but that is because you are quite young,” Mrs. Doolan said. “Eve
+was tempted by an apple, but Eve had not lived long. You see, an apple
+will tempt a child, and flowers a young girl. Diamonds are the bait of a
+woman.”
+
+“You would not care for diamonds yourself, Mrs. Doolan?”
+
+“I don’t know, my dear; the experiment was never tried--bog oak and
+Irish diamonds have been more in my line. Jim’s pay has never run to
+diamonds, worse luck, but he has promised me that if he ever gets a
+chance of looting the palace of a native prince he will keep a special
+lookout for them for me. So far he has never had the chance. When he was
+an ensign there was some hard fighting with the Sikhs, but nothing of
+that sort fell to his share. I often tell him that he took me under
+false pretenses altogether. I had visions of returning some day and
+astonishing Ballycrogin, as a sort of begum covered with diamonds; but
+as far as I can see the children are the only jewels that I am likely to
+take back.”
+
+“And very nice jewels too,” Isobel said heartily; “they are dear little
+things, Mrs. Doolan, and worth all the diamonds in the world. I hear,
+Mrs. Prothero, that your husband has a good chance of winning the race
+for Arabs; I intend to wager several pairs of gloves on his horse.”
+
+“Yes, Seila is very fast. She won last year. But Nana Sahib has had the
+horse that won the cup at Poona last year, and is considered one of the
+fastest in India, brought across from Bombay. Our only hope is that he
+will put a native up, and in that case we ought to have a fair chance,
+for the natives have no idea of riding a waiting race, but go off at
+full speed, and take it all out of their horse before the end of the
+race.”
+
+“Well, we must hope he will, Mrs. Prothero; that seems, from what I
+hear, the only chance there is of the regiment winning a prize. So all
+our sympathies will be with you.”
+
+“Hunter and his wife and their two girls are coming,” the Major said,
+the next morning, as he opened his letters.
+
+“Very well, uncle, then we will do as we arranged. The Miss Hunters
+shall have my room, and I will take the little passage room.”
+
+“I am afraid it will put you out, Isobel; but they have been here for
+the last two years at the race times and I did not like not asking them
+again.”
+
+“Of course, uncle. It will make no difference to me, and I don’t require
+any very great space to apparel myself.”
+
+“We must have dinners for twelve at least, the day before the races, and
+on the three days of the meeting.”
+
+Isobel looked alarmed. “I hope you don’t rely on me for the
+arrangements, uncle. At each of the four dinners we have been to I have
+done nothing but wonder how it was all done, and have been trembling
+over the thought that it would be our turn presently. It seemed a
+fearful responsibility; and four, one after the other, is an appalling
+prospect.”
+
+“Rumzan will see to it all, my dear. He has always managed very well
+before. I will talk it over with him; besides, these will not be like
+regular set dinner parties. At race meetings everyone keeps pretty
+nearly open house. One does not ask any of the people at the station;
+they have all their own visitors. One trusts to chance to fill up the
+table, and one never finds any difficulty about it. It is lucky I got up
+a regular stock of china, and so on, in anticipation of your coming.
+Of course, as a bachelor, I have not been a dinner giver, except on
+occasions like this, when nobody expects anything like state, and things
+are conducted to a certain extent in picnic fashion. I have paid off my
+dinner obligations by having men to mess or the club. However, I will
+consult Rumzan, and we will have a regular parade of our materials,
+and you shall inspect our resources. If there is anything in the way
+of flower vases or center dishes, or anything of that sort, you think
+requisite, we must get them. Jestonjee has got a good stock of all that
+sort of thing. As to tablecloths and napkins and so on, I had a supply
+with the china, so you will find that all right. Of course you will get
+plenty of flowers; they are the principal things, after all, towards
+making the table look well. You have had no experience in arranging
+them, I suppose?”
+
+“None at all, uncle; I never arranged a vase of flowers in my life.”
+
+“Then I tell you what you had better do, Isobel. You coax the Doctor
+into coming in and undertaking it. He is famous in that way. He always
+has the decoration of the mess table on grand occasions; and when we
+give a dance the flowers and decorations are left to him as a matter of
+course.”
+
+“I will ask him, uncle; but he is the last man in the world I should
+have thought of in connection with flowers and decorations.”
+
+“He is a many sided man, my dear; he paints excellently, and has
+wonderful taste in the way of dress. I can assure you that no lady in
+the regiment is quite satisfied with a new costume until it has received
+the stamp of the Doctor’s approval. When we were stationed at Delhi four
+years ago there was a fancy ball, and people who were judges of that
+sort of thing said that they had never seen so pretty a collection of
+dresses, and I should think fully half of them were manufactured from
+the Doctor’s sketches.”
+
+“I remember now,” Isobel laughed, “that he was very sarcastic on board
+ship as to the dresses of some of the people, but I thought it was only
+his way of grumbling at things in general, though certainly I generally
+agreed with him. He told me one day that my taste evidently inclined to
+the dowdy, but you see I wore half mourning until I arrived out here.”
+
+The Doctor himself dropped in an hour later.
+
+“I shall be glad, Doctor, if you will dine with us as often as you can
+during the four days of the races,” Major Hannay said. “Of course, I
+shall be doing the hospitable to people who come in from out stations,
+and as Isobel won’t know any of them, it will be a little trying to
+her, acting for the first time in the capacity of hostess. As you know
+everybody, you will be able to make things go. I have got Hunter and his
+wife and their two girls coming in to stay. I calculate the table will
+hold fourteen comfortably enough. At any rate, come first night, even if
+you can’t come on the others.”
+
+“Certainly I will, Major, if you will let me bring Bathurst in with me;
+he is going to stay with me for the races.”
+
+“By all means, Doctor; I like what I have seen of him very much.”
+
+“Yes, he has got a lot in him,” the Doctor said, “only he is always head
+over heels in work. He will make a big mark before he has done. He is
+one of the few men out here who has thoroughly mastered the language; he
+can talk to the natives like one of themselves, and understands them so
+thoroughly that they are absolutely afraid to lie to him, which is the
+highest compliment a native can pay to an Indian official. It is very
+seldom he comes in to this sort of thing, but I seized him the other
+day and told him that I could see he would break down if he didn’t give
+himself a holiday, and I fairly worried him into saying he would come
+over and stay for the races. I believe then he would not have come if I
+had not written to him that all the native swells would be here, and
+it would be an excellent opportunity for him to talk to them about
+the establishment of a school for the daughters of the upper class of
+natives; that is one of his fads at present.”
+
+“But it would be a good thing surely, Doctor,” Isobel said.
+
+“No doubt, my dear, no doubt; and so would scores of other things, if
+you could but persuade the natives so. But this is really one of the
+most impracticable schemes possible, simply because the whole of these
+unfortunate children get betrothed when they are two or three years
+old, and are married at twelve. Even if all parties were agreed, the
+husband’s relations and the wife’s relations and everyone else, what are
+you going to teach a child worth knowing before she gets to the age of
+twelve? Just enough to make her discontented with her lot. Once get the
+natives to alter their customs and to marry their women at the age of
+eighteen, and you may do something for them; but as long as they
+stick to this idiotic custom of marrying them off when they are still
+children, the case is hopeless.”
+
+“There is something I wanted to ask you, Doctor,” Isobel said. “You know
+this is the first time I have had anything to do with entertaining, and
+I know nothing about decorating a table. Uncle says that you are a great
+hand at the arrangement of flowers. Would you mind seeing to it for me?”
+
+The Doctor nodded. “With pleasure, Miss Hannay. It is a thing I enjoy.
+There is nothing more lamentable than to see the ignorant, and I may
+almost say brutal, way in which people bunch flowers up into great
+masses and call that decoration. They might just as well bunch up so
+many masses of bright colored rags. The shape of the flower, its manner
+of growth, and its individuality are altogether lost, and the sole
+effect produced is that of a confused mass of color. I will undertake
+that part of the business, and you had better leave the buying of the
+flowers to me.”
+
+“Certainly, Doctor,” the Major said; “I will give you carte blanche.”
+
+“Well, I must see your dinner service, Major, so that I may know about
+its color, and what you have got to put the flowers into.”
+
+“I will have a regular parade tomorrow morning after breakfast, if it
+would be convenient for you to look in then, and at the same time I will
+get you to have a talk with Rumzan and the cook. I am almost as new to
+giving dinner parties as Isobel is. When one has half a dozen men to
+dine with one at the club, one gives the butler notice and chooses
+the wine, and one knows that it will be all right; but it is a
+very different thing when you have to go into the details yourself.
+Ordinarily I leave it entirely to Rumzan and the cook, and I am bound to
+say they do very well, but this is a different matter.”
+
+“We will talk it over with them together, Major. You can seem to consult
+me, but it must come from you to them, or else you will be getting their
+backs up. Thank goodness, Indian servants don’t give themselves the airs
+English ones do; but human nature is a good deal the same everywhere,
+and the first great rule, if you want any domestic arrangements to go
+off well, is to keep the servants in good temper.”
+
+“We none of us like to be interfered with, Doctor.”
+
+“A wise man is always ready to be taught,” the Doctor said
+sententiously.
+
+“Well, there are exceptions, Doctor. I remember, soon after I joined, a
+man blew off two of his fingers. A young surgeon who was here wanted
+to amputate the hand; he was just going to set about it when a staff
+surgeon came in and said that it had better not be done, for that
+natives could not stand amputations. The young surgeon was very much
+annoyed. The staff surgeon went away next day. There was a good deal of
+inflammation, and the young surgeon decided to amputate. The man never
+rallied from the operation, and died next day.”
+
+“I said, Major, that a wise man was always ready to listen to good
+advice. I was not a wise man in those days--I was a pig headed young
+fool. I thought I knew all about it, and I was quite right according
+to my experience in London hospitals. In the case of an Englishman, the
+hand would have been amputated, and the man would have been all right
+three weeks afterwards. But I knew nothing about these soft hearted
+Hindoos, and never dreamt that an operation which would be a trifle to
+an Englishman would be fatal to one of them, and that simply because,
+although they are plucky enough in some respects, they have no more
+heart than a mouse when anything is the matter with them. Yes, if it
+hadn’t been for the old Colonel, who gave me a private hint to say
+nothing about the affair, but merely to put down in my report, ‘Died
+from the effect of a gunshot wound,’ I should have got into a deuce of a
+scrape over that affair. As it was, it only cost me a hundred rupees
+to satisfy the man’s family and send them back to their native village.
+That was for years a standing joke against me, Miss Hannay; except your
+uncle and the Colonel, there is no one left in the regiment who was
+there, but it was a sore subject for a long time. Still, no doubt, it
+was a useful lesson, and my rule has been ever since, never amputate
+except as a forlorn hope, and even then don’t amputate, for if you do
+the relatives of the man, as far as his fourth cousins, will inevitably
+regard you as his murderer. Well, I must be off; I will look in tomorrow
+morning, Major, and make an inspection of your resources.”
+
+“I am glad to see the Hunters are going to bring over their carriage,”
+ the Major said, two days later, as he looked through a letter. “I am
+very glad of that, for I put it off till too late. I have been trying
+everywhere for the last two days to hire one, but they are all engaged,
+and have been so for weeks, I hear. I was wondering what I should do,
+for my buggy will only hold two. I was thinking of asking Mrs. Doolan if
+she could take one of the Miss Hunters, and should have tried to find a
+place for the other. But this settles it all comfortably. They are going
+to send on their own horses halfway the day before, and hire native
+ponies for the first half. They have a good large family vehicle; I
+hoped that they would bring it, but, of course, I could not trust to
+it.”
+
+The Doctor presently dropped in with Captain Doolan. After chatting for
+some time the former said, “I have had the satisfaction this morning,
+Miss Hannay, of relieving Mrs. Cromarty’s mind of a great burden.”
+
+“How was that, Doctor?”
+
+“It was in relation to you, my dear.”
+
+“Me, Doctor! how could I have been a weight on Mrs. Cromarty’s mind?”
+
+“She sent for me under the pretense of being feverish; said she had a
+headache, and so on. Her pulse was all right, and I told her at once I
+did not think there was much the matter with her; but I recommended her
+to keep out of the sun for two days. Then she begun a chat about the
+station. She knows that, somehow or other, I generally hear all that is
+going on. I wondered what was coming, till she said casually, ‘Do you
+know what arrangement Major Hannay has made as to his niece for the
+races?’ I said, of course, that the Hunters were coming over to stay.
+I could see at once that her spirit was instantly relieved of a heavy
+burden, but she only said, ‘Of course, then, that settles the question.
+I had intended to send across to her this morning, to ask if she would
+like a seat in my carriage; having no lady with her, she could not very
+well have gone to the races alone. Naturally, I should have been very
+pleased to have had her with us. However, as Mrs. Hunter will be staying
+at the Major’s, and will act as her chaperon, the matter is settled.’”
+
+“Well, I think it was very kind of her thinking of it,” Isobel said,
+“and I don’t think it is nice of you, Doctor, to say that it was an
+evident relief to her when she found I had someone else to take care of
+me. Why should it have been a relief?”
+
+“I have no doubt it has weighed on her mind for the last fortnight,” the
+Doctor said; “she must have seen that as you were freshly joined, and
+the only unmarried girl in the regiment, except her own daughters, it
+was only the proper thing she should offer you a seat in her carriage.
+No doubt she decided to put it off as late as possible, in hopes that
+you might make some other arrangement. Had you not done so, she might
+have done the heroic thing and invited you, though I am by no means sure
+of it. Of course, now she will say the first time she meets you that she
+was quite disappointed at having heard from me that Mrs. Hunter would
+be with you, as she had hoped to have the pleasure of having you in her
+carriage with her.”
+
+“But why shouldn’t she like it?” Isobel said indignantly. “Surely I am
+not as disagreeable as all that! Come, Doctor!”
+
+Captain Doolan laughed, while the Doctor said, “It is just the contrary,
+my dear; I am quite sure that if you were in Mrs. Cromarty’s place,
+and had two tall, washed out looking daughters, you would not feel the
+slightest desire to place Miss Hannay in the same carriage with them.”
+
+“I call that very disagreeable of you, Doctor,” Isobel said, flushing,
+“and I shall not like you at all if you take such unkind and malicious
+views of people. I don’t suppose such an idea ever entered into Mrs.
+Cromarty’s head, and even if it did, it makes it all the kinder that she
+should think of offering me a seat. I do think most men seem to consider
+that women think of nothing but looks, and that girls are always trying
+to attract men, and mothers always thinking of getting their daughters
+married. It is not at all nice, Doctor, to have such ideas, and I shall
+thank Mrs. Cromarty warmly, when I see her, for her kindness in thinking
+about me.”
+
+Accordingly, that afternoon, when they met at the usual hour, when the
+band was playing, Isobel went up to the Colonel’s wife.
+
+“I want to thank you, Mrs. Cromarty. Dr. Wade has told me that you had
+intended to offer me a seat in your carriage to the races. It was very
+kind and nice of you to think of me, and I am very much obliged to you.
+I should have enjoyed it very much if it hadn’t been that Mrs. Hunter
+is coming to stay with us, and, of course, I shall be under her wing.
+Still, I am just as much obliged to you for having thought of it.”
+
+Mrs. Cromarty was pleased with the girl’s warmth and manner, and
+afterwards mentioned to several of her friends that she thought that
+Miss Hannay seemed a very nice young woman.
+
+“I was not quite favorably impressed at first,” she admitted. “She has
+the misfortune of being a little brusque in her manner, but, of course,
+her position is a difficult one, being alone out here, without any
+lady with her, and no doubt she feels it so. She was quite touchingly
+grateful, only because I offered her a seat in our carriage for the
+races, though she was unable to accept it, as the Major will have the
+Hunters staying with him.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+The clubhouse at Cawnpore was crowded on the evening before the races.
+Up to eleven o’clock it had been comparatively deserted, for there was
+scarcely a bungalow in the station at which dinner parties were not
+going on; but, after eleven, the gentlemen for the most part adjourned
+to the club for a smoke, a rubber, or a game of billiards, or to chat
+over the racing events of the next day.
+
+Loud greetings were exchanged as each fresh contingent arrived, for many
+newcomers had come into the station only that afternoon. Every table in
+the whist room was occupied, black pool was being played in the billiard
+room upstairs, where most of the younger men were gathered, while the
+elders smoked and talked in the rooms below.
+
+“What will you do, Bathurst?” the Doctor asked his guest, after
+the party from the Major’s had been chatting for some little time
+downstairs. “Would you like to cut in at a rubber or take a ball at
+pool?”
+
+“Neither, Doctor; they are both accomplishments beyond me; I have not
+patience for whist, and I can’t play billiards in the least. I have
+tried over and over again, but I am too nervous, I fancy; I break down
+over the easiest stroke--in fact, an easy stroke is harder for me than
+a difficult one. I know I ought to make it, and just for that reason, I
+suppose, I don’t.”
+
+“You don’t give one the idea of a nervous man, either, Bathurst.”
+
+“Well, I am, Doctor, constitutionally, indeed terribly so.”
+
+“Not in business matters, anyhow,” the Doctor said, with a smile. “You
+have the reputation of not minding in the slightest what responsibility
+you take upon yourself, and of carrying out what you undertake in the
+most resolute, I won’t say high handed, manner.”
+
+“No, it doesn’t come in there,” Bathurst laughed. “Morally I am not
+nervous so far as I know, physically I am. I would give a great deal if
+I could get over it, but, as I have said, it is constitutional.”
+
+“Not on your father’s side, Bathurst. I knew him well, and he was a very
+gallant officer.”
+
+“No, it was the other side,” Bathurst said; “I will tell you about it
+some day.”
+
+At this moment another friend of Bathurst’s came up and entered into
+conversation with him.
+
+“Well, I will go upstairs to the billiard room,” the Doctor said; “and
+you will find me there, Bathurst, whenever you feel disposed to go.”
+
+A pool had just finished when the Doctor entered the billiard room.
+
+“That is right, Doctor, you are just in time,” Prothero said, as he
+entered. “Sinclair has given up his cue; he is going to ride tomorrow,
+and is afraid of shaking his nerves; you must come and play for the
+honor of the corps. I am being ruined altogether, and Doolan has retired
+discomfited.”
+
+“I have not touched a cue since I went away,” the Doctor said, “but I
+don’t mind adding to the list of victims. Who are the winners?”
+
+“Messenger and Jarvis have been carrying all before them; there is a
+report they have just sent off two club waiters, with loads of rupees,
+to their quarters. Scarsdale has been pretty well holding his own, but
+the rest of us are nowhere.”
+
+A year’s want of practice, however, told, and the Doctor was added to
+the list of victims: he had no difficulty in getting someone else to
+take his cue after playing for half an hour.
+
+“It shows that practice is required for everything,” he said; “before
+I went away I could have given each of those men a life, now they could
+give me two; I must devote half an hour a day to it till I get it back
+again.”
+
+“And you shall give me a lesson, Doctor,” Captain Doolan, who had also
+retired, said.
+
+“It would be time thrown away by both of us, Doolan. You would never
+make a pool player if you were to practice all your life. It is not the
+eye that is wrong, but the temperament. You can make a very good shot
+now and then, but you are too harum scarum and slap dash altogether.
+The art of playing pool is the art of placing yourself; while, when you
+strike, you have not the faintest idea where your ball is going to,
+and you are just as likely to run in yourself as you are to pot your
+adversary. I should abjure it if I were you, Doolan; it is too expensive
+a luxury for you to indulge in.”
+
+“You are right there, Doctor; only what is a man to do when fellows say,
+‘We want you to make up a pool, Doolan’?”
+
+“I should say the reply would be quite simple. I should answer, ‘I am
+ready enough to play if any of you are ready to pay my losses and take
+my winnings; I am tired of being as good as an annuity to you all,’
+for that is what you have been for the last ten years. Why, it would be
+cheaper for you to send home to England for skittles, and get a ground
+up here.”
+
+“But I don’t play so very badly, Doctor.”
+
+“If you play badly enough always to lose, it doesn’t matter as to the
+precise degree of badness,” the Doctor retorted. “It is not surprising.
+When you came out here, fourteen or fifteen years ago, boys did not
+take to playing billiards, but they do now. Look at that little villain,
+Richards. He has just cleared the table, and done it with all the
+coolness of a professional marker. The young scoundrel ought to have
+been in bed two hours ago, for I hear that tat of his is really a good
+one. Not that it will make any difference to him. That sort of boy would
+play billiards till the first bugle sounds in the morning, and have a
+wash and turn out as fresh as paint, but it won’t last, Doolan, not in
+this climate; his cheeks will have fallen in and he will have crow’s
+feet at the corners of his eyes before another year has gone over. I
+like that other boy, Wilson, better. Of course he is a cub as yet, but
+I should say there is good in him. Just at present I can see he is
+beginning to fancy himself in love with Miss Hannay. That will do him
+good; it is always an advantage to a lad like that to have a good honest
+liking for a nice girl. Of course it comes to nothing, and for a time he
+imagines himself the most unhappy of mortals, but it does him good for
+all that; fellows are far less likely to get into mischief and go to the
+bad after an affair of that sort. It gives him a high ideal, and if he
+is worth anything he will try to make himself worthy of her, and the
+good it does him will continue even after the charm is broken.”
+
+“What a fellow you are, Doctor,” Captain Doolan said, looking down upon
+his companion, “talking away like that in the middle of this racket,
+which would be enough to bother Saint Patrick himself!”
+
+“Well, come along downstairs, Doolan; we will have a final peg and then
+be off; I expect Bathurst is beginning to fidget before now.”
+
+“It will do him good,” Captain Doolan said disdainfully. “I have no
+patience with a man who is forever working himself to death, riding
+about the country as if Old Nick were behind him, and never giving
+himself a minute for diversion of any kind. Faith, I would rather throw
+myself down a well and have done with it, than work ten times as hard as
+a black nigger.”
+
+“Well, I don’t think, Doolan,” the Doctor said dryly, “you are ever
+likely to be driven to suicide by any such cause.”
+
+“You are right there, Doctor,” the other said contentedly. “No man can
+throw it in my teeth that I ever worked when I had no occasion to work.
+If there were a campaign, I expect I could do my share with the best of
+them, but in quiet times I just do what I have to do, and if anyone has
+an anxiety to take my place in the rota for duty, he is as welcome to
+it as the flowers of May. I had my share of it when I was a subaltern;
+there is no better fellow living than the Major, but when he was Captain
+of my company he used to keep me on the run by the hour together, till I
+wished myself back in Connaught, and anyone who liked it might have had
+the whole of India for anything I cared; he was one of the most uneasy
+creatures I ever came across.”
+
+“The Major is a good officer, Doolan, and you were as lazy a youngster,
+and as hard a bargain, as the Company ever got. You ought to thank
+your stars that you had the good luck in having a Captain who knew
+his business, and made you learn yours. Why, if you had had a man like
+Rintoul as your Captain, you would never have been worth your salt.”
+
+“You are not complimentary, Doctor; but then nobody looks for
+compliments from you.”
+
+“I can pay compliments if I have a chance,” the Doctor retorted, “but
+it is very seldom I get one of doing so--at least, without lying. Well,
+Bathurst, are you ready to turn in?”
+
+“Quite ready, Doctor; that is one of the advantages of not caring for
+races; the merits and demerits of the horses that run tomorrow do not in
+the slightest degree affect me, and even the news that all the favorites
+had gone wrong would not deprive me of an hour’s sleep.”
+
+“I think it a good thing to take an interest in racing, Bathurst. Take
+men as a whole: out here they work hard--some of them work tremendously
+hard--and unless they get some change to their thoughts, some sort of
+recreation, nineteen out of twenty will break down sooner or later. If
+they don’t they become mere machines. Every man ought to have some sort
+of hobby; he need not ride it to death, but he wants to take some sort
+of interest in it. I don’t care whether he takes to pig sticking, or
+racing, or shooting, or whether he goes in for what I may call the
+milder kinds of relaxation, such as dining out, billiards, whist, or
+even general philandering. Anything is better than nothing--anything
+that will take his mind off his work. As far as I can see, you don’t do
+anything.”
+
+“Therefore I shall either break down or become a machine, Doctor?”
+
+“One or the other certainly, Bathurst. You may smile, but I mean what I
+say. I have seen other young fellows just as full of work and enthusiasm
+as you are, but I have never seen an exception to the rule, unless, of
+course, they took up something so as to give their minds a rest.”
+
+“The Doctor has just been scolding me because I am not fond enough of
+work,” Captain Doolan laughed.
+
+“You are differently placed, Doolan,” the Doctor said. “You have got
+plenty of enthusiasm in your nature--most Irishmen have--but you have
+had nothing to stir it. Life in a native regiment in India is an easy
+one. Your duties are over in two or three hours out of the twenty-four,
+whereas the work of a civilian in a large district literally never
+ends, unless he puts a resolute stop to it. What with seeing people
+from morning until night, and riding about and listening to complaints,
+every hour of the day is occupied, and then at night there are reports
+to write and documents of all sorts to go through. It is a great pity
+that there cannot be a better division of work, though I own I don’t
+see how it is to be managed.”
+
+By this time they were walking towards the lines.
+
+“I should not mind taking a share of the civil work at the station,”
+Captain Doolan said, “if they would make our pay a little more like
+that of the civilians.”
+
+“There is something in that, Doolan,” the Doctor agreed; “it is just
+as hard work having nothing to do as it is having too much; and I
+have always been of opinion that the tremendous disproportion between
+the pay of a military man and of a civilian of the same age is simply
+monstrous. Well, goodnight, Doolan; I hope you will tell Mrs. Doolan
+that the credit is entirely due to me that you are home at the
+reasonable hour of one o’clock, instead of dropping in just in time to
+change for parade.”
+
+“A good fellow,” the Doctor said, as he walked on with Bathurst; “he
+would never set the Thames on fire; but he is an honest, kindly fellow.
+He would make a capital officer if he were on service. His marriage
+has been an excellent thing for him. He had nothing to do before but
+to pass away his time in the club or mess house, and drink more than
+was good for him. But he has pulled himself round altogether since he
+married. His wife is a bright, clever little woman, and knows how to
+make the house happy for him; if he had married a lackadaisical sort of
+a woman, the betting is he would have gone to the bad altogether.”
+
+“I only met him once or twice before,” Bathurst said. “You see I am not
+here very often, and when I am it is only on business, so I know a very
+few people here except those I have to deal with, and by the time I
+have got through my business I am generally so thoroughly out of temper
+with the pig headed stupidity and obstinacy of people in general, that
+I get into my buggy and drive straight away.”
+
+“I fancy you irritate them as much as they irritate you, Bathurst.
+Well, here we are; now we will have a quiet cheroot and a peg, to quiet
+our nerves after all that din, before we turn in. Let us get off our
+coats and collars, and make ourselves comfortable; it is a proof of the
+bestial stupidity of mankind that they should wear such abominations as
+dress clothes in a climate like this. Here, boy, light the candles and
+bring two sodas and brandies.”
+
+“Well, Bathurst,” he went on, when they had made themselves comfortable
+in two lounging chairs, “what do you thing of Miss Hannay?”
+
+“I was prepared to admire her, Doctor, from what you said; it is not
+very often that you overpraise things; but she is a charming girl, very
+pretty and bright, frank and natural.”
+
+“She is all that,” the Doctor said. “We were four months on the
+voyage out, and I saw enough of her in that time to know her pretty
+thoroughly.”
+
+“What puzzles me about her,” Bathurst said, “is that I seemed to know
+her face. Where I saw her, and under what circumstances, I have been
+puzzling myself half the evening to recall, but I have the strongest
+conviction that I have met her.”
+
+“You are dreaming, man. You have been out here eight years; she was a
+child of ten when you left England! You certainly have not seen her, and
+as I know pretty well every woman who has been in this station for
+the last five or six years, I can answer for it that you have not seen
+anyone in the slightest degree resembling her.”
+
+“That is what I have been saying to myself, Doctor, but that does not in
+the slightest degree shake my conviction about it.”
+
+“Then you must have dreamt it,” the Doctor said decidedly. “Some fool
+of a poet has said, ‘Visions of love cast their shadows before,’ or
+something of that sort, which of course is a lie; still, that is the
+only way that I can account for it.”
+
+Bathurst smiled faintly. “I don’t think the quotation is quite right,
+Doctor; anyhow, I am convinced that the impression is far too vivid to
+have been the result of a dream.”
+
+“By the way, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, suddenly changing his
+conversation, “what do you think of this talk we hear about chupaties
+being sent round among the native troops, and the talk about greased
+cartridges. You see more of the natives than anyone I know; do you think
+there is anything brewing in the air?”
+
+“If there is, Doctor, I am certain it is not known to the natives in
+general. I see no change whatever in their manner, and I am sure I know
+them well enough to notice any change if it existed. I know nothing
+about the Sepoys, but Garnet tells me that the Company at Deennugghur
+give him nothing to complain of, though they don’t obey orders as
+smartly as usual, and they have a. sullen air as they go about their
+work.”
+
+“I don’t like it, Bathurst. I do not understand what the chupaties mean,
+but I know that there is a sort of tradition that the sending of
+them round has always preceded trouble. The Sepoys have no reason for
+discontent, but there has been no active service lately, and idleness
+is always bad for men. I can’t believe there is any widespread
+dissatisfaction among them, but there is no doubt whatever that if there
+is, and it breaks out, the position will be a very serious one. There
+are not half enough white troops in India, and the Sepoys may well think
+that they are masters of the situation. It would be a terrible time for
+everyone in India if they did take it into their heads to rise.”
+
+“I can’t believe they would be mad enough to do that, Doctor; they have
+everything to lose by it, and nothing to gain, that is, individually;
+and we should be sure to win in the long run, even if we had to conquer
+back India foot by foot.”
+
+“That is all very well, Bathurst; we may know that we could do it, but
+they don’t know it. They are ignorant altogether of the forces we could
+put into the field were there a necessity to make the effort. They
+naturally suppose that we can have but a few soldiers, for in all
+the battles we have fought there have always been two or three Sepoy
+regiments to one English. Besides, they consider themselves fully a
+match for us. They have fought by us side by side in every battlefield
+in India, and have done as well as we have. I don’t see what they should
+rise for. I don’t even see whose interest it is to bring a rising about,
+but I do know that if they rise we shall have a terrible time of it.
+Now I think we may as well turn in. You won’t take another peg? Well,
+I shall see you in the morning. I shall be at the hospital by half past
+six, and shall be in at half past eight to breakfast. You have only got
+to shout for my man, and tell him whether you will have tea, coffee, or
+chocolate, any time you wake.”
+
+“I shall be about by six, Doctor; five is my general hour, but as it is
+past one now I dare say I shall be able to sleep on for an hour later,
+especially as there is nothing to do.”
+
+“You can go round the hospital with me, if you like,” the Doctor said,
+“if you will promise not to make a dozen suggestions for the improvement
+of things in general.”
+
+Isobel Hannay came down to breakfast in high spirits upon the morning of
+the races. The dinner had gone off excellently. The dinner table, with
+its softly shaded lamps, and the Doctor’s arrangements of the flowers,
+had been, she thought, perfection, and everything had passed off without
+a hitch. Her duties as a hostess had been much lighter than she had
+anticipated. Mrs. Hunter was a very pleasant, motherly woman, and the
+girls, who had only come out from England four months before, were fresh
+and unaffected, and the other people had all been pleasant and chatty.
+
+Altogether, she felt that her first dinner party had been a great
+success.
+
+She was looking forward now with pleasant anticipation to the day. She
+had seen but little of the natives so far, and she was now to see them
+at their best. Then she had never been present at a race, and everything
+would be new and exciting.
+
+“Well, uncle, what time did you get in?” she asked, as she stepped out
+into the veranda to meet him on his return from early parade. “It was
+too bad of you and Mr. Hunter running off instead of waiting to chat
+things over.”
+
+“I have no doubt you ladies did plenty of that, my dear.”
+
+“Indeed, we didn’t, uncle; you see they had had a very long drive, and
+Mrs. Hunter insisted on the girls going to bed directly you all went
+out, and as I could not sit up by myself, I had to go too.”
+
+“We were in at half past twelve,” the Major said. “I can stand a good
+deal of smoke, but the club atmosphere was too thick for me.”
+
+“Everything went off very well yesterday, didn’t it?” she asked.
+
+“Very well, I thought, my dear, thanks to you and the Doctor and
+Rumzan.”
+
+“I had very little to do with it,” she laughed.
+
+“Well, I don’t think you had much to do with the absolute arrangements,
+Isobel, but I thought you did very well as hostess; it seemed to me that
+there was a good deal of laughing and fun at your end of the table.”
+
+“Yes; you see we had the two Miss Hunters and the Doctor there, and Mr.
+Gregson, who took me in, turned out a very merry old gentleman.”
+
+“He would not be pleased if he heard you call him old, Isobel.”
+
+“Well, of course he is not absolutely old, but being a commissioner, and
+all that sort of thing, gives one the idea of being old; but there are
+the others.”
+
+And they went into the breakfast room.
+
+The first race was set for two o’clock, and at half past one Mrs.
+Hunter’s carriage, with the four ladies, arrived at the inclosure. The
+horses were taken out, and the carriage wheeled into its place, and then
+Isobel and the two Miss Hunters prepared to enjoy the scene.
+
+It was a very gay one. The course was at present covered with a throng
+of natives in their bright colored garments, and mixed with them were
+the scarlet uniforms of the Sepoys of the 103d and other regiments.
+On the opposite side were a number of native vehicles of various
+descriptions, and some elephants with painted faces and gorgeous
+trappings, and with howdahs shaded by pavilions glittering with gilt and
+silver.
+
+On either side of their vehicle a long line of carriages was soon formed
+up, and among these were several occupied by gayly dressed natives,
+whose rank gave them an entrance to the privileged inclosure. The
+carriages were placed three or four yards back from the rail, and the
+intervening space was filled with civilian and military officers, in
+white or light attire, and with pith helmet or puggaree; many others
+were on horseback behind the carriages.
+
+“It is a bright scene, Miss Hannay,” the Doctor said, coming up to the
+carriage.
+
+“Wonderfully pretty, Doctor!”
+
+“An English race course doesn’t do after this, I can tell you. I went
+down to the Derby when I was at home, and such an assembly of riff raff
+I never saw before and never wish to see again.”
+
+“These people are more picturesque, Dr. Wade,” Mrs. Hunter said, “but
+that is merely a question of garment; these people perhaps are no more
+trustworthy than those you met on the racecourse at home.”
+
+“I was speaking of them purely as a spectacle; individually I have no
+doubt one would be safer among the English roughs and betting men than
+among these placid looking natives. The one would pick your pockets of
+every penny you have got if they had the chance, the other would cut
+your throat with just as little compunction.”
+
+“You don’t really mean that, Dr. Wade?” Isobel said.
+
+“I do indeed, Miss Hannay; the Oude men are notorious brawlers and
+fighters, and I should say that the roughs of Cawnpore and Lucknow could
+give long odds to those of any European city, and three out of four of
+those men you see walking about there would not only cut the throat of a
+European to obtain what money he had about him, but would do so without
+that incentive, upon the simple ground that he hated us.”
+
+“But why should he hate us, Doctor? he is none the worse off now than he
+was before we annexed the country.”
+
+“Well, yes, that class of man is worse off. In the old days every noble
+and Zemindar kept up a little army for the purpose of fighting his
+neighbors, just as our Barons used to do in the happy olden times people
+talk of. We have put down private fighting, and the consequence is these
+men’s occupations are gone, and they flock to great towns and there live
+as best they can, ready to commit any crime whatever for the sum of a
+few rupees.
+
+“There is Nana Sahib.”
+
+Isobel looked round and saw a carriage with a magnificent pair of
+horses, in harness almost covered with silver ornaments, drive up to a
+place that had been kept vacant for it. Four natives were sitting in it.
+
+“That is the Rajah,” the Doctor said, “the farther man, with that
+aigrette of diamonds in his turban. He is Oriental today, but sometimes
+he affects English fashions. He is a very cheery fellow, he keeps pretty
+well open house at Bithoor, has a billiard table, and a first rate
+cellar of wine, carriages for the use of guests--in fact, he does the
+thing really handsomely.”
+
+“Here is my opera glass,” Mrs. Hunter said. Isobel looked long and
+fixedly at the Rajah.
+
+“Well, what do you think of him?” the Doctor asked as she lowered it.
+
+“I do not know what to think of him,” she said; “his face does not
+tell me anything, it is like looking at a mask; but you see I am not
+accustomed to read brown men’s characters, they are so different from
+Europeans, their faces all seem so impassive. I suppose it is the way in
+which they are brought up and trained.”
+
+“Ages of tyranny have made them supple and deceitful,” the Doctor
+said, “but of course less so here than among the Bengallies, who, being
+naturally unwarlike and cowardly, have always been the slaves of some
+master or other.
+
+“You evidently don’t like the Nana, Miss Hannay. I am rather glad you
+don’t, for he is no great favorite of mine, though he is so generally
+popular in the station here. I don’t like him because it is not natural
+that he should be so friendly with us. We undoubtedly, according to
+native notions, robbed him of one of the finest positions in India
+by refusing to acknowledge his adoption. We have given him a princely
+revenue, but that, after all, is a mere trifle to what he would have had
+as Peishwa. Whatever virtues the natives of this country possess, the
+forgiving of injuries is not among them, and therefore I consider it
+to be altogether unnatural that he, having been, as he at any rate and
+everyone round him must consider, foully wronged, should go out of his
+way to affect our society and declare the warmest friendship for us.”
+
+The Rajah was laughing and talking with General Wheeler and the group of
+officers round his carriage.
+
+Again Isobel raised the glasses. “You are right, Doctor,” she said, “I
+don’t like him.”
+
+“Well, there is one comfort, it doesn’t matter whether he is sincere
+or not, he is powerless to hurt us. I don’t see any motive for his
+pretending to be friendly if he is not, but I own that I should like him
+better if he sulked and would have nothing to say to us, as would be the
+natural course.”
+
+The bell now began to ring, and the native police cleared the course.
+Major Hannay and Mr. Hunter, who had driven over in the buggy, came up
+and took their places on the box of the carriage.
+
+“Here are cards of the races,” he said. “Now is the time, young ladies,
+to make your bets.”
+
+“I don’t know even the name of anyone in this first race,” Isobel said,
+looking at the card.
+
+“That doesn’t matter in the least, Miss Hannay,” Wilson, who had just
+come up to the side of the carriage, said. “There are six horses in; you
+pick out any one you like, and I will lay you five pairs of gloves to
+one against him.”
+
+“But how am I to pick out when I don’t know anything about them, Mr.
+Wilson? I might pick out one that had no chance at all.”
+
+“Yes; but you might pick out the favorite, Miss Hannay, so that it is
+quite fair.”
+
+“Don’t you bet, Isobel,” her uncle said. “Let us have a sweepstake
+instead.”
+
+“What is a sweepstake, uncle?”
+
+There was a general laugh.
+
+“Well, my dear, we each put in a rupee. There are six of us, and there
+are Wilson and the Doctor. You will go in, Doctor, won’t you?”
+
+“Yes; I don’t mind throwing away a rupee, Major.”
+
+“Very well, that makes eight. We put eight pieces of paper in the hat.
+Six of them have got the names of the horses on, the other two are
+blank. Then we each pull out one. Whoever draws the name of the horse
+that wins takes five rupees, the holder of the second two, and the third
+saves his stake. You shall hold the stakes, Mrs. Hunter. We have all
+confidence in you.”
+
+The slips were drawn.
+
+“My horse is Bruce,” Isobel said.
+
+“There he is, Miss Hannay,” Wilson, who had drawn a blank, said, as
+a horse whose rider had a straw colored jacket and cap came cantering
+along the course. “This is a race for country horses--owners up.
+That means ridden by their owners. That is Pearson of the 13th Native
+Cavalry. He brought the horse over from Lucknow.”
+
+“What chance has he?”
+
+“I have not the least idea, Miss Hannay. I did not hear any betting on
+this race at all.”
+
+“That is a nice horse, uncle,” Isobel said, as one with a rider in black
+jacket, with red cap, came past.
+
+“That is Delhi. Yes, it has good action.”
+
+“That is mine,” the eldest Miss Hunter said.
+
+“The rider is a good looking young fellow,” the Doctor said, “and is
+perfectly conscious of it himself. Who is he, Wilson? I don’t know him.”
+
+“He is a civilian. Belongs to the public works, I think.”
+
+The other horses now came along, and after short preliminary canters the
+start was made. To Isobel’s disappointment her horse was never in the
+race, which Delhi looked like winning until near the post, when a rather
+common looking horse, which had been lying a short distance behind him,
+came up with a rush and won by a length.
+
+“I don’t call that fair,” Miss Hunter said, “when the other was first
+all along. I call that a mean way of winning, don’t you, father?”
+
+“Well, no, my dear. It was easy to see for the last quarter of a mile
+that the other was making what is called ‘a waiting race’ of it, and
+was only biding his time. There is nothing unfair in that, I fancy Delhi
+might have won if he had had a better jockey. His rider never really
+called upon him till it was too late. He was so thoroughly satisfied
+with himself and his position in the race that he was taken completely
+by surprise when Moonshee came suddenly up to him.”
+
+“Well, I think it is very hard upon Delhi, father, after keeping ahead
+all the way and going so nicely. I think everyone ought to do their best
+from the first.”
+
+“I fancy you are thinking, Miss Hunter,” the Doctor said, “quite as much
+that it is hard on you being beaten after your hopes had been raised, as
+it is upon the horse.”
+
+“Perhaps I am, Doctor,” she admitted.
+
+“I think it is much harder on me,” Isobel said. “You have had the
+satisfaction of thinking all along that your horse was going to win,
+while mine never gave me the least bit of hope.”
+
+“The proper expression, Miss Hannay, is, your horse never flattered
+you.”
+
+“Then I think it is a very silly expression, Mr. Wilson, because I don’t
+see that flattery has anything to do with it.”
+
+“Ah, here is Bathurst,” the Doctor said. “Where have you been, Bathurst?
+You slipped away from me just now.”
+
+“I’ve just been talking to the Commissioner, Doctor. I have been trying
+to get him to see--”
+
+“Why, you don’t mean to say,” the Doctor broke in, “that you have been
+trying to cram your theories down his throat on a racecourse?”
+
+
+“It was before the race began,” Bathurst said, “and I don’t think the
+Commissioner has any more interest in racing than I have.”
+
+“Not in racing,” the Doctor agreed, “but I expect he has an interest in
+enjoying himself generally, which is a thing you don’t seem to have the
+most remote idea of. Here we are just getting up a sweepstake for the
+next race; hand over a rupee and try to get up an interest in it. Do try
+and forget your work till the race is over. I have brought you here
+to do you good. I regard you as my patient, and I give you my medical
+orders that you are to enjoy yourself.”
+
+Bathurst laughed.
+
+“I am enjoying myself in my way, Doctor.”
+
+“Who is that very pretty woman standing up in the next carriage but
+one?” Isobel asked.
+
+“She comes from an out station,” the Doctor repeated; “she is the wife
+of the Collector there, but I think she likes Cawnpore better than
+Boorgum; her name is Rose.”
+
+“Is that her husband talking to her?”
+
+“No; that is a man in the Artillery here, I think.”
+
+“Yes,” the Major said, “that is Harrowby, a good looking fellow, and
+quite a ladies’ man.”
+
+“Do you mean a man ladies like, uncle, or who likes the society of
+ladies?”
+
+“Both in his case, I should fancy,” the Major said; “I believe he is
+considered one of the best looking men in the service.”
+
+“I don’t see why he should be liked for that,” Isobel said. “As far as I
+have seen, good looking men are not so pleasant as others. I suppose it
+is because they are conscious of their own good looks, and therefore do
+not take the trouble of being amusing. We had one very good looking
+man on board ship, and he was the dullest man to talk to on board. No,
+Doctor, I won’t have any names mentioned, but I am right, am I not?”
+
+“He was a dull specimen, certainly,” the Doctor said, “but I think you
+are a little too sweeping.”
+
+“I don’t mean all good looking men, of course, but men who what I call
+go in for being good looking. I don’t know whether you know what I mean.
+What are you smiling at, Mr. Wilson?”
+
+“I was thinking of two or three men I know to whom your description
+applies, Miss Hannay; but I must be going--they are just going to start
+the next race, and mine is the one after, so I must go and get ready.
+You wish me success, don’t you?”
+
+“I wish you all the success you deserve. I can’t say more than that, can
+I?”
+
+“I am afraid that is saying very little,” he laughed. “I don’t expect to
+win, but I do hope I shall beat Richards, because he is so cock sure he
+will beat me.”
+
+This wish was not gratified. The first and second horses made a close
+race of it; behind them by ten or twelve lengths came the other horses
+in a clump, Wilson and Richards singling themselves out in the last
+hundred yards and making a desperate race for the third place, for which
+they made a dead heat, amid great laughter from their comrades.
+
+“That is excellent,” Major Hannay said; “you won’t see anything more
+amusing than that today, girls. The third horse simply saved his stake,
+so that as they will of course divide, they will have paid twenty-five
+rupees each for the pleasure of riding, and the point which of their
+tats is the fastest remains unsettled.”
+
+“Well, they beat a good many of them, Major Hannay,” Miss Hunter said;
+“so they did not do so badly after all.”
+
+“Oh, no, they did not do so badly; but it will be a long time before
+they get over the chaff about their desperate struggle for the third
+place.”
+
+The next two races attracted but slight attention from the occupants
+of the carriage. Most of their acquaintances in the station came up one
+after the other for a chat. There were many fresh introductions, and
+there was so much conversation and laughter that the girls had little
+time to attend to what was going on around them. Wilson and Richards
+both sauntered up after changing, and were the subject of much chaff as
+to their brilliant riding at the finish. Both were firm in the belief
+that the judge’s finding was wrong, and each maintained stoutly he had
+beaten the other by a good head.
+
+The race for Arabs turned out a very exciting one; the Rajah of
+Bithoor’s horse was the favorite, on the strength of its performances
+elsewhere; but Prothero’s horse was also well supported, especially in
+the regiment, for the Adjutant was a first class rider, and was in
+great request at all the principal meetings in Oude and the Northwest
+Provinces, while it was known that the Rajah’s horse would be ridden by
+a native. The latter was dressed in strict racing costume, and had at
+the last races at Cawnpore won two or three cups for the Rajah.
+
+But the general opinion among the officers of the station was that
+Prothero’s coolness and nerve would tell. His Arab was certainly a fast
+one, and had won the previous year, both at Cawnpore and Lucknow; but
+the Rajah’s new purchase had gained so high a reputation in the Western
+Presidency as fully to justify the odds of two to one laid on it, while
+four to one were offered against Prothero, and from eight to twenty to
+one against any other competitor.
+
+Prothero had stopped to have a chat at the Hunters’ carriage as he
+walked towards the dressing tent.
+
+“Our hopes are all centered in you, Mr. Prothero,” Mr. Hunter said.
+“Miss Hannay has been wagering gloves in a frightfully reckless way.”
+
+“I should advise you to hedge if you can, Miss Hannay,” he said. “I
+think there is no doubt that Mameluke is a good deal faster than Seila.
+I fancy he is pounds better. I only beat Vincent’s horse by a head last
+year, and Mameluke gave him seven pounds, and beat him by three lengths
+at Poona. So I should strongly advise you to hedge your bets if you
+can.”
+
+“What does he mean by hedge, uncle?”
+
+“To hedge is to bet the other way, so that one bet cancels the other.”
+
+“Oh, I shan’t do that,” she said; “I have enough money to pay my bets if
+I lose.”
+
+“Do you mean to say you mean to pay your bets if you lose, Miss Hannay?”
+ the Doctor asked incredulously.
+
+“Of course I do,” she said indignantly. “You don’t suppose I intend to
+take the gloves if I win, and not to pay if I lose?”
+
+“It is not altogether an uncommon practice among ladies,” the Doctor
+said, “when they bet against gentlemen. I believe that when they wager
+against each other, which they do not often do, they are strictly
+honest, but that otherwise their memories are apt to fail them
+altogether.”
+
+“That is a libel, Mrs. Hunter, is it not?”
+
+“Not altogether, I think. Of course many ladies do pay their bets when
+they lose, but others certainly do not.”
+
+“Then I call it very mean,” Isobel said earnestly. “Why, it is as bad as
+asking anyone to make you a present of so many pairs of gloves in case a
+certain horse wins.”
+
+“It comes a good deal to the same thing,” Mrs. Hunter admitted, “but to
+a certain extent it is a recognized custom; it is a sort of tribute that
+is exacted at race time, just as in France every lady expects a present
+from every gentleman of her acquaintance on New Year’s Day.”
+
+“I wouldn’t bet if I didn’t mean to pay honestly,” Isobel said. “And if
+Mr. Prothero doesn’t win, my debts will all be honorably discharged.”
+
+There was a hush of expectation in the crowd when the ten horses whose
+numbers were up went down to the starting point, a quarter of a mile
+from the stand. They were to pass it, make the circuit, and finish
+there, the race being two miles. The interest of the natives was
+enlisted by the fact that Nana Sahib was running a horse, while the
+hopes of the occupants of the inclosure rested principally on Seila.
+
+The flag fell to a good start; but when the horses came along Isobel saw
+with surprise that the dark blue of the Rajah and the Adjutant’s scarlet
+and white were both in the rear of the group. Soon afterwards the
+scarlet seemed to be making its way through the horses, and was speedily
+leading them.
+
+“Prothero is making the running with a vengeance,” the Major said. “That
+is not like his usual tactics, Doctor.”
+
+“I fancy he knows what he is doing,” the Doctor replied. “He saw that
+Mameluke’s rider was going to make a waiting race of it, and as the
+horse has certainly the turn of speed on him, he is trying other
+tactics. They are passing the mile post now, and Prothero is twelve or
+fourteen lengths ahead. There, Mameluke is going through his horses; his
+rider is beginning to get nervous at the lead Prothero has got, and
+he can’t stand it any longer. He ought to have waited for another half
+mile. You will see, Prothero will win after all. Seila can stay, there
+is no doubt about that.”
+
+A roar of satisfaction rose from the mass of natives on the other side
+of the inclosure as Mameluke was seen to leave the group of horses and
+gradually to gain upon Seila.
+
+“Oh, he will catch him, uncle!” Isobel said, tearing her handkerchief in
+her excitement.
+
+The Major was watching the horses through his field glass.
+
+“Never mind his catching him,” he said; “Prothero is riding quietly and
+steadily. Seila is doing nearly her best, but he is not hurrying her,
+while the fool on Mameluke is bustling the horse as if he had only a
+hundred yards further to go.”
+
+The horses were nearing the point at which they had started, when a
+shout from the crowd proclaimed that the blue jacket had come up to and
+passed the scarlet. Slowly it forged ahead until it was two lengths in
+advance, for a few strides their relative positions remained unaltered,
+then there was a shout from the carriages; scarlet was coming up again.
+Mameluke’s rider glanced over his shoulder, and began to use the whip.
+For a few strides the horse widened the gap again, but Prothero still
+sat quiet and unmoved. Just as they reached the end of the line of
+carriages, Seila again began to close up.
+
+“Seila wins! Seila wins!” the officers shouted.
+
+But it seemed to Isobel that this was well nigh impossible, but foot by
+foot the mare came up, and as they passed the Hunters’ carriage her head
+was in advance.
+
+In spite of the desperate efforts of the rider of Mameluke, another
+hundred yards and they passed the winning post, Seila a length ahead.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+The exultation of the officers of the 103d over Seila’s victory was
+great. They had all backed her, relying upon Prothero’s riding, but
+although his success was generally popular among the Europeans at
+the station, many had lost considerable sums by their confidence in
+Mameluke’s speed.
+
+Isobel sat down feeling quite faint from the excitement.
+
+“I did not think I could have been so excited over a race between two
+horses,” she said to Mrs. Hunter; “it was not the bets, I never even
+thought about them--it was just because I wanted to see Mr. Prothero’s
+horse win. I never understood before why people should take such an
+interest in horse racing, but I quite understand now.”
+
+“What is your size, Miss Hannay?” Wilson asked.
+
+“Oh, I don’t care anything about the gloves, Mr. Wilson; I am sorry I
+bet now.”
+
+“You needn’t feel any compunction in taking them from me or from any of
+us, Miss Hannay; we have all won over Seila; the regiment will have to
+give a ball on the strength of it. I only put on a hundred rupees, and
+so have won four hundred, but most of them have won ever so much more
+than that; and all I have lost is four pair of gloves to you, and four
+to Mrs. Doolan, and four to Mrs. Prothero--a dozen in all. Which do you
+take, white or cream, and what is your size?”
+
+“Six and a half, cream.”
+
+“All right, Miss Hannay. The Nana must have lost a good lot of money;
+he has been backing his horse with everyone who would lay against
+it. However, it won’t make any difference to him, and it is always a
+satisfaction when the loss comes on someone to whom it doesn’t matter a
+bit. I think the regiment ought to give a dinner to Prothero, Major; it
+was entirely his riding that did it; he hustled that nigger on Mameluke
+splendidly. If the fellow had waited till within half a mile of home he
+would have won to a certainty; I never saw anything better.”
+
+“Well, Miss Hannay, what do you think of a horse race?” Bathurst, who
+had only remained a few minutes at the carriage, asked, as he strolled
+up again. “You said yesterday that you had never seen one.”
+
+“I am a little ashamed to say I was very much excited over it, Mr.
+Bathurst. You have not lost, I hope? You are looking” and she stopped.
+
+“Shaky?” he said. “Yes; I feel shaky. I had not a penny on the race,
+for though the Doctor made me put into a sweep last night at the club,
+I drew a blank; but the shouting and excitement at the finish seemed to
+take my breath away, and I felt quite faint.”
+
+“That is just how I felt; I did not know men felt like that. They don’t
+generally seem to know what nerves are.”
+
+“I wish I didn’t; it is a great nuisance. The Doctor tries to persuade
+me that it is the effect of overwork, but I have always been so from a
+child, and I can’t get over it.”
+
+“You don’t look nervous, Mr. Bathurst.”
+
+“No; when a man is a fair size, and looks bronzed and healthy, no one
+will give him credit for being nervous. I would give a very great deal
+if I could get over it.”
+
+“I don’t see that it matters much one way or the other, Mr. Bathurst.”
+
+“I can assure you that it does. I regard it as being a most serious
+misfortune.”
+
+Isobel was a little surprised at the earnestness with which he spoke.
+
+“I should not have thought that,” she said quietly; “but I can
+understand that it is disagreeable for a man to feel nervous, simply,
+I suppose, because it is regarded as a feminine quality; but I think a
+good many men are nervous. We had several entertainments on board the
+ship coming out, and it was funny to see how many great strong men broke
+down, especially those who had to make speeches.”
+
+“I am not nervous in that way,” Bathurst said, with a laugh. “My pet
+horror is noise; thunder prostrates me completely, and in fact all
+noises, especially any sharp, sudden sound, affect me. I really find
+it a great nuisance. I fancy a woman with nerves considers herself as
+a martyr, and deserving of all pity and sympathy. It is almost a
+fashionable complaint, and she is a little proud of it; but a man ought
+to have his nerves in good order, and as much as that is expected of him
+unless he is a feeble little body. There is the bell for the next race.”
+
+“Are you going to bet on this race again, Miss Hannay?” Wilson said,
+coming up.
+
+“No, Mr. Wilson. I have done my first and last bit of gambling. I
+don’t think it is nice, ladies betting, after all, and if there were a
+hospital here I should order you to send the money the gloves will cost
+you to it as conscience money, and then perhaps you might follow my
+example with your winnings.”
+
+“My conscience is not moved in any way,” he laughed; “when it is I will
+look out for a deserving charity. Well, if you won’t bet I must see if I
+can make a small investment somewhere else.”
+
+“I shall see you at the ball, of course?” Isobel said, turning to Mr.
+Bathurst, as Wilson left the carriage.
+
+“No, I think not. Balls are altogether out of my line, and as there is
+always a superabundance of men at such affairs here, there is no sense
+of duty about it.”
+
+“What is your line, Mr. Bathurst?”
+
+“I am afraid I have none, Miss Hannay. The fact is, there is really
+more work to be done than one can get through. When you get to know the
+natives well you cannot help liking them and longing to do them some
+good if they would but let you, but it is so difficult to get them to
+take up new ideas. Their religion, with all its customs and ceremonies,
+seems designed expressly to bar out all improvements. Except in the case
+of abolishing Suttee, we have scarcely weaned them from one of their
+observances; and even now, in spite of our efforts, widows occasionally
+immolate themselves, and that with the general approval.
+
+“I wish I had an army of ten thousand English ladies all speaking the
+language well to go about among the women and make friends with them;
+there would be more good done in that way than by all the officials in
+India. They might not be able to emancipate themselves from all their
+restrictions, but they might influence their children, and in time pave
+the way for a moral revolution. But it is ridiculous,” he said, breaking
+off suddenly, “my talking like this here, but you see it is what
+you call my line, my hobby, if you like; but when one sees this hard
+working, patient, gentle people making their lot so much harder than it
+need be by their customs and observances one longs to force them even
+against their own will to burst their bonds.”
+
+Dr. Wade came up at this moment and caught the last word or two.
+
+“You are incorrigible, Bathurst. Miss Hannay, I warn you that this
+man is a monomaniac. I drag him away from his work, and here he is
+discoursing with you on reform just as a race is going to start. You
+may imagine, my dear, what a thorn he is in the side of the bigwigs.
+You have heard of Talleyrand’s advice to a young official, ‘Above all
+things, no zeal.’ Go away, Bathurst; Miss Hannay wants to see the race,
+and even if she doesn’t she is powerless to assist you in your crusade.”
+
+Bathurst laughed and drew off.
+
+“That is too bad, Doctor. I was very interested. I like to talk to
+people who can think of something besides races and balls and the gossip
+of the station.”
+
+“Yes, in reason, in reason, my dear; but there is a medium in all
+things. I have no doubt Bathurst will be quite happy some time or other
+to give you his full views on child marriages, and the remarriages of
+widows, and female education, and the land settlement, and a score of
+other questions, but for this a few weeks of perfect leisure will be
+required. Seriously, you know that I think Bathurst one of the finest
+young fellows in the service, but his very earnestness injures both his
+prospects and his utility. The officials have a horror of
+enthusiasm; they like the cut and dried subordinate who does his duty
+conscientiously, and does not trouble his head about anything but
+carrying out the regulations laid down for him.
+
+“Theoretically I agree with most of Bathurst’s views, practically I see
+that a score of officials like him would excite a revolution throughout
+a whole province. In India, of all places in the world, the maxim
+festina lente--go slow--is applicable. You have the prejudices of a
+couple of thousand years against change. The people of all things are
+jealous of the slightest appearance of interference with their customs.
+The change will no doubt come in time, but it must come gradually, and
+must be the work of the natives themselves and not of us. To try to
+hasten that time would be but to defer it. Now, child, there is the
+bell; now just attend to the business in hand.”
+
+“Very well, Doctor, I will obey your orders, but it is only fair to say
+that Mr. Bathurst’s remarks are only in answer to something I said,” and
+Isobel turned to watch the race, but with an interest less ardent than
+she had before felt.
+
+Isobel’s character was an essentially earnest one, and her life up to
+the day of her departure to India had been one of few pleasures. She had
+enjoyed the change and had entered heartily into it, and she was as yet
+by no means tired of it, but she had upon her arrival at Cawnpore been a
+little disappointed that there was no definite work for her to perform,
+and had already begun to feel that a time would come when she would
+want something more than gossip and amusements and the light talk of the
+officers of her acquaintance to fill her life.
+
+She had as yet no distinct interest of her own, and Bathurst’s
+earnestness had struck a cord in her own nature and seemed to open a
+wide area for thought. She put it aside now and chatted gayly with the
+Hunters and those who came up to the carriage, but it came back to her
+as she sat in her room before going to bed.
+
+Up till now she had not heard a remark since she had been in Cawnpore
+that might not have been spoken had the cantonments there been the whole
+of India, except that persons at other stations were mentioned. The
+vast, seething native population were no more alluded to than if they
+were a world apart. Bathurst’s words had for the first time brought home
+to her the reality of their existence, and that around this little group
+of English men and women lay a vast population, with their joys and
+sorrows and sufferings.
+
+At breakfast she surprised Mrs. Hunter by asking a variety of questions
+as to native customs. “I suppose you have often been in the Zenanas,
+Mrs. Hunter?”
+
+“Not often, my dear. I have been in some of them, and very depressing it
+is to see how childish and ignorant the women are.”
+
+“Can nothing be done for them, Mrs. Hunter?”
+
+“Very little. In time I suppose there will be schools for girls, but you
+see they marry so young that it is difficult to get at them.”
+
+“How young do they marry?”
+
+“They are betrothed, although it has all the force of a marriage, as
+infants, and a girl can be a widow at two or three years old; and so,
+poor little thing, she remains to the end of her life in a position
+little better than that of a servant in her husband’s family. Really
+they are married at ten or eleven.”
+
+Isobel looked amazed at this her first insight into native life. Mrs.
+Hunter smiled.
+
+“I heard Mr. Bathurst saying something to you about it yesterday, Miss
+Hannay. He is an enthusiast; we like him very much, but we don’t see
+much of him.”
+
+“You must beware of him, Miss Hannay,” Mr. Hunter said, “or he will
+inoculate you with some of his fads. I do not say that he is not right,
+but he sees the immensity of the need for change, but does not see fully
+the immensity of the difficulty in bringing it about.”
+
+“There is no fear of his inoculating me; that is to say of setting me to
+work, for what could one woman do?”
+
+“Nothing, my dear,” her uncle said; “if all the white women in India
+threw themselves into the work, they could do little. The natives are
+too jealous of what they consider intruders; the Parsees are about the
+only progressive people. While ladies are welcome enough when they pay
+a visit of ceremony to the Zenana of a native, if they were to try to
+teach their wives to be discontented with their lots--for that is
+what it would be--they would be no longer welcome. Schools are being
+established, but at present these are but a drop in the ocean. Still,
+the work does go on, and in time something will be done. It is of no use
+bothering yourself about it, Isobel; it is best to take matters as you
+find them.”
+
+Isobel made no answer, but she was much disappointed when Dr. Wade,
+dropping in to tiffin, said his guest had started two hours before
+for Deennugghur. He had a batch of letters and reports from his native
+clerk, and there was something or other that he said he must see to at
+once.
+
+“He begged me to say, Major, that he was very sorry to go off without
+saying goodby, but he hoped to be in Cawnpore before long. I own that
+that part of the message astonished me, knowing as I do what difficulty
+there is in getting him out of his shell. He and I became great chums
+when I was over at Deennugghur two years ago, and the young fellow is
+not given to making friends. However, as he is not the man to say a
+thing without meaning it, I suppose he intends to come over again. He
+knows there is always a bed for him in my place.”
+
+“We see very little of him,” Mary Hunter said; “he is always away on
+horseback all day. Sometimes he comes in the evening when we are quite
+alone, but he will never stay long. He always excuses himself on the
+ground that he has a report to write or something of that sort. Amy and
+I call him ‘Timon of Athens.’”
+
+“There is nothing of Timon about him,” the Doctor remarked dogmatically.
+“That is the way with you young ladies--you think that a man’s first
+business in life is to be dancing attendance on you. Bathurst looks at
+life seriously, and no wonder, going about as he does among the natives
+and listening to their stories and complaints. He puts his hand to the
+plow, and does not turn to the right or left.”
+
+“Still, Doctor, you must allow,” Mrs. Hunter said gravely, “that Mr.
+Bathurst is not like most other men.”
+
+“Certainly not,” the Doctor remarked. “He takes no interest in sport of
+any kind; he does not care for society; he very rarely goes to the club,
+and never touches a card when he does; and yet he is the sort of man one
+would think would throw himself into what is going on. He is a strong,
+active, healthy man, whom one would expect to excel in all sorts of
+sports; he is certainly good looking; he talks extremely well, and is, I
+should say, very well read and intelligent.”
+
+“He can be very amusing when he likes, Doctor. Once or twice when he has
+been with us he has seemed to forget himself, as it were, and was full
+of fun and life. You must allow that it is a little singular that a man
+like this should altogether avoid society, and night and day be absorbed
+in his work.”
+
+“I have thought sometimes,” Mr. Hunter said, “that Bathurst must have
+had some great trouble in his life. Of what nature I can, of course,
+form no idea. He was little more than twenty when he came out here, so I
+should say that it was hardly a love affair.”
+
+“That is always the way, Hunter. If a man goes his own way, and that way
+does not happen to be the way of the mess, it is supposed that he must
+have had trouble of some sort. As Bathurst is the son of a distinguished
+soldier, and is now the owner of a fine property at home, I don’t see
+what trouble he can have had. He may possibly, for anything I know, have
+had some boyish love affairs, but I don’t think he is the sort of man to
+allow his whole life to be affected by any foolery of that sort. He is
+simply an enthusiast.
+
+“It is good for mankind that there should be some enthusiasts. I grant
+that it would be an unpleasant world if we were all enthusiasts, but
+the sight of a man like him throwing his whole life and energy into his
+work, and wearing himself out trying to lessen the evils he sees
+around him, ought to do good to us all. Look at these boys,” and he
+apostrophized Wilson and Richards, as they appeared together at the
+door. “What do they think of but amusing themselves and shirking their
+duties as far as possible?”
+
+“Oh, I say, Doctor,” Wilson exclaimed, astonished at this sudden attack,
+“what are you pitching into us like that for? That is not fair, is it,
+Major? We amuse ourselves, of course, when there is nothing else to do,
+but I am sure we don’t shirk our work. You don’t want us to spend our
+spare time in reading Greek, I suppose?”
+
+“No; but you might spend some of it very profitably in learning some of
+these native languages,” the Doctor said. “I don’t believe that you know
+above a dozen native words now. You can shout for brandy and water, and
+for a light for your cigars, but I fancy that that is about the extent
+of it.”
+
+“We are going to have a moonshee next week, Doctor,” Wilson said, a
+little crestfallen, “and a horrid nuisance it will be.”
+
+“That is only because you are obliged to pass in the vernacular, Wilson.
+So you need not take any credit to yourself on that account.”
+
+“Doctor, you are in one of your worst possible tempers this morning,”
+ Isobel said. “You snap at us all round. You are quite intolerable this
+morning.”
+
+“I am rather put out by Bathurst running away in this fashion, Miss
+Hannay. I had made up my mind that he would stop three or four days
+longer, and it is pleasant to have someone who can talk and think about
+something besides horses and balls. But I will go away; I don’t want to
+be the disturbing element; and I have no doubt that Richards is burning
+to tell you the odds on some of the horses today.”
+
+“Shall we see you on the racecourse, Doctor?” the Major asked, as the
+Doctor moved towards the door.
+
+“You will not, Major; one day is enough for me. If they would get up a
+donkey race confined strictly to the subalterns of the station, I might
+take the trouble to go and look at it.”
+
+“The Doctor is in great form today,” Wilson said good temperedly, after
+the laugh which followed the Doctor’s exit had subsided; “and I am sure
+we did nothing to provoke him.”
+
+“You got into his line of fire, Wilson,” the Major said; “he is
+explosive this morning, and has been giving it to us all round. However,
+nobody minds what the Doctor says; his bark is very bad, but he has
+no bite. Wait till you are down with the fever, and you will find him
+devote himself to you as if he were your father.”
+
+“He is one of the kindest men in the world,” Isobel agreed warmly,
+thereby effectually silencing Richards, who had just pulled up his shirt
+collar preparatory to a sarcastic utterance respecting him.
+
+Isobel, indeed, was in full sympathy with the Doctor, for she, too, was
+disappointed at Bathurst’s sudden departure. She had looked forward to
+learning a good deal from him about the native customs and ways, and
+had intended to have a long talk with him. She was perhaps, too, more
+interested generally in the man himself than she would have been willing
+to admit.
+
+That evening the party went to an entertainment at Bithoor. Isobel and
+the girls were delighted with the illuminations of the gardens and with
+the palace itself, with its mixture of Eastern splendor and European
+luxury. But Isobel did not altogether enjoy the evening.
+
+“I suppose I ought to congratulate you on your success last night,
+Isobel,” Dr. Wade said, when he dropped in after breakfast. “Everyone
+has been telling me that the Rajah paid you the greatest attention,
+and that there is the fiercest gnashing of teeth among what must now be
+called the ex-queens of the station.”
+
+“I don’t know who told you such nonsense, Doctor,” Isobel replied hotly.
+“The Rajah quite spoilt the evening for me. I have been telling Mrs.
+Hunter so. If we had not been in his own house, I should have told him
+that I should enjoy the evening very much more if he would leave me
+alone and let me go about and look quietly at the place and the gardens,
+which are really beautiful. No doubt he is pleasant enough, and I
+suppose I ought to have felt flattered at his walking about with me and
+so on, but I am sure I did not. What pleasure does he suppose an English
+girl can have in listening to elaborate compliments from a man as yellow
+as a guinea?”
+
+“Think of his wealth, my dear.”
+
+“What difference does his wealth make?” Isobel said. “As far as I have
+seen, I do not think that rich Englishmen are more amusing than others,
+and if he had all the wealth of India, that would not improve Nana Sahib
+in my eyes. There are women, of course, who do think a great deal about
+money, and who will even marry men for it, but even women who would
+do that could not, I should think, care anything about the wealth of a
+Hindoo they cannot marry.”
+
+“Not directly, my dear,” Mrs. Hunter said; “but people may be flattered
+with the notice and admiration of a person of importance and great
+wealth, even if he is a Hindoo.”
+
+“Besides,” the Doctor put in, “the Rajah is considered to be a great
+connoisseur of English beauty, and has frequently expressed his deep
+regret that his religion prevented his marrying an English lady.”
+
+“I should be very sorry for the English girl who would marry him,
+religion or not.”
+
+“I think you are rather hard upon the Nana, Isobel,” the Major said.
+“He is a general favorite; he is open handed and liberal; very fond of
+entertaining; a great admirer of us as a nation. He is a wonderfully
+well read man for a Hindoo, can talk upon almost every subject, and is
+really a pleasant fellow.”
+
+“I don’t like him; I don’t like him at all,” Isobel said positively.
+
+“Ah, that is only because you thought he made you a little more
+conspicuous than you liked by his attentions to you, Isobel.”
+
+“No, indeed, uncle; that was very silly and ridiculous, but I did not
+like the man himself, putting that aside altogether. It was like talking
+to a man with a mask on: it gave me a creepy feeling. It did not seem to
+me that one single word he said was sincere, but that he was acting; and
+over and over again as he was talking I said to myself, ‘What is this
+man really like? I know he is not the least bit in the world what he
+pretends to be. But what is the reality?’ I felt just the same as I
+should if I had one of those great snakes they bring to our veranda
+coiling round me. The creature might look quiet enough, but I should
+know that if it were to tighten it would crush me in a moment.”
+
+The Major and Mrs. Hunter both laughed at her earnestness, but the
+Doctor said gravely, “Is that really how you felt about him when he was
+talking to you, Miss Hannay? I am sorry to hear you say that. I own
+that my opinion has been that of everyone here, that the Rajah is a good
+fellow and a firm friend of the Europeans, and my only doubt has arisen
+from the fact that it was unnatural he should like us when he has
+considerable grounds for grievance against us. We have always relied
+upon his influence, which is great among his countrymen, being thrown
+entirely into the scale on our side if any trouble should ever arise;
+but I own that what you say makes me doubt him. I would always take the
+opinion of a dog or a child about anyone in preference to my own.”
+
+“You are not very complimentary, Doctor,” Isobel laughed.
+
+“Well, my dear, a young girl who has not mixed much in the world and had
+her instincts blunted is in that respect very much like a child. She may
+be deceived, and constantly is deceived where her heart is concerned,
+and is liable to be taken in by any plausible scoundrel; but where her
+heart is not concerned her instincts are true. When I see children and
+dogs stick to a man I am convinced that he is all right, though I may
+not personally have taken to him. When I see a dog put his tail between
+his legs and decline to accept the advances of a man, and when I see
+children slip away from him as soon as they can, I distrust him at once,
+however pleasant a fellow he may be. As the Rajah, from all I heard,
+certainly laid himself out to be agreeable to you last night, and yet in
+spite of that you felt as you say you did about him, I am bound to say
+that without at once admitting that my impressions about him were
+wrong, I consider that there is good ground for thinking the matter over
+again.”
+
+“What nonsense, Doctor,” the Major laughed. “Everyone here has known the
+Rajah for years. He is a most popular man, everyone likes him, among the
+ladies especially he is a great favorite. It is ridiculous to suggest
+that everyone should have been wrong about him, merely because Isobel
+takes a prejudice against him, and that as far as I can see is simply
+because his admiration for her was somewhat marked.”
+
+Isobel gave a little shudder. “Don’t talk about admiration, uncle; that
+is not the word for it; I don’t know what it was like. They say snakes
+fascinate birds before they eat them by fixing their eyes upon them. I
+should say it was something of that sort of look.”
+
+“Well, my dear, he is not going to eat you, that is certain,” the Major
+said; “and I can assure you that his approbation goes for a great
+deal here, and that after this you will go up several pegs in Cawnpore
+society.”
+
+Isobel tossed her head. “Then I am sorry for Cawnpore society; it is
+a matter of entire indifference to me whether I go up or down in its
+opinion.”
+
+A fortnight later the Nana gave another entertainment. A good deal to
+her uncle’s vexation, Isobel refused to go when the time came.
+
+“But what am I to say, my dear?” he asked in some perplexity.
+
+“You can say anything you like, uncle; you can say that I am feeling the
+heat and have got a bad headache, which is true; or you can say that
+I don’t care for gayety, which is also true. I shall be very much more
+comfortable and happy at home by myself.”
+
+The Hunters had by this time returned to Deennugghur, and the Major
+drove over to Bithoor accompanied only by Dr. Wade. He was rather
+surprised when the Doctor said he would go, as it was very seldom that
+he went out to such entertainments.
+
+“I am not going to amuse myself, Major; I want to have a good look at
+the Nana again; I am not comfortable since Isobel gave us her opinion
+of him. He is an important personage, and if there is any truth in these
+rumors about disaffection among the Sepoys his friendship may be of the
+greatest assistance to us.”
+
+So the Doctor was with Major Hannay when the latter made his excuses for
+Isobel’s absence on the ground that she was not feeling very well.
+
+The Nana expressed great regret at the news, and said that with the
+Major’s permission he would call in the morning to inquire after Miss
+Hannay’s health.
+
+“He did not like it,” the Doctor said, when they had strolled away
+together. “He was very civil and polite, but I could see that he was
+savage. I fancy he got up this fete principally in her honor. It is not
+often he has two so close together.”
+
+“Oh, that is nonsense, Doctor.”
+
+“I don’t think so. He has done the same sort of thing several times
+before, when he has been specially taken by some fresh face from
+England.”
+
+Others besides the Doctor remarked that the Rajah was not quite himself
+that evening. He was courteous and polite to his guests, but he was
+irritable with his own people, and something had evidently gone wrong
+with him.
+
+The next day he called at the Major’s. The latter had not told Isobel
+of his intention, for he guessed that had he done so she would have gone
+across to Mrs. Doolan or one of her lady friends, and she was sitting in
+the veranda with him and young Wilson when the carriage drove up.
+
+“I was so sorry to hear that you were unwell, Miss Hannay,” the Nana
+said courteously. “It was a great disappointment to me that you were
+unable to accompany your uncle last night.”
+
+“I have been feeling the heat the last few days,” Isobel said quietly,
+“and, indeed, I do not care much about going out in such hot weather
+as this. I have not been accustomed to much society in England, and the
+crowd and the heat and the lights make my head ache.”
+
+“You look the picture of health, Miss Hannay, but I know that it is
+trying for Englishwomen when they first come into our climate; it is
+always a great pleasure to me to receive English ladies at Bithoor. I
+hope upon the next occasion you will be able to come.”
+
+“I am much obliged to your highness,” she said, “but it would be a truer
+kindness to let me stay quietly at home.”
+
+“But that is selfish of you, Miss Hannay. You should think a little of
+the pleasure of others as well as your own.”
+
+“I am not conceited enough to suppose that it could make any difference
+to other people’s pleasure whether I am at a party or not,” Isobel said.
+“I suppose you mean that as a compliment, Rajah, but I am not accustomed
+to compliments, and don’t like them.”
+
+“You will have to learn to become accustomed to compliments, Miss
+Hannay,” the Rajah said, with a smile; and then turning to the Doctor,
+began to tell him of a tiger that had been doing a great deal of harm
+at a village some thirty miles away, and offered to send some elephants
+over to organize a hunt for him if he liked, an invitation that the
+Doctor promptly accepted.
+
+The visit was but a short one. The Rajah soon took his leave.
+
+“You are wrong altogether, Isobel,” the Doctor said. “I have returned to
+my conviction that the Rajah is a first rate fellow.”
+
+“That is just because he offered you some shooting, Doctor,” Isobel said
+indignantly. “I thought better of you than to suppose that you could be
+bought over so easily as that.”
+
+“She had you there, Doctor,” the Major laughed. “However, I am glad that
+you will no longer be backing her in her fancies.”
+
+“Why did you accept his invitation for us to go over and lunch there,
+uncle?” Isobel asked, in a tone of annoyance.
+
+“Because there was no reason in the world why we should refuse, my dear.
+He very often has luncheon parties, and after that he will show you over
+the place, and exhibit his jewels and curiosities. He said there would
+be other ladies there, and I have no doubt we shall have a very pleasant
+day.”
+
+Even Isobel was obliged to confess that the visit was a pleasant one.
+The Nana had asked Mrs. Cromarty, her daughters, and most of the other
+ladies of the regiment, with their husbands. The lunch was a banquet,
+and after it was over the parties were taken round the place, paid a
+visit to the Zenana, inspected the gardens and stables, and were driven
+through the park. The Nana saw that Isobel objected to be particularly
+noticed, and had the tact to make his attentions so general that even
+she could find no fault with him.
+
+On the drive back she admitted to her uncle that she had enjoyed her
+visit very much, and that the Rajah’s manners were those of a perfect
+gentleman.
+
+“But mind, uncle,” she said, “I do not retract my opinion. What the
+Rajah really is I don’t pretend to know, but I am quite sure that the
+character of a smiling host is not his real one, and that for some
+reason or other he is simply playing a part.”
+
+“I had no idea that you were such a prejudiced little woman,” the Major
+said, somewhat vexed; “but as it is no use arguing with you we had
+better drop the subject.”
+
+For the next month Cawnpore suffered a little from the reaction
+after the gayety of the races, but there was no lack of topics of
+conversation, for the rumors of disaffection among the troops gained in
+strength, and although nothing positive was known, and everyone scoffed
+at the notion of any serious trouble, the subject was so important a
+one that little else was talked of whenever parties of the ladies got
+together.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+“I have some bad news, Isobel. At least I suppose you will consider it
+bad news,” the Major said one morning, when he returned from the orderly
+room. “You heard me say that four companies were going to relieve those
+at Deennugghur. Well, I am going with them. It seems that the General is
+of opinion that in the present unsettled state of affairs there ought to
+be a field officer in command there, so I have to go. For myself I don’t
+mind, but you will find it dull in a small station like that, after the
+gayeties of Cawnpore.”
+
+“I don’t mind a bit, uncle, in that respect. I don’t think I care
+much for gayeties, but of course the move will be a trouble. We have
+everything so nice here, it will be horrid having to leave it all. How
+long will it be for?”
+
+“Six months, in the ordinary state of things, though of course something
+may occur to bring us in before that. Still, the change won’t be as much
+trouble as you fancy. When we get there you can stay for two or three
+days with the Hunters till we have got the things to rights. There is
+one thing that you will be pleased about. Wade is going with us, at any
+rate for the present; you are a favorite of his, you know, and I think
+that is the principal reason for his going. At any rate, when he heard I
+was in orders, he told the Colonel that, as there was no illness in the
+regiment, he thought, if he did not object, he would change places for
+a bit with M’Alaster, the assistant surgeon, who has been with the
+detachment at Deennugghur for the last year, so as to give him a turn
+of duty at Cawnpore, and do a little shikaring himself. There is more
+jungle and better shooting round Deennugghur than there is here, and you
+know the Doctor is an enthusiast that way. Of course, the Colonel agreed
+at once.”
+
+“I am very glad of that, uncle; it won’t seem like going to a strange
+place if we have him with us, and the Hunters there, and I suppose three
+or four officers of the regiment. Who are going?”
+
+“Both your boys,” the Major laughed, “and Doolan and Rintoul.”
+
+“When do we go, uncle?”
+
+“Next Monday. I shall get somebody to put us up from Friday, and that
+morning we will get everything dismantled here, and send them off by
+bullock carts with the servants to Deennugghur, so that they will be
+there by Monday morning. I will write to Hunter to pick us out the best
+of the empty bungalows, and see that our fellows get to work to clean
+the place up as soon as they arrive. We shall be two days on the march,
+and things will be pretty forward by the time we get there.”
+
+“And where shall we sleep on the march?”
+
+“In tents, my dear, and very comfortable you will find them. Rumzan will
+go with us, and you will find everything go on as smoothly as if you
+were here. Tent life in India is very pleasant. Next year, in the cool
+season, we will do an excursion somewhere, and I am sure you will find
+it delightful: they don’t know anything about the capabilities of tents
+at home.”
+
+“Then do I quite understand, uncle, that all I have got to do is to make
+a round of calls to say goodby to everyone?”
+
+“That is all. You will find a lot of my cards in one of those pigeon
+holes; you may as well drop one wherever you go. Shall I order a
+carriage from Framjee’s for today?”
+
+“No, I think not, uncle; I will go round to our own bungalows first, and
+hear what Mrs. Doolan and the others think about it.”
+
+At Mrs. Doolan’s Isobel found quite an assembly. Mrs. Rintoul had come
+in almost in tears, and the two young lieutenants had dropped in with
+Captain Doolan, while one or two other officers had come round to
+commiserate with Mrs. Doolan.
+
+“Another victim,” the latter said, as Isobel entered.
+
+“You look too cheerful, Miss Hannay. I find that we are expected to wear
+sad countenances at our approaching banishment.”
+
+“Are we, Mrs. Doolan? It seems to me that it won’t make very much
+difference to us.”
+
+“Not make any difference, Miss Hannay!” Captain Doolan said. “Why,
+Deennugghur is one of the dullest little stations on this side of
+India!”
+
+“What do you mean by dull, Captain Doolan?”
+
+“Why, there are only about six white residents there besides the troops.
+Of course, as four companies are going instead of one, it will make
+a difference; but there will be no gayety, no excitement, and really
+nothing to do.”
+
+“As for the gayety, I am sure I shall not regret it, Captain Doolan;
+besides, our gayeties are pretty well over, except, of course, dinner
+parties, and it is getting very hot for them. We shall get off having to
+go out in the heat of the day to make calls, which seem to me terrible
+afflictions, and I think with a small party it ought to be very sociable
+and pleasant. As for excitement, I hear that there is much better
+shooting there than there is here. Mrs. Hunter was telling me that they
+have had some tigers that have been very troublesome round there, and
+you will all have an opportunity of showing your skill and bravery.
+I know that Mr. Richards and Mr. Wilson are burning to distinguish
+themselves.”
+
+“It would be great fun to shoot a tiger,” Richards said. “When I came
+out to India I thought there was going to be lots of tiger shooting, and
+I bought a rifle on purpose, but I have never had a chance yet. Yes, we
+will certainly get up a tiger hunt, won’t we, Wilson? You will tell us
+how to set about it, won’t you, Doolan?”
+
+“I don’t shoot,” Captain Doolan said; “and if I wanted to, I am not sure
+that my wife would give me leave.”
+
+“Certainly I would not,” Mrs. Doolan said promptly. “Married men have no
+right to run into unnecessary danger.”
+
+“Dr. Wade will be able to put you in the way, Mr. Richards,” Isobel
+said.
+
+“Dr. Wade!” Mrs. Rintoul exclaimed. “You don’t mean to say, Miss Hannay,
+that he is going with us?”
+
+“Yes, he is going for a time, Mrs. Rintoul. My uncle told me that he had
+applied to go with the detachment, and that the surgeon there would come
+back to the regiment while he is away.”
+
+“I do call that hard,” Mrs. Rintoul said. “The only thing I was glad we
+were going for was that we should be under Mr. M’Alaster, who is very
+pleasant, and quite understands my case, while Dr. Wade does not seem to
+understand it at all, and is always so very brusque and unsympathetic.”
+
+There was a general smile.
+
+“Wade is worth a hundred of M’Alaster,” Captain Roberts said. “There is
+not a man out here I would rather trust myself to if I were ill. He is
+an awfully good fellow, too, all round, though he may be, as you say, a
+little brusque in manner.”
+
+“I call him a downright bear,” Mrs. Rintoul said angrily. “Why, only
+last week he told me that if I would get up two hours earlier and go for
+a brisk walk just after sunrise, and give up eating meat at tiffin, and
+confine myself to two or three dishes at dinner, I should be perfectly
+well in the course of a month; just as if I was in the habit of
+overeating myself, when I have scarcely the appetite of a sparrow. I
+told Captain Rintoul afterwards that I must consult someone else, for
+that really I could not bear such rudeness.”
+
+“I am afraid we are all against you, Mrs. Rintoul,” Mrs. Doolan said,
+with a little shake of her head at Isobel, who was, she saw, going to
+speak out strongly. “No one could possibly be kinder than he is when
+anyone is really ill. I mean seriously ill,” she added, as Mrs. Rintoul
+drew herself up indignantly. “I shall never forget how attentive he was
+to the children when they were down with fever just before he went to
+England. He missed his ship and lost a month of his leave because he
+would not go away till they were out of danger, and there are very few
+men who would have done that. I shall never forget his kindness. And now
+let us talk of something else. You will have to establish a little mess
+on your own account, Mr. Wilson, as both the Captains are married men,
+and the Major has also an incumbrance.”
+
+“Yes, it will be horribly dull, Mrs. Doolan. Richards and I have
+quarters together here, and, of course, it will be the same there, and
+I am sure I don’t know what we shall find to talk about when we come to
+have to mess together. Of course, here, there are the messroom and the
+club, and so we get on very well, but to be together always will be
+awful.”
+
+“You will really have to take to reading or something of that sort, Mr.
+Wilson,” Isobel laughed.
+
+“I always do read the Field, Miss Hannay, but that won’t last for a
+whole week, you know; and there is no billiard table, and no racquet
+court, or anything else at Deennugghur, and one cannot always be riding
+about the country.”
+
+“We shall all have to take pity on you as much as we can,” Mrs. Doolan
+said. “I must say that, like Miss Hannay, I shall not object to the
+change.”
+
+“I think it is all very well for you, Mrs. Doolan; you have children.”
+
+“Well, Mr. Richards, I will let you both, as a great treat, take them
+out for a walk sometimes of a morning instead of their going with the
+ayah. That will make a change for you.”
+
+There was a general laugh, but Wilson said manfully, “Very well, Mrs.
+Doolan; I am very fond of youngsters, and I should like to take, anyhow,
+the two eldest out sometimes. I don’t think I should make much hand with
+the other two, but perhaps Richards would like to come in and amuse them
+while we are out; he is just the fellow for young ones.”
+
+There was another laugh, in which Richards joined. “I could carry them
+about on my back, and pretend to be a horse,” he said; “but I don’t know
+that I could amuse them in any other way.”
+
+“You would find that very hot work, Mr. Richards,” Mrs. Doolan said;
+“but I don’t think we shall require such a sacrifice of you. Well, I
+don’t think we shall find it so bad, after all, and I don’t suppose
+it will be for very long; I do not believe in all this talk about
+chupaties, and disaffection, and that sort of thing; I expect in three
+months we shall most of us be back again.”
+
+Ten days later the detachment was settled down in Deennugghur.
+The troops were for the most part under canvas, for there was only
+accommodation for a single company at the station. The two subalterns
+occupied a large square tent, while the other three officers took
+possession of the only three bungalows that were vacant at the station,
+the Doctor having a tent to himself. The Major and Isobel had stayed
+for the first three days with the Hunters, at the end of which time the
+bungalow had been put in perfect order. It was far less commodious than
+that at Cawnpore, but Isobel was well satisfied with it when all their
+belongings had been arranged, and she soon declared that she greatly
+preferred Deennugghur to Cawnpore.
+
+Those at the station heartily welcomed the accession to their numbers,
+and there was an entire absence of the stiffness and formality of a
+large cantonment like Cawnpore, and Isobel was free to run in as she
+chose to spend the morning chatting and working with the Hunters, or
+Mrs. Doolan, or with the other ladies, of whom there were three at the
+station.
+
+A few days after their arrival news came in that the famous man eater,
+which had for a time ceased his ravages and moved off to a different
+part of the country, principally because the natives of the village
+near the jungle had ceased altogether to go out after nightfall, had
+returned, and had carried off herdsmen on two consecutive days.
+
+The Doctor at once prepared for action, and agreed to allow Wilson and
+Richards to accompany him, and the next day the three rode off together
+to Narkeet, to which village the two herdsmen had belonged. Both had
+been killed near the same spot, and the natives had traced the return of
+the tiger to its lair in the jungle with its victims.
+
+The Doctor soon found that the ordinary methods of destroying the tiger
+had been tried again and again without success. Cattle and goats had
+been tied up, and the native shikaris had taken their posts in trees
+close by, and had watched all night; but in vain. Spring traps
+and deadfalls had also been tried, but the tiger seemed absolutely
+indifferent to the attractions of their baits, and always on the lookout
+for snares. The attempts made at a dozen villages near the jungle had
+all been equally unsuccessful.
+
+“It is evident,” the Doctor said, “that the brute cares for nothing but
+human victims. No doubt, if he were very hungry he would take a cow or
+a goat, but we might wait a very long time for that; so the only thing
+that I can see is to act as a bait myself.”
+
+“How will you do that, Doctor?”
+
+“I shall build a sort of cage near the point where the tiger has twice
+entered the jungle. I will take with me in the cage a woman or girl from
+the village. From time to time she shall cry out as if in pain, and
+as the tiger is evidently somewhere in this neighborhood it is likely
+enough he will come out to see about it.
+
+“We must have the cage pretty strong, or I shall never get anyone to sit
+with me; besides, on a dark night, there is no calculating on killing
+to a certainty with the first shot, and it is just as well to be on the
+safe side. In daylight it would be a different matter altogether. I can
+rely upon my weapon when I can see, but on a dark night it is pretty
+well guesswork.”
+
+The villagers were at once engaged to erect a stout cage eight feet
+square and four high, of beams driven into the ground six inches apart,
+and roofed in with strong bars. There was a considerable difficulty in
+getting anyone to consent to sit by the Doctor, but at last the widow
+of one of the men who had been killed agreed for the sum of twenty-five
+rupees to pass the night there, accompanied by her child four years old.
+
+The Doctor’s skill with his rifle was notorious, and it was rather the
+desire of seeing her husband’s death avenged than for the sake of the
+money that she consented to keep watch. There was but one tree suitable
+for the watchers; it stood some forty yards to the right of the cage,
+and it was arranged that both the subalterns should take their station
+in it.
+
+“Now look here, lads,” the Doctor said, “before we start on this
+business, it must be quite settled that you do not fire till you hear
+my rifle. That is the first thing; the second is that you only fire when
+the brute is a fair distance from the cage. If you get excited and blaze
+away anyhow, you are quite as likely to hit me as you are the tiger.
+Now, I object to take any risk whatever on that score. You will have a
+native shikari in the tree with you to point out the tiger, for it is
+twenty to one against your making him out for yourselves. It will be
+quite indistinct, and you have no chance of making out its head or
+anything of that sort, and you have to take a shot at it as best you
+may.
+
+“Remember there must not be a word spoken. If the brute does come,
+it will probably make two or three turns round the cage before it
+approaches it, and may likely enough pass close to you, but in no case
+fire. You can’t make sure of killing it, and if it were only wounded
+it would make off into the jungle, and all our trouble would be thrown
+away. Also remember you must not smoke; the tiger would smell it half
+a mile away, and, besides, the sound of a match striking would be quite
+sufficient to set him on his guard.”
+
+“There is no objection, I hope, Doctor, to our taking up our flasks; we
+shall want something to keep us from going to sleep.”
+
+“No, there is no objection to that,” the Doctor said; “but mind you
+don’t go to sleep, for if you did you might fall off your bough and
+break your neck, to say nothing of the chance of the tiger happening to
+be close at hand at the time.”
+
+Late in the afternoon the Doctor went down to inspect the cage, and
+pronounced it sufficiently strong. Half an hour before nightfall he and
+the woman and child took their places in it, and the two beams in the
+roof that had been left unfastened to allow of their entry were securely
+lashed in their places by the villagers. Wilson and Richards were helped
+up into the tree, and took their places upon two boughs which sprang
+from the trunk close to each other at a height of some twelve feet from
+the ground. The shikari who was to wait with them crawled out, and with
+a hatchet chopped off some of the small boughs and foliage so as to give
+them a clear view of the ground for some distance round the cage, which
+was erected in the center of a patch of brushwood, the lower portion
+of which had been cleared out so that the Doctor should have an
+uninterrupted view round. The boughs and leaves were gathered up by the
+villagers, and carried away by them, and the watch began.
+
+“Confound it,” Richards whispered to his companion after night fell, “it
+is getting as dark as pitch; I can scarcely make out the clump where the
+cage is. I should hardly see an elephant if it were to come, much less a
+brute like a tiger.”
+
+“We shall get accustomed to it presently,” Wilson replied; “at any rate
+make quite sure of the direction in which the cage is in; it is better
+to let twenty tigers go than to run the risk of hitting the Doctor.”
+
+In another hour their eyes had become accustomed to the darkness, and
+they could not only see the clump in which the cage was clearly, but
+could make out the outline of the bush all round the open space in which
+it stood. Both started as a loud and dismal wail rose suddenly in the
+air, followed by a violent crying.
+
+“By Jove, how that woman made me jump!” Wilson said; “it sounded quite
+awful, and she must have pinched that poor little beggar of hers pretty
+sharply to make him yell like that.”
+
+A low “hush!” from the shikari at his elbow warned Wilson that he
+was speaking too loudly. Hours passed by, the cries being raised at
+intervals.
+
+“It is enough to give one the jumps, Richards; each time she yells I
+nearly fall off my branch.”
+
+“Keep on listening, then it won’t startle you.”
+
+“A fellow can’t keep on listening,” Wilson grumbled; “I listen each time
+until my ears begin to sing, and I feel stupid and sleepy, and then she
+goes off again like a steam whistle; that child will be black and blue
+all over in the morning.”
+
+A warning hiss from the shikari again induced Wilson to silence.
+
+“I don’t believe the brute is coming,” he whispered, an hour later. “If
+it wasn’t for this bough being so hard I should drop off to sleep; my
+eyes ache with staring at those bushes.”
+
+As he spoke the shikari touched him on the shoulder and pointed.
+“Tiger,” he whispered; and then did the same to Richards. Grasping their
+rifles, they gazed in the direction in which he pointed, but could for
+some time make out nothing. Then they saw a dim gray mass in front of
+the bushes, directly on the opposite side of the open space; then from
+the cage, lying almost in a direct line between it and them, rose the
+cry of the child. They were neither of them at all certain that the
+object at which they were gazing was the tiger. It seemed shapeless,
+the outline fading away in the bush; but they felt sure that they had
+noticed nothing like it in that direction before.
+
+For two or three minutes they remained in uncertainty, then the outline
+seemed to broaden, and it moved noiselessly. There could be no mistake
+now; the tiger had been attracted by the cries, and as it moved along
+they could see that it was making a circuit of the spot from whence the
+sounds proceeded, to reconnoiter before advancing towards its prey. It
+kept close to the line of bushes, and sometimes passed behind some of
+them. The shikari pressed their shoulders, and a low hiss enforced the
+necessity for absolute silence. The two young fellows almost held
+their breath; they had lost sight of the tiger now, but knew it must be
+approaching them.
+
+For two or three minutes they heard and saw nothing, then the shikari
+pointed beyond them, and they almost started as they saw the tiger
+retreating, and knew that it must have passed almost under them without
+their noticing it. At last it reached the spot at which they had first
+seen it. The child’s cry, but this time low and querulous, again rose.
+With quicker steps than before it moved on, but still not directly
+towards the center, to the great relief of the two subalterns, who had
+feared that it might attack from such a direction that they would not
+dare to fire for fear of hitting the cage. Fortunately it passed that
+point, and, crouching, moved towards the bushes.
+
+Wilson and Richards had their rifles now at their shoulders, but, in the
+feeble and uncertain light, felt by no means sure of hitting their
+mark, though it was but some thirty yards away. Almost breathlessly they
+listened for the Doctor’s rifle, but both started when the flash and
+sharp crack broke on the stillness. There was a sudden snarl of pain,
+the tiger gave a spring in the air, and then fell, rolling over and
+over.
+
+“It is not killed!” the shikari exclaimed. “Fire when it gets up.”
+
+Suddenly it rose to its feet, and with a loud roar sprang towards the
+thicket. The two subalterns fired, but the movements of the dimly seen
+creature were so swift that they felt by no means sure that they had hit
+it. Then came, almost simultaneously, a loud shriek from the woman, of
+a very different character to the long wails she had before uttered,
+followed by a sound of rending and tearing.
+
+“He is breaking down the cage!” Richards exclaimed excitedly, as he and
+Wilson hastened to ram another cartridge down their rifles. “Come, we
+must go and help the Doctor.”
+
+But a moment later came another report of a rifle, and then all was
+silent. Then the Doctor’s voice was heard.
+
+“Don’t get down from the tree yet, lads; I think he is dead, but it is
+best to make sure first.”
+
+There was a pause, and then another rifle shot, followed by the shout
+“All right; he is as dead as a door nail now. Mind your rifles as you
+climb down.”
+
+“Fancy thinking of that,” Wilson said, “when you have just killed a
+tiger! I haven’t capped mine yet; have you, Richards?”
+
+“I have just put it on, but will take it off again. Here, old man, you
+get down first, and we will hand the guns to you.”--this to the shikari.
+
+With some difficulty they scrambled down from the tree.
+
+“Now we may as well cap our rifles,” Richards said; “the brute may not
+be dead after all.”
+
+They approached the bush cautiously.
+
+“You are quite sure he is dead, Doctor?”
+
+“Quite sure; do you think I don’t know when a tiger is dead?”
+
+Still holding their guns in readiness to fire, they approached the
+bushes.
+
+“You can do no good until the villagers come with torches,” the
+Doctor said; “the tiger is dead enough, but it is always as well to be
+prudent.”
+
+The shikari had uttered a loud cry as he sprang down from the tree, and
+this had been answered by shouts from the distance. In a few minutes
+lights were seen through the trees, and a score of men with torches and
+lanterns ran up with shouts of satisfaction.
+
+As soon as they arrived the two young officers advanced to the cage.
+On the top a tiger was lying stretched out as if in sleep; with some
+caution they approached it and flashed a torch in its eyes. There was
+no doubt that it was dead. The body was quickly rolled off the cage, and
+then a dozen hands cut the lashing and lifted the top bars, which was
+deeply scored by the tiger’s claws, and the Doctor emerged.
+
+“I am glad to be out of that,” he said; “six hours in a cage with a
+woman and a crying brat is no joke.”
+
+As soon as the Doctor had got out, the subalterns eagerly examined the
+tiger, upon which the natives were heaping curses and execrations.
+
+“How many wounds has it got?” they asked the Doctor, who repeated the
+question to the shikari in his own language.
+
+“Three, sahib. One full in the chest--it would have been mortal--two
+others in the ribs by the heart.”
+
+“No others?” the subalterns exclaimed in disgust, as the answer was
+translated to them. The Doctor himself examined the tiger.
+
+“No; you both missed, lads, but you need not be ashamed of that; it is
+no easy matter to hit a tiger even at a short distance on a dark night
+like this, when you can scarce make him out, and can’t see the barrel of
+your rifle. I ought to have told you to rub a little phosphorus off the
+head of a match onto the sight. I am so accustomed to do it myself as
+a matter of course that I did not think of telling you. Well, I am
+heartily glad we have killed it, for by all accounts it has done an
+immense deal of damage.”
+
+“It has been a fine tiger in its time, although its skin doesn’t look
+much,” Wilson said; “there are patches of fur off.”
+
+“That is generally the case with man eaters. They are mostly old tigers
+who take, when they get past their strength, to killing men. I don’t
+know whether the flesh doesn’t agree with them, but they are almost
+always mangy.”
+
+“We were afraid for a moment,” Richards said, “that the tiger was going
+to break into your cage; we heard him clawing away at the timber, and as
+you didn’t fire again we were afraid something was the matter.”
+
+“The mother was,” the Doctor said testily. “The moment the tiger sprang,
+the woman threw herself down at full length right on the top of my
+second rifle, and when I went to push her off I think she fancied the
+tiger had got hold of her, for she gave a yell that fairly made me jump.
+I had to push her off by main force, and then lie down on my back, so as
+to get the rifle up to fire. I was sure the first shot was fatal, for I
+knew just where his heart would be, but I dropped a second cartridge in,
+and gave him another bullet so as to make sure. Well, if either of
+you want his head or his claws, you had better say so at once, for the
+natives will be singeing his whiskers off directly; the practice is a
+superstition of theirs.”
+
+“No, I don’t want them,” Wilson said. “If I had put a bullet into the
+brute, so that I could have said I helped to kill him, I should have
+liked the head to get it preserved and sent home to my people, but as it
+is the natives are welcome to it as far as I am concerned.”
+
+Richards was of the same opinion, and so without further delay they
+started back for the village, where, upon their arrival, they were
+greeted with cries of joy by the women, the news having already been
+carried back by a boy.
+
+“Poor beggars!” the Doctor said. “They have been living a life of terror
+for weeks. They must feel as if they had woke from a nightmare. Now,
+lads, we will have some supper. I dare say you are ready for it, and I
+am sure I am.”
+
+“Is there any chance for supper, Doctor?--why, it must be two o’clock in
+the morning.”
+
+“Of course there is,” the Doctor replied. “I gave orders to my man to
+begin to warm up the food as soon as he heard a gun fired, and I will
+guarantee he has got everything ready by this time.”
+
+After a hearty meal and a cigar they lay down for a few hours’ sleep,
+and at daybreak rode back to Deennugghur, the two subalterns rather
+crestfallen at their failure to have taken any active part in killing
+the tiger that had so long been a terror to the district.
+
+“It was an awful sell missing him, Miss Hannay; I wanted to have had the
+claws mounted as a necklace; I thought you would have liked it.”
+
+“I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Wilson, but I would much rather not
+have had them. If the tiger hadn’t been a man eater I should not have
+minded, but I should never have worn as an ornament claws that had
+killed lots of people--women and children too.”
+
+“No, I never thought of that, Miss Hannay; it wouldn’t have been
+pleasant, now one thinks of it; still, I wish I had put a bullet into
+him.”
+
+“No doubt you will do better next time, Mr. Wilson. The Doctor has been
+telling me that it is extremely difficult to hit an animal in the dark
+when you are not accustomed to that sort of shooting. He says he was in
+a great fright all the time he was lying in the cage, and that it was an
+immense relief to him when he heard your rifles go off, and found that
+he wasn’t hit.”
+
+“That is too bad of him, Miss Hannay,” Wilson laughed; “we were not such
+duffers as all that. I don’t believe he really did think so.”
+
+“I am sure he was in earnest, Mr. Wilson. He said he should have felt
+quite safe if it had been daylight, but that in the dark people really
+can’t see which way the rifles are pointed, and that he remembered he
+had not told you to put phosphorus on the sights.”
+
+“It was too bad of him,” Wilson grumbled; “it would have served him
+right if one of the bullets had hit a timber of the cage and given him
+a start; I should like to have seen the Doctor struggling in the dark
+to get his second rifle from under the woman, with the tiger clawing and
+growling two feet above him.”
+
+“The Doctor didn’t tell me about that,” Isobel laughed; “though he said
+he had a woman and child with him to attract the tiger.”
+
+“It would have frightened any decent minded tiger, Miss Hannay, instead
+of attracting it; for such dismal yells as that woman made I never
+listened to. I nearly tumbled off the tree at the first of them, it made
+me jump so, and it gave me a feeling of cold water running down my back.
+As to the child, I don’t know whether she pinched it or the doctor stuck
+pins into it, but the poor little brute howled in the most frightful
+way. I don’t think I shall ever want to go tiger shooting in the dark
+again; I ache all over today as if I had been playing in the first
+football match of the season, from sitting balancing myself on that
+branch; I was almost over half a dozen times.”
+
+“I expect you nearly went off to sleep, Mr. Wilson.”
+
+“I think I should have gone to sleep if it hadn’t been for that woman,
+Miss Hannay. I should not have minded if I could have smoked, but to
+sit there hour after hour and not be able to smoke, and not allowed to
+speak, and staring all the time into the darkness till your eyes ached,
+was trying, I can tell you; and after all that, not to hit the brute was
+too bad.”
+
+The days passed quietly at Deennugghur. They were seldom alone at Major
+Hannay’s bungalow in the evening, for Wilson and Richards generally came
+in to smoke a cigar in the veranda; the Doctor was a regular visitor,
+when he was not away in pursuit of game, and Bathurst was also often one
+of the party.
+
+“Mr. Bathurst is coming out wonderfully, Miss Hannay,” Mrs. Hunter
+said one day, as Isobel sat working with her, while the two girls were
+practicing duets on a piano in the next room. “We used to call him
+the hermit, he was so difficult to get out of his cell. We were quite
+surprised when he accepted our invitation to dinner yesterday.”
+
+“I think Dr. Wade has stirred him up,” Isobel said calmly; “he is a
+great favorite of the Doctor’s.”
+
+Mrs. Hunter smiled over her work. “Perhaps so, my dear; anyhow, I am
+glad he has come out, and I hope he won’t retire into his cell again
+after you have all gone.”
+
+“I suppose it depends a good deal upon his work,” Isobel said.
+
+“My experience of men is that they can always make time if they like, my
+dear. When a man says he is too busy to do this, that, or the other, you
+may always safely put it down that he doesn’t want to do it. Of course,
+it is just the same thing with ourselves. You often hear women say they
+are too busy to attend to all sorts of things that they ought to attend
+to, but the same women can find plenty of time to go to every pleasure
+gathering that comes off. There is no doubt that Mr. Bathurst is really
+fond of work, and that he is an indefatigable civil servant of the
+Company, but that would not prevent him making an hour or two’s time
+of an evening, occasionally, if he wanted to. However, he seems to have
+turned over a new leaf, and I hope it will last. In a small station like
+this, even one man is of importance, especially when he is as pleasant
+as Mr. Bathurst can be when he likes. He was in the army at one time,
+you know.”
+
+“Was he, Mrs. Hunter?”
+
+“Yes. I never heard him say so himself, but I have heard so from several
+people. I think he was only in it for a year or so. I suppose he did not
+care for it, and can quite imagine he would not, so he sold out, and
+a short time afterwards obtained a civil appointment. He has very good
+interest; his father was General Bathurst, who was, you know, a very
+distinguished officer. So he had no difficulty in getting into our
+service, where he is entirely in his element. His father died two
+years ago, and I believe he came into a good property at home. Everyone
+expected he would have thrown up his appointment, but it made no
+difference to him, and he just went on as before, working as if he had
+to depend entirely on the service.”
+
+“I can quite understand that,” Isobel said, “to a really earnest man
+a life of usefulness here must be vastly preferable to living at home
+without anything to do or any object in life.”
+
+“Well, perhaps so, my dear, and in theory that is, no doubt, the case;
+but practically, I fancy you would find nineteen men out of twenty, even
+if they are what you call earnest men, retire from the ranks of hard
+workers if they come into a nice property. By the way, you must come in
+here this evening. There is a juggler in the station, and Mr. Hunter has
+told him to come round. The servants say the man is a very celebrated
+juggler, one of the best in India, and as the girls have never seen
+anything better than the ordinary itinerant conjurers, my husband has
+arranged for him to come in here, and we have been sending notes round
+asking everyone to come in. We have sent one round to your place, but
+you must have come out before the chit arrived.”
+
+“Oh, I should like that very much!” Isobel said. “Two or three men came
+to our bungalow at Cawnpore and did some conjuring, but it was nothing
+particular; but uncle says some of them do wonderful things--things that
+he cannot account for at all. That was one of the things I read about at
+school, and thought I should like to see, more than anything in India.
+When I was at school we went in a body, two or three times, to see
+conjurers when they came to Cheltenham. Of course I did not understand
+the things they did, and they seemed wonderful to me, but I know there
+are people who can explain them, and that they are only tricks; but
+I have read accounts of things done by jugglers in India that seemed
+utterly impossible to explain--really a sort of magic.”
+
+“I have heard a good many arguments about it,” Mrs. Hunter said; “and
+a good many people, especially those who have seen most of them, are
+of opinion that many of the feats of the Indian jugglers cannot be
+explained by any natural laws we know of. I have seen some very curious
+things myself, but the very fact that I did not understand how they were
+done was no proof they could not be explained; certainly two of their
+commonest tricks, the basket trick and the mango, have never been
+explained. Our conjurers at home can do something like them, but then
+that is on a stage, where they can have trapdoors and all sorts of
+things, while these are done anywhere--in a garden, on a road--where
+there could be no possible preparation, and with a crowd of lookers on
+all round; it makes me quite uncomfortable to look at it.”
+
+“Well, I must be off now, Mrs. Hunter; it is nearly time for uncle to be
+back, and he likes me to be in when he returns.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Dr. Wade was sitting in the veranda smoking and reading an English paper
+that had arrived by that morning’s mail, when Isobel returned.
+
+“Good morning, Doctor. Is uncle back?”
+
+“Not yet. He told me he might be half an hour late, and that I was to
+come round and amuse you until he came back.”
+
+“So in my absence you have been amusing yourself, Doctor. I have been
+round at Mrs. Hunter’s; she is going to have a juggler there this
+evening, and we are all to go.”
+
+“Yes, I got a chit from her this morning. I have seen scores of them,
+but I make a point of never missing an exhibition when I get the chance.
+I hate anything I don’t understand, and I go with the faint hope of
+being able to find things out, though I know perfectly well that I shall
+not do so.”
+
+“Then you think it is not all quite natural, Doctor?”
+
+“I don’t say it is not natural, because we don’t know what all the
+natural laws are, but I say that some of the things I have seen
+certainly are not to be accounted for by anything we do know. It is not
+often that the jugglers show their best tricks to the whites--they know
+that, as a rule, we are altogether skeptical; but I have seen at native
+courts more than once the most astounding things--things absolutely
+incomprehensible and inexplicable. I don’t suppose we are going to see
+anything of that sort tonight, though Mrs. Hunter said in her note that
+they had heard from the native servant that this man was a famous one.
+
+“There is a sect of people in India, I don’t mean a caste, but a sort
+of secret society, who, I believe, claim to be able by some sort of
+influence to suspend altogether the laws of nature. I do not say that
+I believe them--as a scientific man, it is my duty not to believe
+them; but I have seen such things done by some of the higher class of
+jugglers, and that under circumstances that did not seem to admit of
+the possibility of deception, that I am obliged to suspend my judgment,
+which, as you may imagine, my dear, is exceedingly annoying to me; but
+some of them do possess to a considerable extent what the Scotch call
+second sight, that is to say, the power of foreseeing events in the
+future. Of that I am morally certain; I have seen proofs of it over and
+over again. For example, once an old fakir, whom I had cured of a badly
+ulcerated limb, came up just as I was starting on a shooting expedition.
+
+“‘Do not go out today,’ he said. ‘I foresee evil for you. I saw you last
+night brought back badly wounded.’
+
+“‘But if I don’t go your dream will come wrong,’ I said.
+
+“He shook his head.
+
+“‘You will go in spite of what I say,’ he said; ‘and you will suffer,
+and others too;’ and he looked at a group of shikaris, who were standing
+together, ready to make a start.
+
+“‘How many men are there?’ he said.
+
+“‘Why, six of course,’ I replied.
+
+“‘I see only three,’ he said, ‘and three dull spots. One of those I
+see is holding his matchlock on his shoulder, another is examining his
+priming, the third is sitting down by the tire. Those three will come
+back at the end of the day; the other three will not return alive.’
+
+“I felt rather uncomfortable, but I wasn’t, as I said to myself--I was a
+good deal younger then, my dear--such a fool as to be deterred from what
+promised to be a good day’s sport by such nonsense as this; and I went.
+
+“We were going after a rogue elephant that had been doing a lot of
+damage among the natives’ plantations. We found him, and a savage brute
+he turned out to be. He moved just as I fired, and though I hit him, it
+was not on the fatal spot, and he charged right down among us. He caught
+the very three men the fakir said were doomed, and dashed the life out
+of them; then he came at me. The bearer had run off with my second gun,
+and he seized me and flung me up in the air.
+
+“I fell in a tree, but broke three of my ribs and one of my arms;
+fortunately, though the beast tried to get at me, I was out of his
+reach, and the tree was too strong for him to knock down. Then another
+man who was with me came up and killed him, and they got me down and
+carried me back, and I was weeks before I was about again. That was
+something more than a coincidence, I think. There were some twenty men
+out with us, and just the four he had pointed out were hurt, and no
+others.
+
+“I have seen scores of other cases in which these predictions have
+come true, especially in cases of disease; though I grant that here the
+predictions often bring about their own fulfilment. If a native is told
+by a fakir, or holy man, that he is going to die, he makes no struggle
+to live. In several cases I have seen natives, whose deaths have been
+predicted, die, without, as far as my science could tell me, any disease
+or ailment whatever that should have been fatal to them. They simply
+sank--died, I should say, from pure fright. But putting aside this
+class, I have seen enough to convince me that some at least among these
+fanatics do possess the power of second sight.”
+
+“That is very extraordinary, Doctor. Of course I have heard of second
+sight among certain old people in Scotland, but I did not believe in
+it.”
+
+“I should not have believed in it if I had not seen the same thing here
+in India. I naturally have been interested in it, and have read pretty
+well everything that has been written about second sight among the
+Highlanders; and some of the incidents are so well authenticated that I
+scarcely see how they can be denied. Of course, there is no accounting
+for it, but it is possible that among what we may call primitive people
+there are certain intuitions or instincts, call them what you like, that
+have been lost by civilized people.
+
+“The power of scent in a dog is something so vastly beyond anything we
+can even imagine possible, that though we put it down to instinct, it is
+really almost inexplicable. Take the case that dogs have been known to
+be taken by railway journeys of many hundred miles and to have found
+their way home again on foot. There is clearly the possession of a power
+which is to us absolutely unaccountable.
+
+“But here comes your uncle; he will think I have been preaching a sermon
+to you if you look so grave.”
+
+But Major Hannay was too occupied with his own thoughts to notice
+Isobel.
+
+“Has anything gone wrong, Major?” the Doctor asked, as he saw his face.
+
+“I have just learnt,” the Major said, “that some more chupaties were
+brought last night. It is most annoying. I have questioned several of
+the native officers, and they profess to have no idea whence they came
+or what is the meaning of them. I wish we could get to the bottom of
+this thing; it keeps the troops in a ferment. If I could get hold of one
+of these messengers, I would get out of him all he knew, even if I had
+to roast him to make him tell.”
+
+“My dear uncle,” Isobel said reprovingly, “I am sure you don’t mean what
+you say.”
+
+“I don’t know,” he said, half laughing; “I should certainly consider
+myself perfectly justified in taking uncommonly strong steps to try
+to get to the bottom of this business. The thing is going on all over
+India, and it must mean something, and it is all the worse if taken in
+connection with this absurd idea about the greased cartridges. I grant
+that it was an act of folly greasing them at all, when we know the
+idiotic prejudices the natives have; still, it could hardly have
+been foreseen that this stir would have been made. The issue of the
+cartridges has been stopped, but when the natives once get an idea into
+their minds it is next to impossible to disabuse them of it. It is a
+tiresome business altogether.”
+
+“Tiffin ready, sahib,” Rumzan interrupted, coming out onto the veranda.
+
+“That is right, Rumzan. Now, Isobel, let us think of more pleasant
+subjects.”
+
+“We are to go into the Hunters’ this evening, uncle,” Isobel said, as
+she sat down. “There is going to be a famous juggler there. There is a
+note for you from Mrs. Hunter on the side table.”
+
+“Very well, my dear; some of these fellows are well worth seeing.
+Bathurst is coming in to dinner. I saw him as he was starting this
+morning, just as he was going down to the lines, and he accepted. He
+said he should be able to get back in time. However, I don’t suppose he
+will mind going round with us. I hope you will come, Doctor, to make up
+the table. I have asked the two boys to come in.”
+
+“I shall have to become a permanent boarder at your establishment,
+Major. It is really useless my keeping a cook when I am in here nearly
+half my time. But I will come. I am off for three days tomorrow. A
+villager came in this morning to beg me to go out to rid them of a
+tiger that has established himself in their neighborhood, and that is an
+invitation I never refuse, if I can possibly manage to make time for it.
+Fortunately everyone is so healthy here at present that I can be very
+well spared.”
+
+At dinner the subject of juggling came up again, and the two subalterns
+expressed their opinion strongly that it was all humbug.
+
+“Dr. Wade believes in it, Mr. Wilson,” Isobel said.
+
+“You don’t say so, Doctor; I should have thought you were the last sort
+of man who would have believed in conjurers.”
+
+“It requires a wise man to believe, Wilson,” the Doctor said; “any fool
+can scoff; the wise man questions. When you have been here as long as
+I have, and if you ever get as much sense as I have, which is doubtful,
+you may be less positive in your ideas, if you can call them ideas.”
+
+“That is one for me,” Wilson said good humoredly, while the others
+laughed.
+
+“Well, I have never seen them, Doctor, except those fellows who come
+around to the veranda, and I have seen conjurers at home do ever so much
+better tricks than they.”
+
+“What do you think of them, Mr. Bathurst?” Isobel asked. “I suppose you
+have seen some of the better sort?”
+
+“I do not know what to think of them, Miss Hannay. I used to be rather
+of Wilson’s opinion, but I have seen things since that I could not
+account for at all. There was a man here two or three months back who
+astounded me.”
+
+“Mrs. Hunter said that the girls had had no opportunity of seeing a good
+conjurer since they came out, Mr. Bathurst. I suppose they did know this
+man you are speaking of being here?”
+
+“He was only here for a few hours, Miss Hannay. I had happened to
+meet him before, and he gave me a private performance, which was quite
+different to anything I have ever seen, though I had often heard of the
+feats he had performed. I was so impressed with them that I can assure
+you that for a few days I had great difficulty in keeping my mind upon
+my work.”
+
+“What did he do, Mr. Bathurst?”
+
+Bathurst related the feat of the disappearing girl.
+
+“She must have jumped down when you were not looking,” Richards said,
+with an air or conviction.
+
+“Possibly,” Bathurst replied quietly; “but as I was within three or
+four yards of the pole, and it was perfectly distinct in the light of my
+lamp, and as I certainly saw her till she was some thirty or forty
+feet up in the air I don’t see how she can have managed it. For, even
+supposing she could have sprung down that distance without being hurt,
+she would not have come down so noiselessly that I should not have heard
+her.”
+
+“Still, if she did not come down that way, how could she have come?”
+ Wilson said.
+
+“That is exactly what I can’t make out,” Bathurst replied. “If it should
+happen to be the same man, and he will do the same thing again, I fancy
+you will be as much puzzled as I was.”
+
+After dinner was over the party walked across to Mr. Hunter’s bungalow,
+where, in a short time, the other officers, their wives, and all the
+other residents at the station were assembled. Chairs were placed in the
+veranda for the ladies, and a number of lamps hung on the wall, so that
+a strong light was thrown upon the ground in front of it. In addition,
+four posts had been driven into the ground some twenty feet from the
+veranda, and lamps had been fastened upon them.
+
+“I don’t know whether the juggler will like that,” Mr. Hunter said, “and
+I shan’t light them if he objects. I don’t think myself it is quite
+fair having a light behind him; still, if he agrees, it will be hardly
+possible for him to make the slightest movement without being seen.”
+
+The juggler, who was sitting round at the other side of the house, was
+now called up. He and the girl, who followed him, salaamed deeply, and
+made an even deeper bow to Bathurst, who was standing behind Isobel’s
+chair.
+
+“You must have paid them well, Bathurst,” Major Hannay said. “They have
+evidently a lively remembrance of past favors. I suppose they are the
+same you were talking about?”
+
+“Yes, they are the same people, Major.” Then he said in the native
+dialect to the juggler, “Mr. Hunter has put some posts with lamps behind
+you, Rujub, but he hasn’t lit them because he did not know whether you
+would object.”
+
+“They can be lighted, sahib. My feats do not depend on darkness. Any
+of the sahibs who like to stand behind us can do so if they do not come
+within the line of those posts.”
+
+“Let us go out there,” Wilson said to Richards, when the answer was
+translated; “we will light the lamps, and we shall see better there than
+we shall see here.”
+
+The two went round to the other side and lit the lamps, and the servants
+stood a short distance off on either side.
+
+The first trick shown was the well known mango tree. The juggler placed
+a seed in the ground, poured some water upon it from a lota, and covered
+it with a cloth. In two or three minutes he lifted this, and a plant
+four or five inches high was seen. He covered this with a tall basket,
+which he first handed round for inspection. On removing this a mango
+tree some three feet high, in full bloom, was seen. It was again
+covered, and when the basket was removed it was seen to be covered with
+ripe fruit, eliciting exclamations of astonishment from those among the
+spectators who had not before seen the trick performed.
+
+“Now, Wilson,” the Doctor said, “perhaps you will be kind enough to
+explain to us all how this was done?”
+
+“I have no more idea than Adam, Doctor.”
+
+“Then we will leave it to Richards. He promised us at dinner to keep his
+eyes well open.”
+
+Richards made no reply.
+
+“How was it done, Mr. Bathurst? It seems almost like a miracle.”
+
+“I am as ignorant as Wilson is, Miss Hannay. I can’t account for it in
+any way, and I have seen it done a score of times. Ah! now he is going
+to do the basket trick. Don’t be alarmed when you hear the girl cry
+out. You may be quite sure that she is not hurt. The father is deeply
+attached to her, and would not hurt a hair of her head.”
+
+Again the usual methods were adopted. The basket was placed on the
+ground and the girl stepped into it, without the pretense of fear
+usually exhibited by the performers.
+
+Before the trick began Major Hannay said to Captain Doolan, “Come round
+with me to the side of those boys. I know the first time I saw it done
+I was nearly throwing myself on the juggler, and Wilson is a hot headed
+boy, and is likely as not to do so. If he did, the man would probably go
+off in a huff and show us nothing more. From what Bathurst said, we are
+likely to see something unusual.”
+
+As soon as the lid was put down, an apparently angry colloquy took place
+between the juggler and the girl inside. Presently the man appeared to
+become enraged, and snatching up a long, straight sword from the ground,
+ran it three or four times through the basket.
+
+A loud shriek followed the first thrust, and then all was silent.
+
+Some of the ladies rose to their feet with a cry of horror, Isobel among
+them. Wilson and Richards both started to rush forward, but were seized
+by the collars by the Major and Captain Doolan.
+
+“Will you open the basket?” the juggler said quietly to Mrs. Hunter. As
+she had seen the trick before she stepped forward without hesitation,
+opened the lid of the basket and said, “It is empty.” The juggler took
+it up, and held it up, bottom upwards.
+
+“What on earth has become of the girl?” Wilson exclaimed.
+
+As he spoke she passed between him and Richards back to her father’s
+side.
+
+“Well, I am dashed,” Wilson murmured. “I would not have believed it
+if fifty people had sworn to me they had seen it.” He was too much
+confounded even to reply, when the Doctor sarcastically said: “We are
+waiting for your explanation, gentlemen.”
+
+“Will you ask him, Major,” Richards said, as he wiped his forehead with
+his pocket handkerchief, “to make sure that she is solid?”
+
+The Major translated the request, and the girl at once came across, and
+Richards touched her with evident doubt as to whether on not she were
+really flesh and blood.
+
+There was much curiosity among those who had seen jugglers before as
+to what would be the next feat, for generally those just seen were the
+closing ones of a performance, but as these were the first it seemed
+that those to follow must be extraordinary indeed.
+
+The next feat was the one shown to Bathurst, and was performed exactly
+as upon that occasion, except that as the girl rose beyond the circle
+of light she remained distinctly visible, a sort of phosphoric light
+playing around her. Those in the veranda had come out now, the juggler
+warning them not to approach within six feet of the pole.
+
+Higher and higher the girl went, until those below judged her to be at
+least a hundred and fifty feet from the ground. Then the light died out,
+and she disappeared from their sight. There was silence for a minute or
+two, and then the end of the pole could be seen descending without
+her. Another minute, and it was reduced to the length it had been at
+starting.
+
+The spectators were silent now; the whole thing was so strange and
+mysterious that they had no words to express their feeling.
+
+The juggler said something which Mr. Hunter translated to be a request
+for all to resume their places.
+
+“That is a wonderful trick,” the Doctor said to Bathurst. “I have never
+seen it done that way before, but I once saw a juggler throw up a rope
+into the air; how high it went I don’t know, for, like this, it was done
+at night, but it stood up perfectly stiff, and the juggler’s attendant
+climbed up. He went higher and higher, and we could hear his voice
+coming down to us. At last it stopped, and then suddenly the rope fell
+in coils on the ground, and the boy walked quietly in, just as that girl
+has done now.”
+
+The girl now placed herself in the center of the open space.
+
+“You will please not to speak while this trick is being performed,” the
+juggler said; “harm might come of it. Watch the ground near her feet.”
+
+A minute later a dark object made its appearance from the ground. It
+rose higher and higher with an undulating movement.
+
+“By Jove, it is a python!” the Doctor whispered in Bathurst’s ear. A
+similar exclamation broke from several of the others, but the juggler
+waved his hand with an authoritative hush. The snake rose until its head
+towered above that of the girl, and then began to twine itself round
+her, continuously rising from the ground until it enveloped her with
+five coils, each thicker than a man’s arm. It raised its head above hers
+and hissed loudly and angrily; then its tail began to descend, gradually
+the coils unwound themselves; lower and lower it descended until it
+disappeared altogether.
+
+It was some time before anyone spoke, so great was the feeling of
+wonder. The Doctor was the first to break the silence.
+
+“I have never seen that before,” he said, “though I have heard of it
+from a native Rajah.”
+
+“Would the sahibs like to see more?” the juggler asked.
+
+The two Miss Hunters, Mrs. Rintoul, and several of the others said they
+had seen enough, but among the men there was expressed a general wish to
+see another feat.
+
+“I would not have missed this for anything,” the Doctor said. “It would
+be simple madness to throw away such a chance.”
+
+The ladies, therefore, with the exception of Mrs. Hunter, Mrs. Doolan,
+and Isobel, retired into the house.
+
+“You must all go on one side now,” the juggler said, “for it is only on
+one side what I am now going to do can be seen.”
+
+He then proceeded to light a fire of charcoal. When he had done this,
+he said, “The lights must now be extinguished and the curtains drawn, so
+that the light will not stream out from the house.”
+
+As soon as this was done he poured a powder over the fire, and by its
+faint light the cloud of white smoke could be seen.
+
+“Now I will show you the past,” he said. “Who speaks?”
+
+There was silence, and then Dr. Wade said, “Show me my past.”
+
+A faint light stole up over the smoke--it grew brighter and brighter;
+and then a picture was clearly seen upon it.
+
+It was the sea, a house standing by itself in a garden, and separated
+from the water only by a road. Presently the figure of a girl appeared
+at the gate, and, stepping out, looked down the road as if waiting for
+someone. They could make out all the details of her dress and see her
+features distinctly. A low exclamation broke from the Doctor, then the
+picture gradually faded away.
+
+“The future!” the juggler said, and gradually an Indian scene appeared
+on the smoke. It was a long, straight road, bordered by a jungle. A
+native was seen approaching; he paused in the foreground.
+
+“That is you, Doctor!” Mr. Hunter exclaimed; “you are got up as a
+native, but it’s you.”
+
+Almost at the same moment two figures came out from the jungle. They
+were also in native dress.
+
+“You and Miss Hannay,” the Doctor said in a low tone to Bathurst,
+“dressed like a native and dyed.” But no one else detected the disguise,
+and the picture again faded away.
+
+“That is enough, Rujub,” Bathurst said, for he felt Isobel lean back
+heavily against the hand which he held at the back of her chair, and
+felt sure that she had fainted.
+
+“Draw back the curtains, someone; I fancy this has been too much for
+Miss Hannay.”
+
+The curtains were thrown back, and Mrs. Hunter, running in, brought out
+a lamp. The Doctor had already taken his place by Isobel’s side.
+
+“Yes, she has fainted,” he said to Bathurst; “carry her in her chair as
+she is, so that she may be in the room when she comes to.”
+
+This was done.
+
+“Now, gentlemen,” the Doctor said, “you had better light the lamps again
+out here, and leave the ladies and me to get Miss Hannay round.”
+
+When the lamps were lit it was evident that the whole of the men were a
+good deal shaken by what they had seen.
+
+“Well,” Mr. Hunter said, “they told me he was a famous juggler, but that
+beat anything I have seen before. I have heard of such things frequently
+from natives, but it is very seldom that Europeans get a chance of
+seeing them.”
+
+“I don’t want to see anything of the sort again,” Major Hannay said;
+“it shakes one’s notions of things in general. I fancy, Hunter, that
+we shall want a strong peg all round to steady our nerves. I own that I
+feel as shaky as a boy who thinks he sees a ghost on his way through a
+churchyard.”
+
+There was a general murmur of agreement and the materials were quickly
+brought.
+
+“Well, Wilson, what do you and Richards think of it?” the Major went on,
+after he had braced himself up with a strong glass of brandy and water.
+“I should imagine you both feel a little less skeptical than you did two
+hours ago.”
+
+“I don’t know what Richards feels, Major, but I know I feel like a fool.
+I am sorry, Bathurst, for what I said at dinner; but it really didn’t
+seem to me to be possible what you told us about the girl going up into
+the air and not coming down again. Well, after I have seen what I have
+seen this evening, I won’t disbelieve anything I hear in future about
+these natives.”
+
+“It was natural enough that you should be incredulous,” Bathurst said.
+“I should have been just as skeptical as you were when I first came out,
+and I have been astonished now, though I have seen some good jugglers
+before.”
+
+At this moment the Doctor came out again.
+
+“Miss Hannay is all right again now, Major. I am not surprised at her
+fainting; old hand as I am at these matters, and I think that I have
+seen as much or more juggling than any man in India. I felt very queer
+myself, specially at the snake business. As I said, I have seen that
+ascension trick before, but how it is done I have no more idea than a
+child. Those smoke scenes, too, are astonishing. Of course they could be
+accounted for as thrown upon a column of white smoke by a magic lantern,
+but there was certainly no magic lantern here. The juggler was standing
+close to me, and the girl was sitting at his feet. I watched them both
+closely, and certainly they had no apparatus about them by which such
+views could be thrown on the smoke.”
+
+“You recognized the first scene, I suppose, Doctor?” Bathurst asked.
+
+“Perfectly. It took me back twenty-five years. It was a cottage near
+Sidmouth, and was correct in every minute detail. The figure was that of
+the young lady I married four years afterwards. Many a time have I seen
+her standing just like that, as I went along the road to meet her from
+the little inn at which I was stopping; the very pattern of her dress,
+which I need hardly say has never been in my mind all these years, was
+recalled to me.
+
+“Had I been thinking of the scene at the time I could have accounted for
+it somehow, upon the theory that in some way or other the juggler was
+conscious of my thought and reflected it upon the smoke--how, I don’t at
+all mean to say; but undoubtedly there exists, to some extent, the power
+of thought reading. It is a mysterious subject, and one of which we know
+absolutely nothing at present, but maybe in upwards of a hundred years
+mankind will have discovered many secrets of nature in that direction.
+But I certainly was not thinking of that scene when I spoke and said the
+‘past.’ I had no doubt that he would show me something of the past,
+but certainly no particular incident passed through my mind before that
+picture appeared on the smoke.”
+
+“The other was almost as curious, Doctor,” Captain Doolan said, “for
+it was certainly you masquerading as a native. I believe the other was
+Bathurst; it struck me so; and he seemed to be running off with some
+native girl. What on earth could that all mean?”
+
+“It is no use puzzling ourselves about it,” the Doctor said. “It may or
+may not come true. I have no inclination to go about dressed out as a
+native at present, but there is no saying what I may come to. There
+is quite enough for us to wonder at in the other things. The mango and
+basket tricks I have seen a dozen times, and am no nearer now than I
+was at first to understanding them. That ascension trick beats me
+altogether, and there was something horribly uncanny about the snake.”
+
+“Do you think it was a real snake, Doctor?”
+
+“That I cannot tell you, Richards. Every movement was perfectly natural.
+I could see the working of the ribs as it wound itself round the girl,
+and the quivering of its tongue as it raised its head above her. At any
+other time I should be ready to take my affidavit that it was a python
+of unusual size, but at the present moment I should not like to give a
+decided opinion about anything connected with the performance.”
+
+“I suppose it is no use asking the juggler any questions, Hunter?” one
+of the other men said.
+
+“Not in the least; they never do answer questions. The higher class of
+jugglers treat their art as a sort of religious mystery, and there is
+no instance known of their opening their lips, although large sums have
+frequently been offered them. In the present case you will certainly ask
+no questions, for the man and girl have both disappeared with the box
+and apparatus and everything connected with them. They must have
+slipped off directly the last trick was over, and before we had the lamp
+lighted. I sent after him at once, but the servant could find no signs
+of him. I am annoyed because I have not paid them.”
+
+“I am not surprised at that,” Dr. Wade said. “It is quite in accordance
+with what I have heard of them. They live by exhibiting what you may
+call their ordinary tricks; but I have heard from natives that when they
+show any what I may call supernatural feats, they do not take money. It
+is done to oblige some powerful Rajah, and as I have said, it is only on
+a very few occasions that Europeans have ever seen them. Well, we may as
+well go in to the ladies. I don’t fancy any of them would be inclined to
+come out onto the veranda again this evening.”
+
+No one was indeed inclined even for talk, and in a very short time the
+party broke up and returned home.
+
+“Come and smoke a pipe with me, Bathurst, before you turn in,” the
+Doctor said, as they went out. “I don’t think either of us will be
+likely to go to sleep for some time. What is your impression of all
+this?”
+
+“My impression, certainly, is that it is entirely unaccountable by any
+laws with which we are acquainted, Doctor.”
+
+“That is just my idea, and always has been since I first saw any
+really good juggling out here. I don’t believe in the least in anything
+supernatural, but I can quite believe that there are many natural laws
+of which at present we are entirely ignorant. I believe the knowledge of
+them at one time existed, but has been entirely lost, at any rate among
+Western peoples. The belief in magic is as old as anything we have
+knowledge of. The magicians at the court of Pharaoh threw down their
+rods and turned them into serpents. The Witch of Endor called up the
+spirit of Samuel. The Greeks, by no means a nation of fools, believed
+implicitly in the Oracles. Coming down to comparatively later times, the
+workers of magic burnt their books before St. Paul. It doesn’t say, mind
+you, that those who pretended to work magic did so; but those who worked
+magic.
+
+“Early travelers in Persia and India have reported things they saw far
+surpassing any we have witnessed this evening, and there is certainly a
+sect in India at present, or rather a body of men, and those, as far as
+I have been able to learn, of an exceptionally intelligent class, who
+believe that they possess an almost absolute mastery over the powers of
+nature. You see, fifty years back, if anyone had talked about traveling
+at fifty miles an hour, or sending a message five thousand miles in a
+minute, he would have been regarded as a madman. There may yet be other
+discoveries as startling to be made.
+
+“When I was in England I heard something of a set of people in America
+who called themselves Spiritualists, some of whom--notably a young man
+named Home--claimed to have the power of raising themselves through
+the air. I am far from saying that such a power exists; it is of course
+contrary to what we know of the laws of nature, but should such a power
+exist it would account for the disappearance of the girl from the top
+of the pole. Highland second sight, carried somewhat farther, and united
+with the power of conveying the impressions to others, would account
+for the pictures on the smoke, that is, supposing them to be true, and
+personally I own that I expect they will prove to be true--unlikely as
+it may seem that you, I, and Miss Hannay will ever be going about in
+native attire.”
+
+By this time they had reached the Doctor’s bungalow, and had comfortably
+seated themselves.
+
+“There is one thing that flashed across me this evening,” Bathurst said.
+“I told you, that first evening I met Miss Hannay, that I had a distinct
+knowledge of her face. You laughed at me at the time, and it certainly
+seemed absurd, but I was convinced I was not wrong. Now I know how it
+was; I told you at dinner today about the feat of the girl going up and
+not coming down again; but I did not tell you--for you can understand it
+is a thing that I should not care to talk much about--that he showed me
+a picture like those we saw tonight.
+
+“It was a house standing in a courtyard, with a high wall round it. I
+did not particularly observe the house. It was of the ordinary native
+type, and might, for anything I know, be the house in the middle of this
+station used as a courthouse by Hunter, and for keeping stores, and
+so on. I don’t say it was that; I did not notice it much. There was a
+breach in the outside wall, and round it there was a fierce fight going
+on. A party of officers and civilians were repelling the assault of a
+body of Sepoys. On the terraced roof of the house others were standing
+firing and looking on, and I think engaged in loading rifles were two or
+three women. One of them I particularly noticed; and, now I recall it,
+her face was that of Miss Hannay; of that I am absolutely certain.”
+
+“It is curious, lad,” the Doctor said, after a pause; “and the picture,
+you see, has so far come true that you have made the acquaintance with
+one of the actors whom you did not previously know.”
+
+“I did not believe in the truth of it, Doctor, and I do not believe in
+it now. There was one feature in the fight which was, as I regret to
+know, impossible.”
+
+“And what was that, Bathurst?”
+
+Bathurst was silent for a time.
+
+“You are an old friend, Doctor, and you will understand my case, and
+make more allowances for it than most people would. When I first came
+out here I dare say you heard some sort of reports as to why I had left
+the army and had afterwards entered the Civil Service.”
+
+“There were some stupid rumors,” the Doctor said, “that you had gone
+home on sick leave just after the battle of Chillianwalla, and had then
+sold out, because you had shown the white feather. I need not say that I
+did not give any credit to it; there is always gossip flying about as to
+the reasons a man leaves the army.”
+
+“It was quite true, Doctor. It is a hideous thing to say, but
+constitutionally I am a coward.”
+
+“I cannot believe it,” the Doctor said warmly. “Now that I know you, you
+are the last man of whom I would credit such a thing.”
+
+“It is the bane of my life,” Bathurst went on. “It is my misfortune,
+for I will not allow it is my fault. In many things I am not a coward.
+I think I could face any danger if the danger were a silent one, but I
+cannot stand noise. The report of a gun makes me tremble all over, even
+when it is a blank cartridge that is fired. When I was born my father
+was in India. A short time before I came into the world my mother had a
+great fright. Her house in the country was broken into by burglars, who
+entered the room and threatened to blow out her brains if she moved;
+but the alarm was given, the men servants came down armed, there was
+a struggle in her room, pistol shots were fired, and the burglars
+were overpowered and captured. My mother fainted and was ill for weeks
+afterwards--in fact, until the time I was born; and she died a few days
+later, never having, the doctor said, recovered from the shock she had
+suffered that night.
+
+“I grew up a weakly, timid boy--the sort of boy that is always bullied
+at school. My father, as you know, was a general officer, and did
+not return home until I was ten years old. He was naturally much
+disappointed in me, and I think that added to my timidity, for it grew
+upon me rather than otherwise. Morally, I was not a coward. At school I
+can say that I never told a lie to avoid punishment, and my readiness to
+speak the truth did not add to my popularity among the other boys, and I
+used to be called a sneak, which was even more hateful than being called
+a coward.
+
+“As I grew up I shook off my delicacy, and grew, as you see, into a
+strong man. I then fought several battles at school; I learnt to ride,
+and came to have confidence in myself, and though I had no particular
+fancy for the army my father’s heart was so set on it that I offered no
+objection. That the sound of a gun was abhorrent to me I knew, for the
+first time my father put a gun in my hand and I fired it, I fainted, and
+nothing would persuade me to try again. Still I thought that this was
+the result of nervousness as to firing it myself, and that I should get
+over it in time.
+
+“A month or two after I was gazetted I went out to India with the
+regiment, and arrived just in time to get up by forced marches to take
+part in the battle of Chillianwalla. The consequence was that up to that
+time I literally had heard no musketry practice.
+
+“Of the events of that battle I have no remembrance whatever; from
+the moment the first gun was fired to the end of the day I was as one
+paralyzed. I saw nothing, I heard nothing, I moved mechanically; but
+happily my will or my instinct kept me in my place in the regiment.
+When all was over, and silence followed the din, I fell to the ground
+insensible. Happily for me the doctors declared I was in a state of high
+fever, and I so remained for a fortnight. As soon as I got better I was
+sent down the country, and I at once sent in my papers and went home. No
+doubt the affair was talked of, and there were whispers as to the real
+cause of my illness. My father was terribly angry when I returned home
+and told him the truth of the matter. That his son should be a coward
+was naturally an awful blow to him. Home was too unhappy to be endured,
+and when an uncle of mine, who was a director on the Company’s Board,
+offered me a berth in the Civil Service, I thankfully accepted it,
+believing that in that capacity I need never hear a gun fired again.
+
+“You will understand, then, the anxiety I am feeling owing to these
+rumors of disaffection among the Sepoys, and the possibility of anything
+like a general mutiny.
+
+“It is not of being killed that I have any fear; upon the contrary, I
+have suffered so much in the last eight years from the consciousness
+that the reason why I left the army was widely known, that I should
+welcome death, if it came to me noiselessly; but the thought that if
+there is trouble I shall assuredly not be able to play my part like a
+man fills me with absolute horror, and now more than ever.
+
+“So you will understand now why the picture I saw, in which I was
+fighting in the middle of the Sepoys, is to me not only improbable, but
+simply impossible. It is a horrible story to have to tell. This is the
+first time I have opened my lips on the subject since I spoke to my
+father, but I know that you, both as a friend and a doctor, will pity
+rather than blame me.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+
+As Bathurst brought his story to its conclusion the Doctor rose and
+placed his hand kindly on his shoulder.
+
+“I certainly should not think of blaming you, Bathurst. What you tell
+me is indeed a terrible misfortune, situated as we may be soon, though
+I trust and believe that all this talk about the Sepoys is moonshine.
+I own that I am surprised at your story, for I should have said from
+my knowledge of you that though, as I could perceive, of a nervous
+temperament, you were likely to be cool and collected in danger. But
+certainly your failing is no fault of your own.”
+
+“That is but a small consolation to me, Doctor. Men do not ask why
+and wherefore--they simply point the finger of scorn at a coward. The
+misfortune is that I am here. I might have lived a hundred lives in
+England and never once had occasion to face danger, and I thought that I
+should have been equally secure as an Indian civilian. Now this trouble
+is coming upon us.”
+
+“Why don’t you take your leave, lad? You have been out seven years now
+without a day’s relaxation, except indeed, the three days you were over
+with me at Cawnpore. Why not apply for a year’s leave? You have a good
+excuse, too; you did not go home at the death of your father, two years
+ago, and could very well plead urgent family affairs requiring your
+presence in England.”
+
+“No, I will not do that, Doctor; I will not run away from danger again.
+You understand me, I have not the least fear of the danger; I in no way
+hold to my life; I do not think I am afraid of physical pain. It seems
+to me that I could undertake any desperate service; I dread it
+simply because I know that when the din of battle begins my body will
+overmaster my mind, and that I shall be as I was at Chillianwalla,
+completely paralyzed. You wondered tonight why that juggler should have
+exhibited feats seldom, almost never, shown to Europeans? He did it
+to please me. I saved his daughter’s life--this is between ourselves,
+Doctor, and is not to go farther. But, riding in from Narkeet, I heard a
+cry, and, hurrying on, came upon that man eater you shot the other
+day, standing over the girl, with her father half beside himself,
+gesticulating in front of him. I jumped off and attacked the brute
+with my heavy hunting whip, and he was so completely astonished that he
+turned tail and bolted.”
+
+“The deuce he did,” the Doctor exclaimed; “and yet you talk of being a
+coward!”
+
+“No, I do not say that I am a coward generally; as long as I have to
+confront danger without noise I believe I could do as well as most men.”
+
+“But why didn’t you mention this business with the tiger, Bathurst?”
+
+“Because, in the first place, it was the work of a mere passing impulse;
+and in the second, because I should have gained credit for being what I
+am not--a brave man. It will be bad enough when the truth becomes
+known, but it would be all the worse if I had been trading on a false
+reputation; therefore I particularly charged Rujub to say nothing about
+the affair to anyone.”
+
+“Well, putting this for a time aside, Bathurst, what do you think of
+that curious scene, you and I and Miss Hannay disguised as natives?”
+
+“Taking it with the one I saw of the attack of Sepoys upon a house, it
+looks to me, Doctor, as if there would be a mutiny, and that that mutiny
+would be attended with partial success, that a portion of the garrison,
+at any rate, will escape, and that Miss Hannay will be traveling down
+the country, perhaps to Cawnpore, in your charge, while I in some way
+shall be with you, perhaps acting as guide.”
+
+“It may possibly be so,” the Doctor agreed. “It is at any rate very
+curious. I wonder whether Miss Hannay recognized herself in the
+disguise.”
+
+“I should hope not, Doctor; if it all comes true there will be enough
+for her to bear without looking forward to that. I should be glad if the
+detachment were ordered back to Cawnpore.”
+
+“Well, I should not have thought that, Bathurst.”
+
+“I know what you mean, Doctor, but it is for that reason I wish they
+were gone. I believe now that you insisted on my coming down to spend
+those three days with you at Cawnpore specially that I might meet her.”
+
+“That is so, Bathurst. I like her so much that I should be very sorry
+to see her throw herself away upon some empty headed fool. I like her
+greatly, and I was convinced that you were just the man to make her
+happy, and as I knew that you had good prospects in England, I thought
+it would be a capital match for her, although you are but a young
+civilian; and I own that of late I have thought things were going on
+very well.”
+
+“Perhaps it might have been so, Doctor, had it not been for this coming
+trouble, which, if our fears are realized, will entirely put an end even
+to the possibility of what you are talking about. I shall be shown to
+be a coward, and I shall do my best to put myself in the way of being
+killed. I should not like to blow my brains out, but if the worst comes
+to the worst I will do that rather than go on living after I have again
+disgraced myself.”
+
+“You look at it too seriously, Bathurst.”
+
+“Not a bit of it, Doctor, and you know it.”
+
+“But if the Sepoys rise, Bathurst, why should they harm their officers?
+They may be discontented, they may have a grievance against the
+Government, they may refuse to obey orders and may disband; but why on
+earth should they attack men who have always been kind to them, whom
+they have followed in battle, and against whom they have not as much as
+a shadow of complaint?”
+
+“I hope it may be so most sincerely,” Bathurst said; “but one never
+can say. I can hardly bring myself to believe that they will attack
+the officers, much less injure women and children. Still, I have a most
+uneasy foreboding of evil.”
+
+“You have heard nothing from the natives as to any coming trouble?”
+
+“Nothing at all, Doctor, and I am convinced that nothing is known among
+them, or at any rate by the great bulk of them. Only one person has ever
+said a word to me that could indicate a knowledge of coming trouble, and
+that was this juggler we saw tonight. I thought nothing of his words at
+the time. That picture he showed me of the attack by Sepoys first gave
+me an idea that his words might mean something. Since then we have heard
+much more of this discontent, and I am convinced now that the words had
+a meaning. They were simple enough. It was merely his assurance, two or
+three times repeated, that he would be ready to repay the service I had
+rendered him with his life. It might have been a mere phrase, and so I
+thought at the time. But I think now he had before him the possibility
+of some event occurring in which he might be able to repay the service I
+had rendered him.”
+
+“There may have been something in it and there may not,” the Doctor
+said; “but, at any rate, Bathurst, he ought to be a potent ally. There
+doesn’t seem any limit to his powers, and he might, for aught one knows,
+be able to convey you away as he did his daughter.”
+
+The Doctor spoke lightly, and then added, “But seriously, the man might
+be of service. These jugglers go among people of all classes. They are
+like the troubadours of the Middle Ages, welcomed everywhere; and they
+no doubt have every opportunity of learning what is going on, and it may
+be that he will be able to give you timely warning should there be any
+trouble at hand.”
+
+“That is possible enough,” Bathurst agreed. “Well, Doctor, I shall be on
+horseback at six, so it is time for me to turn in,” and taking his hat,
+walked across to his own bungalow.
+
+The Doctor sat for some time smoking before he turned into bed. He had
+as he had said, heard rumors, when Bathurst first came out, that he had
+shown the white feather, but he had paid little attention to it at the
+time. They had been together at the first station to which Bathurst was
+appointed when he came out, and he had come to like him greatly; but
+his evident disinclination to join in any society, his absorption in his
+work, and a certain air of gravity unnatural in a young man of twenty,
+had puzzled him. He had at the time come to the conclusion that he
+must have had some unfortunate love affair, or have got into some very
+serious trouble at home. In time that impression had worn off. A young
+man speedily recovers from such a blow, however heavy, but no change had
+taken place in Bathurst, and the Doctor had in time become so accustomed
+to his manner that he had ceased to wonder over it. Now it was all
+explained. He sat thinking over it deeply for an hour, and then laid
+down his pipe.
+
+“It is a terrible pity he came out here,” he said. “Of course it is not
+his fault in the slightest degree. One might as well blame a man for
+being born a hunchback; but if there should be a row out here it will be
+terrible for him. I can quite understand his feeling about it. If I were
+placed as he is, and were called upon to fight, I should take a dose
+of prussic acid at once. Men talk: about their civilization, but we
+are little better than savages in our instincts. Courage is an almost
+useless virtue in a civilized community, but if it is called for, we
+despise a man in whom it is wanting, just as heartily as our tattooed
+ancestors did. Of course, in him it is a purely constitutional failing,
+and I have no doubt he would be as brave as a lion in any other
+circumstances--in fact, the incident of his attacking the tiger with
+that dog whip of his shows that he is so; and yet, if he should fail
+when the lives of women are at stake it would be a kindness to give him
+that dose of prussic acid, especially as Isobel Hannay will be here.
+That is the hardest part of it to him, I can see.”
+
+Three days later the force at Deennugghur was increased by the arrival
+of a troop of native cavalry, under a Captain Forster, who had just
+returned from leave in England.
+
+“Do you know Captain Forster, Doctor?” Isobel Hannay asked, on the
+afternoon of his arrival. “Uncle tells me he is coming to dinner.”
+
+“Then you must look after your heart, my dear. He is one of the best
+looking fellows out here, a dashing soldier, and a devoted servant of
+the fair sex.”
+
+“You don’t like him, Doctor,” Isobel said quietly.
+
+“I have not said so, my dear--far from it. I think I said a good deal
+for him.”
+
+“Yes, but you don’t like him, Doctor. Why is that?”
+
+“I suppose because he is not my sort of man,” the Doctor said. “I have
+not seen him since his regiment and ours were at Delhi together, and we
+did not see much of each other then. Our tastes did not lie in the same
+direction.”
+
+“Well, I know what your tastes are, Doctor; what are his?”
+
+“I will leave you to find out, my dear. He is all I told you--a very
+handsome man, with, as is perhaps natural, a very good opinion of
+himself, and he distinguished himself more than once in the Punjaub
+by acts of personal gallantry. I have no doubt he thinks it an awful
+nuisance coming to a quiet little station like this, and he will
+probably try to while away his time by making himself very agreeable to
+you. But I don’t think you need quite believe all that he says.”
+
+“I have long ago got over the weakness of believing people’s flattery,
+Doctor. However, now you have forewarned me I am forearmed.”
+
+The Doctor hesitated, and then said gravely, “It is not my habit to
+speak ill of people, my dear. You do me the justice to believe that?”
+
+“I am sure it is not, Doctor.”
+
+“Well, child, in a station like this you must see a good deal of this
+man. He is a man who has won many hearts, and thrown them away. Don’t
+let him win yours. He is not a good man; he has been mixed up in several
+grave scandals; he has been the ruin of more than one young man at cards
+and billiards; he is in all respects a dangerous man. Anatomically I
+suppose he has a heart, morally he has not a vestige of one. Whatever
+you do, child, don’t let him make you like him.”
+
+“I don’t think there is much fear of that, Doctor, after what you have
+said,” she replied, with a quiet smile; “and I am obliged to you indeed
+for warning me.”
+
+“I know I am an old fool for meddling, but you know, my dear, I feel
+a sort of personal relationship to you, after your having been in my
+charge for six months. I don’t know a single man in all India whom I
+would not rather see you fall in love with than with Captain Forster.”
+
+“I thought uncle did not seem particularly pleased: when he came in to
+tiffin, and said there was a new arrival.”
+
+“I should think not,” the Doctor said; “the man in notoriously a
+dangerous fellow; and yet, as he has never actually outstepped what are
+considered the bounds which constitute an officer and a gentleman, he
+has retained his commission, but it has been a pretty close shave once
+or twice. Your uncle must know all about him, everyone does; but I don’t
+suppose the Major will open his mouth to you on the subject--he is one
+of those chivalrous sort of men who never thinks evil of anyone unless
+he is absolutely obliged to; but in a case like this I think he is
+wrong. At any rate, I have done what I consider to be my duty in the
+matter. Now I leave it in your hands. I am glad to see that you are
+looking quite yourself again, and have got over your fainting fit of
+the other night. I quite expected to be sent for professionally the next
+morning.”
+
+“Oh, yes, I have quite got over it, Doctor; I can’t make out how I was
+so silly as to faint. I never did such a thing before, but it was so
+strange and mysterious that I felt quite bewildered, and the picture
+quite frightened me, but I don’t know why. This is the first chance I
+have had since of speaking to you alone. What do you think of it, and
+why should you be dressed up as a native? and why should?” She stopped
+with a heightened color on her cheeks.
+
+“You and Bathurst be dressed up, too? So you noticed your own likeness;
+nobody else but Bathurst and myself recognized the two figures that came
+out of the wood.”
+
+“Oh, you saw it too, Doctor. I thought I might have been mistaken, for,
+besides being stained, the face was all obscured somehow. Neither uncle,
+nor Mrs. Hunter, nor the girls, nor anyone else I have spoken to seem to
+have had an idea it was me, though they all recognized you.. What could
+it mean?”
+
+“I. have not the slightest idea in the world,” the Doctor said; “very
+likely it meant nothing. I certainly should not think any more about it.
+These jugglers’ tricks are curious and unaccountable; but it is no use
+our worrying ourselves about them. Maybe we are all going to get up
+private theatricals some day, and perform an Indian drama. I have never
+taken any part in tomfooleries of that sort so far, but there is no
+saying what I may come to.”
+
+“Are you going to dine here, Doctor?”
+
+“No, my dear; the Major asked me to come in, but I declined. I told him
+frankly that I did not like Forster, and that the less I saw of him the
+better I should be pleased.”
+
+The other guests turned out to be Captain and Mrs. Doolan and Mr.
+Congreave, one of the civilians at the station. The Doolans arrived
+first.
+
+“You have not seen Captain Forster yet, Isobel,” Mrs. Doolan said, as
+they sat down for a chat together. “I met him at Delhi soon after I came
+out. He is quite my beau ideal of a soldier in appearance, but I don’t
+think he is nice, Isobel. I have heard all sorts of stories about him.”
+
+“Is that meant as a warning for me, Mrs. Doolan?” Isobel asked, smiling.
+
+“Well, yes, I think it is, if you don’t mind my giving you one. There
+are some men one can flirt with as much as one likes, and there are some
+men one can’t; he is one of that sort. Privately, my dear, I don’t mind
+telling you that at one time I did flirt with him--I had been accustomed
+to flirt in Ireland; we all flirt there, and mean nothing by it; but I
+had to give it up very suddenly. It wouldn’t do, my dear, at all; his
+ideas of flirtation differed utterly from mine. I found I was playing
+with fire, and was fortunate in getting off without singeing my wings,
+which is more than a good many others would have done.”
+
+“He must be a horrid sort of man,” Isobel said indignantly.
+
+Mrs. Doolan laughed. “I don’t think you will find him so; certainly
+that is not the general opinion of women. However, you will see him for
+yourself in a very few minutes.”
+
+Isobel looked up with some curiosity when Captain Forster was announced,
+and at once admitted to herself that the Doctor’s report as to his
+personal appearance was fully justified. He stood over six feet high,
+with a powerful frame, and an easy careless bearing; his hair was cut
+rather close, he wore a long tawny mustache, his eyes were dark, his
+teeth very white and perfect. A momentary look of surprise came across
+his face as his eyes fell on Isobel.
+
+“I had hardly expected,” he said, as the Major introduced him to her,
+“to find no less than three unmarried ladies at Deennugghur. I had the
+pleasure of being introduced to the Miss Hunters this afternoon. How do
+you do, Mrs. Doolan? I think it is four years since I had the pleasure
+of knowing you in Delhi.”
+
+“I believe that is the number, Captain Forster.”
+
+“It seems a very long time to me,” he said.
+
+“I thought you would say that,” she laughed. “It was quite the proper
+thing to say, Captain Forster; but I have no doubt it does seem longer
+to you than it does to me as you have been home since.”
+
+“We are all here,” the Major broke in. “Captain Forster, will you take
+my niece in?”
+
+“I suppose you find this very dull after Cawnpore, Miss Hannay?” Captain
+Forster asked.
+
+“Indeed I do not,” Isobel said. “I like it better here; everything is
+sociable and pleasant, while at Cawnpore there was much more formality.
+Of course, there were lots of dinner parties, but I don’t care for large
+dinner parties at all; it is so hot, and they last such a time. I think
+six is quite large enough. Then there is a general talk, and everyone
+can join in just as much as they like, while at a large dinner you
+have to rely entirely upon one person, and I think it is very hard work
+having to talk for an hour and a half to a stranger of whom you know
+nothing. Don’t you agree with me?”
+
+“Entirely, Miss Hannay; I am a pretty good hand at talking, but at times
+I have found it very hard work, I can assure you, especially when
+you take down a stranger to the station, so that you have no mutual
+acquaintance to pull to pieces.”
+
+The dinner was bright and pleasant, and when the evening was over Isobel
+said to her uncle, “I think Captain Forster is very amusing, uncle.”
+
+“Yes,” the Major agreed, “he is a good talker, a regular society man; he
+is no great favorite of mine; I think he will be a little too much for
+us in a small station like this.”
+
+“How do you mean too much, uncle?”
+
+The Major hesitated.
+
+“Well, he won’t have much to do with his troop of horse, and time will
+hang heavy on his hands.”
+
+“Well, there is shooting, uncle.”
+
+“Yes, there is shooting, but I don’t think that is much in his line.
+Tiffins and calls, and society generally occupy most of his time, I
+fancy, and I think he is fonder of billiards and cards than is good for
+him or others. Of course, being here by himself, as he is, we must do
+our best to be civil to him, and that sort of thing, but if we were
+at Cawnpore he is a man I should not care about being intimate in the
+house.”
+
+“I understand, uncle; but certainly he is pleasant.”
+
+“Oh, yes, he is very pleasant,” the Major said dryly, in a tone that
+seemed to express that Forster’s power of making himself pleasant was by
+no means a recommendation in his eyes.
+
+But Captain Forster had apparently no idea whatever that his society
+could be anything but welcome, and called the next day after luncheon.
+
+“I have been leaving my pasteboard at all the residents,” he said; “not
+a very large circle. Of course, I knew Mrs. Rintoul at Delhi, as well
+as Mrs. Doolan. I did not know any of the others. They seem pleasant
+people.”
+
+“They are very pleasant,” Isobel said.
+
+“I left one for a man named Bathurst. He was out. Is that the Bathurst,
+Major Hannay, who was in a line regiment--I forget its number--and left
+very suddenly in the middle of the fighting in the Punjaub?”
+
+“Yes; I believe Bathurst was in the army about that time,” the Major
+said; “but I don’t know anything about the circumstances of his
+leaving.”
+
+Had Captain Forster known the Major better he would have been aware that
+what he meant to say was that he did not wish to know, but he did not
+detect the inflection of his voice, and went on--“They say he showed
+the white feather. If it is the same man, I was at school with him, and
+unless he has improved since then, I am sure I have no wish to renew his
+acquaintance.”
+
+“I like him very much,” the Major said shortly; “he is great friends
+with Dr. Wade, who has the very highest opinion of him, and I believe he
+is generally considered to be one of the most rising young officers of
+his grade.”
+
+“Oh, I have nothing to say against him,” Captain Forster said; “but he
+was a poor creature at school, and I do not think that there was any
+love lost between us. Did you know him before you came here?”
+
+“I only met him at the last races in Cawnpore,” the Major said; “he was
+stopping with the Doctor.”
+
+“Quite a character, Wade.”
+
+Isobel’s tongue was untied now.
+
+“I think he is one of the kindest and best gentlemen I ever met,” the
+girl said hotly; “he took care of me coming out here, and no one could
+have been kinder than he was.”
+
+“I have no doubt he is all that,” Captain Forster said gently; “still he
+is a character, Miss Hannay, taking the term character to mean a person
+who differs widely from other people. I believe he is very skillful in
+his profession, but I take it he is a sort of Abernethy, and tells the
+most startling truths to his patients.”
+
+“That I can quite imagine,” Isobel said; “the Doctor hates humbug of
+all sorts, and I don’t think I should like to call him in myself for an
+imaginary ailment.”
+
+“I rather put my foot in it there,” Captain Forster said to himself, as
+he sauntered back to his tent. “The Major didn’t like my saying anything
+against Bathurst, and the girl did not like my remark about the Doctor.
+I wonder whether she objected also to what I said about that fellow
+Bathurst--a sneaking little hound he was, and there is no doubt about
+his showing the white feather in the Punjaub. However, I don’t think
+that young lady is of the sort to care about a coward, and if she asks
+any questions, as I dare say she will, after what I have said, she will
+find that the story is a true one. What a pretty little thing she is!
+I did not see a prettier face all the time I was at home. What with her
+and Mrs. Doolan, time is not likely to hang so heavily here as I had
+expected.”
+
+The Major, afraid that Isobel might ask him some questions about this
+story of Bathurst leaving the army, went off hastily as soon as Captain
+Forster had left. Isobel sat impatiently tapping the floor with her
+foot, awaiting the Doctor, who usually came for half an hour’s chat in
+the afternoon.
+
+“Well, child, how did your dinner go off yesterday, and what did you
+think of your new visitor? I saw him come away from here half an hour
+ago. I suppose he has been calling.”
+
+“I don’t like him at all,” Isobel said decidedly.
+
+“No? Well, then, you are an exception to the general rule.”
+
+“I thought him pleasant enough last night,” Isobel said frankly. “He has
+a deferential sort of way about him when he speaks to one that one can
+hardly help liking. But he made me angry today. In the first place,
+Doctor, he said you were a character.”
+
+The Doctor chuckled. “Well, that is true enough, my dear. There was no
+harm in that.”
+
+“And then he said”--and she broke off--“he said what I feel sure cannot
+be true. He said that Mr. Bathurst left the army because he showed the
+white feather. It is not true, is it? I am sure it can’t be true.”
+
+The Doctor did not reply immediately.
+
+“It is an old story,” he said presently, “and ought not to have been
+brought up again. I don’t suppose Forster or anyone else knows the
+rights of the case. When a man leaves his regiment and retires when it
+is upon active service, there are sure to be spiteful stories getting
+about, often without the slightest foundation. But even if it had been
+true, it would hardly be to Bathurst’s disadvantage now he is no longer
+in the army, and courage is not a vital necessity on the part of a
+civilian.”
+
+“You can’t mean that, Doctor; surely every man ought to be brave. Could
+anyone possibly respect a man who is a coward? I don’t believe it,
+Doctor, for a moment.”
+
+“Courage, my dear, is not a universal endowment--it is a physical as
+much as a moral virtue. Some people are physically brave and
+morally cowards; others are exactly the reverse. Some people are
+constitutionally cowards all round, while in others cowardice shows
+itself only partially. I have known a man who is as brave as a lion in
+battle, but is terrified by a rat. I have known a man brave in other
+respects lose his nerve altogether in a thunderstorm. In neither of
+these cases was it the man’s own fault; it was constitutional, and by no
+effort could he conquer it. I consider Bathurst to be an exceptionally
+noble character. I am sure that he is capable of acts of great bravery
+in some directions, but it is possible that he is, like the man I have
+spoken of, constitutionally weak in others.”
+
+“But the great thing is to be brave in battle, Doctor! You would not
+call a man a coward simply because he was afraid of a rat, but you would
+call a man a coward who was afraid in battle. To be a coward there seems
+to me to be a coward all round. I have always thought the one virtue
+in man I really envied was bravery, and that a coward was the most
+despicable creature living. It might not be his actual fault, but one
+can’t help that. It is not anyone’s fault if he is fearfully ugly or
+born an idiot, for example. But cowardice seems somehow different. Not
+to be brave when he is strong seems to put a man below the level of a
+woman. I feel sure, Doctor, there must be some mistake, and that this
+story cannot be true. I have seen a good deal of Mr. Bathurst since we
+have been here, and you have always spoken so well of him, he is the
+last man I should have thought would be--would be like that.”
+
+“I know the circumstances of the case, child. You can trust me when
+I say that there is nothing in Bathurst’s conduct that diminishes my
+respect for him in the slightest degree, and that in some respects he is
+as brave a man as any I know.”
+
+“Yes, Doctor, all that may be; but you do not answer my question. Did
+Mr. Bathurst leave the army because he showed cowardice? If he did, and
+you know it, why did you invite him here? why did you always praise
+him? why did you not say, ‘In other respects this man may be good and
+estimable, but he is that most despicable thing, a coward’?”
+
+There was such a passion of pain in her voice and face that the Doctor
+only said quietly, “I did not know it, my dear, or I should have told
+you at first that in this one point he was wanting. It is, I consider,
+the duty of those who know things to speak out. But he is certainly not
+what you say.”
+
+Isobel tossed her head impatiently. “We need not discuss it, Doctor. It
+is nothing to me whether Mr. Bathurst is brave or not, only it is not
+quite pleasant to learn that you have been getting on friendly terms
+with a man who--”
+
+“Don’t say any more,” the Doctor broke in. “You might at least remember
+he is a friend of mine. There is no occasion for us to quarrel, my dear,
+and to prevent the possibility of such a thing I will be off at once.”
+
+After he had left Isobel sat down to think over what had been said. He
+had not directly answered her questions, but he had not denied that the
+rumor that Bathurst had retired from the army because he was wanting in
+courage was well founded. Everything he had said, in fact, was an excuse
+rather than a denial. The Doctor was as stanch a friend as he was bitter
+an opponent. Could he have denied it he would have done so strongly and
+indignantly.
+
+It was clear that, much as he liked Bathurst, he believed him wanting in
+physical courage. He had said, indeed, that he believed he was brave in
+some respects, and had asserted that he knew of one exceptional act of
+courage that he had performed; but what was that if a man had had to
+leave the army because he was a coward? To Isobel it seemed that of all
+things it was most dreadful that a man should be wanting in courage.
+Tales of daring and bravery had always been her special delight, and,
+being full of life and spirit herself, it had not seemed even possible
+to her that a gentleman could be a coward, and that Bathurst could be so
+was to her well nigh incredible.
+
+It might, as the Doctor had urged, be in no way his fault, but this did
+not affect the fact. He might be more to be pitied than to be blamed;
+but pity of that kind, so far from being akin to love, was destructive
+of it.
+
+Unconsciously she had raised Bathurst on a lofty pinnacle. The Doctor
+had spoken very highly of him. She had admired the energy with which,
+instead of caring, as others did, for pleasure, he devoted himself to
+his work. Older men than himself listened to his opinions. His quiet and
+somewhat restrained manner was in contrast to the careless fun and good
+humor of most of those with whom she came in contact. It had seemed to
+her that he was a strong man, one who could be relied upon implicitly at
+all times, and she had come in the few weeks she had been at Deennugghur
+to rely upon his opinion, and to look forward to his visits, and even to
+acknowledge to herself that he approached her ideal of what a man should
+be more than anyone else she had met.
+
+And now this was all shattered at a blow. He was wanting in man’s first
+attribute. He had left the army, if not in disgrace, at least under
+a cloud and even his warm friend, the Doctor, could not deny that the
+accusation of cowardice was well founded. The pain of the discovery
+opened her eyes to the fact which she had not before, even remotely,
+admitted to herself, that she was beginning to love him, and the
+discovery was a bitter one.
+
+“I may thank Captain Forster for that, at least,” she said to herself,
+as she angrily wiped a tear from her cheek; “he has opened my eyes in
+time. What should I have felt if I had found too late that I had come
+to love a man who was a coward--who had left the army because he was
+afraid? I should have despised myself as much as I should despise him.
+Well, that is my first lesson. I shall not trust in appearances again.
+Why, I would rather marry a man like Captain Forster, even if everything
+they say about him is true, than a man who is a coward. At least he is
+brave, and has shown himself so.”
+
+The Doctor had gone away in a state of extreme irritation.
+
+“Confound the meddling scoundrel!” he said to himself, as he surprised
+the horse with a sharp cut of the whip. “Just when things were going
+on as I wished. I had quite set my mind on it, and though I am sure
+Bathurst would never have spoken to her till he had told her himself
+about that unfortunate failing of his, it would have been altogether
+different coming from his own lips just as he told it to me. Of course,
+my lips were sealed and I could not put the case in the right light. I
+would give three months’ pay for the satisfaction of horsewhipping that
+fellow Forster. Still, I can’t say he did it maliciously, for he could
+not have known Bathurst was intimate there, or that there was anything
+between them. The question is, am I to tell Bathurst that she has heard
+about it? I suppose I had better. Ah, here is the Major,” and he drew up
+his horse.
+
+“Anything new, Major? You look put out.”
+
+“Yes, there is very bad news, Doctor. A Sowar has just brought a letter
+to me from the Colonel saying that the General has got a telegram
+that the 19th Native Infantry at Berhampore have refused to use the
+cartridges served out to them, and that yesterday a Sepoy of the 34th
+at Barrackpore raised seditious cries in front of the lines, and when
+Baugh, the adjutant, and the sergeant major attempted to seize him he
+wounded them both, while the regiment stood by and refused to aid them.
+The 19th are to be disbanded, and no doubt the 34th will be, too.”
+
+“That is bad news indeed, Major, and looks as if this talk about general
+disaffection were true. Had there been trouble but at one station it
+might have been the effect of some local grievance, but happening at
+two places, it looks as if it were part of a general plot. Well, we must
+hope it will go no farther.”
+
+“It is very bad,” said the Major, “but at any rate we may hope we shall
+have no troubles here; the regiment has always behaved well, and I am
+sure they have no reason to complain of their treatment. If the Colonel
+has a fault, it is that of over leniency with the men.”
+
+“That is so,” the Doctor agreed; “but the fact is, Major, we know
+really very little about the Hindoo mind. We can say with some sort of
+certainty what Europeans will do under given circumstances, but though
+I know the natives, I think, pretty nearly as well as most men, I feel
+that I really know nothing about them. They appear mild and submissive,
+and have certainly proved faithful on a hundred battlefields, but we
+don’t know whether that is their real character. Their own history,
+before we stepped in and altered its current, shows them as faithless,
+bloodthirsty and cruel; whether they have changed their nature under our
+rule, or simply disguised it, Heaven only knows.”
+
+“At any rate,” the Major said, “they have always shown themselves
+attached to their English officers. There are numberless instances where
+they have displayed the utmost devotion for them, and although some
+scheming intriguers may have sown the seeds of discontent among them,
+and these lies about the cartridges may have excited their religious
+prejudices, and may even lead them to mutiny, I cannot believe for an
+instant that the Sepoys will lift their hands against their officers.”
+
+“I hope not,” the Doctor said gravely. “A tiger’s cub, when tamed, is
+one of the prettiest of playthings, but when it once tastes blood it is
+as savage a beast as its mother was before it. Of course, I hope for the
+best, but if the Sepoys once break loose I would not answer for anything
+they might do. They have been pretty well spoilt, Major, till they have
+come to believe that it is they who conquered India and not we.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+That evening, after dining alone, the Doctor went in to Bathurst’s.
+The latter had already heard the news, and they talked it over for some
+time. Then the Doctor said, “Have you seen Forster, Bathurst, since he
+arrived?”
+
+“No, I was out when he left his card. I was at school with him.. I heard
+when I was in England that he was out here in the native cavalry, but I
+have never run across him before, and I own I had no wish to do so. He
+was about two years older than I was, and was considered the cock of the
+school. He was one of my chief tormentors. I don’t know that he was
+a bully generally--fellows who are really plucky seldom are; but he
+disliked me heartily, and I hated him.
+
+“I had the habit of telling the truth when questioned, and he narrowly
+escaped expulsion owing to my refusing to tell a lie about his being
+quietly in bed when, in fact, he and two or three other fellows had been
+out at a public house. He never forgave me for it, for he himself would
+have told a lie without hesitation to screen himself, or, to do him
+justice, to screen anyone else; and the mere fact that I myself had
+been involved in the matter, having been sent out by one of the bigger
+fellows, and, therefore, having got myself a flogging by my admission,
+was no mitigation in his eyes of my offense of what he called sneaking.
+
+“So you may imagine I have no particular desire to meet him again.
+Unless he has greatly changed, he would do me a bad turn if he had the
+chance.”
+
+“I don’t think he has greatly changed,” the Doctor said. “That was
+really what I came in here for this evening rather than to talk about
+this Sepoy business. I am sorry to say, Bathurst, that when he was in
+at the Major’s today your name happened to be mentioned, and he said
+at once, ‘Is that the Bathurst who they say showed the white feather at
+Chillianwalla and left the army in consequence?’”
+
+Bathurst’s face grew pale and his fingers closed. He remained silent a
+minute, and then said, “It does not matter; she would have been sure to
+hear it sooner or later, and I should have told her myself if he had not
+done so; besides, if, as I am afraid, this Berhampore business is the
+beginning of trouble, and of such trouble as we have never had since we
+set foot in India, it is likely that everyone will know what she knows
+now. Has she spoken to you about it? I suppose she has, or you would not
+have known that he mentioned it.”
+
+“Yes, she was most indignant about it, and did not believe it.”
+
+“And what did you say, Doctor?” he asked indifferently.
+
+“Well, I was sorry I could not tell her exactly what you told me. It
+would have been better if I could have done so. I simply said there were
+many sorts of courage, and that I was sure that you possessed many sorts
+in a very high degree, but I could not, of course, deny; although I did
+not admit, the truth of the report he had mentioned.”
+
+“I don’t think it makes much difference one way or the other,” Bathurst
+said wearily. “I have known all along that Isobel Hannay would not marry
+a coward, only I have gone on living in a fool’s paradise. However, it
+is over now--the sooner it is all over the better.”
+
+“My dear fellow,” the Doctor said earnestly, “don’t take this thing too
+much to heart. I don’t wish to try and persuade you that it is not a
+grave misfortune, but even suppose this trouble takes the very worst
+form possible, I do not think you will come so very badly out of it as
+you anticipate. Even assuming that you are unable to do your part in
+absolute fighting, there may be other opportunities, and most likely
+will, in which you may be able to show that although unable to control
+your nerves in the din of battle, you possess in other respects coolness
+and courage. That feat of yours of attacking the tiger with the dog whip
+shows conclusively that under many circumstances you are capable of most
+daring deeds.”
+
+Bathurst sat looking down for some minutes. “God grant that it may
+be so,” he said at last; “but it is no use talking about it any more,
+Doctor. I suppose Major Hannay will keep a sharp lookout over the men?”
+
+“Yes; there was a meeting of the officers this afternoon. It was agreed
+to make no outward change, and to give the troops no cause whatever to
+believe that they are suspected. They all feel confident of the goodwill
+of the men; at the same time they will watch them closely, and if the
+news comes of further trouble, they will prepare the courthouse as a
+place of refuge.”
+
+“That is a very good plan; but of course everything depends upon
+whether, if the troops do rise in mutiny, the people of Oude should join
+them. They are a fighting race, and if they should throw in their lot
+against us the position would be a desperate one.”
+
+“Well, there is no doubt,” the Doctor said, “that the Rajah of Bithoor
+would be with us; that will make Cawnpore safe, and will largely
+influence all the great Zemindars, though there is no doubt that a
+good many of them have been sulky ever since the disarmament order was
+issued. I believe there are few of them who have not got cannon hidden
+away or buried, and as for the people, the number of arms given up was
+as nothing to what we know they possessed. In other parts of India I
+believe the bulk of the people will be with us; but here in Oude, our
+last annexation, I fear that they will side against us, unless all the
+great landowners range themselves on our side.”
+
+“As far as I can see,” Bathurst said, “the people are contented with the
+change. I don’t say what I may call the professional fighting class,
+the crowd of retainers kept by the great landowners, who were constantly
+fighting against each other. Annexation has put a stop to all that, and
+the towns are crowded with these fighting men, who hate us bitterly; but
+the peasants, the tillers of the soil, have benefited greatly. They
+are no longer exposed to raids by their powerful neighbors, and
+can cultivate their fields in peace and quiet. Unfortunately their
+friendship, such as it is, will not weigh in the slightest degree in
+the event of a struggle. At any rate, I am sure they are not behind the
+scenes, and know nothing whatever of any coming trouble. Going as I
+do among them, and talking to them as one of themselves, I should have
+noticed it had there been any change in them; and of late naturally I
+have paid special notice to their manner. Well, if it is to come I hope
+it will come soon, for anything is better than suspense.”
+
+Two days later Major Hannay read out to the men on parade an official
+document, assuring them that there was no truth whatever in the
+statements that had been made that the cartridges served out to them had
+been greased with pigs’ fat. They were precisely the same as those that
+they had used for years, and the men were warned against listening to
+seditious persons who might try to poison their minds and shake their
+loyalty to the Government. He then told them that he was sorry to say
+that at one or two stations the men had been foolish enough to listen
+to disloyal counsels, and that in consequence the regiments had been
+disbanded and the men had forfeited all the advantages in the way of pay
+and pension they had earned by many years of good conduct. He said that
+he had no fear whatever of any such trouble arising with them, as they
+knew that they had been well treated, that any legitimate complaint
+they might make had always been attended to, and that their officers had
+their welfare thoroughly at heart.
+
+When he had finished, the senior native officer stepped forward, and in
+the name of the detachment assured the Major that the men were perfectly
+contented, and would in all cases follow their officers, even if they
+ordered them to march against their countrymen. At the conclusion of his
+speech he called upon the troops to give three cheers for the Major and
+officers, and this was responded to with a show of great enthusiasm.
+
+This demonstration was deemed very satisfactory, and the uneasiness
+among the residents abated considerably, while the Major and his
+officers felt convinced that, whatever happened at other stations, there
+would at least be no trouble at Deennugghur.
+
+“Well, even you are satisfied, Doctor, I suppose?” the Major said, as
+a party of them who had been dining with Dr. Wade were smoking in the
+veranda.
+
+“I was hopeful before, Major, and I am hopeful now; but I can’t say that
+today’s parade has influenced me in the slightest. Whatever virtues
+the Hindoo may have, he has certainly that of knowing how to wait. I
+believe, from what took place, that they have no intention of breaking
+out at present; whether they are waiting to see what is done at other
+stations, or until they receive a signal, is more than I can say; but
+their assurances do not weigh with me to the slightest extent. Their
+history is full of cases of perfidious massacre. I should say, ‘Trust
+them as long as you can, but don’t relax your watch.’”
+
+“You are a confirmed croaker,” Captain Rintoul said.
+
+“I do not think so, Rintoul. I know the men I am talking about, and I
+know the Hindoos generally. They are mere children, and can be molded
+like clay. As long as we had the molding, all went well; but if
+they fall into the hands of designing men they can be led in another
+direction just as easily as we have led them in ours. I own that I don’t
+see who can be sufficiently interested in the matter to conceive and
+carry out a great conspiracy of this kind. The King of Oude is a captive
+in our hands, the King of Delhi is too old to play such a part. Scindia
+and Holkar may possibly long for the powers their fathers possessed,
+but they are not likely to act together, and may be regarded as rivals
+rather than friends, and yet if it is not one of these who has been
+brewing this storm. I own I don’t see who can be at the bottom of it,
+unless it has really originated from some ambitious spirits among
+the Sepoys, who look in the event of success to being masters of the
+destinies of India. It is a pity we did not get a few more views from
+that juggler; we might have known a little more of it then.”
+
+“Don’t talk about him, Doctor,” Wilson said; “it gives me the cold
+shivers to think of that fellow and what he did; I have hardly slept
+since then. It was the most creepy thing I ever saw. Richards and I have
+talked it over every evening we have been alone together, and we can’t
+make head or tail of the affair. Richards thinks it wasn’t the girl at
+all who went up on that pole, but a sort of balloon in her shape. But
+then, as I say, there was the girl standing among us before she took her
+place on the pole. We saw her sit down and settle herself on the cushion
+so that she was balanced right. So it could not have been a balloon
+then, and if it were a balloon afterwards, when did she change? At any
+rate the light below was sufficient to see well until she was forty or
+fifty feet up, and after that she shone out, and we never lost sight of
+her until she was ever so high. I can understand the pictures, because
+there might have been a magic lantern somewhere, but that girl trick,
+and the basket trick, and that great snake are altogether beyond me.”
+
+“So I should imagine, Wilson,” the Doctor said dryly; “and if I were you
+I would not bother my head about it.. Nobody has succeeded in finding
+out any of them yet, and all the wondering in the world is not likely to
+get you any nearer to it.”
+
+“That is what I feel, Doctor, but it is very riling to see things that
+you can’t account for anyhow. I wish he had sent up Richards on the pole
+instead of the girl. I would not have minded going up myself if he had
+asked me, though I expect I should have jumped off before it got up very
+far, even at the risk of breaking my neck.”
+
+“I should not mind risking that,” the Doctor said, “though I doubt
+whether I should have known any more about it when I came down; but
+these jugglers always bring a girl or a boy with them instead of calling
+somebody out from the audience, as they do at home. Well, if things are
+quiet we will organize another hunt, Wilson. I have heard of a tiger
+fifteen miles away from where we killed our last, and you and Richards
+shall go with me if you like.”
+
+“I should like it of all things, Doctor, provided it comes off by day.
+I don’t think I care about sitting through another night on a tree, and
+then not getting anything like a fair shot at the beast after all.”
+
+“We will go by day,” the Doctor said. “Bathurst has promised to get some
+elephants from one of the Zemindars; we will have a regular party this
+time. I have half promised Miss Hannay she shall have a seat in a howdah
+with me if the Major will give her leave, and in that case we will send
+out tents and make a regular party of it. What do you say, Major?”
+
+“I am perfectly willing, Doctor, and have certainly no objection to
+trusting Isobel to your care. I know you are not likely to miss.”
+
+“No, I am not likely to miss, certainly; and besides, there will be
+Wilson and Richards to give him the coup de grace if I don’t finish
+him.”
+
+There was a general laugh, for the two subalterns had been chaffed a
+good deal at both missing the tiger on the previous occasion.
+
+“Well, when shall it be, Major?”
+
+“Not just at present, at any rate,” the Major said. “We must see how
+things are going on. I certainly should not think of going outside the
+station now, nor could I give leave to any officer to do so; but if
+things settle down, and we hear no more of this cartridge business for
+the next ten days or a fortnight, we will see about it.”
+
+But although no news of any outbreak similar to that at Barrackpore
+was received for some days, the report that came showed a widespread
+restlessness. At various stations, all over India, fires, believed to be
+the work of incendiaries, took place, and there was little abatement of
+the uneasiness. It become known, too, that a native officer had before
+the rising of Berhampore given warning of the mutiny, and had stated
+that there was a widespread plot throughout the native regiments to
+rise, kill their officers, and then march to Delhi, where they were all
+to gather.
+
+The story was generally disbelieved, although the actual rising had
+shown that, to some extent, the report was well founded; still men could
+not bring themselves to believe that the troops among whom they had
+lived so long, and who had fought so well for us, could meditate such
+gross treachery, without having, as far as could be seen, any real cause
+for complaint.
+
+The conduct of the troops at Deennugghur was excellent, and the Colonel
+wrote that at Cawnpore there were no signs whatever of disaffection, and
+that the Rajah of Bithoor had offered to come down at the head of his
+own troops should there be any symptoms of mutiny among the Sepoys.
+Altogether things looked better, and a feeling of confidence that there
+would be no serious trouble spread through the station.
+
+The weather had set in very hot, and there was no stirring out now for
+the ladies between eleven o’clock and five or six in the afternoon.
+Isobel, however, generally went in for a chat, the first thing after
+early breakfast, with Mrs. Doolan, whose children were fractious with
+prickly heat.
+
+“I only wish we had some big, high mountain, my dear, somewhere within
+reach, where we could establish the children through the summer and run
+away ourselves occasionally to look after them. We are very badly off
+here in Oude for that. You are looking very pale yourself the last few
+days.”
+
+“I suppose I feel it a little,” Isobel said, “and of course this anxiety
+everyone has been feeling worries one. Everyone seems to agree that
+there is no fear of trouble with the Sepoys here; still, as nothing else
+is talked about, one cannot help feeling nervous about it. However, as
+things seem settling down now, I hope we shall soon get something else
+to talk about.”
+
+“I have not seen Mr. Bathurst lately,” Mrs. Doolan said presently.
+
+“Nor have we,” Isobel said quietly; “it is quite ten days since we saw
+him last.”
+
+“I suppose he is falling back into his hermit ways,” Mrs. Doolan said
+carelessly, shooting a keen glance at Isobel, who was leaning over one
+of the children.
+
+“He quite emerged from his shell for a bit. Mrs. Hunter was saying she
+never saw such a change in a man, but I suppose he has got tired of it.
+Captain Forster arrived just in time to fill up the gap. How do you like
+him, Isobel?”
+
+“He is amusing,” the girl said quietly; “I have never seen anyone quite
+like him before; he talks in an easy, pleasant sort of way, and tells
+most amusing stories. Then, when he sits down by one he has the knack of
+dropping his voice and talking in a confidential sort of way, even when
+it is only about the weather. I am always asking myself how much of it
+is real, and what there is under the surface.”
+
+Mrs. Doolan nodded approval.
+
+“I don’t think there is much under the surface, dear, and what there is
+is just as well left alone; but there is no doubt he can be delightful
+when he chooses, and very few women would not feel flattered by the
+attentions of a man who is said to be the handsomest officer in the
+Indian army, and who has besides distinguished himself several times as
+a particularly dashing officer.”
+
+“I don’t think handsomeness goes for much in a man,” Isobel said
+shortly.
+
+Mrs. Doolan laughed.
+
+“Why should it not go for as much as prettiness in a woman? It is no use
+being cynical, Isobel; it is part of our nature to admire pretty things,
+and as far as I can see an exceptionally handsome man is as legitimate
+an object of admiration as a lovely woman.”
+
+“Yes, to admire, Mrs. Doolan, but not to like.”
+
+“Well, my dear, I don’t want to be hurrying you away, but I think you
+had better get back before the sun gets any higher. You may say you
+don’t feel the heat much, but you are looking pale and fagged, and the
+less you are out in the sun the better.”
+
+Isobel had indeed been having a hard time during those ten days. At
+first she had thought of little but what she should do when Bathurst
+called. It seemed impossible that she could be exactly the same with him
+as she had been before, that was quite out of the question, and yet how
+was she to be different?
+
+Ten days had passed without his coming. This was so unusual that an
+idea came into her mind which terrified her, and the first time when the
+Doctor came in and found her alone she said, “Of course, Dr. Wade, you
+have not mentioned to Mr. Bathurst the conversation we had, but it is
+curious his not having been here since.”
+
+“Certainly I mentioned it,” the Doctor said calmly; “how could I do
+otherwise? It was evident to me that he would not be welcomed here as he
+was before, and I could not do otherwise than warn him of the change he
+might expect to find, and to give him the reason for it.”
+
+Isobel stood the picture of dismay. “I don’t think you had any right
+to do so, Doctor,” she said. “You have placed me in a most painful
+position.”
+
+“In not so painful a one as it would have been, my dear, if he had
+noticed the change himself, as he must have done, and asked for the
+cause of it.”
+
+Isobel stood twisting her fingers over each other before her nervously.
+
+“But what am I to do?” she asked.
+
+“I do not see that there is anything more for you to do,” the Doctor
+said. “Mr. Bathurst may not be perfect in all respects, but he is
+certainly too much of a gentleman to force his visits where they are
+not wanted. I do not say he will not come here at all, for not to do so
+after being here so much would create comment and talk in the station,
+which would be as painful to you as to him, but he certainly will not
+come here more often than is necessary to keep up appearances.”
+
+“I don’t think you ought to have told him,” Isobel repeated, much
+distressed.
+
+“I could not help it, my dear. You would force me to admit there was
+some truth in the story Captain Forster told you, and I was, therefore,
+obliged to acquaint him with the fact or he would have had just cause
+to reproach me. Besides, you spoke of despising a man who was not
+physically brave.”
+
+“You never told him that, Doctor; surely you never told him that?”
+
+“I only told what it was necessary he should know, my dear, namely, that
+you had heard the story, that you had questioned me, and that I, knowing
+the facts from his lips, admitted that there was some foundation for the
+story, while asserting that I was convinced that he was morally a brave
+man. He did not ask how you took the news, nor did I volunteer any
+information whatever on the subject, but he understood, I think,
+perfectly the light in which you would view a coward.”
+
+“But what am I to do when we meet, Doctor?” she asked piteously.
+
+“I should say that you will meet just as ordinary acquaintances do meet,
+Miss Hannay. People are civil to others they are thrown with, however
+much they may distrust them at heart. You may be sure that Mr. Bathurst
+will make no allusion whatever to the matter. I think I can answer for
+it that you will see no shade of difference in his manner. This has
+always been a heavy burden for him, as even the most careless observer
+may see in his manner. I do not say that this is not a large addition to
+it, but I dare say he will pull through; and now I must be off.”
+
+“You are very unkind, Doctor, and I never knew you unkind before.”
+
+“Unkind!” the Doctor repeated, with an air of surprise. “In what way?
+I love this young fellow. I had cherished hopes for him that he hardly
+perhaps ventured to cherish for himself. I quite agree with you that
+what has passed has annihilated those hopes. You despise a man who is
+a coward. I am not surprised at that. Bathurst is the last man in the
+world who would force himself upon a woman who despised him. I have done
+my best to save you from being obliged to make a personal declaration of
+your sentiments. I repudiate altogether the accusation as being unkind.
+I don’t blame you in the slightest. I think that your view is the one
+that a young woman of spirit would naturally take. I acquiesce in it
+entirely. I will go farther, I consider it a most fortunate occurrence
+for you both that you found it out in time.”
+
+Isobel’s cheeks had flushed and paled several times while he was
+speaking; then she pressed her lips tightly together, and as he finished
+she said, “I think, Doctor, it will be just as well not to discuss the
+matter further.”
+
+“I am quite of your opinion,” he said. “We will agree not to allude to
+it again. Goodby.”
+
+And then Isobel had retired to her room and cried passionately, while
+the Doctor had gone off chuckling to himself as if he were perfectly
+satisfied with the state of affairs.
+
+During the week that had since elapsed the Major had wondered and
+grumbled several times at Bathurst’s absence.
+
+“I expect,” he said one day, when a note of refusal had come from him,
+“that he doesn’t care about meeting Forster. You remember Forster said
+they had been at school together, and from the tone in which he spoke
+it is evident that they disliked each other there. No doubt he has heard
+from the Doctor that Forster is frequently in here,” and the Major spoke
+rather irritably, for it seemed to him that Isobel showed more pleasure
+in the Captain’s society than she should have done after what he had
+said to her about him; indeed, Isobel, especially when the Doctor was
+present, appeared by no means to object to Captain Forster’s attentions.
+
+Upon the evening, however, of the day when Isobel had spoken to Mrs.
+Doolan, Bathurst came in, rather late in the evening.
+
+“How are you, Bathurst?” the Major said cordially. “Why, you have become
+quite a stranger. We haven’t seen you for over a fortnight. Do you know
+Captain Forster?”
+
+“We were at school together formerly, I believe,” Bathurst said
+quietly. “We have not met since, and I fancy we are both changed beyond
+recognition.”
+
+Captain Forster looked with surprise at the strong, well knit figure. He
+had not before seen Bathurst, and had pictured him to himself as a weak,
+puny man.
+
+“I certainly should not have known Mr. Bathurst,” he said. “I have
+changed a great deal, no doubt, but he has certainly changed more.”
+
+There was no attempt on the part of either to shake hands. As they moved
+apart Isobel came into the room.
+
+A quick flash of color spread over her face when, upon entering, she saw
+Bathurst talking to her uncle. Then she advanced, shook hands with
+him as usual, and said, “It is quite a time since you were here, Mr.
+Bathurst. If everyone was as full of business as you are, we should get
+on badly.”
+
+Then she moved on without waiting for a reply and sat down, and was soon
+engaged in a lively conversation with. Captain Forster, whilst Bathurst,
+a few minutes later, pleading that as he had been in the saddle all day
+he must go and make up for lost time, took his leave.
+
+Captain Forster had noticed the flush on Isobel’s cheeks when she saw
+Bathurst, and had drawn his own conclusions.
+
+“There has been a flirtation between them,” he said to himself; “but I
+fancy I have put a spoke in his wheel. She gave him the cold shoulder
+unmistakably.”
+
+April passed, and as matters seemed to be quieting down, there being no
+fresh trouble at any of the stations, the Major told Dr. Wade that he
+really saw no reason why the projected tiger hunt should not take place.
+The Doctor at once took the matter in hand, and drove out the next
+morning to the village from which he had received news about the tiger,
+had a long talk with the shikaris of the place, took a general view of
+the country, settled the line in which the beat should take place,
+and arranged for a large body of beaters to be on the spot at the time
+agreed on.
+
+Bathurst undertook to obtain the elephants from two Zemindars in the
+neighborhood, who promised to furnish six, all of which were more or
+less accustomed to the sport; while the Major and Mr. Hunter, who had
+been a keen sportsman, although he had of late given up the pursuit of
+large game, arranged for a number of bullock carts for the transport of
+tents and stores.
+
+Bathurst himself declined to be one of the party, which was to consist
+of Mr. Hunter and his eldest daughter, the Major and Isobel, the Doctor,
+the two subalterns, and Captain Forster. Captain Doolan said frankly
+that he was no shot, and more likely to hit one of the party than the
+tiger. Captain Rintoul at first accepted, but his wife shed such floods
+of tears at the idea of his leaving her and going into danger, that for
+the sake of peace he agreed to remain at home.
+
+Wilson and Richards were greatly excited over the prospect, and talked
+of nothing else; they were burning to wipe out the disgrace of having
+missed on the previous occasion. Each of them interviewed the Doctor
+privately, and implored him to put them in a position where they were
+likely to have the first shot. Both used the same arguments, namely,
+that the Doctor had killed so many tigers that one more or less could
+make no difference to him, and if they missed, which they modestly
+admitted was possible, he could still bring the animal down.
+
+As the Doctor was always in a good temper when there was a prospect of
+sport, he promised each of them to do all that he could for them, at the
+same time pointing out that it was always quite a lottery which way the
+tiger might break out.
+
+Isobel was less excited than she would have thought possible over the
+prospect of taking part in a tiger hunt. She had many consultations
+to hold with Mrs. Hunter, the Doctor, and Rumzan as to the food to be
+taken, and the things that would be absolutely necessary for camping
+out; for, as it was possible that the first day’s beat would be
+unsuccessful, they were to be prepared for at least two days’ absence
+from home. Two tents were to be taken, one for the gentlemen, the other
+for Isobel and Mary Hunter. These, with bedding and camp furniture,
+cooking utensils and provisions, were to be sent off at daybreak, while
+the party were to start as soon as the heat of the day was over.
+
+“I wish Bathurst had been coming,” Major Hannay said, as, with Isobel by
+his side, he drove out of the cantonment. “He seems to have slipped away
+from us altogether; he has only been in once for the last three or four
+weeks. You haven’t had a tiff with him about anything, have you, Isobel?
+It seems strange his ceasing so suddenly to come after our seeing so
+much of him.”
+
+“No, uncle, I have not seen him except when you have. What put such an
+idea into your mind?”
+
+“I don’t know, my dear; young people do have tiffs sometimes about all
+sorts of trifles, though I should not have thought that Bathurst was
+the sort of man to do anything of that sort. I don’t think that he likes
+Forster, and does not care to meet him. I fancy that is at the bottom of
+it.”
+
+“Very likely,” Isobel said innocently, and changed the subject.
+
+It was dark when they reached the appointed spot, and indeed from the
+point where they left the road a native with a torch had run ahead to
+show them the way. The tents looked bright; two or three large fires
+were burning round them, and the lamps had already been lighted within.
+
+“These tents do look cozy,” Mary Hunter said, as she and Isobel entered
+the one prepared for them. “I do wish one always lived under canvas
+during the hot weather.”
+
+“They look cool,” Isobel said, “but I don’t suppose they are really as
+cool as the bungalows; but they do make them comfortable. Here is the
+bathroom all ready, and I am sure we want it after that dusty drive.
+Will you have one first, or shall I? We must make haste, for Rumzan said
+dinner would be ready in half an hour. Fortunately we shan’t be expected
+to do much in the way of dressing.”
+
+The dinner was a cheerful meal, and everyone was in high spirits.
+
+The tiger had killed a cow the day before, and the villagers were
+certain that he had retired to a deep nullah round which a careful watch
+had been kept all day. Probably he would steal out by night to make a
+meal from the carcass of the cow, but it had been arranged that he was
+to do this undisturbed, and that the hunt was to take place by daylight.
+
+“It is wonderful how the servants manage everything,” Isobel said. “The
+table is just as well arranged as it is at home. People would hardly
+believe in England, if they could see us sitting here, that we were only
+out on a two days’ picnic. They would be quite content there to rough
+it and take their meals sitting on the ground, or anyway they could get
+them. It really seems ridiculous having everything like this.”
+
+“There is nothing like making yourself comfortable,” the Doctor said;
+“and as the servants have an easy time of it generally, it does them
+good to bestir themselves now and then. The expense of one or two extra
+bullock carts is nothing, and it makes all the difference in comfort.”
+
+“How far is the nullah from here, Doctor?” Wilson, who could think of
+nothing else but the tiger, asked.
+
+“About two miles. It is just as well not to go any nearer. Not that he
+would be likely to pay us a visit, but he might take the alarm and shift
+his quarters. No, no more wine, Major; we shall want our blood cool in
+the morning. Now we will go out to look at the elephants and have a talk
+with the mahouts, and find out which of the animals can be most trusted
+to stand steady. It is astonishing what a dread most elephants have of
+tigers. I was on one once that I was assured would face anything, and
+the brute bolted and went through some trees, and I was swept off the
+pad and was half an hour before I opened my eyes. It was a mercy I had
+not every rib broken. Fortunately I was a lightweight, or I might have
+been killed. And I have seen the same sort of thing happen a dozen
+times, so we must choose a couple of steady ones, anyhow, for the
+ladies.”
+
+For the next hour they strolled about outside. The Doctor cross
+questioned the mahouts and told off the elephants for the party; then
+there was a talk with the native shikaris and arrangements made for the
+beat, and at an early hour all retired to rest. The morning was just
+breaking when they were called. Twenty minutes later they assembled to
+take a cup of coffee before starting. The elephants were arranged in
+front of the tents, and they were just about to mount when a horse was
+heard coming at a gallop.
+
+“Wait a moment,” the Major said; “it may be a message of some sort from
+the station.” A minute later Bathurst rode in and reined up his horse in
+front of the tent.
+
+“Why, Bathurst, what brings you here? Changed your mind at the last
+moment, and found you could get away? That’s right; you shall come on
+the pad with me.”
+
+“No, I have not come for that, Major; I have brought a dispatch that
+arrived at two o’clock this morning. Doolan opened it and came to me,
+and asked me to bring it on to you, as I knew the way and where your
+camp was to be pitched.”
+
+“Nothing serious, I hope, Bathurst,” the Major said, struck with the
+gravity with which Bathurst spoke. “It must be something important, or
+Doolan would never have routed you off like that.”
+
+“It is very serious, Major,” Bathurst said, in a low voice. “May I
+suggest you had better go into the tent to read it? Some of the servants
+understand English.”
+
+“Come in with me,” the Major said, and led the way into the tent, where
+the lamps were still burning on the breakfast table, although the light
+had broadened out over the sky outside. It was with grave anticipation
+of evil that the Major took the paper from its envelope, but his worst
+fears were more than verified by the contents.
+
+“My Dear Major: The General has just received a telegram with terrible
+news from Meerut. ‘Native troops mutinied, murdered officers, women, and
+children, opened jails and burned cantonments, and marched to Delhi.’ It
+is reported that there has been a general rising there and the massacre
+of all Europeans. Although this is not confirmed, the news is considered
+probable. We hear also that the native cavalry at Lucknow have mutinied.
+Lawrence telegraphs that he has suppressed it with the European troops
+there, and has disarmed the mutineers. I believe that our regiment
+will be faithful, but none can be trusted now. I should recommend your
+preparing some fortified house to which all Europeans in station can
+retreat in case of trouble. Now that they have taken to massacre as well
+as mutiny, God knows how it will all end.”
+
+“Good Heavens! who could have dreamt of this?” the Major groaned.
+“Massacred their officers, women, and children. All Europeans at Delhi
+supposed to have been massacred, and there must be hundreds of them. Can
+it be true?”
+
+“The telegram as to Meerut is clearly an official one,” Bathurst said.
+“Delhi is as yet but a rumor, but it is too probable that if these
+mutineers and jail birds, flushed with success, reached Delhi before the
+whites were warned, they would have their own way in the place, as, with
+the exception of a few artillerymen at the arsenal, there is not a white
+soldier in the place.”
+
+“But there were white troops at Meerut,” the Major said. “What could
+they have been doing? However, that is not the question now. We must,
+of course, return instantly. Ask the others to come in here, Bathurst.
+Don’t tell the girls what has taken place; it will be time enough for
+that afterwards. All that is necessary to say is that you have brought
+news of troubles at some stations unaffected before, and that I think it
+best to return at once.”
+
+The men were standing in a group, wondering what the news could be which
+was deemed of such importance that Bathurst should carry it out in the
+middle of the night.
+
+“The Major will be glad if you will all go in, gentlemen,” Bathurst
+said, as he joined them.
+
+“Are we to go in, Mr. Bathurst?” Miss Hunter asked.
+
+“No, I think not, Miss Hunter; the fact is there have been some troubles
+at two or three other places, and the Major is going to hold a sort
+of council of war as to whether the hunt had not better be given up. I
+rather fancy that they will decide to go back at once. News flies very
+fast in India. I think the Major would like that he and his officers
+should be back before it is whispered among the Sepoys that the
+discontent has not, as we hoped, everywhere ceased.”
+
+“It must be very serious,” Isobel said, “or uncle would never decide to
+go back, when all the preparations are made.”
+
+“It would never do, you see, Miss Hannay, for the Commandant and four of
+the officers to be away, if the Sepoys should take it into their heads
+to refuse to receive cartridges or anything of that sort.”
+
+“You can’t give us any particulars, then, Mr. Bathurst?”
+
+“The note was a very short one, and was partly made up of unconfirmed
+rumors. As I only saw it in my capacity of a messenger, I don’t think I
+am at liberty to say more than that.”
+
+“What a trouble the Sepoys are,” Mary Hunter said pettishly; “it is too
+bad our losing a tiger hunt when we may never have another chance to see
+one!”
+
+“That is a very minor trouble, Mary.”
+
+“I don’t think so,” the girl said; “just at present it seems to me to be
+very serious.”
+
+At this moment the Doctor put his head out of the tent.
+
+“Will you come in, Bathurst?”
+
+“We have settled, Bathurst,” the Major said, when he entered, “that we
+must, of course, go back at once. The Doctor, however, is of opinion
+that if, after all the preparations were made, we were to put the tiger
+hunt off altogether, it would set the natives talking, and the report
+would go through the country like wildfire that some great disaster had
+happened. We must go back at once, and Mr. Hunter, having a wife and
+daughter there, is anxious to get back, too; but the Doctor urges that
+he should go out and kill this tiger. As it is known that you have just
+arrived, he says that if you are willing to go with him, it will be
+thought that you had come here to join the hunt, and if that comes off,
+and the tiger is killed, it does not matter whether two or sixty of us
+went out.”
+
+“I shall be quite willing to do so,” said Bathurst, “and I really think
+that the Doctor’s advice is good. If, now that you have all arrived upon
+the ground, the preparations were canceled, there can be no doubt that
+the natives would come to the conclusion that something very serious had
+taken place, and it would be all over the place in no time.”
+
+“Thank you, Bathurst. Then we will consider that arranged. Now we will
+get the horses in as soon as possible, and be off at once.”
+
+Ten minutes later the buggies were brought round, and the whole party,
+with the exception of the Doctor and Bathurst, started for Deennugghur.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+“Let us be off at once,” Dr. Wade said to his companion; “we can talk as
+we go along. I have got two rifles with me; I can lend you one.”
+
+“I shall take no rifle,” Bathurst said decidedly, “or rather I will take
+one of the shikaris’ guns for the sake of appearance, and for use I will
+borrow one of their spears.”
+
+“Very well; I will do the shooting, then,” the Doctor agreed.
+
+The two men then took their places on the elephants most used to the
+work, and told the mahouts of the others to follow in case the elephants
+should be required for driving the tiger out of the thick jungle, and
+they then started side by side for the scene of action.
+
+“This is awful news, Bathurst. I could not have believed it possible
+that these fellows who have eaten our salt for years, fought our
+battles, and have seemed the most docile and obedient of soldiers,
+should have done this. That they should have been goaded into mutiny
+by lies about their religion being in danger I could have imagined well
+enough, but that they should go in for wholesale massacre, not only of
+their officers, but of women and children, seems well nigh incredible.
+You and I have always agreed that if they were once roused there was
+no saying what they would do, but I don’t think either of us dreamt of
+anything as bad as this.”
+
+“I don’t know,” Bathurst said quietly; “one has watched this cloud
+gathering, and felt that if it did break it would be something terrible.
+No one can foresee now what it will be. The news that Delhi is in the
+hands of the mutineers, and that these have massacred all Europeans, and
+so placed themselves beyond all hope of pardon, will fly though India
+like a flash of lightning, and there is no guessing how far the matter
+will spread. There is no use disguising it from ourselves, Doctor,
+before a week is over there may not be a white man left alive in
+India, save the garrisons of strong places like Agra, and perhaps the
+presidential towns, where there is always a strong European force.”
+
+“I can’t deny that it is possible, Bathurst. If this revolt spreads
+though the three Presidencies the work of conquering India will have to
+be begun again, and worse than that, for we should have opposed to us a
+vast army drilled and armed by ourselves, and led by the native officers
+we have trained. It seems stupefying that an empire won piecemeal, and
+after as hard fighting as the world has ever seen, should be lost in a
+week.”
+
+The Doctor spoke as if the question was a purely impersonal one.
+
+“Ugly, isn’t it?” he went on; “and to think I have been doctoring up
+these fellows for the last thirty years--saving their lives, sir, by
+wholesale. If I had known what had been coming I would have dosed them
+with arsenic with as little remorse as I should feel in shooting a
+tiger’s whelp. Well, there is one satisfaction, the Major has already
+done something towards turning the courthouse into a fortress, and I
+fancy a good many of the scoundrels will go down before they take it,
+that is, if they don’t fall on us unawares. I have been a noncombatant
+all my life, but if I can shoot a tiger on the spring I fancy I can hit
+a Sepoy. By Jove, Bathurst, that juggler’s picture you told me of is
+likely to come true after all!”
+
+“I wish to Heaven it was!” Bathurst said gloomily; “I could look without
+dread at whatever is coming as far as I am concerned, if I could believe
+it possible that I should be fighting as I saw myself there.”
+
+“Pooh, nonsense, lad!” the Doctor said. “Knowing what I know of you, I
+have no doubt that, though you may feel nervous at first, you will get
+over it in time.”
+
+Bathurst shook his head. “I know myself too well, Doctor, to indulge in
+any such hopes. Now you see we are going out tiger hunting. At present,
+now, as far as I am concerned, I should feel much less nervous if I knew
+I was going to enter the jungle on foot with only this spear, than I do
+at the thought that you are going to fire that rifle a few paces from
+me.”
+
+“You will scarcely notice it in the excitement,” the Doctor said. “In
+cold blood I admit you might feel it, but I don’t think you will when
+you see the tiger spring out from the jungle at us. But here we are.
+That is the nullah in which they say the tiger retires at night. I
+expect the beaters are lying all round in readiness, and as soon as we
+have taken up our station at its mouth they will begin.”
+
+A shikari came up as they approached the spot.
+
+“The tiger went out last night, sahib, and finished the cow; he came
+back before daylight, and the beaters are all in readiness to begin.”
+
+The elephants were soon in position at the mouth of the ravine, which
+was some thirty yards across. At about the same distance in front of
+them the jungle of high, coarse grass and thick bush began.
+
+“If you were going to shoot, Bathurst, we would take post one each side,
+but as you are not going to I will place myself nearly in the center,
+and if you are between me and the rocks the tiger is pretty certain to
+go on the other side, as it will seem the most open to him. Now we are
+ready,” he said to the shikari.
+
+The latter waved a white rag on the top of a long stick, and at the
+signal a tremendous hubbub of gongs and tom toms, mingled with the
+shouts of numbers of the men, arose. The Doctor looked across at
+his companion. His face was white and set, his muscles twitched
+convulsively; he was looking straight in front of him, his teeth set
+hard.
+
+“An interesting case,” the Doctor muttered to himself, “if it had been
+anyone else than Bathurst. I expect the tiger will be some little time
+before it is down. Bathurst,” he said, in a quiet voice. Three times
+he repeated the observation, each time raising his voice higher, before
+Bathurst heard him.
+
+“The sooner it comes the better,” Bathurst said, between his teeth. “I
+would rather face a hundred tigers than this infernal din.”
+
+A quarter of an hour passed, and the Doctor, rifle in hand, was watching
+the bushes in front when he saw a slight movement among the leaves on
+his right, the side on which Bathurst was stationed.
+
+“That’s him, Bathurst; he has headed back; he caught sight of either
+your elephant or mine; he will make a bolt in another minute now unless
+he turns back on the beaters.”
+
+A minute later there was a gleam of tawny yellow among the long grass,
+and quick as thought the Doctor fired. With a sharp snarl the tiger
+leaped out, and with two short bounds sprang onto the head of the
+elephant ridden by Bathurst. The mahout gave a cry of pain, for the
+talons of one of the forepaws were fixed in his leg. Bathurst leaned
+forward and thrust the spear he held deep into the animal’s neck. At
+the same moment the Doctor fired again, and the tiger, shot through the
+head, fell dead, while, with a start, Bathurst lost his balance and fell
+over the elephant’s head onto the body of the tiger.
+
+It was fortunate indeed for him that the ball had passed through the
+tiger’s skull from ear to ear, and that life was extinct before it
+touched the ground. Bathurst sprang to his feet, shaken and bewildered,
+but otherwise unhurt.
+
+“He is as dead as a door nail!” the Doctor shouted, “and lucky for you
+he was so; if he had had a kick left in him you would have been badly
+torn.”
+
+“I should never have fallen off,” Bathurst said angrily, “if you had not
+fired. I could have finished him with the spear.”
+
+“You might or you might not; I could not wait to think about that; the
+tiger had struck its claws into the mahout’s leg, and would have had him
+off the elephant in another moment. That is a first rate animal you were
+riding on, or he would have turned and bolted; if he had done so you and
+the mahout would have both been off to a certainty.”
+
+By this time the shouts of some natives, who had taken their posts in
+trees near at hand, told the beaters that the shots they had heard had
+been successful, and with shouts of satisfaction they came rushing
+down. The Doctor at once dispatched one of them to bring up his trap and
+Bathurst’s horse, and then examined the tiger.
+
+It was a very large one, and the skin was in good condition, which
+showed that he had not taken to man eating long. The Doctor bound up the
+wound on the mahout’s leg, and then superintended the skinning of the
+animal while waiting for the arrival of the trap.
+
+When it came up he said, “You might as well take a seat by my side,
+Bathurst; the syce will sit behind and lead your horse.”
+
+Having distributed money among the beaters, the Doctor took his place
+in his trap, the tiger skin was rolled up and placed under the seat,
+Bathurst mounted beside him, and they started.
+
+“There, you see, Doctor,” Bathurst, who had not opened his lips from the
+time he had remonstrated with the Doctor for firing, said; “you see it
+is of no use. I was not afraid of the tiger, for I knew that you were
+not likely to miss, and that in any case it could not reach me on the
+elephant. I can declare that I had not a shadow of fear of the beast,
+and yet, directly that row began, my nerves gave way altogether. It was
+hideous, and yet, the moment the tiger charged, I felt perfectly cool
+again, for the row ceased as you fired your first shot. I struck it full
+in the chest, and was about to thrust the spear right down, and should,
+I believe, have killed it, if you had not fired again and startled me so
+that I fell from the elephant.”
+
+“I saw that the shouting and noise unnerved you, Bathurst, but I saw too
+that you were perfectly cool and steady when you planted your spear
+into him. If it had not got hold of the mahout’s leg I should not have
+fired.”
+
+“Is there nothing to be done, Doctor? You know now what it is likely we
+shall have to face with the Sepoys and what it will be with me if they
+rise. Is there nothing you can do for me?”
+
+The Doctor shook his head. “I don’t believe in Dutch courage in any
+case, Bathurst; certainly not in yours. There is no saying what the
+effect of spirits might be. I should not recommend them, lad. Of course,
+I can understand your feelings, but I still believe that, even if you do
+badly to begin with, you will pull round in the end. I have no doubt you
+will get a chance to show that it is only nerve and not courage in which
+you are deficient.”
+
+Bathurst was silent, and scarce another word was spoken during the drive
+back to Deennugghur.
+
+The place had its accustomed appearance when they drove up. The Doctor,
+as he drew up before his bungalow, said, “Thank God, they have not begun
+yet! I was half afraid we might have found they had taken advantage of
+most of us being away, and have broken out before we got back.”
+
+“So was I,” Bathurst said. “I have been thinking of nothing else since
+we started.”
+
+“Well, I will go to the Major at once and see what arrangements have
+been made, and whether there is any further news.”
+
+“I shall go off on my rounds,” Bathurst said. “I had arranged yesterday
+to be at Nilpore this morning, and there will be time for me to get
+there now. It is only eleven o’clock yet. I shall go about my work as
+usual until matters come to a head.”
+
+The Doctor found that the Major was over at the tent which served as the
+orderly office, and at once followed him there.
+
+“Nothing fresh, Major?”
+
+“No; we found everything going on as usual. It has been decided to put
+the courthouse as far as we can in a state of defense. I shall have the
+spare ammunition quietly taken over there, with stores of provisions.
+The ladies have undertaken to sew up sacking and make gunny bags for
+holding earth, and, of course, we shall get a store of water there.
+Everything will be done quietly at present, and things will be sent in
+there after dark by such servants as we can thoroughly rely upon. At the
+first signs of trouble the residents will make straight for that point.
+Of course we must be guided by circumstances. If the trouble begins in
+the daytime--that is, if it does begin, for the native officers assure
+us that we can trust implicitly in the loyalty of the men--there will
+probably be time for everyone to gain the courthouse; if it is at night,
+and without warning, as it was at Meerut, I can only say, Doctor, may
+God help us all, for I fear that few, if any, of us would get there
+alive. Certainly not enough to make any efficient defense.”
+
+“I do not see that there is anything else to do, Major. I trust with
+you that the men will prove faithful; if not, it is a black lookout
+whichever way we take it.”
+
+“Did you kill the tiger, Doctor?”
+
+“Yes; at least Bathurst and I did it between us. I wounded him first. It
+then sprang upon Bathurst’s elephant, and he speared it, and I finished
+it with a shot through the head.”
+
+“Speared it!” the Major repeated; “why didn’t he shoot it. What was he
+doing with his spear?”
+
+“He was born, Major, with a constitutional horror of firearms, inherited
+from his mother. I will tell you about it some day. In fact, he cannot
+stand noise of any sort. It has been a source of great trouble to the
+young fellow, who in all other respects has more than a fair share of
+courage. However, we will talk about that when we have more time on our
+hands. There is no special duty you can give me at present?”
+
+“Yes, there is. You are in some respects the most disengaged man in
+the station, and can come and go without attracting any attention. I
+propose, therefore, that you shall take charge of the arrangement of
+matters in the courthouse. I think that it will be an advantage if you
+move from your tent in there at once. There is plenty of room for us
+all: No one can say at what time there may be trouble with the Sepoys,
+and it would be a great advantage to have someone in the courthouse
+who could take the lead if the women, with the servants and so on, come
+flocking in while we were still absent on the parade ground. Besides,
+with your rifle, you could drive any small party off who attempted to
+seize it by surprise. If you were there we would call it the hospital,
+which would be an excuse for sending in stores, bedding, and so on.
+
+“You might mention in the orderly room that it is getting so hot now
+that you think it would be as well to have a room or two fitted up under
+a roof, instead of having the sick in tents, in case there should be an
+outbreak of cholera or anything of that sort this year. I will say that
+I think the idea is a very good one, and that as the courthouse is
+very little used, you had better establish yourself there. The native
+officers who hear what we say will spread the news. I don’t say it will
+be believed, but at least it will serve as an explanation.”
+
+“Yes, I think that that will be a very good plan, Major. Two of the men
+who act as hospital orderlies I can certainly depend upon, and they will
+help to receive the things sent in from the bungalows, and will hold
+their tongues as to what is being done; I shall leave my tent standing,
+and use it occasionally as before, but will make the courthouse my
+headquarters. How are we off for arms?”
+
+“There are five cases of muskets and a considerable stock of ammunition
+in that small magazine in the lines; one of the first things will be to
+get them removed to the courthouse. We have already arranged to do that
+tonight; it will give us four or five muskets apiece.”
+
+“Good, Major; I will load them all myself and keep them locked up in
+a room upstairs facing the gateway, and should there be any trouble I
+fancy I could give a good account of any small body of men who might
+attempt to make an entrance. I am very well content with my position as
+Commandant of the Hospital, as we may call it; the house has not been
+much good to us hitherto, but I suppose when it was bought it was
+intended to make this a more important station; it is fortunate they did
+buy it now, for we can certainly turn it into a small fortress. Still,
+of course, I cannot disguise from myself that though we might get on
+successfully for a time against your Sepoys, there is no hope of holding
+it long if the whole country rises.”
+
+“I quite see that, Doctor,” the Major said gravely; “but I have really
+no fear of that. With the assistance of the Rajah of Bithoor, Cawnpore
+is safe. His example is almost certain to be followed by almost all the
+other great landowners. No; it is quite bad enough that we have to face
+a Sepoy mutiny; I cannot believe that we are likely to have a general
+rising on our hands. If we do--” and he stopped.
+
+“If we do it is all up with us, Major; there is no disguising that.
+However, we need not look at the worst side of things. Well, I will go
+with you to the orderly room, and will talk with you about the hospital
+scheme, mention that there is a rumor of cholera, and so on, and ask
+if I can’t have a part of the courthouse; then we can walk across there
+together, and see what arrangement had best be made.”
+
+The following day brought another dispatch from the Colonel, saying that
+the rumors as to Delhi were confirmed. The regiments there had joined
+the Meerut mutineers, had shot down their officers, and murdered
+every European they could lay hands on; that three officers and six
+noncommissioned officers, who were in charge of the arsenal, had
+defended it desperately, and had finally blown up the magazine with
+hundreds of its assailants. Three of the defenders had reached Meerut
+with the news.
+
+Day by day the gloom thickened. The native regiments in the Punjaub rose
+as soon as the news from Meerut and Delhi reached them, but there were
+white troops there, and they were used energetically and promptly. In
+some places the mutineers were disarmed before they broke out into open
+violence; in other cases mutinous regiments were promptly attacked and
+scattered. Several of the leading chiefs had hastened to assure the
+Government of their fidelity, and had placed their troops and resources
+at its disposal.
+
+But in the Punjaub alone the lookout appeared favorable. In the Daob
+a mutiny had taken place at four of the stations, and the Sepoys had
+marched away to Delhi, but without injuring the Europeans.
+
+After this for a week there was quiet, and then at places widely
+apart--at Hansid and Hissar, to the northwest of Delhi; at Nusserabad,
+in the center of Rajpootana, at Bareilly, and other stations in
+Rohilcund--the Sepoys rose, and in most places massacre was added
+to mutiny. Then three regiments of the Gwalior contingent at Neemuch
+revolted. Then two regiments broke out at Jhansi, and the whole of
+the Europeans, after desperately defending themselves for four days,
+surrendered on promise of their lives, but were instantly murdered.
+
+But before the news of the Jhansi massacre reached Deennugghur they
+heard of other risings nearer to them. On the 30th of May the three
+native regiments at Lucknow rose, but were sharply repulsed by the 300
+European troops under Sir Henry Lawrence. At Seetapoor the Sepoys rose
+on the 3d of June and massacred all the Europeans. On the 4th the Sepoys
+at Mohundee imitated the example of those at Seetapoor, while on the
+8th two regiments rose at Fyzabad, in the southeastern division of the
+province, and massacred all the Europeans.
+
+Up to this time the news from Cawnpore had still been good. The Rajah of
+Bithoor had offered Sir Hugh Wheeler a reinforcement of two guns and
+300 men, and it was believed that, seeing this powerful and influential
+chief had thrown his weight into the scale on the side of the British,
+the four regiments of native troops would remain quiet.
+
+Sir Hugh had but a handful of Europeans with him, but had just received
+a reinforcement of fifty men of the 32d regiment from Lucknow, and he
+had formed an intrenchment within which the Europeans of the station,
+and the fugitives who had come in from the districts around, could take
+refuge.
+
+Several communications passed between Sir Hugh Wheeler and Major Hannay.
+The latter had been offered the choice of moving into Cawnpore with his
+wing of the regiment, or remaining at Deennugghur. He had chosen the
+latter alternative, pointing out that he still believed in the fidelity
+of the troops with him; but that if they went to Cawnpore they would
+doubtless be carried away with other regiments, and would only swell the
+force of mutineers there. He was assured, at any rate, they would not
+rise unless their comrades at Cawnpore did so, but that it was best to
+manifest confidence in them, as not improbably, did they hear that they
+were ordered back to Cawnpore, they might take it as a slur on their
+fidelity, and mutiny at once.
+
+The month had been one of intense anxiety. Gradually stores of
+provisions had been conveyed into the hospital, as it was now called;
+the well inside the yard had been put into working order, and the
+residents had sent in stores of bedding and such portable valuables as
+could be removed.
+
+In but few cases had the outbreaks taken place at night, the mutineers
+almost always breaking out either upon being ordered to parade or upon
+actually falling in; still, it was by no means certain when a crisis
+might come, and the Europeans all lay down to rest in their clothes,
+one person in each house remaining up all night on watch, so that at the
+first alarm all might hurry to the shelter of the hospital.
+
+Its position was a strong one--a lofty wall inclosing a courtyard and
+garden surrounding it. This completely sheltered the lower floor from
+fire; the windows of the upper floor were above the level of the wall,
+and commanded a view over the country, while round the flat terraced
+roof ran a parapet some two feet high.
+
+During the day the ladies of the station generally gathered at Mr.
+Hunter’s, which was the bungalow nearest to the hospital. Here they
+worked at the bags intended to hold earth, and kept up each other’s
+spirits as well as they could. Although all looked pale and worn
+from anxiety and watching, there were, after the first few days, no
+manifestations of fear. Occasionally a tear would drop over their work,
+especially in the case of two of the wives of civilians, whose children
+were in England; but as a whole their conversation was cheerful, each
+trying her best to keep up the spirits of the others. Generally, as soon
+as the meeting was complete, Mrs. Hunter read aloud one of the psalms
+suited to their position and the prayers for those in danger, then the
+work was got out and the needles applied briskly. Even Mrs. Rintoul
+showed a fortitude and courage that would not have been expected from
+her.
+
+“One never knows people,” Mrs. Doolan said to Isobel, as they walked
+back from one of these meetings, “as long as one only sees them under
+ordinary circumstances. I have never had any patience with Mrs. Rintoul,
+with her constant complaining and imaginary ailments. Now that there is
+really something to complain about, she is positively one of the calmest
+and most cheerful among us. It is curious, is it not, how our talk
+always turns upon home? India is hardly ever mentioned. We might be a
+party of intimate friends, sitting in some quiet country place, talking
+of our girlhood. Why, we have learnt more of each other and each other’s
+history in the last fortnight than we should have done if we had lived
+here together for twenty years under ordinary circumstances. Except as
+to your little brother, I think you are the only one, Isobel, who has
+not talked much of home.”
+
+“I suppose it is because my home was not a very happy one,” Isobel said.
+
+“I notice that all the talk is about happy scenes, nothing is ever said
+about disagreeables. I suppose, my dear, it is just as I have heard,
+that starving people talk about the feasts they have eaten, so we talk
+of the pleasant times we have had. It is the contrast that makes them
+dearer. It is funny, too, if anything can be funny in these days, how
+different we are in the evening, when we have the men with us, to what
+we are when we are together alone in the day. Another curious thing is
+that our trouble seems to make us more like each other. Of course we are
+not more like, but we all somehow take the same tone, and seem to have
+given up our own particular ways and fancies.
+
+“Now the men don’t seem like that. Mr. Hunter, for example, whom I used
+to think an even tempered and easygoing sort of man, has become fidgety
+and querulous. The Major is even more genial and kind than usual. The
+Doctor snaps and snarls at everyone and everything. Anyone listening
+to my husband would say that he was in the wildest spirits. Rintoul is
+quieter than usual, and the two lads have grown older and nicer; I don’t
+say they are less full of fun than they were, especially Wilson, but
+they are less boyish in their fun, and they are nice with everyone,
+instead of devoting themselves to two or three of us, you principally.
+Perhaps Richards is the most changed; he thinks less of his collars and
+ties and the polish of his boots than he used to do, and one sees
+that he has some ideas in his head besides those about horses. Captain
+Forster is, perhaps, least changed, but of that you can judge better
+than I can, for you see more of him. As to Mr. Bathurst, I can say
+nothing, for we never see him now. I think he is the only man in the
+station who goes about his work as usual; he starts away the first thing
+in the morning, and comes back late in the evening, and I suppose spends
+the night in writing reports, though what is the use of writing reports
+at the present time I don’t know. Mr. Hunter was saying last night it
+was very foolish of him. What with disbanded soldiers, and what with
+parties of mutineers, it is most dangerous for any European to stir
+outside the station.”
+
+“Uncle was saying the same,” Isobel said quietly.
+
+“Well, here we separate. Of course you will be in as usual this
+evening?” for the Major’s house was the general rendezvous after dinner.
+
+Isobel had her private troubles, although, as she often said angrily
+to herself, when she thought of them, what did it matter now? She was
+discontented with herself for having spoken as strongly as she did as
+to the man’s cowardice. She was very discontented with the Doctor
+for having repeated it. She was angry with Bathurst for staying away
+altogether, although willing to admit that, after he knew what she had
+said, it was impossible that he should meet her as before. Most of all,
+perhaps, she was angry because, at a time when their lives were all in
+deadly peril, she should allow the matter to dwell in her mind a single
+moment.
+
+Late one afternoon Bathurst walked into the Major’s bungalow just as he
+was about to sit down to dinner.
+
+“Major, I want to speak to you for a moment,” he said.
+
+“Sit down and have some dinner, Bathurst. You have become altogether a
+stranger.”
+
+“Thank you, Major, but I have a great deal to do. Can you spare me five
+minutes now? It is of importance.”
+
+Isobel rose to leave the room.
+
+“There is no reason you should not hear, Miss Hannay, but it would be
+better that none of the servants should be present. That is why I wish
+to speak before your uncle goes in to dinner.”
+
+Isobel sat down with an air of indifference.
+
+“For the last week, Major, I have ridden every day five and twenty to
+thirty miles in the direction of Cawnpore; my official work has been
+practically at an end since we heard the news from Meerut. I could be of
+no use here, and thought that I could do no better service than trying
+to obtain the earliest news from Cawnpore; I am sorry to say that this
+afternoon I distinctly heard firing in that direction. What the result
+is, of course, I do not know, but I feel that there is little doubt that
+troubles have begun there. But this is not all. On my return home,
+ten minutes ago, I found this letter on my dressing table. It had no
+direction and is, as you see, in Hindustanee,” and he handed it to the
+Major, who read:
+
+“To the Sahib Bathurst,--Rising at Cawnpore today. Nana Sahib and
+his troops will join the Sepoys. Whites will be destroyed. Rising at
+Deennugghur at daylight tomorrow. Troops, after killing whites, will
+join those at Cawnpore. Be warned in time--this tiger is not to be
+beaten off with a whip.”
+
+“Good Heavens!” the Major exclaimed; “can this be true? Can it be
+possible that the Rajah of Bithoor is going to join the mutineers? It is
+impossible; he could never be such a scoundrel.”
+
+“What is it, uncle?” Isobel asked, leaving her seat and coming up to
+him.
+
+The Major translated the letter.
+
+“It must be a hoax,” he went on; “I cannot believe it. What does this
+stuff about beating a tiger with a whip mean?”
+
+“I am sorry to say, Major Hannay, that part of the letter convinces me
+that the contents can be implicitly relied upon. The writer did not dare
+sign his name, but those words are sufficient to show me, and were no
+doubt intended to show me, who the warning comes from. It is from that
+juggler who performed here some six weeks ago. Traveling about as he
+does, and putting aside altogether those strange powers of his, he
+has no doubt the means of knowing what is going on. As I told you that
+night, I had done him some slight service, and he promised at the time
+that, if the occasion should ever arise, he would risk his life to save
+mine. The fact that he showed, I have no doubt, especially to please me,
+feats that few Europeans have seen before, is, to my mind, a proof of
+his goodwill and that he meant what he said.”
+
+“But how do you know that it is from him. Bathurst? You will excuse
+my pressing the question, but of course everything depends on my being
+assured that this communication is trustworthy.”
+
+“This allusion to the tiger shows me that, Major. It alludes to an
+incident that I believe to be known only to him and his daughter and to
+Dr. Wade, to whom alone I mentioned it.”
+
+As the Major still looked inquiringly, Bathurst went on reluctantly.
+“It was a trifling affair, Major, the result of a passing impulse. I was
+riding home from Narkeet, and while coming along the road through the
+jungle, which was at that time almost deserted by the natives on account
+of the ravages of the man eater whom the Doctor afterwards shot, I heard
+a scream. Galloping forward, I came upon the brute, standing with
+one paw upon a prostrate girl, while a man, the juggler, was standing
+frantically waving his arms. On the impulse of the moment I sprang from
+my horse and lashed the tiger across the head with that heavy dog whip I
+carry, and the brute was so astonished that it bolted in the jungle.
+
+“That was the beginning and end of affairs, except that, although
+fortunately the girl was practically unhurt, she was so unnerved that
+we had to carry her to the next village, where she lay for some time
+ill from the shock and fright. After that they came round here and
+performed, for my amusement, the feats I told you of. So you see I have
+every reason to believe in the good faith of the writer of this letter.”
+
+“By Jove, I should think you had!” the Major said. “Why, my dear
+Bathurst, I had no idea that you could do such a thing!”
+
+“We have all our strong points and our weak ones, Major. That was one of
+my strong ones, I suppose. And now what had best be done, sir? That is
+the important question at present.”
+
+This was so evident, that Major Hannay at once dismissed all other
+thoughts from his mind.
+
+“Of course I and the other officers must remain at our posts until the
+Sepoys actually arrive. The question is as to the others. Now that we
+know the worst, or believe we know it, ought we to send the women and
+children away?”
+
+“That is the question, sir. But where can they be sent? Lucknow is
+besieged; the whites at Cawnpore must have been surrounded by this time;
+the bands of mutineers are ranging the whole country, and at the news
+that Nana Sahib has joined the rebels it is probable that all will
+rise. I should say that it was a matter in which Mr. Hunter and other
+civilians had better be consulted.”
+
+“Yes, we will hold a council,” the Major said.
+
+“I think, Major, it should be done quietly. It is probable that many of
+the servants may know of the intentions of the Sepoys, and if they see
+that anything like a council of the Europeans was being held they
+may take the news to the Sepoys, and the latter, thinking that their
+intention is known, may rise at once.”
+
+“That is quite true. Yes, we must do nothing to arouse suspicion. What
+do you propose, Mr. Bathurst?”
+
+“I will go and have a talk with the Doctor; he can go round to the other
+officers one by one. I will tell Mr. Hunter, and he will tell the other
+residents, so that when they meet here in the evening no explanations
+will be needed, and a very few words as we sit out on the veranda will
+be sufficient.”
+
+“That will be a very good plan. We will sit down to dinner as if nothing
+had happened; if they are watching at all, they will be keeping their
+eyes on us then.”
+
+“Very well; I will be in by nine o’clock, Major;” and with a slight bow
+to Isobel, Bathurst stepped out through the open window, and made his
+way to the Doctor’s.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+The Doctor had just sat down to dinner when Bathurst came in. The two
+subalterns were dining with him.
+
+“That’s good, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, as he entered. “Boy, put a
+chair for Mr. Bathurst. I had begun to think that you had deserted me as
+well as everybody else.”
+
+“I was not thinking of dining,” Bathurst said, as he sat down, “but I
+will do so with pleasure, though I told my man I should be back in half
+an hour;” and as the servant left the room he added, “I have much to
+say, Doctor; get through dinner as quickly as you can, and get the
+servants out of the tent.”
+
+The conversation was at once turned by the Doctor upon shooting and
+hunting, and no allusion was made to passing events until coffee was put
+on the table and the servant retired. The talk, which had been lively
+during dinner, then ceased.
+
+“Well, Bathurst,” the Doctor asked, “I suppose you have something
+serious to tell me?”
+
+“Very serious, Doctor;” and he repeated the news he had given the Major.
+
+“It could not be worse, Bathurst,” the Doctor said quietly, after the
+first shock of the news had passed. “You know I never had any faith in
+the Sepoys since I saw how this madness was spreading from station
+to station. This sort of thing is contagious. It becomes a sort of
+epidemic, and in spite of the assurances of the men I felt sure they
+would go. But this scoundrel of Bithoor turning against us is more than
+I bargained for. There is no disguising the fact that it means a general
+rising through Oude, and in that case God help the women and children.
+As for us, it all comes in the line of business. What does the Major
+say?”
+
+“The only question that seemed to him to be open was whether the women
+and children could be got away.”
+
+“But there does not seem any possible place for them to go to. One or
+two might travel down the country in disguise, but that is out of the
+question for a large party. There is no refuge nearer than Allahabad.
+With every man’s hand against them, I see not the slightest chance of a
+party making their way down.”
+
+“You or I might do it easily enough, Doctor, but for women it seems to
+me out of the question; still, that is a matter for each married man to
+decide for himself. The prospect is dark enough anyway, but, as before,
+it seems to me that everything really depends upon the Zemindars. If we
+hold the courthouse it is possible the Sepoys may be beaten off in their
+first attack, and in their impatience to join the mutineers, who are
+all apparently marching for Delhi, they may go off without throwing away
+their lives by attacking us, for they must see they will not be able
+to take the place without cannon. But if the Zemindars join them with
+cannon, we may defend ourselves till the last, but there can be but one
+end to it.”
+
+The Doctor nodded. “That is the situation exactly, Bathurst.”
+
+“I am glad we know the danger, and shall be able to face it openly,”
+ Wilson said. “For the last month Richards and I have been keeping watch
+alternately, and it has been beastly funky work sitting with one’s
+pistols on the table before one, listening, and knowing any moment there
+might be a yell, and these brown devils come pouring in. Now, at least,
+we are likely to have a fight for it, and to know that some of them will
+go down before we do.”
+
+Richards cordially agreed with his companion.
+
+“Well, now, what are the orders, Bathurst?” said the Doctor.
+
+“There are no orders as yet, Doctor. The Major says you will go round
+to the others, Doolan, Rintoul, and Forster, and tell them. I am to go
+round to Hunter and the other civilians. Then, this evening we are to
+meet at nine o’clock, as usual, at the Major’s. If the others decide
+that the only plan is for all to stop here and fight it out, there will
+be no occasion for anything like a council; it will only have to be
+arranged at what time we all move into the fort, and the best means for
+keeping the news from spreading to the Sepoys. Not that it will make
+much difference after they have once fairly turned in. If there is one
+thing a Hindoo hates more than another, it is getting from under his
+blankets when he has once got himself warm at night. Even if they heard
+at one or two o’clock in the morning that we were moving into the fort I
+don’t think they would turn out till morning.”
+
+“No, I am sure they would not,” the Doctor agreed.
+
+“If there were a few more of us,” Richards said, “I should vote for our
+beginning it. If we were to fall suddenly upon them we might kill a lot
+and scare the rest off.”
+
+“We are too few for that,” the Doctor said. “Besides, although Bathurst
+answers for the good faith of the sender of the warning, there has as
+yet been no act of mutiny that would justify our taking such a step as
+that. It would come to the same thing. We might kill a good many, but in
+the long run three hundred men would be more than a match for a dozen,
+and then the women would be at their mercy. Well, we had better be
+moving, or we shall not have time to go round to the bungalows before
+the people set out for the Major’s.”
+
+It was a painful mission that Bathurst had to perform, for he had to
+tell those he called upon that almost certain death was at hand, but
+the news was everywhere received calmly. The strain had of late been so
+great, that the news that the crisis was at hand was almost welcome. He
+did not stay long anywhere, but, after setting the alternative before
+them, left husband and wife to discuss whether to try to make down to
+Allahabad or to take refuge in the fort.
+
+Soon after nine o’clock all were at Major Hannay’s. There were pale
+faces among them, but no stranger would have supposed that the whole
+party had just received news which was virtually a death warrant. The
+ladies talked together as usual, while the men moved in and out of the
+room, sometimes talking with the Major, sometimes sitting down for a few
+minutes in the veranda outside, or talking there in low tones together.
+
+The Major moved about among them, and soon learned that all had
+resolved to stay and meet together whatever came, preferring that to the
+hardships and unknown dangers of flight.
+
+“I am glad you have all decided so,” he said quietly. “In the state the
+country is, the chances of getting to Allahabad are next to nothing.
+Here we may hold out till Lawrence restores order at Lucknow, and then
+he may be able to send a party to bring us in. Or the mutineers may draw
+off and march to Delhi. I certainly think the chances are best here;
+besides, every rifle we have is of importance, and though if any of
+you had made up your minds to try and escape I should have made no
+objection, I am glad that we shall all stand together here.”
+
+The arrangements were then briefly made for the removal to the
+courthouse. All were to go back and apparently to retire to bed as
+usual. At twelve o’clock the men, armed, were to call up their servants,
+load them up with such things as were most required, and proceed with
+them, the women, and children, at once to the courthouse. Half the men
+were to remain there on guard, while the others would continue with
+the servants to make journeys backwards and forwards to the bungalows,
+bringing in as much as could be carried, the guard to be changed every
+hour. In the morning the servants were all to have the choice given them
+of remaining with their masters or leaving.
+
+Captain Forster was the only dissentient. He was in favor of the whole
+party mounting, placing the women and children in carriages, and making
+off in a body, fighting their way if necessary down to Allahabad. He
+admitted that, in addition to the hundred troopers of his own squadron,
+they might be cut off by the mutinous cavalry from Cawnpore, fall in
+with bodies of rebels or be attacked by villagers, but he maintained
+that there was at least some chance of cutting their way through, while,
+once shut up in the courthouse, escape would be well nigh impossible.
+
+“But you all along agreed to our holding the courthouse, Forster,” the
+Major said.
+
+“Yes; but then I reckoned upon Cawnpore holding out with the assistance
+of Nana Sahib, and upon the country remaining quiet. Now the whole thing
+is changed. I am quite ready to fight in the open, and to take my chance
+of being killed there, but I protest against being shut up like a rat in
+a hole.”
+
+To the rest, however, the proposal appeared desperate. There would be no
+withstanding a single charge of the well trained troopers, especially as
+it would be necessary to guard the vehicles. Had it not been for that,
+the small body of men might possibly have cut their way through the
+cavalry; but even then they would be so hotly pursued that the most of
+them would assuredly be hunted down. But encumbered by the women such
+an enterprise seemed utterly hopeless, and the whole of the others were
+unanimously against it.
+
+The party broke up very early. The strain of maintaining their ordinary
+demeanor was too great to be long endured, and the ladies with children
+were anxious to return as soon as possible to them, lest at the last
+moment the Sepoys should have made some change in their arrangements. By
+ten o’clock the whole party had left.
+
+The two subalterns had no preparations to make; they had already sent
+most of their things into the hospital; and, lighting their pipes, they
+sat down and talked quietly till midnight; then, placing their pistols
+in their belts and wrapping themselves in their cloaks, they went into
+the Doctor’s tent, which was next to theirs.
+
+The Doctor at once roused his servant, who was sleeping in a shelter
+tent pitched by the side of his. The man came in looking surprised at
+being called. “Roshun,” the Doctor said, “you have been with me ten
+years, and I believe you to be faithful.”
+
+“I would lay down my life for the sahib,” the man said quietly.
+
+“You have heard nothing of any trouble with the Sepoys?”
+
+“No, sahib; they know that Roshun is faithful to his master.”
+
+“We have news that they are going to rise in the morning and kill all
+Europeans, so we are going to move at once into the hospital.”
+
+“Good, sahib; what will you take with you?”
+
+“My books and papers have all gone in,” the Doctor said; “that
+portmanteau may as well go. I will carry these two rifles myself; the
+ammunition is all there except that bag in the corner, which I will
+sling round my shoulder.”
+
+“What are in those two cases, Doctor?” Wilson asked.
+
+“Brandy, lad.”
+
+“We may as well each carry one of those, Doctor, if your boy takes the
+portmanteau. It would be a pity to leave good liquor to be wasted by
+those brutes.”
+
+“I agree with you, Wilson; besides, the less liquor they get hold of
+the better for us. Now, if you are all ready, we will start; but we must
+move quietly, or the sentry at the quarter guard may hear us.”
+
+Ten minutes later they reached the hospital, being the last of the party
+to arrive there.
+
+“Now, Major,” the Doctor said cheerily, as soon as he entered, “as this
+place is supposed to be under my special charge I will take command for
+the present. Wilson and Richards will act as my lieutenants. We have
+nothing to do outside, and can devote ourselves to getting things a
+little straight here. The first thing to do is to light lamps in all the
+lower rooms; then we can see what we are doing, and the ladies will be
+able to give us their help, while the men go out with the servants to
+bring things in; and remember the first thing to do is to bring in the
+horses. They may be useful to us. There is a good store of forage piled
+in the corner of the yard, but the syces had best bring in as much
+more as they can carry. Now, ladies, if you will all bring your bundles
+inside the house we will set about arranging things, and at any rate get
+the children into bed as quickly as possible.”
+
+As it had been already settled as to the rooms to be occupied, the
+ladies and their ayahs set to work at once, glad to have something to
+employ them. One of the rooms which had been fitted up with beds had
+been devoted to the purposes of a nursery, and the children, most of
+whom were still asleep, were soon settled there. Two other rooms had
+been fitted up for the use of the ladies, while the men were occupying
+two others, the courtroom being turned into a general meeting and dining
+room.
+
+At first there was not much to do; but as the servants, closely watched
+by their masters, went backwards and forwards bringing in goods of all
+kinds, there was plenty of employment in carrying them down to a large
+underground room, where they were left to be sorted later on.
+
+The Doctor had appointed Isobel Hannay and the two Miss Hunters to the
+work of lighting a fire and getting boiling water ready, and a plentiful
+supply of coffee was presently made, Wilson and Richards drawing the
+water, carrying the heavier loads downstairs, and making themselves
+generally useful.
+
+Captain Forster had not come in. He had undertaken to remain in his tent
+in the lines, where he had quietly saddled and unpicketed his horse,
+tying it up to the tent ropes so that he could mount in an instant. He
+still believed that his own men would stand firm, and declared he would
+at their head charge the mutinous infantry, while if they joined the
+mutineers he would ride into the fort. It was also arranged that he
+should bring in word should the Sepoys obtain news of what was going on
+and rise before morning.
+
+All felt better and more cheerful after having taken some coffee.
+
+“It is difficult to believe, Miss Hannay,” Richards said, “that this
+is all real, and not a sort of picnic, or an early start on a hunting
+expedition.”
+
+“It is indeed, Mr. Richards. I can hardly believe even now that it is
+all true, and have pinched myself two or three times to make sure that I
+am awake.”
+
+“If the villains venture to attack us,” Wilson said, “I feel sure we
+shall beat them off handsomely.”
+
+“I have no doubt we shall, Mr. Wilson, especially as it will be in
+daylight. You know you and Mr. Richards are not famous for night
+shooting.”
+
+The young men both laughed.
+
+“We shall never hear the last of that tiger story, Miss Hannay. I can
+tell you it is no joke shooting when you have been sitting cramped up
+on a tree for about six hours. We are really both pretty good shots.
+Of course, I don’t mean like the Doctor; but we always make good scores
+with the targets. Come, Richards, here is another lot of things; if they
+go on at this rate the Sepoys won’t find much to loot in the bungalows
+tomorrow.”
+
+Just as daylight was breaking the servants were all called together, and
+given the choice of staying or leaving. Only some eight or ten, all of
+whom belonged to the neighborhood, chose to go off to their villages.
+The rest declared they would stay with their masters.
+
+Two of the party by turns had been on watch all night on the terrace
+to listen for any sound of tumult in the lines, but all had gone on
+quietly. Bathurst had been working with the others all night, and
+after seeing that all his papers were carried to the courthouse, he
+had troubled but little about his own belongings, but had assisted the
+others in bringing in their goods.
+
+At daylight the Major and his officers mounted and rode quietly down
+towards the parade ground. Bathurst and Mr. Hunter, with several of the
+servants, took their places at the gates, in readiness to open and close
+them quickly, while the Doctor and the other Europeans went up to the
+roof, where they placed in readiness six muskets for each man, from the
+store in the courthouse. Isobel Hannay and the wives of the two Captains
+were too anxious to remain below, and went up to the roof also. The
+Doctor took his place by them, examining the lines with a field glass.
+
+The officers halted when they reached the parade ground, and sat on
+their horses in a group, waiting for the men to turn out as usual.
+
+“There goes the assembly,” the Doctor said, as the notes of the bugle
+came to their ears. “The men are turning out of their tents. There, I
+can make out Forster; he has just mounted; a plucky fellow that.”
+
+Instead of straggling out onto the parade ground as usual, the Sepoys
+seemed to hang about their tents. The cavalry mounted and formed up in
+their lines. Suddenly a gun was fired, and as if at the signal the whole
+of the infantry rushed forward towards the officers, yelling and
+firing, and the latter at once turned their horses and rode towards the
+courthouse.
+
+“Don’t be alarmed, my dear,” the Doctor said to Isobel; “I don’t suppose
+anyone is hit. The Sepoys are not good shots at the best of times, and
+firing running they would not be able to hit a haystack at a hundred
+yards. The cavalry stand firm, you see,” he said, turning his glass in
+that direction. “Forster is haranguing them. There, three of the native
+officers are riding up to him. Ah! one has fired at him! Missed! Ah!
+that is a better shot,” as the man fell from his horse, from a shot from
+his Captain’s pistol.
+
+The other two rushed at him. One he cut down, and the other shot. Then
+he could be seen again, shouting and waving his sword to the men, but
+their yells could be heard as they rode forward at him.
+
+“Ride, man, ride!” the Doctor shouted, although his voice could not have
+been heard at a quarter of the distance.
+
+But instead of turning Forster rode right at them. There was a confused
+melee for a moment, and then his figure appeared beyond the line,
+through which he had broken. With yells of fury the troopers reined in
+their horses and tried to turn them, but before they could do so the
+officer was upon them again. His revolver cracked in his left hand, and
+his sword flashed in his right. Two or three horses and men were seen to
+roll over, and in a moment he was through them again and riding at full
+speed for the courthouse, under a scattered fire from the infantry,
+while the horsemen, now in a confused mass, galloped behind him.
+
+“Now then,” the Doctor shouted, picking up his rifle; “let them know
+we are within range, but mind you don’t hit Forster. Fire two or three
+shots, and then run down to the gate. He is well mounted, and has a good
+fifty yards’ start of them.”
+
+Then taking deliberate aim he fired. The others followed his example.
+Three of the troopers dropped from their horses. Four times those on the
+terrace fired, and then ran down, each, at the Doctor’s order, taking
+two guns with him. One of these was placed in the hands of each of the
+officers who had just ridden in, and they then gathered round the gate.
+In two minutes Forster rode in at full speed, then fifteen muskets
+flashed out, and several of the pursuers fell from their horses. A
+minute later the gate was closed and barred, and the men all ran up to
+the roof, from which three muskets were fired simultaneously.
+
+“Well done!” the Doctor exclaimed. “That is a good beginning.”
+
+A minute later a brisk fire was opened from the terrace upon the
+cavalry, who at once turned and rode rapidly back to their lines.
+
+Captain Forster had not come scathless through the fray; his cheek had
+been laid open by a sabre cut, and a musket ball had gone through the
+fleshy part of his arm as he rode back.
+
+“This comes of fighting when there is no occasion,” the Doctor growled,
+when he dressed his wounds. “Here you are charging a host like a paladin
+of old, forgetful that we want every man who can lift an arm in defense
+of this place.”
+
+“I think, Doctor, there is someone else wants your services more than I
+do.”
+
+“Yes; is anyone else hit?”
+
+“No, I don’t know that anyone else is hit, Doctor; but as I turned to
+come into the house after the gates were shut, there was that fellow
+Bathurst leaning against the wall as white as a sheet, and shaking all
+over like a leaf. I should say a strong dose of Dutch courage would be
+the best medicine there.”
+
+“You do not do justice to Bathurst, Captain Forster,” the Doctor said
+gravely. “He is a man I esteem most highly. In some respects he is the
+bravest man I know, but he is constitutionally unable to stand
+noise, and the sound of a gun is torture to him. It is an unfortunate
+idiosyncrasy for which he is in no way accountable.”
+
+“Exceedingly unfortunate, I should say,” Forster said, with a dry
+laugh; “especially at times like this. It is rather unlucky for him
+that fighting is generally accompanied by noise. If I had such an
+idiosyncrasy, as you call it, I would blow out my brains.”
+
+“Perhaps Bathurst would do so, too, Captain Forster, if he had not more
+brains to blow out than some people have.”
+
+“That is sharp, Doctor,” Forster laughed good temperedly. “I don’t mind
+a fair hit.”
+
+“Well, I must go,” the Doctor said, somewhat mollified; “there is plenty
+to do, and I expect, after these fellows have held a council of war,
+they will be trying an attack.”
+
+When the Doctor went out he found the whole of the garrison busy. The
+Major had placed four men on the roof, and had ordered everyone else to
+fill the bags that had been prepared for the purpose with earth from
+the garden. It was only an order to the men and male servants, but
+the ladies had all gone out to render their assistance. As fast as the
+natives filled the bags with earth the ladies sewed up the mouths of the
+bags, and the men carried them away and piled them against the gate.
+
+The garrison consisted of the six military officers, the Doctor, seven
+civilians, ten ladies, eight children, thirty-eight male servants, and
+six females. The work, therefore, went on rapidly, and in the course
+of two hours so large a pile of bags was built up against the gate that
+there was no probability whatever of its being forced.
+
+“Now,” the Major said, “we want four dozen bags at least for the
+parapet of the terrace. We need not raise it all, but we must build up a
+breastwork two bags high at each of the angles.”
+
+There was only just time to accomplish this when one of the watch on the
+roof reported that the Sepoys were firing the bungalows. As soon as
+they saw that the Europeans had gained the shelter of the courthouse the
+Sepoys, with yells of triumph, had made for the houses of the Europeans,
+and their disappointment at finding that not only had all the whites
+taken refuge in the courthouse, but that they had removed most of
+their property, vented itself in setting fire to the buildings, after
+stripping them of everything, and then amused themselves by keeping up a
+straggling fire against the courthouse.
+
+As soon as the bags were taken onto the roof, the defenders, keeping as
+much as possible under the shelter of the parapet, carried them to
+the corners of the terrace and piled them two deep, thus forming a
+breastwork four feet high. Eight of the best shots were then chosen, and
+two of them took post at each corner.
+
+“Now,” the Doctor said cheerfully, as he sat behind a small loophole
+that had been left between the bags, “it is our turn, and I don’t fancy
+we shall waste as much lead as they have been doing.”
+
+The fire from the defenders was slow, but it was deadly, and in a very
+short time the Sepoys no longer dared to show themselves in the open,
+but took refuge behind trees, whence they endeavored to reply to the
+fire on the roof; but even this proved so dangerous that it was not long
+before the fire ceased altogether, and they drew off under cover of the
+smoke from the burning bungalows.
+
+Isobel Hannay had met Bathurst as he was carrying a sack of earth to the
+roof.
+
+“I have been wanting to speak to you, Mr. Bathurst, ever since yesterday
+evening, but you have never given me an opportunity. Will you step into
+the storeroom for a few minutes as you come down?”
+
+As he came down he went to the door of the room in which Isobel was
+standing awaiting him.
+
+“I am not coming in, Miss Hannay; I believe I know what you are going
+to say. I saw it in your face last night when I had to tell that tiger
+story. You want to say that you are sorry you said that you despised
+cowards. Do not say it; you were perfectly right; you cannot despise
+me one tenth as much as I despise myself. While you were looking at the
+mutineers from the roof I was leaning against the wall below well nigh
+fainting. What do you think my feelings must be that here, where every
+man is brave, where there are women and children to be defended, I alone
+cannot bear my part. Look at my face; I know there is not a vestige of
+color in it. Look at my hands; they are not steady yet. It is useless
+for you to speak; you may pity me, but you cannot but despise me.
+Believe me, that death when it comes will be to me a happy release
+indeed from the shame and misery I feel.”
+
+Then, turning, he left the girl without another word, and went about
+his work. The Doctor had, just before going up to take his place on the
+roof, come across him.
+
+“Come in here, my dear Bathurst,” he said, seizing his arm and dragging
+him into the room which had been given up to him for his drugs and
+surgical appliances.
+
+“Let me give you a strong dose of ammonia and ginger; you want a pickup
+I can see by your face.”
+
+“I want it, Doctor, but I will not take it,” Bathurst said. “That is
+one thing I have made up my mind to. I will take no spirits to create a
+courage that I do not possess.”
+
+“It is not courage; it has nothing to do with courage,” the Doctor said
+angrily. “It is a simple question of nerves, as I have told you over and
+over again.”
+
+“Call it what you like, Doctor, the result is precisely the same. I do
+not mind taking a strong dose of quinine if you will give it me, for I
+feel as weak as a child, but no spirits.”
+
+With an impatient shrug of the shoulders the Doctor mixed a strong dose
+of quinine and gave it to him.
+
+An hour later a sudden outburst of musketry took place. Not a native
+showed himself on the side of the house facing the maidan, but from the
+gardens on the other three sides a heavy fire was opened.
+
+“Every man to the roof,” the Major said; “four men to each of the rear
+corners, three to the others. Do you think you are fit to fire, Forster?
+Had you not better keep quiet for today; you will have opportunities
+enough.”
+
+“I am all right, Major,” he said carelessly. “I can put my rifle through
+a loophole and fire, though I have one arm in a sling. By Jove!” he
+broke off suddenly; “look at that fellow Bathurst--he looks like a
+ghost.”
+
+The roll of musketry was unabated, and the defenders were already
+beginning to answer it; the bullets sung thickly overhead, and above the
+din could be heard the shouts of the natives. Bathurst’s face was rigid
+and ghastly pale. The Major hurried to him.
+
+“My dear Bathurst,” he said, “I think you had better go below. You will
+find plenty of work to do there.”
+
+“My work is here,” Bathurst said, as if speaking to himself: “it must be
+done.”
+
+The Major could not at the moment pay further attention to him, for a
+roar of fire broke out round the inclosure, as from the ruined bungalows
+and from every bush the Sepoys, who had crept up, now commenced the
+attack in earnest, while the defenders lying behind their parapet
+replied slowly and steadily, aiming at the puffs of smoke as they darted
+out. His attention was suddenly called by a shout from the Doctor.
+
+“Are you mad, Bathurst? Lie down, man; you a throwing away your life.”
+
+Turning round, the Major saw Bathurst standing up--right by the parapet,
+facing the point where the enemy fire was hottest. He held a rifle in
+his hand but did not attempt to fire; his figure swayed slightly to and
+fro.
+
+“Lie down,” the Major shouted, “lie down, sir;” and then as Bathurst
+still stood unmoved he was about to run forward, when the Doctor from
+one side and Captain Forster from the other rushed towards him through a
+storm of bullets, seized him in their arms, and dragged him back to the
+center of the terrace.
+
+“Nobly done, gentlemen,” the Major said, as they laid Bathurst down; “it
+was almost miraculous your not being hit.”
+
+Bathurst had struggled fiercely for a moment, and then his resistance
+had suddenly ceased, and he had been dragged back like a wooden figure.
+His eyes were closed now.
+
+“Has he been hit, Doctor?” the Major asked. “It seems impossible he
+can have escaped. What madness possessed him to put himself there as a
+target?”
+
+“No, I don’t think he is hit,” the Doctor said, as he examined him. “I
+think he has fainted. We had better carry him down to my room. Shake
+hands, Forster; I know you and Bathurst were not good friends, and you
+risked your life to save him.”
+
+“I did not think who it was,” Forster said, with a careless laugh. “I
+saw a man behaving like a madman, and naturally went to pull him down.
+However, I shall think better of him in future, though I doubt whether
+he was in his right senses.”
+
+“He wanted to be killed,” the Doctor said quietly; “and the effort that
+he made to place himself in the way of death must have been greater than
+either you or I can well understand, Forster. I know the circumstances
+of the case. Morally I believe there is no braver man living than he is;
+physically he has the constitution of a timid woman; it is mind against
+body.”
+
+“The distinction is too fine for me, Doctor,” Forster said, as he
+turned to go off to his post by the parapet. “I understand pluck and I
+understand cowardice, but this mysterious mixture you speak of is beyond
+me altogether.”
+
+The Major and Dr. Wade lifted Bathurst and carried him below. Mrs.
+Hunter, who had been appointed chief nurse, met them.
+
+“Is he badly wounded, Doctor?”
+
+“No; he is not wounded at all, Mrs. Hunter. He stood up at the edge of
+the parapet and exposed himself so rashly to the Sepoys’ fire that
+we had to drag him away, and then the reaction, acting on a nervous
+temperament, was too much for him, and he fainted. We shall soon bring
+him round. You can come in with me, but keep the others away.”
+
+The Major at once returned to the terrace.
+
+In spite of the restoratives the Doctor poured through his lips, and
+cold water dashed in his face, Bathurst was some time before he opened
+his eyes. Seeing Mrs. Hunter and the Doctor beside him, he made an
+effort to rise.
+
+“You must lie still, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, pressing his hand on
+his shoulder. “You have done a very foolish thing, a very wrong thing.
+You have tried to throw away your life.”
+
+“No, I did not. I had no thought of throwing away my life,” Bathurst
+said, after a pause. “I was trying to make myself stand fire. I did
+not think whether I should be hit or not. I am not afraid of bullets,
+Doctor; it’s the horrible, fiendish noise that I cannot stand.”
+
+“I know, my boy,” the Doctor said kindly; “but it comes to the same
+thing. You did put yourself in the way of bullets when your doing so was
+of no possible advantage, and it is almost a miracle that you escaped
+unhurt. You must remain here quiet for the present. II shall leave you
+in charge of Mrs. Hunter. There is nothing for you to do on the roof
+at present. This attack is a mere outbreak of rage on the part of the
+Sepoys that we have all escaped them. They know well enough they can’t
+take this house by merely firing away at the roof. When they attack in
+earnest it will be quite time for you to take part in the affair again.
+Now, Mrs. Hunter, my orders are absolute that he is not to be allowed to
+get up.”
+
+On the Doctor leaving the room he found several of the ladies outside;
+the news that Mr. Bathurst had been carried down had spread among them.
+
+“Is he badly hurt, Doctor?”
+
+“No, ladies. Mr. Bathurst is, unfortunately for himself, an extremely
+nervous man, and the noise of firearms has an effect upon him that he
+cannot by any effort of his own overcome. In order, as he says, to try
+and accustom himself to it, he went and stood at the edge of the parapet
+in full sight of the Sepoys, and let them blaze away at him. He must
+have been killed if Forster and I had not dragged him away by main
+force. Then came the natural reaction, and he fainted. That is all there
+is about it. Poor fellow, he is extremely sensitive on the ground of
+personal courage. In other respects I have known him do things requiring
+an amount of pluck that not one man in a hundred possesses, and I wish
+you all to remember that his nervousness at the effect of the noise of
+firearms is a purely constitutional weakness, for which he is in no way
+to be blamed. He has just risked his life in the most reckless manner in
+order to overcome what he considers, and what he knows that some persons
+consider, is cowardice, and it would be as cruel, and I may say as
+contemptible, to despise him for a constitutional failing as it would be
+to despise a person for being born a humpback or a cripple. But I cannot
+stand talking any longer. I shall be of more use on the roof than I am
+here.”
+
+Isobel Hannay was not among those who had gathered near the door of the
+room in which Bathurst was lying, but the Doctor had raised his voice,
+and she heard what he said, and bent over her work of sewing strips of
+linen together for bandages with a paler face than had been caused by
+the outbreak of musketry. Gradually the firing ceased. The Sepoys had
+suffered heavily from the steady fire of the invisible defenders and
+gradually drew off, and in an hour from the commencement of the attack
+all was silent round the building.
+
+“So far so good, ladies,” the Major said cheerily, as the garrison,
+leaving one man on watch, descended from the roof. “We have had no
+casualties, and I think we must have inflicted a good many, and the
+mutineers are not likely to try that game on again, for they must see
+that they are wasting ammunition, and are doing us no harm. Now I hope
+the servants have got tiffin ready for us, for I am sure we have all
+excellent appetites.”
+
+“Tiffin is quite ready, Major,” Mrs. Doolan, who had been appointed
+chief of the commissariat department, said cheerfully. “The servants
+were a little disorganized when the firing began, but they soon became
+accustomed to it, and I think you will find everything in order in the
+hall.”
+
+The meal was really a cheerful one. The fact that the first attack had
+passed over without anyone being hit raised the spirits of the women,
+and all were disposed to look at matters in a cheerful light. The two
+young subalterns were in high spirits, and the party were more lively
+than they had been since the first outbreak of the mutiny. All had felt
+severely the strain of waiting, and the reality of danger was a positive
+relief after the continuous suspense. It was much to them to know that
+the crisis had come at last, that they were still all together and the
+foe were without.
+
+“It is difficult to believe,” Mrs. Doolan said, “that it was only
+yesterday evening we were all gathered at the Major’s. It seems an age
+since then.”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Rintoul agreed; “the night seemed endless. The worst
+time was the waiting till we were to begin to move over. After that I
+did not so much mind, though it seemed more like a week than a night
+while the things were being brought in here.”
+
+“I think the worse time was while we were waiting watching from the roof
+to see whether the troops would come out on parade as usual,” Isobel
+said. “When my uncle and the others were all in, and Captain Forster,
+and the gates were shut, it seemed that our anxieties were over.”
+
+“That was a mad charge of yours, Forster,” the Major said. “It was like
+the Balaclava business--magnificent; but it wasn’t war.”
+
+“I did not think of it one way or the other,” Captain Forster laughed.
+“I was so furious at the insolence off those dogs attacking me, that
+I thought of nothing else, and just went at them; but of course it was
+foolish.”
+
+“It did good,” the Doctor said. “It showed the Sepoys how little we
+thought of them, and how a single white officer was ready to match
+himself against a squadron. It will render them a good deal more careful
+in their attack than they otherwise would have been. It brought them
+under our fire, too, and they suffered pretty heavily; and I am sure the
+infantry must have lost a good many men from our fire just now. I hope
+they will come to the conclusion that the wisest thing they can do is
+to march away to Delhi and leave us severely alone. Now what are your
+orders, Major, for after breakfast?”
+
+“I think the best thing is for everyone to lie down for a few hours,”
+ the Major said. “No one had a wink of sleep last night, and most of us
+have not slept much for some nights past. We must always keep two men on
+the roof, to be relieved every two hours. I will draw up a regular rota
+for duty; but except those two, the rest had better take a good sleep.
+We may be all called upon to be under arms at night.”
+
+“I will go on the first relief, Major,” the Doctor said. “I feel
+particularly wide awake. It is nothing new to me to be up all night. Put
+Bathurst down with me,” he said, in a low tone, as the Major rose from
+the table. “He knows that I understand him, and it will be less painful
+for him to be with me than with anyone else. I will go up at once, and
+send young Harper down to his breakfast. There will be no occasion to
+have Bathurst up this time. The Sepoys are not likely to be trying any
+pranks at present. No doubt they have gone back to their lines to get a
+meal.”
+
+The Doctor had not been long at his post when Isobel Hannay came up
+onto the terrace. They had seen each other alone comparatively little of
+late, as the Doctor had given up his habit of dropping in for a chat in
+the morning since their conversation about Bathurst.
+
+“Well, my dear, what is it?” he asked. “This is no place for you, for
+there are a few fellows still lurking among the trees, and they send a
+shot over the house occasionally.”
+
+“I came up to say that I am sorry, Doctor.”
+
+“That is right, Isobel. Always say you are sorry when you are so,
+although in nine cases out of ten, and this is one of them, the saying
+so is too late to do much good.”
+
+“I think you are rather hard upon me, Doctor. I know you were speaking
+at me today when you were talking to the others, especially in what you
+said at the end.”
+
+“Perhaps I was; but I think you quite deserved it.”
+
+“Yes, I know I did; but it was hard to tell me it was as contemptible to
+despise a man for a physical weakness he could not help, as to despise
+one for being born humpbacked or a cripple, when you know that my
+brother was so.”
+
+“I wanted you to feel that your conduct had been contemptible, Isobel,
+and I put it in the way that was most likely to come home to you. I have
+been disappointed in you. I thought you were more sensible than the run
+of young women, and I found out that you were not. I thought you had
+some confidence in my judgment, but it turned out that you had not.
+If Bathurst had been killed when he was standing up, a target for the
+Sepoys, I should have held you morally responsible for his death.”
+
+“You would have shared the responsibility, anyhow, Doctor, for it was
+you who repeated my words to him.”
+
+“We will not go over that ground again,” said the Doctor quietly. “I
+gave you my reasons for doing so, and those reasons are to my mind
+convincing. Now I will tell you how this constitutional nervousness on
+his part arose. He told me the story; but as at that time there had
+been no occasion for him to show whether he was brave or otherwise, I
+considered my lips sealed. Now that his weakness has been exhibited, I
+consider myself more than justified in explaining its origin.”
+
+And he then repeated the story Bathurst had told him.
+
+“You see,” he said, when he had finished, “it is a constitutional matter
+beyond his control; it is a sort of antipathy. I have known a case of a
+woman courageous in all other respects, who, at the sight of even a
+dead cockroach, would faint away. I have seen one of the most gallant
+officers of my acquaintance turn pale at the sight of a spider.
+Certainly no one would think of calling either one or the other coward;
+and assuredly such a name should not be applied to a man who would face
+a tiger armed only with a whip in defense of a native woman, because his
+nerves go all to pieces at the sound of firearms.”
+
+“If you had told me all this before I should never have spoken as I
+did,” Isobel pleaded.
+
+“I did not go into the full details, but I told you that he was not
+responsible for his want of firmness under fire, and that I knew him
+in other respects to be a brave man,” the Doctor said uncompromisingly.
+“Since then you have by your manner driven him away from you. You have
+flirted--well, you may not call it flirting,” he broke off in answer
+to a gesture of denial, “but it was the same thing--with a man who is
+undoubtedly a gallant soldier--a very paladin, if you like--but who,
+in spite of his handsome face and pleasant manner, is no more to be
+compared with Bathurst in point of moral qualities or mental ability
+than light to dark, and this after I had like an old fool gone out of my
+way to warn you. You have disappointed me altogether, Isobel Hannay.”
+
+Isobel stood motionless before him, with downcast eyes.
+
+“Well, there, my dear,” the Doctor went on hurriedly, as he saw a tear
+glisten in her eyelashes; “don’t let us say anything more about it. In
+the first place, it is no affair of mine; and in the second place, your
+point of view was that most women would take at a time like this; only,
+you know, I expected you would not have done just as other women would.
+We cannot afford to quarrel now, for there is no doubt that, although we
+may put a good face on the matter, our position is one of grave peril,
+and it is of no use troubling over trifles. Now run away, and get a few
+hours’ sleep if you can. You will want all your strength before we are
+through with this business.”
+
+While the Doctor had been talking to Isobel, the men had gathered below
+in a sort of informal council, the subject being Bathurst’s conduct on
+the roof.
+
+“I would not have believed it if I had not seen it,” Captain Rintoul
+said. “The man was absolutely helpless with fright; I never saw such an
+exhibition; and then his fainting afterwards and having to be carried
+away was disgusting; in fact, it is worse than that.”
+
+There was a general murmur of assent.
+
+“It is disgraceful,” one of the civilians said; “I am ashamed that the
+man should belong to our service; the idea of a fellow being helpless by
+fright when there are women and children to be defended--it is downright
+revolting.”
+
+“Well, he did go and stick himself up in front,” Wilson said; “you
+should remember that. He may have been in a blue funk, I don’t say he
+wasn’t; still, you know, he didn’t go away and try to hide himself, but
+he stuck himself up in front for them to fire at. I think we ought to
+take that into consideration.”
+
+“Dr. Wade says Bathurst put himself there to try and accustom himself to
+fire,” Captain Forster said. “Mind, I don’t pretend to like the man. We
+were at school together, and he was a coward then and a sneak, but for
+all that one should look at it fairly. The Doctor asserts that Bathurst
+is morally brave, but that somehow or other his nerves are too much
+for him. I don’t pretend to understand it myself, but there is no
+doubt about the Doctor’s pluck, and I don’t think he would stand up
+for Bathurst as he does unless he really thought he was not altogether
+accountable for showing the white feather. I think, too, from what he
+let drop, that the Major is to some extent of the same opinion. What do
+you think, Doolan?”
+
+“I like Bathurst,” Captain Doolan said; “I have always thought him a
+first rate fellow; but one can’t stick up, you know, for a fellow who
+can’t behave as a gentleman ought to, especially when there are women
+and children in danger.”
+
+“It. is quite impossible that we should associate with him,” Captain
+Rintoul said. “I don’t propose that we should tell him what we think of
+him, but I think we ought to leave him severely alone.”
+
+“I should say that he ought to be sent to Coventry,” Richards said.
+
+“I should not put it in that way,” Mr. Hunter said gravely. “I have
+always esteemed Bathurst. I look upon it as a terribly sad case; but
+I agree with Captain Rintoul that, in the position in which we are now
+placed, a man who proves himself to be a coward must be made to feel
+that he stands apart from us. I should not call it sending him to
+Coventry, or anything of that sort, but I do think that we should
+express by our manner that we don’t wish to have any communication with
+him.”
+
+There was a general expression of assent to this opinion, Wilson alone
+protesting against it.
+
+“You can do as you like,” he said; “but certainly I shall speak to
+Bathurst, and I am sure the Doctor and Major Hannay will do so. I don’t
+want to stand up for a coward, but I believe what the Doctor says. I
+have seen a good deal of Bathurst, and I like him; besides, haven’t you
+heard the story the Doctor has been telling about his attacking a tiger
+with a whip to save a native woman? I don’t care what anyone says, a
+fellow who is a downright coward couldn’t do a thing like that.”
+
+“Who told the Doctor about it?” Farquharson asked. “If he got it from
+Bathurst, I don’t think it goes for much after what we have seen.”
+
+Wilson would have replied angrily, but Captain Doolan put his hand on
+his shoulder.
+
+“Shut up, Wilson,” he said; “this is no time for disputes; we are all in
+one boat here, and must row together like brothers. You go your own
+way about Bathurst, I don’t blame you for it; he is a man everyone has
+liked, a first rate official, and a good fellow all round, except he is
+not one of the sociable kind. At any other time one would not think so
+much of this, but at present for a man to lack courage is for him to
+lack everything. I hope he will come better out of it than it looks at
+present. He will have plenty of chances here, and no one will be more
+glad than I shall to see him pull himself together.”
+
+The Doctor, however, would have quarreled with everyone all round when
+he heard what had been decided upon, had not Major Hannay taken him
+aside and talked to him strongly.
+
+“It will never do, Doctor, to have quarrels here, and as commandant I
+must beg of you not to make this a personal matter. I am very sorry for
+this poor fellow; I accept entirely your view of the matter; but at
+the same time I really can’t blame the others for looking at it from a
+matter of fact point of view. Want of courage is at all times regarded
+by men as the most unpardonable of failings, and at a time like the
+present this feeling is naturally far stronger even than usual. I hope
+with you that Bathurst will retrieve himself yet, but we shall certainly
+do him no good by trying to fight his battle until he does. You and
+I, thinking as we do, will of course make no alteration in our manner
+towards him. I am glad to hear that young Wilson also stands as his
+friend. Let matters go on quietly. I believe they will come right in the
+end.”
+
+The Doctor was obliged to acknowledge that the Major’s counsel was wise,
+and to refrain from either argument or sarcasm; but the effort required
+to check his natural tendency to wordy conflict was almost too great for
+him, and when not engaged in his own special duties he spent hours in
+one of the angles of the terrace keenly watching every tree and bush
+within range, and firing vengefully whenever he caught sight of a
+lurking native. So accurate was his aim that the Sepoys soon learned
+to know and dread the crack of his rifle; and whenever it spoke out the
+ground within its range was speedily clear of foes.
+
+The matter, however, caused a deep if temporary estrangement between
+Wilson and Richards. Although constantly chaffing each other, and
+engaged in verbal strife, they had hitherto been firm friends. Their
+rivalry in the matter of horseflesh had not aroused angry feelings, even
+their mutual adoration of Isobel Hannay had not affected a breach in
+their friendship; but upon the subject of sending Bathurst to
+Coventry they quarreled so hotly, that for a time they broke off all
+communication with each other, and both in their hearts regretted that
+their schoolboy days had passed, and that they could not settle the
+matter in good schoolboy fashion.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+But though obliged to defer to Major Hannay’s wishes, and to abstain
+from arguing with the men the question of Bathurst being given the cold
+shoulder, Dr. Wade had already organized the ladies in his favor. During
+the afternoon he had told them the tiger story, and had confidentially
+informed them how it was that Bathurst from his birth had been
+the victim of something like nervous paralysis at all loud sounds,
+especially those of the discharge of firearms.
+
+“His conduct today,” he said, “and his courage in rescuing that native
+girl from the tiger, illustrate his character. He is cool, brave, and
+determined, as might be expected from a man of so well balanced a mind
+as his; and even when his nerves utterly broke down under the din of
+musketry, his will was so far dominant that he forced himself to
+go forward and stand there under fire, an act which was, under the
+circumstances, simply heroic.”
+
+There is little difficulty in persuading women as to the merits of a man
+they like, and Bathurst had, since the troubles began, been much more
+appreciated than before by the ladies of Deennugghur. They had felt
+there was something strengthening and cheering in his presence, for
+while not attempting to minimize the danger, there was a calm confidence
+in his manner that comforted and reassured those he talked to.
+
+In the last twenty-four hours, too, he had unobtrusively performed many
+little kindnesses; had aided in the removals, carried the children,
+looked after the servants, and had been foremost in the arrangement of
+everything that could add to the comfort of the ladies.
+
+“I am glad you have told us all about it, Doctor,” Mrs. Doolan said;
+“and, of course, no one would dream of blaming him. I had heard that
+story about his leaving the army years ago; but although I had only seen
+him once or twice, I did not believe it for a minute. What you tell us
+now, Doctor, explains the whole matter. I pity him sincerely. It must be
+something awful for a man at a time like this not to be able to take his
+part in the defense, especially when there are us women here. Why, it
+would pain me less to see Jim brought in dead, than for him to show the
+white feather. What can we do for the poor fellow?”
+
+“Treat him just as usual. There is nothing else you can do, Mrs. Doolan.
+Any tone of sympathy, still less of pity, would be the worst thing
+possible. He is in the lowest depths at present; but if he finds by your
+tone and manner that you regard him on the same footing as before, he
+will gradually come round, and I hope that before the end of the siege
+he will have opportunities of retrieving himself. Not under fire--that
+is hopeless; but in other ways.”
+
+“You may be sure we will do all we can, Doctor,” Mrs. Doolan said
+warmly; “and there are plenty of ways he will be able to make himself
+most useful. There is somebody wanted to look after all those syces and
+servants, and it would be a comfort to us to have someone to talk to
+occasionally; besides, all the children are fond of him.”
+
+This sentiment was warmly echoed; and thus, when the determination
+at which the men had arrived to cut Bathurst became known, there was
+something like a feminine revolution.
+
+“You may do as you like,” Mrs. Doolan said indignantly; “but if you
+think that we are going to do anything so cruel and unjust, you are
+entirely mistaken, I can tell you.”
+
+Mrs. Rintoul was equally emphatic, and Mrs. Hunter quietly, but with
+as much decision, protested. “I have always regarded Mr. Bathurst as a
+friend,” she said, “and I shall continue to do so. It is very sad for
+him that he cannot take part in the defense, but it is no more fair
+to blame him than it would be to blame us, because we, too, are
+noncombatants.”
+
+Isobel Hannay had taken no part in the first discussion among the
+ladies, nor did she say anything now.
+
+“It is cruel and unjust,” she said to herself, “but they only think as
+I did. I was more cruel and unjust than they, for there was no talk
+of danger then. I expressed my contempt of him because there was a
+suspicion that he had showed cowardice ten years ago, while they have
+seen it shown now when there is fearful peril. If they are cruel and
+unjust, what was I?”
+
+Later on the men gathered together at one end of the room, and talked
+over the situation.
+
+“Dr. Wade,” the Major said quietly, “I shall be obliged if you will go
+and ask Mr. Bathurst to join us. He knows the people round here better
+than any of us, and his opinion will be valuable.”
+
+The Doctor, who had several times been in to see Bathurst, went to his
+room.
+
+“The Major wants you to join us, Bathurst; we are having a talk over
+things, and he wishes to have your opinion. I had better tell you that
+as to yourself the camp is divided into two parties. On one side are the
+Major, Wilson, and myself, and all the ladies, who take, I need not say,
+a common sense view of the matter, and recognize that you have done all
+a man could do to overcome your constitutional nervousness, and that
+there is no discredit whatever attached to you personally. The rest of
+the men, I am sorry to say, at present take another view of the case,
+and are disposed to show you the cold shoulder.”
+
+“That, of course,” Bathurst said quietly; “as to the ladies’ view of it,
+I know that it is only the result of your good offices, Doctor.”
+
+“Then you will come,” the Doctor said, pleased that Bathurst seemed less
+depressed than he had expected.
+
+“Certainly I will come, Doctor,” Bathurst said, rising; “the worst
+is over now--everyone knows that I am a coward--that is what I have
+dreaded. There is nothing else for me to be afraid of, and it is of no
+use hiding myself.”
+
+“We look quite at home here, Mr. Bathurst, don’t we?” Mrs. Doolan said
+cheerfully, as he passed her; “and I think we all feel a great deal more
+comfortable than we did when you gave us your warning last night; the
+anticipation is always worse than the reality.”
+
+“Not always, I think, Mrs. Doolan,” he said quietly; “but you have
+certainly made yourselves wonderfully at home, though your sewing is of
+a more practical kind than that upon which you are ordinarily engaged.”
+
+Then he passed on with the Doctor to the other end of the room. The
+Major nodded as he came up.
+
+“All right again now, Bathurst, I hope? We want your opinion, for you
+know, I think, more of the Zemindars in this part of the country than
+any of us. Of course, the question is, will they take part against us?”
+
+“I am afraid they will, Major. I had hoped otherwise; but if it be
+true that the Nana has gone--and as the other part of the message was
+correct, I have no doubt this is so also--I am afraid they will be
+carried away with the stream.”
+
+“And you think they have guns?”
+
+“I have not the least doubt of it; the number given up was a mere
+fraction of those they were said to have possessed.”
+
+“I had hoped the troops would have marched away after the lesson we gave
+them this morning, but, so far as we can make out, there is no sign of
+movement in their lines. However, they may start at daybreak tomorrow.”
+
+“I will go out to see if you like, Major,” Bathurst said quietly. “I
+can get native clothes from the servants, and I speak the language well
+enough to pass as a native; so if you give me permission I will go out
+to the lines and learn what their intentions are.”
+
+“It would be a very dangerous undertaking,” the Major said gravely.
+
+“I have no fear whatever of danger of that kind, Major; my nerves are
+steady enough, except when there is a noise of firearms, and then, as
+you all saw this morning, I cannot control them, do what I will. Risks
+of any other kind I am quite prepared to undertake, but in this matter
+I think the danger is very slight, the only difficulty being to get
+through the line of sentries they have no doubt posted round the house.
+Once past them, I think there is practically no risk whatever of their
+recognizing me when made up as a native. The Doctor has, no doubt, got
+some iodine in his surgery, and a coat of that will bring me to the
+right color.”
+
+“Well, if you are ready to undertake it, I will not refuse,” the Major
+said. “How would you propose to get out?”
+
+“I noticed yesterday that the branches of one of the trees in the garden
+extended beyond the top of the wall. I will climb up that and lower
+myself on the other side by a rope; that is a very simple matter. The
+spot is close to the edge of Mr. Hunter’s compound, and I shall work my
+way through the shrubbery till I feel sure I am beyond any sentries
+who may be posted there; the chances are that they will not be thick
+anywhere, except opposite the gate. By the way, Captain Forster, before
+I go I must thank you for having risked your life to save mine this
+morning. I heard from Mrs. Hunter that it was you and the Doctor who
+rushed forward and drew me back.”
+
+“It is not worth talking about,” Captain Forster said carelessly. “You
+seemed bent on making a target of yourself; and as the Major’s orders
+were that everyone was to lie down, there was nothing for it but to
+remove you.”
+
+Bathurst turned to Dr. Wade. “Will you superintend my get up, Doctor?”
+
+“Certainly,” the Doctor said, with alacrity. “I will guarantee that,
+with the aid of my boy, I will turn you out so that no one would know
+you even in broad daylight, to say nothing of the dark.”
+
+A quarter of an hour sufficed to metamorphose Bathurst into an Oude
+peasant. He did not return to the room, but, accompanied by the Doctor,
+made his way to the tree he had spoken of.
+
+“By the way, you have taken no arms,” the Doctor said suddenly.
+
+“They would be useless, Doctor; if I am recognized I shall be killed; if
+I am not discovered, and the chances are very slight of my being so, I
+shall get back safely. By the way, we will tie some knots on that rope
+before I let myself down. I used to be able to climb a rope without
+them, but I doubt whether I could do so now.”
+
+“Well, God bless you, lad, and bring you back safely! You may make as
+light of it as you will, but it is a dangerous expedition. However, I
+am glad you have undertaken it, come what may, for it has given you the
+opportunity of showing you are not afraid of danger when it takes any
+other form than that of firearms. There are plenty of men who would
+stand up bravely enough in a fight, who would not like to undertake
+this task of going out alone in the dark into the middle of these
+bloodthirsty scoundrels. How long do you think you will be?”
+
+“A couple of hours at the outside.”
+
+“Well, at the end of an hour I shall be back here again. Don’t be longer
+than you can help, lad, for I shall be very anxious until you return.”
+
+When the Doctor re-entered the house there was a chorus of questions:
+
+“Has Mr. Bathurst started?”
+
+“Why did you not bring him in here before he left? We should all have
+liked to have said goodby to him.”
+
+“Yes, he has gone. I have seen him over the wall; and it was much better
+that he should go without any fuss. He went off just as quietly and
+unconcernedly as if he had been going out for an ordinary evening’s
+walk. Now I am going up onto the roof. I don’t say we should hear any
+hubbub down at the lines if he were discovered there, but we should
+certainly hear a shout if he came across any of the sentries round the
+house.”
+
+“Has he taken any arms, Doctor?” the Major asked.
+
+“None whatever, Major. I asked him if he would not take pistols, but he
+refused.”
+
+“Well, I don’t understand that,” Captain Forster remarked. “If I had
+gone on such a business I would have taken a couple of revolvers. I am
+quite ready to take my chance of being killed fighting, but I should not
+like to be seized and hacked to pieces in cold blood. My theory is a man
+should sell his life as dearly as he can.”
+
+“That is the animal instinct, Forster,” the Doctor said sharply; “though
+I don’t say that I should not feel the same myself; but I question
+whether Bathurst’s is not a higher type of courage.”
+
+“Well, I don’t aspire to Bathurst’s type of courage, Doctor,” Forster
+said, with a short laugh.
+
+But the Doctor did not answer. He had already turned away, and was
+making for the stairs.
+
+“May I go with you, Doctor?” Isobel Hannay said, following him. “It is
+very hot down here.”
+
+“Yes; come along, child; but there is no time to lose, for Bathurst
+must be near where they are likely to have posted their sentries by this
+time.”
+
+“Everything quiet, Wilson?” he asked the young subaltern, who, with
+another, was on guard on the roof.
+
+“Yes; we have heard nothing except a few distant shouts and noises out
+at the lines. Round here there has been nothing moving, except that we
+heard someone go out into the garden just now.”
+
+“I went out with Bathurst,” the Doctor said. “He has gone in the
+disguise of a native to the Sepoy lines, to find out what are their
+intentions.”
+
+“I heard the talk over it, Doctor. I only came up on watch a few minutes
+since. I thought it was most likely him when I heard the steps.”
+
+“I hope he is beyond the sentries,” the Doctor said. “I have come up
+here to listen.”
+
+“I expect he is through them before this,” Wilson said confidently. “I
+wish I could have gone with him; but of course it would not have been
+any good. It is a beautiful night--isn’t it, Miss Hannay?--and there is
+scarcely any dew falling.”
+
+“Now, you go off to your post in the corner, Wilson. Your instructions
+are to listen for the slightest sound, and to assure us against the
+Sepoys creeping up to the walls. We did not come up here to distract you
+from your duties, or to gossip.”
+
+“There are Richards and another posted somewhere in the garden,” Wilson
+said. “Still, I suppose you are right, Doctor; but if you, Miss Hannay,
+have come up to listen, come and sit in my corner; it is the one nearest
+to the lines.”
+
+“You may as well go and sit down, Isobel,” the Doctor said; “that is,
+if you intend to stay up here long;” and they went across with Wilson to
+his post.
+
+“Shall I put one of these sandbags for you to sit on?”
+
+“I would rather stand, thank you;” and they stood for some time silently
+watching the fires in the lines.
+
+“They are drawing pretty heavily on the wood stores,” the Doctor
+growled; “there is a good deal more than the regulation allowance
+blazing in those fires. I can make out a lot of figures moving about
+round them; no doubt numbers of the peasants have come in.”
+
+“Do you think Mr. Bathurst has got beyond the line of sentries?” Isobel
+said, after standing perfectly quiet for some time.
+
+“Oh, yes, a long way; probably he was through by the time we came up
+here. They are not likely to post them more than fifty or sixty yards
+from the wall; and, indeed, it is, as Bathurst pointed out to me,
+probable that they are only thick near the gate. All they want to do is
+to prevent us slipping away. I should think that Bathurst must be out
+near the lines by this time.”
+
+Isobel moved a few paces away from the others, and again stood
+listening.
+
+“I suppose you do not think that there is any chance of an attack
+tonight, Doctor?” Wilson asked, in low tones.
+
+“Not in the least; the natives are not fond of night work. I expect they
+are dividing the spoil and quarreling over it; anyhow, they have had
+enough of it for today. They may intend to march away in the morning, or
+they may have sent to Cawnpore to ask for orders, or they may have heard
+from some of the Zemindars that they are coming in to join them--that is
+what Bathurst has gone out to learn; but anyhow I do not think they will
+attack us again with their present force.”
+
+“I wish there were a few more of us,” Wilson said, “so that we could
+venture on a sortie.”
+
+“So do I, lad; but it is no use thinking about it as it is. We have to
+wait; our fate is not in our own hands.”
+
+“And you think matters look bad, Doctor?”
+
+“I think they could hardly look worse. Unless the mutineers take it into
+their heads to march away, there is, humanly speaking, but one chance
+for us, and that is that Lawrence may thrash the Sepoys so completely
+at Lucknow that he may be able to send out a force to bring us in. The
+chances of that are next to nothing; for in addition to a very large
+Sepoy force he has the population of Lucknow--one of the most turbulent
+in India--on his hands. Ah, what is that?”
+
+Two musket shots in quick succession from the Sepoy lines broke the
+silence of the evening, and a startled exclamation burst from the girl
+standing near them.
+
+The Doctor went over to her.
+
+“Do you think--do you think,” she said in a low, strained voice, “that
+it was Bathurst?”
+
+“Not at all. If they detected him, and I really do not see that there is
+a chance of their doing so, disguised as he was, they would have seized
+him and probably killed him, but there would be no firing. He has gone
+unarmed, you know, and would offer no resistance. Those shots you heard
+were doubtless the result of some drunken quarrel over the loot.”
+
+“Do you really think so, Doctor?”
+
+“I feel quite sure of it. If it had been Forster who had gone out, and
+he had been detected, it would have been natural enough that we should
+hear the sound of something like a battle. In the first place, he would
+have defended himself desperately, and, in the next, he might have made
+his way through them and escaped; but, as I said, with Bathurst there
+would be no occasion for their firing.”
+
+“Why didn’t he come in to say goodby before he went? that is what I
+wanted to ask you, Doctor, and why I came up here. I wanted to have
+spoken to him, if only for a moment, before he started. I tried to catch
+his eye as he went out of the room with you, but he did not even look at
+me. It will be so hard if he never comes back, to know that he went away
+without my having spoken to him again. I did try this morning to tell
+him that I was sorry for what I said, but he would not listen to me.”
+
+“You will have an opportunity of telling him when he comes back, if you
+want to, or of showing him so by your manner, which would be, perhaps,
+less painful to both of you.”
+
+“I don’t care about pain to myself,” the girl said. “I have been unjust,
+and deserve it.”
+
+“I don’t think he considers you unjust. I did, and told you so. He feels
+what he considers the disgrace so much that it seems to him perfectly
+natural he should be despised.”
+
+“Yes, but I want him to see that he is not despised,” she said quickly.
+“You don’t understand, Doctor.”
+
+“I do understand perfectly, my dear; at least, I think--I think I do; I
+see that you want to put yourself straight with him, which is very right
+and proper, especially placed as we all are; but I would not do or say
+anything hastily. You have spoken hastily once, you see, and made a mess
+of it. I should be careful how I did it again, unless, of course,” and
+he stopped.
+
+“Unless what, Doctor?” Isobel asked shyly, after a long pause. But there
+was no reply; and looking round she saw that her companion had moved
+quietly away and had joined Wilson at his post. She stood for a
+few minutes in the same attitude, and then moved quietly across the
+staircase in the center of the terrace, and went down to the party
+below. A short time later the Doctor followed her, and, taking his
+rifle, went out into the garden with Captain Doolan, who assisted him in
+climbing the tree, and handed his gun up to him. The Doctor made his
+way out on the branch to the spot where it extended beyond the wall, and
+there sat, straining his eyes into the darkness. Half an hour passed,
+and then he heard a light footfall on the sandy soil.
+
+“Is that you, Bathurst?” he whispered.
+
+“All right, Doctor;” and a minute later Bathurst sat on the branch
+beside him.
+
+“Well, what’s your news?”
+
+“Very bad, Doctor; they expect the Rajah Por Sing, who, it seems, is the
+leader of the party in this district, and several other Zemindars, to be
+here with guns tomorrow or next day. The news from Cawnpore was true..
+The native troops mutinied and marched away, but were joined by Nana
+Sahib and his force, and he persuaded them to return and attack the
+whites in their intrenchments at Cawnpore, as they would not be well
+received at Delhi unless they had properly accomplished their share of
+the work of rooting out the Feringhees.”
+
+“The infernal scoundrel!” the Doctor exclaimed; “after pretending for
+years to be our best friend. I’m disgusted to think that I have drunk
+his champagne a dozen times. However, that makes little difference to us
+now, your other news is the most important. We could have resisted
+the Sepoys for a month; but if they bring up guns there can be but one
+ending to it.”
+
+“That is so, Doctor. The only hope I can see is that they may find our
+resistance so obstinate as to be glad to grant us terms of surrender.”
+
+“Yes, there is that chance,” the Doctor agreed; “but history shows there
+is but little reliance to be placed upon native oaths.”
+
+Bathurst was silent; his own experience of the natives had taught him
+the same lesson.
+
+“It is a poor hope,” he said, after a while; “but it is the only one, so
+far as I can see.”
+
+Not another word was spoken as they descended the tree and walked across
+to the house.
+
+“Never mind about changing your things, come straight in.”
+
+“Our scout has returned,” the Doctor said, as he entered the room. There
+was a general exclamation of gladness on the part of the ladies who had
+not retired.
+
+“I am very glad to see you safe back, Mr. Bathurst,” Mrs. Hunter said,
+going up to him and taking his hand. “We have all been very anxious
+since you left.”
+
+“The danger was very slight, Mrs. Hunter. I only wish I had brought you
+back the news that the native lines were deserted and the mutineers in
+full march for Delhi and Lucknow.”
+
+“I was afraid you would hardly bring that news, Mr. Bathurst; it was
+almost too good to hope for. However, we are all glad that you are back.
+Are we not, Isobel?”
+
+“We are indeed, Mr. Bathurst, though as yet I can hardly persuade myself
+that it is you in that get up.”
+
+“I think there is no doubt of my identity. Can you tell me where you
+uncle is, Miss Hannay? I have to make my report to him.”
+
+“He is on the roof. There is a sort of general gathering of our
+defenders there.”
+
+Two lamps had been placed in the center of the terrace, and round these
+the little garrison were grouped, some sitting on boxes, others lying on
+mats, almost all smoking. Bathurst was greeted heartily by the Major and
+Wilson as soon as he was recognized.
+
+“I am awfully glad to see you back,” Wilson said, shaking him warmly by
+the hand. “I wish I could have gone with you. Two together does not seem
+so bad, but I should not like to start out by myself as you did.”
+
+There was a hearty cordiality in the young fellow’s voice that was very
+pleasant to Bathurst.
+
+“We have all our gifts, as Hawkeye used to say, as I have no doubt you
+remember, Wilson. Such gifts as I have lay in the way of solitary work,
+I fancy.”
+
+“Now, light a cheroot, Bathurst,” the Major said, “and drink off this
+tumbler of brandy and soda, and then let us hear your story.”
+
+“The story is simple enough, Major. I got through without difficulty.
+The sentries are some distance apart round the garden wall. As soon as I
+discovered by the sound of their footsteps where they were, it was easy
+enough to get through them. Then I made a longish detour, and came down
+on the lines from the other side. There was no occasion for concealment
+then. Numbers of the country people had come in, and were gathered round
+the Sepoys’ fires, and I was able to move about amongst them, and listen
+to the conversation without the smallest hindrance.
+
+“The Sepoys were loudly expressing their dissatisfaction at their
+officers leading them against the house today, when they had no means
+of either battering down the walls or scaling them. Then there was a
+general opinion that treachery was at work; for how else should the
+Europeans have known they were going to rise that morning, and so moved
+during the night into the house? There was much angry recrimination
+and quarreling, and many expressed their regret they had not marched
+straight to Cawnpore after burning the bungalows.
+
+“All this was satisfactory; but I learned that Por Sing and several
+other Zemindars had already sent in assurances that they were wholly
+with them, and would be here, with guns to batter down the walls, some
+time tomorrow.”
+
+“That is bad news, indeed,” the Major said gravely, when he had
+finished. “Of course, when we heard that Nana Sahib had thrown in his
+lot with the mutineers, it was probable that many of the landowners
+would go the same way; but if the Sepoys had marched off they might not
+have attacked us on their own account. Now we know that the Sepoys are
+going to stay, and that they will have guns, it alters our position
+altogether.”
+
+There was a murmur of assent.
+
+“I should tell you before you talk the matter over further,” Bathurst
+went on, “that during the last hour some hundreds of peasants have taken
+up their posts round the house in addition to the Sepoy sentries. I came
+back with one party about a hundred strong. They are posted a couple of
+hundred yards or so in front of the gate. I slipped away from them in
+the dark and made my way here.”
+
+“Well, gentlemen, what do you think we had better do?” the Major said;
+“we are all in the same boat, and I should like to have your opinions.
+We may defend this house successfully for days--possibly we may even
+tire them out--but on the other hand they may prove too strong for
+us. If the wall were breached we could hardly hope to defend it, and,
+indeed, if they constructed plenty of ladders they could scale it at
+night in a score of places. We must, therefore, regard the house as our
+citadel, close up the lower windows and doors with sandbags, and defend
+it to the last. Still, if they are determined, the lookout is not a very
+bright one.”
+
+“I am in favor of our cutting our way out, Major,” Captain Forster
+said; “if we are cooped up here, we must, as you say, in the long run be
+beaten.”
+
+“That would be all very well, Captain Forster, if we were all men,”
+ Mr. Hunter said. “There are sixteen of us and there are in all eighteen
+horses, for I and Farquharson have two each; but there are eight women
+and fourteen children; so all the horses would have to carry double. We
+certainly could not hope to escape from them with our horses so laden;
+and if they came up with us, what fighting could we do with women behind
+our saddles? Moreover, we certainly could not leave the servants, who
+have been true to us, to the mercy of the Sepoys.”
+
+“Besides, where could we go?” the Doctor asked. “The garrison at
+Cawnpore, we know, are besieged by overwhelming numbers. We do not know
+much as to the position at Lucknow, but certainly the Europeans are
+immensely outnumbered there, and I think we may assume that they
+are also besieged. It is a very long distance either to Agra or to
+Allahabad; and with the whole country up in arms against us, and the
+cavalry here at our heels, the prospect seems absolutely hopeless. What
+do you think, Doolan? You and Rintoul have your wives here, and you have
+children. I consider that the question concerns you married men more
+than us.”
+
+“It is a case of the frying pan and the fire, as far as I can see,
+Doctor. At any rate, here we have got walls to light behind, and food
+for weeks, and plenty of ammunition. I am for selling our lives as
+dearly as we can here rather than go outside to be chased like jackals.”
+
+“I agree with you, Doolan,” Captain Rintoul said. “Here we may be able
+to make terms with them, but once outside the walls we should be at the
+scoundrels’ mercy. If it were not for the women and children I should
+agree entirely with Forster that our best plan would be to throw open
+our gates and make a dash for it, keeping together as long as we could,
+and then, if necessary, separating and trying to make our way down to
+Agra or Allahabad as best we could; but with ladies that does not seem
+to be possible.”
+
+The opinion of the married civilians was entirely in accord with that of
+Mr. Hunter.
+
+“But what hope is there of defending this place in the long run?”
+ Captain Forster said. “If I saw any chance at all I should be quite
+willing to wait; but I would infinitely rather sally out at once and
+go for them and be killed than wait here day after day and perhaps week
+after week, seeing one’s fate drawing nearer inch by inch. What do you
+say, Bathurst? We haven’t had your opinion yet.”
+
+“I do not think that the defense is so hopeless as you suppose, although
+I admit that the chances are greatly against us,” Bathurst said quietly.
+“I think there is a hope of tiring the natives out. The Sepoys know well
+enough there can be no great amount of loot here, while they think that
+were they at Cawnpore, at Lucknow, or still more at Delhi, their chances
+of plunder would be much greater. Moreover, I think that men in their
+position, having offended, as it were, without hope of pardon, would
+naturally desire to flock together. There is comfort and encouragement
+in numbers. Therefore, I am sure they will very speedily become
+impatient if they do not meet with success, and would be inclined to
+grant terms rather than waste time here.
+
+“It is the same thing with the native gentry. They will want to be off
+to Lucknow or Delhi, where they will know more how things are going,
+and where, no doubt, they reckon upon obtaining posts of importance and
+increased possessions under the new order of things. Therefore, I think,
+they, as well as the Sepoys, are likely, if they find the task longer
+and more difficult than they expect, to be ready to grant terms. I have
+no great faith in native oaths. Still they might be kept.
+
+“Captain Forster’s proposal I regard as altogether impracticable. We are
+something like two hundred and fifty miles from the nearest British post
+where we could hope to find refuge, and with the horses carrying double,
+the troopers at our heels directly we start, and the country hostile,
+I see no chance whatever, not a vestige of one, of our getting safely
+away.
+
+“But there is a third alternative by which some might escape; it is,
+that we should make our way out on foot, break up into parties of twos
+and threes; steal or fight our way through the sentries, and then for
+each party to shift for itself, making its way as best it can, traveling
+by night and lying up in woods or plantations by day; getting food at
+times from friendly natives, and subsisting, for the most part, upon
+what might be gathered in the fields. In that way some might escape,
+but the suffering and hardships of the women and children would be
+terrible.”
+
+“I agree with you,” Mr. Hunter said; “such a journey would be frightful
+to contemplate, and I don’t think, in our case, that my wife could
+possibly perform such a journey; still, some might do so. At any rate, I
+think the chances are better than they would be were we to ride out in
+a body. I should suggest, Major, when the crisis seems to be
+approaching--that is, when it is clear that we can’t defend ourselves
+much longer--it would be fair that each should be at liberty to try to
+get out and make down the country.”
+
+“Certainly,” the Major agreed; “we are in a position of men on board a
+sinking ship with the boats gone; we should try to the end to save the
+ship, but when all hope of doing that is over, each may try to get to
+shore as he best can. As long as the house can be defended, all must
+remain and bear their share in the struggle, but when we decide that it
+is but a question of hours, all who choose will be at liberty to try to
+escape.”
+
+“It will be vastly more difficult then than now,” Captain Forster said;
+“Bathurst made his way out tonight without difficulty, but they will
+be a great deal more vigilant when they know we cannot hold out much
+longer. I don’t see how it would be possible for women and children to
+get through them.”
+
+“We might then adopt your scheme, to a certain extent, Forster,” Major
+Hannay said. “We could mount, sally out suddenly, break through their
+pickets, and as soon as we are beyond them scatter; those who like can
+try to make their way down on horseback, those who prefer it try to do
+so on foot. That would at least give us an alternative should the siege
+be pushed on to the last, and we find ourselves unable to make terms.”
+
+There was general assent to the Major’s proposal, which seemed to offer
+better chances than any. There was the hope that the mutineers might
+tire of the siege and march away; that if they pressed it, terms might
+be at last obtained from them, and that, failing everything else, the
+garrison might yet make their way down country.
+
+“As there is evidently no chance of an attack during the night,” the
+Major said, “we will divide into two watches and relieve each other
+every four hours; that will give two as lookouts on the roof and six
+in the inclosure. As you are senior officer next to myself, Doolan, you
+will take charge of one watch; I shall myself take charge of the other.
+Forster and Wilson be with me, Rintoul and Richards with you. Mr. Hardy,
+will you and the other gentlemen divide your numbers into two watches?
+Dr. Wade counts as a combatant until his hospital begins to fill.”
+
+“I fancy he may be counted as a combatant all through,” the Doctor
+muttered.
+
+“Tomorrow morning,” the Major went on, “we will continue the work of
+filling sandbags. There are still a large number of empty bags on hand.
+We shall want them for all the lower windows and doors, and the
+more there are of them the better; and we must also keep a supply in
+readiness to make a retrenchment if they should breach the wall. Now,
+Mr. Hunter, as soon as you have made out your list my watch can go on
+duty, and I should advise the others to turn in without delay.”
+
+When the ladies were informed that half the men were going on watch,
+Mrs. Doolan said, “I have an amendment to propose, Major. Women’s ears
+are just as keen as men’s, and I propose that we supply the sentries on
+the roof. I will volunteer for one.”
+
+The whole of the ladies at once volunteered.
+
+“There is no occasion for so many,” Mrs. Doolan said; “and I propose
+that tonight, at any rate, I should take the first watch with one of the
+Miss Hunters, and that Miss Hannay and the other should take the
+second. That will leave all the gentlemen available for the watch in the
+inclosure.”
+
+The proposal was agreed to, and in a short time the first watch had
+taken their station, and the rest of the garrison lay down to rest.
+
+The night passed off quietly. The first work at which the Major set the
+garrison in the morning was to form six wooden stages against the wall.
+One by the gate, one against the wall at the other end, and two at each
+of the long sides of the inclosure. They were twelve feet in height,
+which enabled those upon them to stand head and shoulders above the
+level of the wall.
+
+When these were completed the whole of the garrison, including the
+ladies and native servants, again set to work filling sandbags with
+earth. As fast as they were finished they were carried in and piled two
+deep against the lower windows, and three deep against the doors, only
+one small door being left undefended, so as to allow a passage in and
+out of the house. Bags were piled in readiness for closing this also in
+case of necessity.
+
+Mrs. Rintoul and another lady had volunteered for a third watch on the
+roof, so that each watch would go on duty once every twelve hours. The
+whole of the men, therefore, were available for work below.
+
+A scattered fire was opened at the house soon after daybreak, and
+was kept up without intermission from bushes and other cover; but the
+watchers on the roof, seated behind the sandbags at opposite angles,
+were well under shelter, peering out occasionally through the crevices
+between the bags to see that no general movement was taking place among
+the enemy.
+
+About midday there was a desultory discharge of firearms from the native
+lines; and the Major, on ascending to the roof, saw a procession of
+elephants and men approaching the camp.
+
+“I expect there are guns there,” he muttered, “and they are going to
+begin in earnest. Ladies, you are relieved of duty at present. I expect
+we shall be hearing from those fellows soon, and we must have someone up
+here who can talk back to them.”
+
+Accordingly the Doctor and Mr. Farquharson, who was the best shot among
+the civilians, took the places of the ladies on the roof. Half an hour
+later the Major went up again.
+
+“They have four cannon,” the Doctor said. “There they are, on that
+slight rise to the left of the lines. I should fancy they are about
+eight hundred yards away. Do you see, there is a crowd gathering behind
+them? Our rifles will carry that distance easily enough, I think. You
+might as well let us have three or four more up here.. The two lads are
+both fair shots, and Hunter was considered a good shikari some years
+ago. We can drive their cannon off that rise; the farther we make them
+take up their post the better, but even at that distance their shooting
+will be wild. The guns are no doubt old ones, and, as likely as not, the
+shot won’t fit. At any rate, though they may trouble us, they will do no
+serious harm till they establish a battery at pretty close quarters.”
+
+The Major went down, and the two subalterns and Mr. Hunter joined the
+Doctor on the roof.
+
+Ten minutes later the boom of four guns in quick succession was heard,
+and the party below stopped for a moment at their work as they heard the
+sound of shot rushing through the air overhead; then came five shots in
+answer from the parapet. Again and again the rifles spoke out, and then
+the Doctor shouted down to those in the courtyard, “They have had enough
+of it already, and are bringing up the elephants to move the cannon
+back. Now, boys,” he said to the subalterns, “an elephant is an easier
+mark than a tiger; aim carefully, and blaze away as quickly as you
+like.”
+
+For five minutes a rapid fire was kept up; then Wilson went below.
+
+“The Doctor asked me to tell you, sir,” he said to the Major, “that
+the guns have been removed. There has been great confusion among the
+natives, and we can see with our glasses eight or ten bodies left on the
+ground. One of the elephants turned and went off at full speed among the
+crowd, and we fancy some of the others were hit. There was great trouble
+in getting them to come up to the guns. The Doctor says it is all over
+for the present.”
+
+Two other large parties with elephants were seen to come up to the
+native lines in the course of the afternoon. The defenders of the roof
+had now turned their attention to their foes in the gardens around, and
+the fire thence was gradually suppressed, until by evening everything
+was quiet.
+
+By this time the work of filling the sandbags was completed; the doors
+and windows had been barricaded, and a large pile of bags lay in the
+inclosure ready for erection at any threatened point.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+When the party met at dinner they were for a time somewhat silent, for
+all were exhausted by their hard work under a blazing sun, but their
+spirits rose under their surroundings.
+
+The native servants had laid the table with as scrupulous care as
+usual; and, except that there was no display of flowers, no change was
+observable.
+
+All had dressed after the work was over, and the men were in white
+drill, and the ladies had, from custom, put on light evening gowns.
+
+The cook had prepared an excellent dinner, and as the champagne went
+round no stranger would have supposed that the party had met under
+unusual circumstances. The Doctor and the two subalterns were
+unaffectedly gay, and as the rest all made an effort to be cheerful, the
+languor that had marked the commencement of the dinner soon wore off.
+
+“Wilson and Richards are becoming quite sportsmen,” the Doctor said.
+“They have tried their hands at tigers but could hardly have expected
+to take part in elephant shooting. They can’t quite settle between
+themselves as to which it was who sent the Rajah’s elephant flying among
+the crowd. Both declare they aimed at that special beast. So, as there
+is no deciding the point, we must consider the honor as divided.”
+
+“It was rather hard on us,” Isobel said, “to be kept working below
+instead of being up there seeing what was going on. But I consider we
+quite did our full share towards the defense today. My hands are quite
+sore with sewing up the mouths of those rough bags. I think the chief
+honors that way lie with Mrs. Rintoul. I am sure she sewed more
+bags than any of us. I had no idea that you were such a worker, Mrs.
+Rintoul.”
+
+“I used to be a quick worker, Miss Hannay, till lately. I have not
+touched a needle since I came out to India.”
+
+“I should recommend you to keep it up. Mrs. Rintoul,” the Doctor said.
+“It has done you more good than all my medicines. I don’t believe I have
+prescribed for you for the last month, and I haven’t seen you looking so
+well since you came out.”
+
+“I suppose I have not had time to feel ill, Doctor,” Mrs. Rintoul said,
+with a slight smile; “all this has been a sort of tonic.”
+
+“And a very useful one, Mrs. Rintoul. We are all of us the better for a
+little stirring up sometimes.”
+
+Captain Forster had, as usual, secured a place next to Isobel Hannay. He
+had been near her all day, carrying the bags as he filled them to her to
+sew up. Bathurst was sitting at the other end of the table, joining but
+little in the conversation.
+
+“I thought Bathurst was going to faint again when the firing began, Miss
+Hannay,” Captain Forster said, in a low voice. “It was quite funny to
+see him give a little start each shot that was fired, and his face was
+as white as my jacket. I never saw such a nervous fellow.”
+
+“You know he cannot help it, Captain Forster,” Isobel said indignantly.
+“I don’t think it is right to make fun of him for what is a great
+misfortune.”
+
+“I am not making fun of him, Miss Hannay. I am pitying him.”
+
+“It did not sound like it,” Isobel said. “I don’t think you can
+understand it, Captain Forster; it must be terrible to be like that.”
+
+“I quite agree with you there. I know I should drown myself or put a
+bullet through my head if I could not show ordinary courage with a lot
+of ladies going on working quietly round me.”
+
+“You must remember that Mr. Bathurst showed plenty of courage in going
+out among the mutineers last night.”
+
+“Yes, he did that very well; but you see, he talks the language so
+thoroughly that, as he said himself, there was very little risk in it.”
+
+“I don’t like you to talk so, Captain Forster,” Isobel said quietly. “I
+do not see much of Mr. Bathurst. I have not spoken to him half a dozen
+times in the last month; but both my uncle and Dr. Wade have a high
+opinion of him, and do not consider that he should be personally blamed
+for being nervous under fire. I feel very sorry for him, and would much
+rather that you did not make remarks like that about him. We have all
+our weak points, and, no doubt, many of them are a good deal worse than
+a mere want of nerve.”
+
+“Your commands shall be obeyed, Miss Hannay. I did not know that
+Bathurst was a protege of the Major’s as well as of the estimable
+Doctor, or I would have said nothing against him.”
+
+“I don’t think Mr. Bathurst is the sort of man to be anyone’s protege,
+Captain Forster,” Isobel said coldly. “However, I think we had better
+change the subject.”
+
+This Captain Forster did easily and adroitly. He had no special feeling
+against Bathurst save a contempt for his weakness; and as he had met him
+but once or twice at the Major’s since he came to the station, he had
+not thought of him in the light of a rival.
+
+Just as dinner was over Richards and one of the civilians came down from
+the terrace.
+
+“I think that there is something up, Major. I can hear noises somewhere
+near where Mr. Hunter’s bungalow was.”
+
+“What sort of noises, Richards?”
+
+“There is a sort of murmur, as if there were a good many men there.”
+
+“Well, gentlemen, we had better go to our posts,” the Major said.
+“Doolan, please place your watch on the platforms by the wall. I will
+take my party up onto the terrace. Doctor, will you bring up some of
+those rockets you made the other day? We must try and find out what they
+are doing.”
+
+As soon as he gained the terrace with his party, the Major requested
+everyone to remain perfectly still, and going forward to the parapet
+listened intently. In three or four minutes he returned to the others.
+
+“There is a considerable body of men at work there,” he said. “I can
+hear muffled sounds like digging, and once or twice a sharp click, as
+if a spade struck a stone. I am very much afraid they are throwing up a
+battery there. I was in hopes they would have begun in the open, because
+we could have commanded the approaches; but if they begin among the
+trees, they can come in and out without our seeing them, and bring up
+their guns by the road without our being able to interfere with them.
+Mr. Bathurst, will you take down word to Captain Doolan to put his men
+on the platforms on that side. Tell him that I am going to throw up a
+rocket, as I believe they are erecting a battery near Hunter’s bungalow,
+and that his men are to be ready to give them a volley if they can
+make them out. Tell them not to expose themselves too much; for if they
+really are at work there no doubt they have numbers of men posted in the
+shrubs all about to keep down our fire. Now, gentlemen, we will all lie
+down by the parapet. Take those spare rifles, and fire as quickly as you
+can while the light of the rocket lasts. Now, Mr. Wilson, we will get
+you to send them up. The rest of you had better get in the corner and
+stoop down behind the sandbags; you can lay your rifles on them, so as
+to be able to fire as soon as you have lit the second rocket.”
+
+The Doctor soon came up with the rockets; he had made three dozen the
+week before, and a number of blue lights, for the special purpose of
+detecting any movement that the enemy might make at night.
+
+“I will fire them myself,” he said, as Wilson offered to take them. “I
+have had charge of the fireworks in a score of fetes and that sort of
+thing, and am a pretty good hand at it. There, we will lean them against
+the sandbags. That is about it. Now, are you all ready, Major?”
+
+“All ready!” replied the Major.
+
+The Doctor placed the end of his lighted cheroot against the touch
+paper, there was a momentary pause, then a rushing sound, and the rocket
+soared high in the air, and then burst, throwing out four or five white
+fireballs, which lit up clearly the spot they were watching.
+
+“There they are!” the Major exclaimed; “just to the right of the
+bungalow; there are scores of them.”
+
+The rifles, both from the terrace and the platforms below, cracked out
+in rapid succession, and another rocket flew up into the air and burst.
+Before its light had faded out, each of the defenders had fired his four
+shots. Shouts and cries from the direction in which they fired showed
+that many of the bullets had told, whilst almost immediately a sharp
+fire broke out from the bushes round them.
+
+“Don’t mind the fellows in the shrubs,” the Major said, “but keep up
+your fire on the battery. We know its exact position now, though we
+cannot actually make them out.”
+
+“Let them wait while I go down and get a bit of phosphorus,” the Doctor
+said. “I have some in the surgery. They will only throw away their fire
+in the dark without it.”
+
+He soon returned, and when all the fore and back sights had been rubbed
+by the phosphorus the firing recommenced, and the Doctor sent Wilson
+down with the phosphorus to the men on the platforms facing the
+threatened point.
+
+Bathurst was returning, after having given the message to Captain
+Doolan, when Mrs. Hunter met him in the passage. She put her hand kindly
+on his shoulder.
+
+“Now, Mr. Bathurst, if you will take my advice you will remain quietly
+here. The Doctor tells me they are going to open fire, and it is not the
+least use your going there exposing yourself to be shot when you know
+that you will be of no use. You showed us yesterday that you could be
+of use in other ways, and I have no doubt you will have opportunities of
+doing so again. I can assure you none of us will think any the worse
+of you for not being able to struggle against a nervous affliction that
+gives you infinite pain. If they were attacking it would be different; I
+know you would be wanting to take your share then.”
+
+“Thank you, Mrs. Hunter,” he said, “but I must go up. I grant that I
+shall be of no use, but at least I will take any chance that the others
+run of being shot. A man does not flinch from a painful operation, and,
+whatever the pain, it has to be faced. I may get used to it in time; but
+whether I do or not I must go through it, though I do not say it doesn’t
+hurt.”
+
+At this moment the rattle of musketry broke out above. Bathurst gave a
+violent start, and a low cry as of pain; then he rushed past Mrs. Hunter
+and up the staircase to the terrace, when he staggered rather than
+walked forward to the parapet, and threw himself down beside two figures
+who were in the act of firing.
+
+“Is that you, Bathurst?” the Major’s voice asked. “Mind, man, don’t lift
+your head above the sandbags in that way. There, you had best lie quiet;
+the natives have no idea of attacking, and it is of no use throwing away
+valuable ammunition by firing unless your hand is steady.”
+
+But Bathurst did not hear, and remained with his head above the line
+of sandbags until the Major put his hand on his shoulder and forced him
+down. He might have put his hands over his ears to deaden the sound--for
+in the darkness no one would have seen the action--but he would not do
+so, but with clenched teeth and quivering nerves lay there until the
+Major said, “I fancy we have stopped them working. Now, Doctor, do you,
+Hunter, Bathurst, and Farquharson go and lie down for four hours, when I
+will send for you to take our places. Before you lie down will you tell
+Doolan to send half his party in? Of course you will lie down in your
+clothes, ready to fall in at your posts at a moment’s notice.”
+
+“Let me send another rocket up first, Major, to see what they are doing.
+We can sleep tomorrow in the daytime; they won’t dare to work under our
+fire then. Now, get ready, gentlemen, and don’t throw away a shot, if
+they are still working there.”
+
+The light of the rocket showed that there were now no natives at the
+spot where they had been seen at work.
+
+“I thought it would be too hot for them, Major, at such close quarters
+as these. We must have played the mischief with them.”
+
+“All the better, Doctor; we will send a few shots there occasionally to
+show them we have not forgotten them. But the principal thing will be
+to keep our ears open to see that they don’t bring up ladders and try a
+rush.”
+
+“I think there is no fear of that tonight, Major. They would not have
+set to work at the battery if they had any idea of trying to scale the
+wall with ladders. That will come later on; but I don’t think you will
+be troubled any more tonight, except by these fellows firing away from
+the bushes, and I should think they would get tired of wasting their
+ammunition soon. It is fortunate we brought all the spare ammunition in
+here.”
+
+“Yes, they only had ten rounds of ball cartridge, and that must be
+nearly used up by this time. They will have to make up their cartridges
+in future, and cast their bullets, unless they can get a supply from
+some of the other mutineers.”
+
+“Well, you will send for us in four hours, Major?”
+
+“You need not be afraid of my forgetting.”
+
+Dawn was just breaking when the relief were called up; the firing had
+died away, and all was quiet.
+
+“You will take command here, Rintoul,” the Major said. “I should keep
+Farquharson up here, if I were you, and leave the Doctor and Bathurst to
+look after things in general. I think, Doctor, it would be as well if we
+appointed Bathurst in charge of the general arrangements of the house.
+We have a good amount of stores, but the servants will waste them if
+they are not looked after. I should put them on rations, Bathurst; and
+there might be regular rations of things served out for us too; then
+it would fall in your province to see that the syces water and feed the
+horses. You will examine the well regularly, and note whether there is
+any change in the look of the water. I think you will find plenty to
+do.”
+
+“Thank you, Major,” Bathurst said. “I appreciate your kindness, and
+for the present, at any rate, will gladly undertake the work of looking
+after the stores and servants; but there is one thing I have been
+thinking of, and which I should like to speak to you about at once, if
+you could spare a minute or two before you turn in.”
+
+“What is that, Bathurst?”
+
+“I think that we are agreed, Major, that though we may hold this place
+for a time, sooner or later we must either surrender or the place be
+carried by storm.”
+
+Major Hannay nodded.
+
+“That is what it must come to, Bathurst. If they will at last grant
+us terms, well and good; if not, we must either try to escape or die
+fighting.”
+
+“It is about the escape I have been thinking, Major; as our position
+grows more and more desperate they will close round us, and although we
+might have possibly got through last night, our chances of doing so when
+they have once broken into the inclosure and begin to attack the house
+itself are very slight. A few of us who can speak the language well
+might possibly in disguise get away, but it would be impossible for the
+bulk of us to do so.”
+
+“I quite see that, Bathurst.”
+
+“My proposal is, Major, that we should begin at once to mine; that is,
+to drive a gallery from the cellar, and to carry it on steadily as far
+as we can. I should say that we have ten days or a fortnight before us
+before matters get to an extremity, and in that time we ought to be able
+to get, working night and day, from fifty to a hundred yards beyond the
+wall, aiming at a clump of bushes. There is a large one in Farquharson’s
+compound, about a hundred yards off. Then, when things get to the worst,
+we can work upwards, and come out on a dark night. We might leave a long
+fuse burning in the magazine, so that there should be an explosion an
+hour or two after we had left. There is enough powder there to bring the
+house down, and the Sepoys might suppose that we had all been buried in
+the ruins.”
+
+“I think the idea is a very good one, Bathurst. What do you think,
+Doctor?”
+
+“Capital,” the Doctor said. “It is a light sandy soil, and we should
+be able to get through it at a pretty good rate. How many can work
+together, do you think, Bathurst?”
+
+“I should say two of us in each shift, to drive, and, if necessary, prop
+the roof, with some of the natives to carry out the earth. If we have
+three shifts, each shift would go on twice in the twenty-four hours;
+that would be four hours on and eight hours off.”
+
+“Will you take charge of the operation, Bathurst?”
+
+“With pleasure, Major.”
+
+“Very well then. You shall have with you Wilson and Richards and the
+three youngest of the civilians, Saunderson, Austin, and Herbert. You
+six will be relieved from other duty except when the enemy threaten an
+attack. I will put down Saunderson and Austin together. Which of the
+others would you like to have with you?”
+
+“I will take Wilson, sir.”
+
+“Very well, then, Richards and Herbert will make the third party. After
+breakfast we can pick out the twelve strongest of the natives. I will
+tell them that they have to work, but that they will be each paid half
+a rupee a day in addition to their ordinary wages. Then you will give a
+general supervision to the work, Bathurst, in addition to your own share
+in it?”
+
+“Certainly, Major, I will take general charge of it.”
+
+So at breakfast the Major explained the plan agreed upon. The five men
+chosen at once expressed their willingness to undertake the work, and
+the offer of half a rupee extra a day was sufficient to induce twelve of
+the servants to volunteer for it. The Major went down to the cellars
+and fixed upon the spot at which the work should begin; and Bathurst and
+Wilson, taking some of the intrenching tools from the storeroom, began
+to break through the wall without delay.
+
+“I like this,” Wilson said. “It is a thousand times better than sitting
+up there waiting till they choose to make an attack. How wide shall we
+make it?”
+
+“As narrow as we can for one to pass along at a time,” Bathurst said.
+“The narrower it is, the less trouble we shall have with the roof.”
+
+“But only one will be able to work at a time in that case.”
+
+“That will be quite enough,”. Bathurst said. “It will be hot work and
+hard. We will relieve each other every five minutes or so.”
+
+A very short time sufficed to break through the wall.
+
+“Thank goodness, it is earth,” Wilson said, thrusting a crowbar through
+the opening as soon as it was made.
+
+“I had no fear of its being rock, Wilson. If it had been, they would not
+have taken the trouble to have walled the sides of the cellar. The soil
+is very deep all over here. The natives have to line their wells thirty
+or forty feet down.”
+
+The enemy were quiet all day, but the garrison thought it likely that,
+warned by the lesson of the night before, they were erecting a battery
+some distance farther back, masked by the trees, and that until it was
+ready to open fire they would know nothing about it.
+
+“So you have turned miner, Mr. Wilson?” Isobel Hannay said to him as,
+after a change and a bath, he came in to get his lunch.
+
+“I calculate I have lost half a stone in weight, Miss Hannay. If I were
+to go on at this for a month or two there would be nothing left of me.”
+
+“And how far did you drive the hole?”
+
+“Gallery, Miss Hannay; please call it a gallery, it sounds so much
+better. We got in five yards. I should hardly have believed it possible,
+but Bathurst is a tremendous fellow to work. He uses a pick as if he had
+been a sapper all his life. We kept the men pretty hard at work, I can
+tell you, carrying up the earth. Richards is at work now, and I bet him
+five rupees that he and Herbert don’t drive as far as we did.”
+
+“There is not much use in betting now, Mr. Wilson,” Isobel said sadly.
+
+“No, I suppose not, Miss Hannay; but it gives a sort of interest to
+one’s work. I have blistered my hands horribly, but I suppose they will
+get hard in a day or two.”
+
+“I wish we could work at something,” Isobel said. “Now that we have
+finished with the bags and bandages, the time seems very long; the only
+thing there is to do is to play with the children and try to keep them
+good; it is fortunate there is a bit of garden for them to play in.”
+
+“It is not much of a garden, Miss Hannay. We had something like a garden
+when I was a boy at home; the governor’s is a jolly old rectory, with a
+splendid garden. What fun we used to have there when I was a young one!
+I wonder what the dear old governor and mater would say if they knew the
+fix we were in here. You know, sometimes I think that Forster’s plan
+was the best, and that it would be better to try and make a dash through
+them.”
+
+“We are in your way, Mr. Wilson; you wouldn’t be able to do much
+fighting if you had one of us clinging to you.”
+
+“I don’t know, Miss Hannay,” Wilson said quietly, “what my fighting
+powers are, but I fancy if you were clinging to me I could cut my way
+through a good deal.”
+
+“I am sure you would do anything that anyone could do,” the girl said
+kindly; “but whatever you might feel, having another person behind
+you could not but hamper you awfully. I would infinitely rather try to
+escape on foot, for then I should be relying on myself, while if I was
+riding behind anyone, and we were pursued or attacked, I should feel all
+the time I was destroying his chances, and that if it were not for me
+he would get away. That would be terrible. I don’t know whether we were
+wise to stay here instead of trying to escape at once; but as uncle and
+Mr. Hunter and the others all thought it wiser to stay, I have no doubt
+it was; but I am quite sure that it could not have been a good plan to
+go off like that on horseback.”
+
+Another day passed quietly, and then during the night the watch heard
+the sounds of blows with axes, and of falling trees.
+
+“They are clearing the ground in front of their battery,” the Major,
+who was on the watch with his party, said; “it will begin in earnest
+tomorrow morning. The sound came from just where we expected. It is
+about in the same line as where they made their first attempt, but a
+hundred yards or so further back.”
+
+At daylight they saw that the trees and bushes had been leveled, and a
+battery, with embrazures for six guns, erected at a distance of about
+four hundred yards from the house. More sandbags were at once brought up
+from below, and the parapet, on the side facing the battery, raised two
+feet and doubled in thickness. The garrison were not disturbed while so
+engaged.
+
+“Why the deuce don’t the fellows begin?” Captain Forster said
+impatiently, as he stood looking over the parapet when the work was
+finished.
+
+“I expect they are waiting for the Rajah and some of the principal
+Zemindars to come down,” replied the Major; “the guns are theirs, you
+see, and will most likely be worked by their own followers. No doubt
+they think they will knock the place to pieces in a few minutes.
+
+“Listen! there is music; they are coming in grand state. Rintoul, will
+you tell the workers in the mine to come up. By the way, who are at work
+now?”
+
+“Bathurst and Wilson, sir.”
+
+“Then tell Wilson to come up, and request Bathurst to go on with the
+gallery. Tell him I want that pushed forward as fast as possible, and
+that one gun will not make much difference here. Request the ladies and
+children to go down into the storeroom for the present. I don’t think
+the balls will go through the wall, but it is as well to be on the safe
+side.”
+
+Captain Rintoul delivered his message to the ladies. They had already
+heard that the battery had been unmasked and was ready to open fire, and
+lamps had been placed in the storeroom in readiness for them. There
+were pale faces among them, but their thoughts were of those on the roof
+rather than of themselves.
+
+Mrs. Hunter took up the Bible she had been reading, and said, “Tell
+them, Captain Rintoul, we shall be praying for them.” The ladies went
+into the room that served as a nursery, and with the ayahs and other
+female servants carried the children down into the storeroom.
+
+“I would much rather be up there,” Isobel said to Mrs. Doolan; “we could
+load the muskets for them, and I don’t think it would be anything
+like so bad if we could see what was going on as being cooped up below
+fancying the worst all the time.”
+
+“I quite agree with you, but men never will get to understand women.
+Perhaps before we are done they will recognize the fact that we are no
+more afraid than they are.”
+
+The music was heard approaching along the road where the bungalows had
+stood. Presently a number of flags were raised in the battery amid a
+great beating of drums. On the previous day a flagstaff had been erected
+on the roof, and a Union Jack was run up in answer to the enemy’s
+demonstration.
+
+“A cheer for the old flag, lads,” the Major said; and a hearty cheer
+broke from the little party on the roof, where, with the exception of
+Bathurst, all the garrison were assembled. The cheer was answered by a
+yell from the natives not only in the battery, but from the gardens and
+inclosures round the house.
+
+“Pay no attention to the fellows in the gardens,” the Major said; “fire
+at their guns--they must expose themselves to load.”
+
+The men were kneeling behind the parapet, where the sandbags had been
+so arranged that they could see through between those on the upper line,
+and thus fire without raising their heads above it.
+
+“Shall we wait for them or fire first, Major?” the Doctor asked.
+
+“I expect the guns are loaded and laid, Doctor; but if you see a head
+looking along them, by all means take a shot at it. I wish we could see
+down into the battery itself, but it is too high for that.”
+
+The Doctor lay looking along his rifle. Presently he fired, and as if
+it had been the signal five cannon boomed out almost at the same moment,
+the other being fired a quarter of a minute later. Three of the shot
+struck the house below the parapet, the others went overhead.
+
+“I hit my man,” the Doctor said, as he thrust another rifle through the
+loophole. “Now, we will see if we can keep them from loading.”
+
+Simultaneously with the roar of the cannon a rattle of musketry broke
+out on three sides of the house, and a hail of bullets whistled over the
+heads of the defenders, who opened a steady fire at the embrasures of
+the guns. These had been run in, and the natives could be seen loading
+them. The Major examined the work through a pair of field glasses.
+
+“You are doing well,” he said presently; “I have seen several of them
+fall, and there is a lot of confusion among them; they will soon get
+tired of that game.”
+
+Slowly and irregularly the guns were run out again, and the fire of the
+defenders was redoubled to prevent them from taking aim. Only one shot
+hit the house this time, the others all going overhead. The fire of the
+enemy became slower and more irregular, and at the end of an hour ceased
+almost entirely.
+
+“Doctor,” the Major said, “I will get you and Farquharson to turn your
+attention to some fellows there are in that high tree over there. They
+command us completely, and many of their bullets have struck on the
+terrace behind us. It would not be safe to move across to the stairs
+now. I think we have pretty well silenced the battery for the present.
+Here are my glasses. With them you can easily make out the fellows among
+the leaves.”
+
+“I see them,” the Doctor said, handing the glasses to Farquharson; “we
+will soon get them out of that. Now, Farquharson, you take that fellow
+out on the lower branch to the right; I will take the one close to the
+trunk on the same branch.”
+
+Laying their rifles on the upper row of sandbags, the two men took a
+steady aim. They fired almost together, and two bodies were seen to fall
+from the tree.
+
+“Well shot!” the Major exclaimed. “There are something like a dozen of
+them up there; but they will soon clear out if you keep that up.”
+
+“They are not more than two hundred yards away,” the Doctor said, “and
+firing from a rest we certainly ought not to miss them at that distance.
+Give me the glasses again.”
+
+A similar success attended the next two shots, and then a number of
+figures were seen hastily climbing down.
+
+“Give them a volley, gentlemen,” the Major said.
+
+A dozen guns were fired, and three more men dropped, and an angry yell
+from the natives answered the shout of triumph from the garrison.
+
+“Will you go down, Mr. Hunter, and tell the ladies that we have silenced
+the guns for the present, and that no one has received a scratch? Now,
+let us see what damage their balls have effected.”
+
+This was found to be trifling. The stonework of the house was strong,
+and the guns were light. The stonework of one of the windows was broken,
+and two or three stones in the wall cracked. One ball had entered a
+window, torn its way through two inner walls, and lay against the back
+wall.
+
+“It is a four pound ball,” the Major said, taking it up. “I fancy the
+guns are seven pounders. They have evidently no balls to fit, which
+accounts for the badness of their firing and the little damage they did;
+with so much windage the balls can have had but small velocity. Well,
+that is a satisfactory beginning, gentlemen; they will take a long time
+to knock the place about our ears at this rate. Now we will see if we
+cannot clear them out of the gardens. Captain Doolan, will you take the
+glasses and watch the battery; if you see any movement about the guns,
+the fire will be reopened at once; until then all will devote their
+attention to those fellows among the bushes; it is important to teach
+them that they are not safe there, for a chance ball might come in
+between the sandbags. Each of you pick out a particular bush, and watch
+it till you see the exact position in which anyone firing from it must
+be in, and then try to silence him. Don’t throw away a shot if you can
+help it. We have a good stock of ammunition, but it is as well not to
+waste it. I will leave you in command at present, Doolan.”
+
+Major Hannay then went down to the storeroom.
+
+“I have come to relieve you from your confinement, ladies,” he said. “I
+am glad to say that we find their balls will not penetrate the walls
+of the house alone, and there is therefore no fear whatever of their
+passing through them and the garden wall together; therefore, as long
+as the wall is intact, there is no reason whatever why you should not
+remain on the floor above.”
+
+There was a general exclamation of pleasure.
+
+“That will be vastly better, uncle,” Isobel said; “it is hateful being
+hidden away down here when we have nothing to do but to listen to the
+firing; we don’t see why some of us should not go up on the terrace to
+load the rifles for you.”
+
+“Not at present, Isobel; we are not pressed yet. When it comes to a real
+attack it will be time to consider about that. I don’t think any of us
+would shoot straighter if there were women right up among us in danger.”
+
+“I don’t at all see why it should be worse our being in danger than for
+you men, Major,” Mrs. Doolan said; “we have just as much at stake, and
+more; and I warn you I shall organize a female mutiny if we are not
+allowed to help.”
+
+The Major laughed.
+
+“Well, Mrs. Doolan, I shall have to convert this storeroom into a
+prison, and all who defy my authority will be immured here, so now you
+know the consequence of disobedience.”
+
+“And has no one been hurt with all that firing, Major Hannay?” Mary
+Hunter asked.
+
+“A good many people have been hurt, Miss Hunter, but no one on our side.
+I fancy we must have made it very hot for those at the guns, and the
+Doctor and Mr. Farquharson have been teaching them not to climb trees.
+At present that firing you hear is against those who are hiding in the
+gardens.”
+
+An hour later the firing ceased altogether, the natives finding the fire
+of the defenders so deadly that they no longer dared, by discharging a
+rifle, to show where they were hiding. They had drawn off from the more
+distant clumps and bushes, but dared not try and crawl from those nearer
+the house until after nightfall.
+
+The next morning it was found that during the night the enemy had closed
+up their embrasures, leaving only openings sufficiently large for the
+muzzles of the guns to be thrust through, and soon after daybreak they
+renewed their fire. The Doctor and Mr. Farquharson alone remained on
+the roof, and throughout the day they kept up a steady fire at these
+openings whenever the guns were withdrawn. Several of the sandbags were
+knocked off the parapet during the course of the day, and a few shot
+found their way through the walls of the upper story, but beyond this
+no damage was done. The mining was kept up with great vigor, and the
+gallery advanced rapidly, the servants finding it very hard work to
+remove the earth as fast as the miners brought it down.
+
+Captain Forster offered to go out with three others at night to try
+and get into the battery and spike the guns, but Major Hannay would not
+permit the attempt to be made.
+
+“We know they have several other guns,” he said, “and the risk would be
+altogether too great, for there would be practically no chance of your
+getting back and being drawn up over the wall before you were overtaken,
+even if you succeeded in spiking the guns. There are probably a hundred
+men sleeping in the battery, and it is likely they would have sentries
+out in front of it. The loss of four men would seriously weaken the
+garrison.”
+
+The next morning another battery to the left was unmasked, and on
+the following day three guns were planted, under cover, so as to play
+against the gate. The first battery now concentrated its fire upon the
+outer wall, the new battery played upon the upper part of the house, and
+the three guns kept up a steady fire at the gate.
+
+There was little rest for the besieged now. It was a constant duel
+between their rifles and the guns, varied by their occasionally turning
+their attention to men who climbed trees, or who, from the roofs of some
+buildings still standing, endeavored to keep down their fire.
+
+Wilson had been released from his labors in the gallery, Bathurst
+undertaking to get down the earth single handed as fast as the servants
+could remove it.
+
+“I never saw such a fellow to work, Miss Hannay,” Wilson said one day,
+when he was off duty, and happened to find her working alone at some
+bandages. “I know you don’t like him, but he is a first rate fellow if
+there ever was one. It is unlucky for him being so nervous at the guns;
+but that is no fault of his, after all, and I am sure in other things he
+is as cool as possible. Yesterday I was standing close to him, shoving
+the earth back to the men as he got it down. Suddenly he shouted, ‘Run,
+Wilson, the roof is coming down!’ I could not help bolting a few yards,
+for the earth came pattering down as he spoke; then I looked round and
+saw him standing there, by the light of the lamp, like those figures
+you see holding up pillars; I forget what they call them--catydigs, or
+something of that sort.”
+
+“Caryatides,” Isobel put in.
+
+“Yes, that is the name. Some timber had given way above him, and he was
+holding it up with his arms. I should say that there must have been
+half a ton of it, and he said, as quietly as possible, ‘Get two of those
+short poles, Wilson, and put up one on each side of me. I can hold it a
+bit, but don’t be longer than you can help about it.’ I managed to shove
+up the timber, so that he could slip out before it came down. It would
+have crushed us both to a certainty if he had not held it up.”
+
+“Why do you say you know I don’t like Mr. Bathurst?”
+
+“I don’t exactly know, Miss Hannay, but I have noticed you are the only
+lady who does not chat with him. I don’t think I have seen you speak
+to him since we have come in here. I am sorry, because I like him very
+much, and I don’t care for Forster at all.”
+
+“What has Captain Forster to do with it?” Isobel asked, somewhat
+indignantly.
+
+“Oh, nothing at all, Miss Hannay, only, you know, Bathurst used to be
+a good deal at the Major’s before Forster came, and then after that I
+never met him there except on that evening before he came in here. Now
+you know, Miss Hannay,” he went on earnestly, “what I think about you. I
+have not been such an ass as to suppose I ever had a chance, though you
+know I would lay down my life for you willingly; but I did not seem to
+mind Bathurst. I know he is an awfully good fellow, and would have
+made you very happy; but I don’t feel like that with Forster. There is
+nothing in the world that I should like better than to punch his head;
+and when I see that a fellow like that has cut Bathurst out altogether
+it makes me so savage sometimes that I have to go and smoke a pipe
+outside so as not to break out and have a row with him.”
+
+“You ought not to talk so, Mr. Wilson. It is very wrong. You have
+no right to say that anyone has cut anyone else out as far as I am
+concerned. I know you are all fond of me in a brotherly sort of way,
+and I like you very much; but that gives you no right to say such
+things about other people. Mr. Bathurst ceased his visits not because of
+Captain Forster but from another reason altogether; and certainly I
+have neither said nor done anything that would justify your saying that
+Captain Forster had cut Mr. Bathurst out. Even if I had, you ought not
+to have alluded to such a thing. I am not angry with you,” she said,
+seeing how downcast he looked; “but you must not talk like that any
+more; it would be wrong at any time; it is specially so now, when we are
+all shut up here together, and none can say what will happen to us.”
+
+“It seemed to me that was just the reason why I could speak about it,
+Miss Hannay. We may none of us get out of this fix we are in, and I
+do think we ought all to be friends together now. Richards and I both
+agreed that as it was certain neither of us had a chance of winning you,
+the next best thing was to see you and Bathurst come together. Well, now
+all that’s over, of course, but is it wrong for me to ask, how is it you
+have come to dislike him?”
+
+“But I don’t dislike him, Mr. Wilson.”
+
+“Well, then, why do you go on as if you didn’t like him?”
+
+Isobel hesitated. From most men she would have considered the question
+impertinent, and would have resented it, but this frank faced boy meant
+no impertinence; he loved her in his honest way, and only wanted to see
+her happy.
+
+“I can’t speak to him if he doesn’t speak to me,” she said desperately.
+
+“No, of course not,” he agreed; “but why shouldn’t he speak to you? You
+can’t have done anything to offend him except taking up with Forster.”
+
+“It is nothing to do with Captain Forster at all, Mr. Wilson; I--” and
+she hesitated. “I said something at which he had the right to feel hurt
+and offended, and he has never given me any opportunity since of saying
+that I was sorry.”
+
+“I am sure you would not have said anything that he should have been
+offended about, Miss Hannay; it is not your nature, and I would not
+believe it whoever told me, not even yourself; so he must be in fault,
+and, of course, I have nothing more to say about it.”
+
+“He wasn’t in fault at all, Mr. Wilson. I can’t tell you what I said,
+but it was very wrong and thoughtless on my part, and I have been sorry
+for it ever since; and he has a perfect right to be hurt and not to
+come near me, especially as”--and she hesitated--“as I have acted badly
+since, and he has no reason for supposing that I am sorry. And now you
+must not ask me any more about it; I don’t know why I have said as much
+to you as I have, only I know I can trust you, and I like you very much,
+though I could never like you in the sort of way you would want me to. I
+wish you didn’t like me like that.”
+
+“Oh, never mind me,” he said earnestly. “I am all right, Miss Hannay; I
+never expected anything, you know, so I am not disappointed, and it has
+been awfully good of you talking to me as you have, and not getting
+mad with me for interfering. But I can hear them coming down from the
+terrace, and I must be off. I am on duty there, you know, now. Bathurst
+has undertaken double work in that hole. I didn’t like it, really; it
+seemed mean to be getting out of the work and letting him do it all, but
+he said that he liked work, and I really think he does. I am sure he is
+always worrying himself because he can’t take his share in the firing on
+the roof; and when he is working he hasn’t time to think about it. When
+he told me that in future he would drive the tunnel our shift himself,
+he said, ‘That will enable you to take your place on the roof, Wilson,
+and you must remember you are firing for both of us, so don’t throw
+away a shot.’ It is awfully rough on him, isn’t it? Well, goodby, Miss
+Hannay,” and Wilson hurried off to the roof.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+
+The next four days made a great alteration in the position of the
+defenders in the fortified house.
+
+The upper story was now riddled by balls, the parapet round the terrace
+had been knocked away in several places, the gate was in splinters; but
+as the earth from the tunnel had been all emptied against the sandbags,
+it had grown to such a thickness that the defense was still good here.
+But in the wall, against which one of the new batteries had steadily
+directed its fire, there was a yawning gap, which was hourly increasing
+in size, and would ere long be practicable for assault. Many of the
+shots passing through this had struck the house itself. Some of these
+had penetrated, and the room in the line of fire could no longer be
+used.
+
+There had been several casualties. The young civilian Herbert had
+been killed by a shot that struck the parapet just where he was lying.
+Captain Rintoul had been seriously wounded, two of the natives had been
+killed by the first shot which penetrated the lower room. Mr. Hunter
+was prostrate with fever, the result of exposure to the sun, and several
+others had received wounds more or less severe from fragments of stone;
+but the fire of the defenders was as steady as at first, and the loss of
+the natives working the guns was severe, and they no longer ventured to
+fire from the gardens and shrubberies round the walls.
+
+Fatigue, watching, still more the heat on the terrace, was telling
+heavily upon the strength of the garrison. The ladies went about
+their work quietly and almost silently. The constant anxiety and the
+confinement in the darkened rooms were telling upon them too. Several of
+the children were ill; and when not employed in other things, there
+were fresh sandbags to be made by the women, to take the place of those
+damaged by the enemy’s shot.
+
+When, of an evening, a portion of the defenders came off duty, there was
+more talk and conversation, as all endeavored to keep up a good face and
+assume a confidence they were far from feeling. The Doctor was perhaps
+the most cheery of the party. During the daytime he was always on the
+roof, and his rifle seldom cracked in vain. In the evening he attended
+to his patients, talked cheerily to the ladies, and laughed and joked
+over the events of the day.
+
+None among the ladies showed greater calmness and courage than Mrs.
+Rintoul, and not a word was ever heard from the time the siege began
+of her ailments or inconveniences. She was Mrs. Hunter’s best assistant
+with the sick children. Even after her husband was wounded, and her
+attention night and day was given to him, she still kept on patiently
+and firmly.
+
+“I don’t know how to admire Mrs. Rintoul enough,” Mrs. Hunter said to
+Isobel Hannay one day; “formerly I had no patience with her, she was
+always querulous and grumbling; now she has turned out a really noble
+woman. One never knows people, my dear, till one sees them in trouble.”
+
+“Everyone is nice,” Isobel said. “I have hardly heard a word of
+complaint about anything since we came here, and everyone seems to help
+others and do little kindnesses.”
+
+The enemy’s fire had been very heavy all that day, and the breach in
+the wall had been widened, and the garrison felt certain that the enemy
+would attack on the following morning.
+
+“You and Farquharson, Doctor, must stop on the roof,” the Major said.
+“In the first place, it is possible they may try to attack by ladders at
+some other point, and we shall want two good shots up there to keep them
+back; and in the second, if they do force the breach, we shall want you
+to cover our retreat into the house. I will get a dozen rifles for each
+of you loaded and in readiness. Isobel and Mary Hunter, who have both
+volunteered over and over again, shall go up to load; they have both
+practiced, and can load quickly. Of course if you see that the enemy
+are not attacking at any other point, you will help us at the breach
+by keeping up a steady fire on them, but always keep six guns each in
+reserve. I shall blow my whistle as a signal for us to retire to the
+house if I find we can hold the breach no longer, so when you hear that
+blaze away at them as fast as you can. Your twelve shots will check them
+long enough to give us time to get in and fasten the door. We shall
+be round the corner of the house before they can get fairly over the
+breastwork. We will set to work to raise that as soon as it gets dark.”
+
+A breastwork of sandbags had already been erected behind the breach, in
+case the enemy should make a sudden rush, and a couple of hours’ labor
+transformed this into a strong work; for the bags were already filled,
+and only needed placing in position. When completed, it extended in a
+horseshoe shape, some fifteen feet across, behind the gap in the wall.
+For nine feet from the ground it was composed of sandbags three deep,
+and a single line was then laid along the edge to serve as a parapet.
+
+“I don’t think they will get over that,” the Major said, when the work
+was finished. “I doubt if they will be disposed even to try when they
+reach the breach.”
+
+Before beginning their work they had cleared away all the fallen
+brickwork from behind the breach, and a number of bricks were laid on
+the top of the sandbags to be used as missiles.
+
+“A brick is as good as a musket ball at this distance,” the Major said;
+“and when our guns are empty we can take to them; there are enough spare
+rifles for us to have five each, and, with those and our revolvers and
+the bricks, we ought to be able to account for an army. There are some
+of the servants and syces who can be trusted to load. They can stand
+down behind us, and we can pass our guns down to them as we empty them.”
+
+Each man had his place on the work assigned to him. Bathurst, who had
+before told the Major that when the time came for an assault to be
+delivered he was determined to take his place in the breach, was placed
+at one end of the horseshoe where it touched the wall.
+
+“I don’t promise to be of much use, Major,” he said quietly. “I know
+myself too well; but at least I can run my chance of being killed.”
+
+The Major had put Wilson next to him.
+
+“I don’t think there is much chance of their storming the work, Wilson;
+but if they do, you catch hold of Bathurst’s arm, and drag him away
+when you hear me whistle; the chances are a hundred to one against his
+hearing it, or remembering what it means if he does hear it.”
+
+“All right, Major, I will look to him.”
+
+Four men remained on guard at the breach all night, and at the first
+gleam of daylight the garrison took up their posts.
+
+“Now mind, my dears,” the Doctor said, as he and Farquharson went up on
+the terrace with Isobel and Mary Hunter; “you must do exactly as you are
+told, or you will be doing more harm than good, for Farquharson and I
+would not be able to pay attention to our shooting. You must lie down
+and remain perfectly quiet till we begin to fire, then keep behind us
+just so far that you can reach the guns as we hand them back to you
+after firing; and you must load them either kneeling or sitting down,
+so that you don’t expose your heads above the thickest part of the
+breastwork. When you have loaded, push the guns back well to the right
+of us, but so that we can reach them. Then, if one of them goes off,
+there won’t be any chance of our being hit. The garrison can’t afford to
+throw away a life at present. You will, of course, only half cock them;
+still, it is as well to provide against accidents.”
+
+Both the girls were pale, but they were quiet and steady. The Doctor saw
+they were not likely to break down.
+
+“That is a rum looking weapon you have got there, Bathurst,” Wilson
+said, as, after carrying down the spare guns and placing them ready for
+firing, they lay down in their positions on the sandbags. The weapon
+was a native one, and was a short mace, composed of a bar of iron about
+fifteen inches long, with a knob of the same metal, studded with spikes.
+The bar was covered with leather to break the jar, and had a loop to put
+the hand through at the end.
+
+“Yes,” Bathurst said quietly; “I picked it up at one of the native shops
+in Cawnpore the last time I was there. I had no idea then that I might
+ever have to use it, and bought it rather as a curiosity; but I have
+kept it within reach of my bedside since these troubles began, and I
+don’t think one could want a better weapon at close quarters.”
+
+“No, it is a tremendous thing; and after the way I have seen you using
+that pick I should not like to be within reach of your arm with that
+mace in it. I don’t think there is much chance of your wanting that. I
+have no fear of the natives getting over here this time.”
+
+“I have no fear of the natives at all,” Bathurst said.
+
+“I am only afraid of myself. At present I am just as cool as if there
+was not a native within a thousand miles, and I am sure that my pulse is
+not going a beat faster than usual. I can think of the whole thing and
+calculate the chances as calmly as if it were an affair in which I was
+in no way concerned. It is not danger that I fear in the slightest, it
+is that horrible noise. I know well enough that the moment the firing
+begins I shall be paralyzed. My only hope is that at the last moment, if
+it comes to hand to hand fighting, I shall get my nerve.”
+
+“I have no doubt you will,” Wilson said warmly; “and when you do I would
+back you at long odds against any of us. Ah, they are beginning.”
+
+As he spoke there was a salvo of all the guns on the three Sepoy
+batteries. Then a roar of musketry broke out round the house, and above
+it could be heard loud shouts.
+
+“They are coming, Major,” the Doctor shouted down from the roof; “the
+Sepoys are leading, and there is a crowd of natives behind them.”
+
+Those lying in the middle of the curve of the horseshoe soon caught
+sight of the enemy advancing tumultuously towards the breach. The Major
+had ordered that not a shot was to be fired until they reached it, and
+it was evident that the silence of the besieged awed the assailants with
+a sense of unknown danger, for their pace slackened, and when they got
+to within fifty yards of the breach they paused and opened fire. Then,
+urged forward by their officers and encouraged by their own noise, they
+again rushed forward. Two of their officers led the way; and as these
+mounted the little heap of rubbish at the foot of the breach, two rifles
+cracked out from the terrace, and both fell dead.
+
+There was a yell of fury from the Sepoys, and then they poured in
+through the breach. Those in front tried to stop as they saw the trap
+into which they were entering, but pressed on by those behind they were
+forced forward.
+
+And now a crackling fire of musketry broke out from the rifles
+projecting between the sandbags into the crowded mass. Every shot told.
+Wild shrieks, yells, and curses rose from the assailants. Some tried
+madly to climb up the sandbags, some to force their way back through
+the crowd behind; some threw themselves down; others discharged their
+muskets at their invisible foe. From the roof the Doctor and his
+companion kept up a rapid fire upon the crowd struggling to enter the
+breach. As fast as the defenders’ muskets were discharged they handed
+them down to the servants behind to be reloaded, and when each had fired
+his spare muskets he betook himself to his revolver.
+
+Wilson, while discharging his rifle, kept his eyes upon Bathurst. The
+latter had not fired a shot, but lay rigid and still, save for a sort of
+convulsive shuddering. Presently there was a little lull in the firing
+as the weapons were emptied, and the defenders seizing the bricks hurled
+them down into the mass.
+
+“Look out!” the Major shouted; “keep your heads low--I am going to throw
+the canisters.”
+
+A number of these had been prepared, filled to the mouth with powder and
+bullets, and with a short fuse attached, ropes being fastened round them
+to enable them to be slung some distance. The Major half rose to throw
+one of these missiles when his attention was called by a shout from
+Wilson.
+
+The latter was so occupied that he had not noticed Bathurst, who had
+suddenly risen to his feet, and just as Wilson was about to grasp him
+and pull him down, leaped over the sandbag in front of him down among
+the mutineers. The Major gave a swing to the canister, of which the fuse
+was already lighted, and hurled it through the breach among the crowd,
+who, ignorant of what was going on inside, were still struggling to
+enter.
+
+“Look out,” he shouted to the others; “mind how you throw. Bathurst is
+down in the middle of them. Hand up all the muskets you have loaded,” he
+cried to the servants.
+
+As he spoke he swung another canister through the breach, and almost
+immediately two heavy explosions followed, one close upon the other.
+
+“Give them a volley at the breach,” he shouted; “never mind those
+below.”
+
+The muskets were fired as soon as received.
+
+“Now to your feet,” the Major cried, “and give them the brickbats,” and
+as he stood up he hurled two more canisters among the crowd behind the
+breach. The others sprang up with a cheer. The inclosure below them was
+shallower now from the number that had fallen, and was filled with a
+confused mass of struggling men. In their midst was Bathurst fighting
+desperately with his short weapon, and bringing down a man at every
+blow, the mutineers being too crowded together to use their unfixed
+bayonets against him. In a moment Captain Forster leaped down, sword in
+hand, and joined Bathurst in the fight.
+
+“Stand steady,” the Major shouted; “don’t let another man move.”
+
+But the missiles still rained down with an occasional shot, as the
+rifles were handed up by the natives, while the Doctor and Farquharson
+kept up an almost continuous fire from the terrace. Then the two last
+canisters thrown by the Major exploded. The first two had carried havoc
+among the crowd behind the breach, these completed their confusion, and
+they turned and fled; while those in the retrenchment, relieved of the
+pressure from behind, at once turned, and flying through the breach,
+followed their companions.
+
+A loud cheer broke from the garrison, and the Major looking round saw
+the Doctor standing by the parapet waving his hat, while Isobel stood
+beside him looking down at the scene of conflict.
+
+“Lie down, Isobel,” he shouted; “they will be opening fire again
+directly.”
+
+The girl disappeared, and almost at the same moment the batteries spoke
+out again, and a crackle of the musketry began from the gardens. The
+Major turned round. Bathurst was leaning against the wall breathing
+heavily after his exertions, Forster was coolly wiping his sword on the
+tunic of one of the fallen Sepoys.
+
+“Are either of you hurt?” he asked.
+
+“I am not hurt to speak of,” Forster said; “I got a rip with a bayonet
+as I jumped down, but I don’t think it is of any consequence.”
+
+“How are you, Bathurst?” the Major repeated. “What on earth possessed
+you to jump down like that?”
+
+“I don’t know, Major; I had to do something, and when you stopped firing
+I felt it was time for me to do my share.”
+
+“You have done more than your share, I should say,” the Major said; “for
+they went down like ninepins before you. Now, Wilson, you take one of
+his hands, and I will take the other, and help him up.”
+
+It needed considerable exertion to get him up, for the reaction had now
+come, and he was scarce able to stand.
+
+“You had better go up to the house and get a glass of wine,” the Major
+said. “Now, is anyone else hurt?”
+
+“I am hit, Major,” Richards said quietly; “a ball came in between the
+sandbags just as I fired my first shot, and smashed my right shoulder. I
+think I have not been much good since, though I have been firing from my
+left as well as I could. I think I will go up and get the Doctor to look
+at it.”
+
+But almost as he spoke the young fellow tottered, and would have fallen,
+had not the Major caught him.
+
+“Lend me a hand, Doolan,” the latter said; “we will carry him in; I am
+afraid he is very hard hit.”
+
+The ladies gathered round the Major and Captain Doolan as they entered
+with their burden. Mary Hunter had already run down and told them that
+the attack had been repulsed and the enemy had retreated.
+
+“Nobody else is hit,” the Major said, as he entered; “at least, not
+seriously. The enemy have been handsomely beaten with such loss that
+they won’t be in a hurry to try again. Will one of you run up and bring
+the Doctor down?”
+
+Richards was carried into the hospital room, where he was left to the
+care of the Doctor, Mrs. Hunter, and Mrs. Rintoul. The Major returned to
+the general room.
+
+“Boy, bring half a dozen bottles of champagne and open them as quickly
+as you can,” he said; “we have got enough to last us for weeks, and this
+is an occasion to celebrate, and I think we have all earned it.”
+
+The others were by this time coming in, for there was no chance of the
+enemy renewing the attack at present. Farquharson was on the roof on the
+lookout. Quiet greetings were exchanged between wives and husbands.
+
+“It didn’t last long,” Wilson said; “not above five minutes, I should
+say, from the time when we opened fire.”
+
+“It seemed to us an age,” Amy Hunter replied; “it was dreadful not to be
+able to see what was going on; it seemed to me everyone must be killed
+with all that firing.”
+
+“It was sharp while it lasted,” the Major said; “but we were all snug
+enough except against a stray bullet, such as that which hit poor young
+Richards. He behaved very gallantly, and none of us knew he was hit till
+it was all over.”
+
+“But how did Captain Forster get his bayonet wound?” Mrs. Doolan asked.
+“I saw him go in just now into the surgery; it seemed to me he had a
+very serious wound, for his jacket was cut from the breast up to the
+shoulder, and he was bleeding terribly, though he made light of it.”
+
+“He jumped down into the middle of them,” the Major said. “Bathurst
+jumped down first, and was fighting like a madman with a mace he has
+got. We could do nothing, for we were afraid of hitting him, and Forster
+jumped down to help him, and, as he did so, got that rip with the
+bayonet; it is a nasty cut, no doubt, but it is only a flesh wound.”
+
+“Where is Mr. Bathurst?” Mrs. Doolan asked; “is he hurt, too? Why did he
+jump down? I should not have thought,” and she stopped.
+
+“I fancy a sort of fury seized him,” the Major said; “but whatever it
+was, he fought like a giant. He is a powerful man, and that iron mace is
+just the thing for such work. The natives went down like ninepins before
+him. No, I don’t think he is hurt.”
+
+“I will go out and see,” Mrs. Doolan said; and taking a mug half full of
+champagne from the table, she went out.
+
+Bathurst was sitting on the ground leaning against the wall of the
+house.
+
+“You are not hurt, Mr. Bathurst, I hope,” Mrs. Doolan said, as she came
+up. “No, don’t try to get up, drink a little of this; we are celebrating
+our victory by opening a case of champagne. The Major tells us you have
+been distinguishing yourself greatly.”
+
+Bathurst drank some of the wine before he replied.
+
+“In a way, Mrs. Doolan, I scarcely know what I did do. I wanted to do
+something, even if it was only to get killed.”
+
+“You must not talk like that,” she said kindly; “your life is as
+valuable as any here, and you know that we all like and esteem you; and,
+at any rate, you have shown today that you have plenty of courage.”
+
+“The courage of a Malay running amuck, Mrs. Doolan; that is not courage,
+it is madness. You cannot tell--no one can tell--what I have suffered
+since the siege began. The humiliation of knowing that I alone of the
+men here am unable to take my part in the defense, and that while others
+are fighting I am useful only to work as a miner.”
+
+“But you are as useful in that way as you would be in the other,” she
+said. “I don’t feel humiliated because I can only help in nursing the
+sick while the others are fighting for us. We have all of us our gifts.
+Few men have more than you. You have courage and coolness in other ways,
+and you are wrong to care nothing for your life because of the failing,
+for which you are not accountable, of your nerves to stand the sound of
+firearms.. I can understand your feelings and sympathize with you, but
+it is of no use to exaggerate the importance of such a matter. You might
+live a thousand lives without being again in a position when such a
+failing would be of the slightest importance, one way or the other. Now
+come in with me. Certainly this is not the moment for you to give way
+about it; for whatever your feelings may have been, or whatever may have
+impelled you to the act, you have on this occasion fought nobly.”
+
+“Not nobly, Mrs. Doolan,” he said, rising to his feet; “desperately, or
+madly, if you like.”
+
+At this moment Wilson came out. “Halloa, Bathurst, what are doing here?
+Breakfast is just ready, and everyone is asking for you. I am sure
+you must want something after your exertions. You should have seen him
+laying about him with that iron mace, Mrs. Doolan.. I have seen him
+using the pick, and knew how strong he was, but I was astonished, I
+can tell you. It was a sort of Coeur de Lion business. He used to use a
+mace, you know, and once rode through the Saracens and smashed them up,
+till at last, when he had done, he couldn’t open his hand. Bring him in,
+Mrs. Doolan. If he won’t come, I will go in and send the Doctor out
+to him. Bad business, poor Richards being hurt, isn’t it? Awfully good
+fellow, Richards. Can’t think why he was the one to be hit.”
+
+So keeping up a string of talk, the young subaltern led Bathurst into
+the house.
+
+After breakfast a white flag was waved from the roof, and in a short
+time two Sepoy officers came up with a similar flag. The Major and
+Captain Doolan went out to meet them, and it was agreed that hostilities
+should be suspended until noon, in order that the wounded and dead might
+be carried off.
+
+While this was being done the garrison remained under arms behind their
+work at the breach lest any treacherous attempt should be made. The
+mutineers, however, who were evidently much depressed by the
+failure, carried the bodies off quietly, and at twelve o’clock firing
+recommenced.
+
+That evening, after it was dark, the men gathered on the terrace.
+
+“Well, gentlemen,” the Major said, “we have beaten them off today, and
+we may do it again, but there is no doubt how it must all end. You see,
+this afternoon their guns have all been firing at a fresh place in the
+wall; and if they make another breach or two, and attack at them all
+together, it will be hopeless to try to defend them. You see, now that
+we have several sick and wounded, the notion of making our escape is
+almost knocked on the head. At the last moment each may try to save his
+life, but there must be no desertion of the sick and wounded as long as
+there is a cartridge to be fired. Our best hope is in getting assistance
+from somewhere, but we know nothing of what is going on outside. I think
+the best plan will be for one of our number to try to make his way out,
+and go either to Lucknow, Agra, or Allahabad, and try and get help.
+If they could spare a troop of cavalry it might be sufficient; the
+mutineers have suffered very heavily; there were over a hundred and
+fifty bodies carried out today, and if attacked suddenly I don’t think
+they would make any great resistance. We may hold out for a week or ten
+days, but I think that is the outside; and if rescue does not arrive by
+that time we must either surrender or try to escape by that passage.”
+
+There was a general assent.
+
+“Bathurst would be the man to do it,” the Doctor said. “Once through
+their lines he could pass without exciting the slightest suspicion;
+he could buy a horse then, and could be at any of the stations in two
+days.”
+
+“Yes, there is no doubt that he is the man to do it,” the Major said.
+“Where is he now?”
+
+“At work as usual, Major; shall I go and speak to him? But I tell you
+fairly I don’t think he will undertake it.”
+
+“Why not, Doctor? It is a dangerous mission, but no more dangerous than
+remaining here.”
+
+“Well, we shall see,” the Doctor said, as he left the group.
+
+Nothing was said for a few minutes, the men sitting or lying about
+smoking. Presently the Doctor returned.
+
+“Bathurst refuses absolutely,” he said. “He admits that he does not
+think there would be much difficulty for him to get through, but he is
+convinced that the mission would be a useless one, and that could help
+have been spared it would have come to us before now.”
+
+“But in that case he would have made his escape,” the Major said.
+
+“That is just why he won’t go, Major; he says that come what will he
+will share the fate of the rest, and that he will not live to be pointed
+to as the one man who made his escape of the garrison of Deennugghur.”
+
+“Whom can we send?” the Major said. “You are the only other man who
+speaks the language well enough to pass as a native, Doctor.”
+
+“I speak it fairly, but not well enough for that; besides, I am too old
+to bear the fatigue of riding night and day; and, moreover, my services
+are wanted here both as a doctor and as a rifle shot.”
+
+“I will go, if you will send me, Major,” Captain Forster said suddenly;
+“not in disguise, but in uniform, and on my horse’s back. Of course I
+should run the gauntlet of their sentries. Once through, I doubt if they
+have a horse that could overtake mine.”
+
+There was a general silence of surprise. Forster’s reckless courage was
+notorious, and he had been conspicuous for the manner in which he had
+chosen the most dangerous points during the siege; and this offer to
+undertake what, although a dangerous enterprise in itself, still offered
+a far better chance of life than that of remaining behind, surprised
+everyone. It had been noticed that, since the rejection of his plan to
+sally out in a body and cut their way through the enemy, he had been
+moody and silent, except only when the fire was heavy and the danger
+considerable; then he laughed and joked and seemed absolutely to enjoy
+the excitement; but he was the last man whom any of them would have
+expected to volunteer for a service that, dangerous as it might be, had
+just been refused by Bathurst on the ground that it offered a chance of
+escape from the common lot.
+
+The Major was the first to speak.
+
+“Well, Captain Forster, as we have just agreed that our only chance
+is to obtain aid from one of the stations, and as you are the only
+volunteer for the service, I do not see that I can decline to accept
+your offer. At which station do you think you would be most likely to
+find a force that could help us?”
+
+“I should say Lucknow, Major. If help is to be obtained anywhere, I
+should say it was there.”
+
+“Yes, I think that is the most hopeful. You will start at once; I
+suppose the sooner the better.”
+
+“As soon as they are fairly asleep; say twelve o’clock.”
+
+“Very well. I will go and write a dispatch for you to carry, giving an
+account of the fix we are in here. How will you sally out?”
+
+“I should think the easiest plan would be to make a gap in the sandbags
+in the breach, lead the horse till fairly outside, and then mount.”
+
+“I think you had better take a spare horse with you,” the Doctor said;
+“it will make a difference if you are chased, if you can change from one
+to the other. Bathurst told me to say whoever went could have his horse,
+which is a long way the best in the station. I should fancy as good as
+your own.”
+
+“I don’t know,” Forster said; “led horses are a nuisance; still, as you
+say, it might come in useful, if it is only to loose and turn down a
+side road, and so puzzle anyone who may be after you in the dark.”
+
+The Major and Forster left the roof together.
+
+“Well, that is a rum go,” Wilson said. “If it had been anyone but
+Forster I should have said that he funked and was taking the opportunity
+to get out of it, but everyone knows that he has any amount of pluck;
+look how he charged those Sepoys single handed.”
+
+“There are two sorts of pluck, Wilson,” the Doctor said dryly. “There is
+the pluck that will carry a man through a desperate action and lead him
+to do deeds that are the talk of an army. Forster possesses that kind of
+pluck in an unusual degree. He is almost an ideal cavalryman--dashing,
+reckless; riding with a smile on his lips into the thickest of the fray,
+absolutely careless of life when his blood is up.
+
+“There is another sort of courage, that which supports men under long
+continued strain, and enables them, patiently and steadfastly, to face
+death when they see it approaching step by step. I doubt whether Forster
+possesses that passive sort of courage. He would ride up to a cannon’s
+mouth, but would grow impatient in a. square of infantry condemned to
+remain inactive under a heavy artillery fire.
+
+“No one has changed more since this siege began than he has. Except when
+engaged under a heavy fire he has been either silent, or impatient and
+short tempered, shirking conversation even with women when his turn
+of duty was over. Mind, I don’t say for a moment that I suspect him of
+being afraid of death; when the end came he would fight as bravely
+as ever, and no one could fight more bravely. But he cannot stand the
+waiting; he is always pulling his mustache moodily and muttering to
+himself; he is good to do but not to suffer; he would make a shockingly
+bad patient in a long illness.
+
+“Well, if any of you have letters you want to write to friends in
+England I should advise you to take the opportunity; mind, I don’t think
+they will ever get them. Forster may get through, but I consider the
+chances strongly against it. For a ride of ten miles through a country
+swarming with foes I could choose no messenger I would rather trust, but
+for a ride like this, that requires patience and caution and resource,
+he is not the man I should select. Bathurst would have succeeded almost
+certainly if he had once got out. The two men are as different as light
+to dark; one possesses just the points the other fails in. I have no one
+at home I want to write to, so I will undertake the watch here.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+
+The men on descending from the roof found all the ladies engaged in
+writing, the Major having told them that there was a chance of their
+letters being taken out. Scarce one looked up as they entered; their
+thoughts at the moment were at home with those to whom they were writing
+what might well be their last farewells. Stifled sobs were heard in the
+quiet room; mournful letters were blurred with tears even from eyes that
+had not before been dimmed since the siege began.
+
+Isobel Hannay was the first to finish, for her letter to her mother was
+but a short one. As she closed it she looked up. Captain Forster was
+standing at the other side of the table with his eyes fixed on her,
+and he made a slight gesture to her that he wished to speak to her. She
+hesitated a moment, and then rose and quietly left the room. A moment
+later he joined her outside.
+
+“Come outside,” he said, “I must speak to you;” and together they went
+out through the passage into the courtyard.
+
+“Isobel,” he began, “I need not tell you that I love you; till lately
+I have not known how much, but I feel now that I could not live without
+you.”
+
+“Why are you going away then, Captain Forster?” she asked quietly.
+
+“I don’t want to go alone,” he said; “I cannot go alone--I want you to
+go with me. Your uncle would surely consent; it is the only chance of
+saving your life. We all know that it is next to hopeless that a force
+sufficient to rescue us can be sent; there is just a chance, but that is
+all that can be said. We could be married at Allahabad. I would make for
+that town instead of Lucknow if you will go with me, and I could leave
+you there in safety till these troubles are over; I am going to take
+another horse as well as my own, and two would be as likely to escape as
+one.”
+
+“Thank you for the offer, Captain Forster,” she said coldly, “but I
+decline it. My place is here with my uncle and the others.”
+
+“Why is it?” he asked passionately. “If you love me, your place is
+surely with me; and you do love me, Isobel, do you not? Surely I have
+not been mistaken.”
+
+Isobel was silent for a moment.
+
+“You were mistaken, Captain Forster,” she said, after a pause. “You paid
+me attentions such as I had heard you paid to many others, and it was
+pleasant. That you were serious I did not think. I believed you were
+simply flirting with me; that you meant no more by it than you had meant
+before; and being forewarned, and therefore having no fear that I should
+hurt myself more than you would, I entered into it in the same spirit.
+Where there was so much to be anxious about, it was a pleasure and
+relief. Had I met you elsewhere, and under different circumstances, I
+think I should have come to love you. A girl almost without experience
+and new to the world, as I am, could hardly have helped doing so,
+I think. Had I thought you were in earnest I should have acted
+differently; and if I have deceived you by my manner I am sorry; but
+even had I loved you I would not have consented to do the thing you ask
+me. You are going on duty. You are going in the hope of obtaining aid
+for us. I should be simply escaping while others stay, and I should
+despise myself for the action. Besides; I do not think that even in that
+case my uncle would have consented to my going with you.”
+
+“I am sure that he would,” Forster broke in. “He would never be mad
+enough to refuse you the chance of escape from such a fate as may now
+await you.”
+
+“We need not discuss the question,” she said. “Even if I loved you, I
+would not go with you; and I do not love you.”
+
+“They have prejudiced you against me,” he said angrily.
+
+“They warned me, and they were right in doing so. Ask yourself if they
+were not. Would you see a sister of yours running the risk of breaking
+her heart without warning her? Do not be angry,” she went on, putting
+her hand on his arm. “We have been good friends, Captain Forster, and I
+like you very much. We may never meet again; it is most likely we never
+shall do so. I am grateful to you for the many pleasant hours you have
+given me. Let us part thus.”
+
+“Can you not give some hope that in the distance, when these troubles
+are over, should we both be spared, you may--”
+
+“No, Captain Forster, I am sure it could never be so; if we ever meet
+again, we will meet as we part now--as friends. And now I can stay no
+longer; they will be missing me,” and, turning, she entered the house
+before he could speak again.
+
+It was some minutes before he followed her. He had not really thought
+that she would go with him; perhaps he had hardly wished it, for on
+such an expedition a woman would necessarily add to the difficulty and
+danger; but he had thought that she would have told him that his love
+was returned, and for perhaps the first time in his life he was serious
+in his protestation of it.
+
+“What does it matter?” he said at last, as he turned; “’tis ten thousand
+to one against our meeting again; if we do, I can take it up where it
+breaks off now. She has acknowledged that she would have liked me if she
+had been sure that I was in earnest. Next time I shall be so. She was
+right. I was but amusing myself with her at first, and had no more
+thought of marrying her than I had of flying. But there, it is no use
+talking about the future; the thing now is to get out of this trap. I
+have felt like a rat in a cage with a terrier watching me for the last
+month, and long to be on horseback again, with the chance of making a
+fight for my life. What a fool Bathurst was to throw away the chance!”
+
+Bathurst, his work done, had looked into the hall where the others were
+gathered, and hearing that the Doctor was alone on watch had gone up to
+him.
+
+“I was just thinking, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, as he joined him,
+“about that fight today. It seems to me that whatever comes of this
+business, you and I are not likely to be among those who go down when
+the place is taken.”
+
+“How is that, Doctor? Why is our chance better than the rest? I have no
+hope myself that any will be spared.”
+
+“I put my faith in the juggler, Bathurst. Has it not struck you that the
+first picture you saw has come true?”
+
+“I have never given it a thought for weeks,” Bathurst said; “certainly
+I have not thought of it today. Yes, now you speak of it, it has come
+true. How strange! I put it aside as a clever trick--one that I could
+not understand any more than I did the others, but, knowing myself,
+it seemed beyond the bounds of possibility that it could come true.
+Anything but that I would have believed, but, as I told you, whatever
+might happen in the future, I should not be found fighting desperately
+as I saw myself doing there. It is true that I did so, but it was only a
+sort of a frenzy. I did not fire a shot, as Wilson may have told you.
+I strove like a man in a nightmare to break the spell that seemed to
+render me powerless to move, but when, for a moment, the firing ceased,
+a weight seemed to fall off me, and I was seized with a sort of passion
+to kill. I have no distinct remembrance of anything until it was all
+over. It was still the nightmare, but one of a different kind, and I
+was no more myself then than I was when I was lying helpless on the
+sandbags. Still, as you say, the picture was complete; at least, if Miss
+Hannay was standing up here.”
+
+“Yes, she rose to her feet in the excitement of the fight. I believe we
+all did so. The picture was true in all its details as you described it
+to me. And that being so, I believe that other picture, the one we saw
+together, you and I and Isobel Hannay in native disguises, will also
+come true.”
+
+Bathurst was silent for two or three minutes.
+
+“It may be so, Doctor--Heaven only knows. I trust for your sake and hers
+it may be so, though I care but little about myself; but that picture
+wasn’t a final one, and we don’t know what may follow it.”
+
+“That is so, Bathurst. But I think that you and I, once fairly away in
+disguise, might be trusted to make our way down the country. You see,
+we have a complete confirmation of that juggler’s powers. He showed me a
+scene in the past--a scene which had not been in my mind for years, and
+was certainly not in my thoughts at the time. He showed you a scene in
+the future, which, unlikely as it appeared, has actually taken place. I
+believe he will be equally right in this other picture. You have heard
+that Forster is going?”
+
+“Yes; Wilson came down and told me while I was at work. Wilson seemed
+rather disgusted at his volunteering. I don’t know that I am surprised
+myself, for, as I told you, I knew him at school, and he had no moral
+courage, though plenty of physical. Still, under the circumstances, I
+should not have thought he would have gone.”
+
+“You mean because of Miss Hannay, Bathurst?”
+
+“Yes, that is what I mean.”
+
+“That sort of thing might weigh with you or me, Bathurst, but not with
+him. He has loved and ridden away many times before this, but in this
+case, fortunately, I don’t think he will leave an aching heart behind
+him.”
+
+“You don’t mean to say, Doctor, that you don’t think she cares for him?”
+
+“I have not asked her the question,” the Doctor said dryly. “I dare say
+she likes him; in fact, I am ready to admit that there has been what you
+may call a strong case of flirtation; but when a young woman is
+thrown with an uncommonly good looking man, who lays himself out to be
+agreeable to her, my experience is that a flirtation generally comes
+of it, especially when the young woman has no one else to make herself
+agreeable to, and is, moreover, a little sore with the world in general.
+I own that at one time I was rather inclined to think that out of sheer
+perverseness the girl was going to make a fool of herself with that good
+looking scamp, but since we have been shut up here I have felt easy in
+my mind about it. And now, if you will take my rifle for ten minutes,
+I will go down and get a cup of tea; I volunteered to take sentry work,
+but I didn’t bargain for keeping it all night without relief. By the
+way, I told Forster of your offer of your horse, and I think he is going
+to take it.”
+
+“He is welcome to it,” Bathurst said carelessly; “it will be of no use
+to me.”
+
+“Now, look here,” the Doctor said shortly; “just put Miss Hannay out of
+your head for the present, and attend to the business on hand. I do not
+think there is much chance of their trying it on again tonight, but they
+may do so, so please to keep a sharp lookout while I am below.”
+
+“I will be careful, Doctor,” Bathurst said, with a laugh; but the Doctor
+had so little faith in his watchfulness that as soon as he went below he
+sent up Wilson to share his guard.
+
+At twelve o’clock the sandbags were removed sufficiently to allow a
+horse to pass through, and Forster’s and Bathurst’s animals were led
+out through the breach, their feet having been muffled with blankets to
+prevent their striking a stone and arousing the attention of the enemy’s
+sentinels. Once fairly out the mufflings were removed and Forster sprang
+into his saddle.
+
+“Goodby, Major,” he said; “I hope I may be back again in eight or nine
+days with a squadron of cavalry.”
+
+“Goodby, Forster; I hope it may be so. May God protect you!”
+
+The gap in the defenses was closed the instant the horses passed
+through, and the men stood in the breach of the wall listening as
+Forster rode off. He went at a walk, but before he had gone fifty paces
+there was a sharp challenge, followed almost instantly by a rifle shot,
+then came the crack of a revolver and the rapid beat of galloping hoofs.
+Loud shouts were heard, and musket shots fired in rapid succession.
+
+“They are not likely to have hit him in the dark,” the Major said, as
+he climbed back over the sandbags; “but they may hit his horses, which
+would be just as fatal.”
+
+Leaving two sentries--the one just outside the breach near the wall,
+the other on the sandbags--the rest of the party hurried up on the
+roof. Shots were still being fired, and there was a confused sound of
+shouting; then a cavalry trumpet rang out sharply, and presently three
+shots fired in quick succession came upon the air.
+
+“That is the signal agreed on,” the Major said: “he is safely beyond
+their lines. Now it is a question of riding; some of the cavalry will be
+in pursuit of him before many minutes are over.”
+
+Forster’s adieus had been brief. He had busied himself up to the last
+moment in looking to the saddling of the two horses, and had only gone
+into the house and said goodby to the ladies just when it was time to
+start. He had said a few hopeful words as to the success of the mission,
+but it had evidently needed an effort for him to do so. He had no
+opportunity of speaking a word apart with Isobel, and he shook her hand
+silently when it came to her turn.
+
+“I should not have given him credit for so much feeling,” Mrs. Doolan
+whispered to Isobel, as he went out; “he was really sorry to leave us,
+and I didn’t think he was a man to be sorry for anything that didn’t
+affect himself. I think he had absolutely the grace to feel a little
+ashamed of leaving us.”
+
+“I don’t think that is fair,” Isobel said warmly, “when he is going away
+to fetch assistance for us.”
+
+“He is deserting us as rats desert a sinking ship,” Mrs. Doolan said
+positively; “and I am only surprised that he has the grace to feel a
+little ashamed of the action. As for caring, there is only one person in
+the world he cares for--himself. I was reading ‘David Copperfield’
+just before we came in here, and Steerforth’s character might have been
+sketched from Forster. He is a man without either heart or conscience;
+a man who would sacrifice everything to his own pleasures; and yet even
+when one knows him to be what he is, one can hardly help liking him. I
+wonder how it is, my dear, that scamps are generally more pleasant than
+good men?”
+
+“I never thought about it, Mrs. Doolan,” Isobel said, roused to a smile
+by the earnestness with which Mrs. Doolan propounded the problem; “and
+can give no reason except that we are attracted by natures the reverse
+of our own.”
+
+Mrs. Doolan laughed.
+
+“So you think we are better than men, Isobel? I don’t--not one bit. We
+are cramped in our opportunities; but given equal opportunities I don’t
+think there would be anything to choose between us. But we mustn’t stay
+talking here any longer; we both go on duty in the sick ward at four
+o’clock.”
+
+The enemy’s batteries opened on the following morning more violently
+than before. More guns had been placed in position during the night, and
+a rain of missiles was poured upon the house. For the next six days the
+position of the besieged became hourly worse. Several breaches had been
+made in the wall, and the shots now struck the house, and the inmates
+passed the greater part of their time in the basement.
+
+The heat was terrible, and, as the firing was kept up night and
+day, sleep was almost impossible. The number of the besiegers had
+considerably increased, large numbers of the country people taking part
+in the siege, while a regiment of Sepoys from Cawnpore had taken the
+place of the detachment of the 103d Bengal Infantry, of whom, indeed,
+but few now remained.
+
+The garrison no longer held the courtyard. Several times masses of the
+enemy had surged up and poured through the breaches, but a large number
+of hand grenades of various sizes had been constructed by the defenders,
+and the effects of these thrown down from the roof among the crowded
+masses were so terrible that the natives each time fell back. The horses
+had all been turned out through the breach on the day after Captain
+Forster’s departure, in order to save their lives. A plague of flies
+was not the least of the defenders’ troubles. After the repulse of the
+assaults the defenders went out at night and carried the bodies of the
+natives who had fallen in the courtyard beyond the wall. Nevertheless,
+the odor of blood attracted such countless swarms of flies that the
+ground was black with them, and they pervaded the house in legions.
+
+The number of the defenders decreased daily. Six only were able now to
+carry arms. Mr. Hunter, Captain Rintoul, and Richards had died of fever.
+Farquharson had been killed by a cannon ball; two civilians had been
+badly wounded; several of the children had succumbed; Amy Hunter had
+been killed by a shell that passed through the sandbag protection of the
+grating that gave light to the room in the basement used as a sick
+ward. The other ladies were all utterly worn out with exhaustion,
+sleeplessness, and anxiety. Still there had been no word spoken of
+surrender. Had the men been alone they would have sallied out and
+died fighting, but this would have left the women at the mercy of the
+assailants.
+
+The work at the gallery had been discontinued for some time. It had been
+carried upwards until a number of roots in the earth showed that they
+were near the surface, and, as they believed, under a clump of bushes
+growing a hundred and fifty yards beyond the walls; but of late there
+had been no talk of using this. Flight, which even at first had seemed
+almost hopeless, was wholly beyond them in their present weakened
+condition.
+
+On the last of these six days Major Hannay was severely wounded. At
+night the enemy’s fire relaxed a little, and the ladies took advantage
+of it to go up onto the terrace for air, while the men gathered for a
+council round the Major’s bed.
+
+“Well, Doctor, the end is pretty near,” he said; “it is clear we cannot
+hold out many hours longer. We must look the matter in the face now. We
+have agreed all along that when we could no longer resist we would offer
+to surrender on the terms that our lives should be spared, and that we
+should be given safe conduct down the country, and that if those terms
+were refused we were to resist to the end, and then blow up the house
+and all in it. I think the time has come for raising the white flag.”
+
+“I think so,” the Doctor said: “we have done everything men could do.
+I have little hope that they will grant us terms of surrender; for from
+the native servants who have deserted us they must have a fair idea of
+our condition. What do you think, Bathurst?”
+
+“I think it probable there are divisions among them,” he replied; “the
+Talookdars may have risen against us, but I do not think they can have
+the same deadly enmity the Sepoys have shown. They must be heartily sick
+of this prolonged siege, and they have lost large numbers of their men.
+I should say they would be willing enough to give terms, but probably
+they are overruled by the Sepoys, and perhaps by orders from Nana Sahib.
+I know several of them personally, and I think I could influence Por
+Sing, who is certainly the most powerful of the Zemindars of this
+neighborhood, and is probably looked upon as their natural leader; if
+you approve of it, Major, I will go out in disguise, and endeavor to
+obtain an interview with him. He is an honorable man; and if he will
+give his guarantee for our safety, I would trust him. At any rate, I can
+but try. If I do not return, you will know that I am dead, and that no
+terms can be obtained, and can then decide when to end it all.”
+
+“It is worth the attempt anyhow,” the Major said. “I say nothing about
+the danger you will run, for no danger can be greater than that which
+hangs over us all now.”
+
+“Very well, Major, then I will do it at once, but you must not expect me
+back until tomorrow night. I can hardly hope to obtain an interview with
+Por Sing tonight.”
+
+“How will you go out, Bathurst?”
+
+“I will go down at once and break in the roof of the gallery,” he said;
+“we know they are close round the wall, and I could not hope to get out
+through any of the breaches.”
+
+“I suppose you are quite convinced that there is no hope of relief from
+Lucknow?”
+
+“Quite convinced. I never had any real hope of it; but had there been a
+force disposable, it would have started at once if Forster arrived there
+with his message, and might have been here by this time.”
+
+“At any rate, we can wait no longer.”
+
+“Then we will begin at once,” Bathurst said, and, taking a crowbar and
+pick from the place where the tools were kept, he lighted the lamp and
+went along the gallery, accompanied by the Doctor, who carried two light
+bamboo ladders.
+
+“Do you think you will succeed, Bathurst?”
+
+“I am pretty sure of it,” he said confidently. “I believe I have a
+friend there.”
+
+“A friend!” the Doctor repeated in surprise.
+
+“Yes; I am convinced that the juggler is there. Not once, but half a
+dozen times during the last two nights when I have been on watch on the
+terrace, I have distinctly heard the words whispered in my ear, ‘Meet me
+at your bungalow.’ You may think I dozed off and was dreaming, but I
+was as wide awake then as I am now. I cannot say that I recognized the
+voice, but the words were in the dialect he speaks. At any rate, as soon
+as I am out I shall make my way there, and shall wait there all night
+on the chance of his coming. After what we know of the man’s strange
+powers, there seems nothing unreasonable to me in his being able to
+impress upon my mind the fact that he wants to see me.”
+
+“I quite agree with you there, and his aid might be invaluable. You are
+not the sort of man to have delusions, Bathurst, and I quite believe
+what you say. I feel more hopeful now than I have done for some time.”
+
+An hour’s hard work, and a hole was made through the soil, which was but
+three feet thick. Bathurst climbed up the ladder and looked out.
+
+“It is as we thought, Doctor; we are in the middle of that thicket. Now
+I will go and dress if you will keep guard here with your rifle.”
+
+At the end of the gallery a figure was standing; it was Isobel Hannay.
+
+“I have heard you are going out again, Mr. Bathurst.”
+
+“Yes, I am going to see what I can do in the way of making terms for
+us.”
+
+“You may not come back again,” she said nervously.
+
+“That is, of course, possible, Miss Hannay, but I do not think the risk
+is greater than that run by those who stay here.”
+
+“I want to speak to you before you go,” she said; “I have wanted to
+speak so long, but you have never given me an opportunity. We may never
+meet again, and I must tell you how sorry I am--how sorry I have been
+ever since for what I said. I spoke as a foolish girl, but I know better
+now. Have I not seen how calm you have been through all our troubles,
+how you have devoted yourself to us and the children, how you have kept
+up all our spirits, how cheerfully you have worked, and as our trouble
+increased we have all come to look up to you and lean upon you. Do say,
+Mr. Bathurst, that you forgive me, and that if you return we can be
+friends as we were before.”
+
+“Certainly I forgive you if there is anything to forgive, Miss Hannay,”
+ he said gravely. “Nothing that you or anyone can say can relieve me of
+the pain of knowing that I have been unable to take any active part in
+your defense, that I have been forced to play the part of a woman rather
+than a man; but assuredly, if I return, I shall be glad to be again your
+friend, which, indeed. I have never ceased to be at heart.”
+
+Perhaps she expected something more, but it did not come. He spoke
+cordially, but yet as one who felt that there was an impassible barrier
+between them. She stood irresolute for a moment, and then held out her
+hand. “Goodby, then,” she said.
+
+He held it a moment. “Goodby, Miss Hannay. May God keep you and guard
+you.”
+
+Then gently he led her to the door, and they passed out together. A
+quarter of an hour later he rejoined the Doctor, having brought with him
+a few short lengths of bamboo.
+
+“I will put these across the hole when I get out,” he said, “lay some
+sods over them, and cover them up with leaves, in case anyone should
+enter the bushes tomorrow. It is not likely, but it is as well to take
+the precaution. One of you had better stay on guard until I come back.
+It would not do to trust any of the natives; those that remain are all
+utterly disheartened and broken down, and might take the opportunity
+of purchasing their lives by going out and informing the enemy of the
+opening into the gallery. They must already know of its existence from
+the men who have deserted. But, fortunately, I don’t think any of them
+are aware of its exact direction; if they had been, we should have had
+them countermining before this.”
+
+Having carefully closed up the opening, Bathurst went to the edge of the
+bushes and listened. He could hear voices between him and the house,
+but all was quiet near at hand, and he began to move noiselessly along
+through the garden. He had no great fear of meeting with anyone here.
+The natives had formed a cordon round the wall, and behind that there
+would be no one on watch, and as the batteries were silent, all were
+doubtless asleep there. In ten minutes he stood before the charred
+stumps that marked the site of his bungalow. As he did so, a figure
+advanced to meet him.
+
+“It is you, sahib. I was expecting you. I knew that you would come this
+evening.”
+
+“I don’t know how you knew it but I am heartily glad to see you.”
+
+“You want to see Por Sing? Come along with me and I will take you to
+him; but there is no time to lose;” and without another word he walked
+rapidly away, followed by Bathurst.
+
+When they got into the open the latter could see that his companion was
+dressed in an altogether different garb to that in which he had before
+seen him, being attired as a person of some rank and importance. He
+stopped presently for Bathurst to come up with him.
+
+“I have done what I could to prepare the way for you,” he said. “Openly
+I could for certain reasons do nothing, but I have said enough to make
+him feel uncomfortable about the future, and to render him anxious to
+find a way of escape for himself if your people should ever again get
+the mastery.”
+
+“How are things going, Rujub? We have heard nothing for three weeks. How
+is it at Cawnpore?”
+
+“Cawnpore has been taken by the Nana. They surrendered on his solemn
+oath that all should be allowed to depart in safety. He broke his oath,
+and there are not ten of its defenders alive. The women are all in
+captivity.”
+
+Bathurst groaned. He had hardly hoped that the handful of defenders
+could have maintained themselves against such overpowering numbers, but
+the certainty as to their fate was a heavy blow.
+
+“And Lucknow?” he asked.
+
+“The Residency holds out at present, but men say that it must soon
+fall.”
+
+“And what do you say?”
+
+“I say nothing,” the man said; “we cannot use our art in matters which
+concern ourselves.”
+
+“And Delhi?”
+
+“There is a little force of whites in front of Delhi; there are tens of
+thousands of Sepoys in the town, but as yet the whites have maintained
+themselves. The chiefs of the Punjaub have proved faithless to their
+country, and there the British rule is maintained.”
+
+“Thank God for that!” Bathurst exclaimed; “as long as the Punjaub holds
+out the tables may be turned. And the other Presidencies?”
+
+“Nothing as yet,” Rujub said, in a tone of discontent.
+
+“Then you are against us, Rujub?”
+
+The man stopped.
+
+“Sahib, I know not what I wish now. I have been brought up to hate the
+whites. Two of my father’s brothers were hung as Thugs, and my father
+taught me to hate the men who did it. For years I have worked quietly
+against you, as have most of those of my craft. We have reason to hate
+you. In the old times we were honored in the land--honored and feared;
+for even the great ones knew that we had powers such as no other men
+have. But the whites treat us as if we were mere buffoons, who play
+for their amusement; they make no distinction between the wandering
+conjurer, with his tricks of dexterity, and the masters, who have powers
+that have been handed down from father to son for thousands of years,
+who can communicate with each other though separated by the length of
+India; who can, as you have seen, make men invisible; who can read
+the past and the future. They see these things, and though they cannot
+explain them, they persist in treating us all as if we were mere
+jugglers.
+
+“They prefer to deny the evidence of their own senses rather than admit
+that we have powers such as they have not; and so, even in the eyes of
+our own countrymen, we have lost our old standing and position, while
+the whites would bribe us with money to divulge the secrets in which
+they profess to disbelieve. No wonder that we hate you, and that we
+long for the return of the old days, when even princes were glad to ask
+favors at our hands. It is seldom that we show our powers now. Those who
+aid us, and whose servants we are, are not to be insulted by the powers
+they bestow upon us being used for the amusement of men who believe in
+nothing.
+
+“The Europeans who first came to India have left records of the strange
+things they saw at the courts of the native princes. But such things are
+no longer done for the amusement of our white masters. Thus, then, for
+years I have worked against you; and just as I saw that our work was
+successful, just as all was prepared for the blow that was to sweep the
+white men out of India, you saved my daughter; then my work seemed to
+come to an end. Would any of my countrymen, armed only with a whip, have
+thrown themselves in the way of a tiger to save a woman--a stranger--one
+altogether beneath him in rank--one, as it were, dust beneath his feet?
+That I should be ready to give my life for yours was a matter of course;
+I should have been an ungrateful wretch otherwise. But this was not
+enough. At one blow the work I had devoted myself to for years was
+brought to nothing. Everything seemed to me new; and as I sat by my
+daughter’s bedside, when she lay sick with the fever, I had to think it
+all out again. Then I saw things in another light. I saw that, though
+the white men were masterful and often hard, though they had little
+regard for our customs, and viewed our beliefs as superstitious,
+and scoffed at the notion of there being powers of which they had no
+knowledge, yet that they were a great people. Other conquerors, many
+of them, India has had, but none who have made it their first object to
+care for the welfare of the people at large. The Feringhees have wrung
+nothing from the poor to be spent in pomp and display; they permit no
+tyranny or ill doing; under them the poorest peasant tills his fields in
+peace.
+
+“I have been obliged to see all this, and I feel now that their
+destruction would be a frightful misfortune. We should be ruled by our
+native lords; but as soon as the white man was gone the old quarrels
+would break out, and the country would be red with blood. I did not see
+this before, because I had only looked at it with the eyes of my own
+caste; now I see it with the eyes of one whose daughter has been saved
+from a tiger by a white man. I cannot love those I have been taught to
+hate, but I can see the benefit their rule has given to India.
+
+“But what can I do now? I am in the stream, and I must go with it. I
+know not what I wish or what I would do. Six months ago I felt certain.
+Now I doubt. It seemed to me that in a day the English Raj would be
+swept away. How could it be otherwise when the whole army that had
+conquered India for them were against them? I knew they were brave, but
+we have never lacked bravery. How could I tell that they would fight one
+against a hundred?
+
+“But come, let us go on. Por Sing is expecting you. I told him that
+I knew that one from the garrison would come out to treat with him
+privately tonight, and he is expecting you, though he does not know who
+may come.”
+
+Ten minutes walking, and they approached a large tent surrounded by
+several smaller ones. A sentry challenged when they approached, but
+on Rujub giving his name, he at once resumed his walk up and down, and
+Rujub, followed by Bathurst, advanced and entered the tent. The Zemindar
+was seated on a divan smoking a hookah. Rujub bowed, but not with the
+deep reverence of one approaching his superior.
+
+“He is here,” he said.
+
+“Then you were not mistaken, Rujub?”
+
+“How could I be when I knew?” Rujub said. “I have done what I said, and
+have brought him straight to you. That was all I had to do with it; the
+rest is for your highness.”
+
+“I would rather that you should be present,” Por Sing said, as Rujub
+turned to withdraw.
+
+“No,” the latter replied; “in this matter it is for you to decide.
+I know not the Nana’s wishes, and your highness must take the
+responsibility. I have brought him to you rather than to the commander
+of the Sepoys, because your authority should be the greater; it is you
+and the other Oude chiefs who have borne the weight of this siege, and
+it is only right that it is you who should decide the conditions of
+surrender. The Sepoys are not our masters, and it is well they are
+not so; the Nana and the Oude chiefs have not taken up arms to free
+themselves from the English Raj to be ruled over by the men who have
+been the servants of the English.”
+
+“That is so,” the Zemindar said, stroking his beard; “well, I will talk
+with this person.”
+
+Rujub left the tent. “You do not know me, Por Sing?” Bathurst said,
+stepping forward from the entrance where he had hitherto stood; “I am
+the Sahib Bathurst.”
+
+“Is it so?” the Zemindar said, laying aside his pipe and rising to his
+feet; “none could come to me whom I would rather see. You have always
+proved yourself a just officer, and I have no complaint against you. We
+have often broken bread together, and it has grieved me to know that you
+were in yonder house. Do you come to me on your own account, or from the
+sahib who commands?”
+
+“I come on my own account,” Bathurst said; “when I come as a messenger
+from him, I must come openly. I. know you to be an honorable man, and
+that I could say what I have to say to you and depart in safety. I
+regard you as one who has been misled, and regret for your sake that you
+should have been induced to take part with these mutineers against us.
+Believe me, chief, you have been terribly misled. You have been told
+that it needed but an effort to overthrow the British Raj. Those who
+told you so lied. It might have seemed easy to destroy the handful of
+Europeans scattered throughout India, but you have not succeeded in
+doing it. Even had you done so, you would not have so much as begun
+the work. There are but few white soldiers here. Why? Because England
+trusted in the fidelity of her native troops, and thought it necessary
+to keep only a handful of soldiers in India, but if need be, for every
+soldier now here she could send a hundred, and she will send a hundred
+if required to reconquer India. Already you may be sure that ships are
+on the sea laden with troops; and if you find it so hard to overcome the
+few soldiers now here, what would you do against the great armies that
+will pour in ere long? Why, all the efforts of the Sepoys gathered
+at Delhi are insufficient to defeat the four or five thousand British
+troops who hold their posts outside the town, waiting only till the
+succor arrives from England to take a terrible vengeance. Woe be then
+to those who have taken part against us; still more to those whose hands
+are stained with British blood.”
+
+“It is too late now,” the native said gloomily, “the die is cast; but
+since I have seen how a score of men could defend that shattered house
+against thousands, do you think I have not seen that I have been wrong?
+Who would have thought that men could do such a thing? But it is too
+late now.”
+
+“It is not too late,” Bathurst said; “it is too late, indeed, to undo
+the mischief that has been done, but not too late for you to secure
+yourself against some of the consequences. The English are just; and
+when they shall have stamped out this mutiny, as assuredly they will do,
+they will draw a distinction between mutinous soldiers who were false
+to their salt, and native chiefs who fought, as they believed, for the
+independence of their country. But one thing they will not forgive,
+whether in Sepoy or in prince, the murder of man, woman, or child in
+cold blood: for that there will be no pardon.
+
+“But it is not upon that ground that I came to appeal to you, but as
+a noble of Oude--a man who is a brave enemy, but who could never be a
+butcher. We have fought against each other fairly and evenly; the time
+has come when we can fight no longer, and I demand of you, confidently,
+that, if we surrender, the lives of all within those walls shall be
+respected, and a safe conduct be granted them down the country. I know
+that such conditions were granted to the garrison at Cawnpore, and that
+they were shamelessly violated; for that act Nana Sahib will never be
+forgiven. He will be hunted down like a dog and hung when he is caught,
+just as if he had been the poorest peasant. But I have not so bad an
+opinion of the people of India as to believe them base enough to follow
+such an example, and I am confident that if you grant us those terms,
+you will see that the conditions are observed.”
+
+“I have received orders from Nana Sahib to send all prisoners down to
+him,” Por Sing said, in a hesitating voice.
+
+“You will never send down prisoners from here,” Bathurst replied firmly.
+“You may attack us again, and after the loss of the lives of scores more
+of your followers you may be successful, but you will take no prisoners,
+for at the last moment we will blow the house and all in it into the
+air. Besides, who made Nana Sahib your master? He is not the lord of
+Oude; and though doubtless he dreams of sovereignty, it is a rope, not
+a throne, that awaits him. Why should you nobles of Oude obey the orders
+of this peasant boy, though he was adopted by the Peishwa? The Peishwa
+himself was never your lord, and why should you obey this traitor, this
+butcher, this disgrace to India, when he orders you to hand over to him
+the prisoners your sword has made?”
+
+“That is true,” Por Sing said gloomily; “but the Sepoys will not agree
+to the terms.”
+
+“The Sepoys are not your masters,” Bathurst said; “we do not surrender
+to them, but to you. We place no confidence in their word, but we have
+every faith in the honor of the nobles of Oude. If you and your friends
+grant us the terms we ask, the Sepoys may clamor, but they will not
+venture to do more. Neither they nor Nana Sahib dare at this moment
+affront the people of Oude.
+
+“There are Sepoys round Lucknow, but it is the men of Oude who are
+really pressing the siege. If you are firm, they will not dare to break
+with you on such a question as the lives of a score of Europeans. If you
+will give me your word and your honor that all shall be spared, I will
+come out in the morning with a flag of truce to treat with you. If not,
+we will defend ourselves to the last, and then blow ourselves into the
+air.”
+
+“And you think,” Por Sing said doubtfully, “that if I agreed to this, it
+would be taken into consideration should the British Raj be restored.”
+
+“I can promise you that it will,” Bathurst said. “It will be properly
+represented that it is to you that the defenders of Deennugghur, and the
+women and children with them, owe their lives, and you may be sure that
+this will go a very long way towards wiping out the part you have taken
+in the attack on the station. When the day of reckoning comes, the
+British Government will know as well how to reward those who rendered
+them service in these days, as to punish those who have been our foes.”
+
+“I will do it,” Por Sing said firmly. “Do not come out until the
+afternoon. In the morning I will talk with the other Zemindars, and
+bring them over to agree that there shall be no more bloodshed. There is
+not one of us but is heartily sick of this business, and eager to put an
+end to it. Rujub may report what he likes to the Nana, I will do what is
+right.”
+
+After a hearty expression of thanks, Bathurst left the tent. Rujub was
+awaiting him outside.
+
+“You have succeeded?” he asked.
+
+“Yes; he will guarantee the lives of all the garrison, but he seemed to
+be afraid of what you might report to Nana Sahib.”
+
+“I am the Nana’s agent here,” Rujub said; “I have been working with
+him for months. I would I could undo it all now. I was away when they
+surrendered at Cawnpore. Had I not been, that massacre would never have
+taken place, for I am one of the few who have influence with him. He is
+fully cognizant of my power, and fears it.”
+
+They made their way back without interruption to the clump of bushes
+near the house.
+
+“When shall I see you again?” Bathurst asked.
+
+“I do not know,” replied Rujub, “but be sure that I shall be at hand to
+aid you if possible should danger arise.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+
+As soon as Bathurst began to remove the covering of the hole, a voice
+came from below.
+
+“Is that you, Bathurst?”
+
+“All right, Doctor.”
+
+“Heaven be praised! You are back sooner than I expected, by a long way.
+I heard voices talking, so I doubted whether it was you.”
+
+“The ladder is still there, I suppose, Doctor?”
+
+“Yes; it is just as you got off it. What are you going to do about the
+hole?”
+
+“Rujub is here; he will cover it up after me.”
+
+“Then you were right,” the Doctor said, as Bathurst stepped down beside
+him; “and you found the juggler really waiting for you?”
+
+“At the bungalow, Doctor, as I expected.”
+
+“And what have you done? You can hardly have seen Por Sing; it is not
+much over an hour since you left.”
+
+“I have seen him, Doctor; and what is more, he has pledged his word for
+our safety.”
+
+“Thank God for that, lad; it is more than I expected. This will be news
+indeed for the poor women. And do you think he will be strong enough to
+keep his pledge?”
+
+“I think so; he asked me to wait until tomorrow afternoon before going
+out with a flag of truce, and said that by that time he would get the
+other Zemindars to stand by him, and would make terms whether the Sepoys
+liked it or not.”
+
+“Well, you shall tell us all about it afterwards, Bathurst; let us take
+the news in to them at once; it is long since they had good tidings
+of any kind; it would be cruel to keep them in suspense, even for five
+minutes.”
+
+There was no noisy outburst of joy when the news was told. Three weeks
+before it would have been received with the liveliest satisfaction, but
+now the bitterness of death was well nigh past; half the children lay
+in their graves in the garden, scarce one of the ladies but had lost
+husband or child, and while women murmured “Thank God!” as they clasped
+their children to them, the tears ran down as they thought how different
+it would have been had the news come sooner. The men, although equally
+quiet, yet showed more outward satisfaction than the women. Warm grasps
+of the hands were exchanged by those who had fought side by side
+during these terrible days, and a load seemed lifted at once off their
+shoulders.
+
+Bathurst stayed but a moment in the room after this news was told, but
+went in with Dr. Wade to the Major, and reported to him in full the
+conversation that had taken place between himself and Por Sing.
+
+“I think you are right, Bathurst; if the Oude men hold together, the
+Sepoys will scarcely risk a breach with them. Whether he will be able to
+secure our safety afterwards is another thing.”
+
+“I quite see that, Major; but it seems to me that we have no option but
+to accept his offer and hope for the best.”
+
+“That is it,” the Doctor agreed. “It is certain death if we don’t
+surrender; there is a chance that he will be able to protect us if we
+do. At any rate, we can be no worse off than we are here.”
+
+Isobel had been in with Mrs. Doolan nursing the sick children when
+Bathurst arrived, but they presently came out. Isobel shook hands with
+him without speaking.
+
+“We are all heavily indebted to you, Mr. Bathurst,” Mrs. Doolan said.
+“If we escape from this, it will be to you that we humanly owe our
+lives.”
+
+She spoke in a voice that all in the room could hear.
+
+“Your are right, Mrs. Doolan,” the Doctor said; “and I think that there
+are some who must regret now the manner in which they have behaved to
+Bathurst since this siege began.”
+
+“I do for one,” Captain Doolan said, coming forward.
+
+“I have regretted it for some time, though I have not had the manliness
+to say so. I am heartily sorry. I have done you a great and cruel
+injustice. I ought to have known that the Doctor, who knew you vastly
+better than I did, was not likely to be mistaken. Putting that aside,
+I ought to have seen, and I did see, though I would not acknowledge
+it even to myself, that no man has borne himself more calmly and
+steadfastly through this siege than you have, and that by twice
+venturing out among the enemy you gave proof that you possessed as much
+courage as any of us. I do hope that you will give me your hand.”
+
+All the others who had held aloof from Bathurst came forward and
+expressed their deep regret for what had occurred.
+
+Bathurst heard them in silence.
+
+“I do not feel that there is anything to forgive,” he said quietly. “I
+am glad to hear what you say, and I know you mean it, and I accept
+the hands you offer, but what you felt towards me has affected me
+but little, for your contempt for me was as nothing to my contempt of
+myself. Nothing can alter the fact that here, where every man’s hand was
+wanted to defend the ladies and children, my hand was paralyzed;
+that whatever I may be at other times, in the hour of battle I
+fail hopelessly; nothing that I can do can wipe out, from my own
+consciousness, that disgrace.”
+
+“You exaggerate it altogether, Bathurst,” Wilson broke in hotly. “It is
+nonsense your talking like that, after the way you jumped down into the
+middle of them with that mace of yours. It was splendid.”
+
+“More than that, Mr. Bathurst,” Mrs. Doolan said, “I think we women know
+what true courage is; and there is not one of us but has, since this
+siege began, been helped and strengthened by your calmness--not one but
+has reason to be grateful for your kindness to our children during this
+terrible time. I won’t hear even you speak against yourself.”
+
+“Then I will not do so, Mrs. Doolan,” he said, with a grave smile. “And
+now I will go and sit with the Major for a time. Things are quieter
+tonight than they have been for some time past, and I trust he will get
+some sleep.”
+
+So saying, he quietly left the room.
+
+“I don’t believe he has slept two hours at a time since the siege
+began,” Mrs. Doolan said, with tears in her eyes. “We have all
+suffered--God only knows what we have suffered!--but I am sure that he
+has suffered more than any of us. As for you men, you may well say you
+are sorry and ashamed of your treatment of him. Coward, indeed! Mr.
+Bathurst may be nervous, but I am sure he has as much courage as anyone
+here. Come, Isobel, you were up all last night, and it’s past two
+o’clock now. We must try to get a little sleep before morning, and I
+should advise everyone else off duty to do the same.”
+
+At daybreak firing commenced, and was kept up energetically all the
+morning. At two o’clock a white flag was hoisted from the terrace, and
+its appearance was greeted with shouts of triumph by the assailants. The
+firing at once ceased, and in a few minutes a native officer carrying a
+white flag advanced towards the walls.
+
+“We wish to see the Zemindar Por Sing,” Bathurst said, “to treat with
+him upon the subject of our surrender.”
+
+The officer withdrew, and returned in half an hour saying that he would
+conduct the officer in command to the presence of the chief of the
+besieging force. Captain Doolan, therefore, accompanied by Bathurst and
+Dr. Wade, went out. They were conducted to the great tent where all
+the Zemindars and the principal officers of the Sepoys were assembled.
+Bathurst acted as spokesman.
+
+“Por Sing,” he said, “and you Zemindars of Oude, Major Hannay being
+disabled, Captain Doolan, who is now in command of the garrison,
+has come to represent him and to offer to surrender to you under the
+condition that the lives of all British and natives within the walls be
+respected, and that you pledge us your faith and honor that we shall be
+permitted to go down the country without molestation. It is to you, Por
+Sing, and you nobles of Oude, that we surrender, and not to those who,
+being sworn soldiers, have mutinied against their officers, and have in
+many cases treacherously murdered them. With such men Major Hannay will
+have no dealings, and it is to you that we surrender. Major Hannay bids
+me say that if this offer is refused, we can for a long time prolong our
+resistance. We are amply supplied with provisions and munitions of war,
+and many as are the numbers of our assailants who have fallen already,
+yet more will die before you obtain possession of the house. More than
+that, in no case will we be taken prisoners, for one and all have firmly
+resolved to fire the magazine when resistance is no longer possible, and
+to bury ourselves and our assailants in the ruins.”
+
+When Bathurst ceased, a hubbub of voices arose, the Sepoy officers
+protesting that the surrender should be made to them. It was some
+minutes before anything like quietness was restored, and then one of the
+officers said, “Here is Rujub; he speaks in the name of Nana. What does
+he say to this?”
+
+Rujub, who was handsomely attired, stepped forward.
+
+“I have no orders from his highness on this subject,” he said. “He
+certainly said that the prisoners were to be sent to him, but at present
+there are no prisoners, nor, if the siege continues, and the English
+carry out their threat, will there be any prisoners. I cannot think that
+Nana Sahib would wish to see some hundreds more of his countrymen
+slain or blown up, only that he may have these few men and women in his
+power.”
+
+“We have come here to take them and kill them,” one of the officers said
+defiantly; “and we will do so.”
+
+Por Sing, who had been speaking with the Talookdars round him, rose from
+his seat.
+
+“It seems to me that it is for us to decide this matter,” he said. “It
+is upon us that the losses of this siege have fallen. At the order of
+Nana Sahib we collected our retainers, abandoned our homes, and have for
+three weeks supported the dangers of this siege. We follow the Nana, but
+we are not his vassals, nor do we even know what his wishes are in
+this matter, but it seems to us that we have done enough and more than
+enough. Numbers of our retainers and kinsmen have fallen, and to prolong
+the siege would cause greater loss, and what should we gain by it? The
+possession of a heap of stones. Therefore, we are all of opinion that
+this offer of surrender should be accepted. We war for the freedom of
+our country, and have no thirst for the blood of these English sahibs,
+still less for that of their wives and children.”
+
+Some of the officers angrily protested, but Por Sing stood firm, and
+the other chiefs were equally determined. Seeing this, the officers
+consulted together, and the highest in rank then said to the Talookdars,
+“We protest against these conditions being given, but since you are
+resolved, we stand aside, and are ready to agree for ourselves and our
+men to what you may decide.”
+
+“What pledges do you require?” Por Sing asked Bathurst.
+
+“We are content, Rajah, with your personal oath that the lives of all
+within the house shall be respected, and your undertaking that they
+shall be allowed to go unharmed down the country. We have absolute faith
+in the honor of the nobles of Oude, and can desire no better guarantee.”
+
+“I will give it,” Por Sing said, “and all my friends will join me in
+it. Tonight I will have boats collected on the river; I will furnish you
+with an escort of my troops, and will myself accompany you and see you
+safely on board. I will then not only give you a safe conduct, praying
+all to let you pass unharmed, but my son with ten men shall accompany
+you in the boats to inform all that my honor is concerned in your
+safety, and that I have given my personal pledge that no molestation
+shall be offered to you. I will take my oath, and my friends will do the
+same, and I doubt not that the commander of the Sepoy troops will join
+me in it.”
+
+Bathurst translated what had been said to Captain Doolan.
+
+“It is impossible for him to do more than that,” he concluded; “I do not
+think there is the least question as to his good faith.”
+
+“He is a fine old heathen,” Captain Doolan said; “tell him that we
+accept his terms.”
+
+Bathurst at once signified this, and the Rajah then took a solemn oath
+to fulfill the conditions of the agreement, the other Talookdars
+doing the same, and the commander of the Sepoys also doing so without
+hesitation. Por Sing then promised that some carts should be collected
+before morning, to carry the ladies, the sick and wounded, down to the
+river, which was eight miles distant.
+
+“You can sleep in quiet tonight,” he added; “I will place a guard of my
+own men round the house, and see that none trouble you in any way.”
+
+A few other points were settled, and then the party returned to the
+house, to which they were followed a few minutes later by the son of Por
+Sing and three lads, sons of other Zemindars. Bathurst went down to meet
+them when their approach was noticed by the lookout on the roof.
+
+“We have come to place ourselves in your hands as hostages, sahib,” Por
+Sing’s son said. “My father thought it likely that the Sepoys or
+others might make trouble, and he said that if we were in your hands as
+hostages, all our people would see that the agreement must be kept, and
+would oppose themselves more vigorously to the Sepoys.”
+
+“It was thoughtful and kind of your father,” Bathurst said. “As far as
+accommodation is concerned, we can do little to make you comfortable,
+but in other respects we are not badly provided.”
+
+Some of the native servants were at once told off to erect an awning
+over a portion of the terrace. Tables and couches were placed here, and
+Bathurst undertook the work of entertaining the visitors.
+
+He was glad of the precaution that had been taken in sending them, for
+with the glass he could make out that there was much disturbance in
+the Sepoy lines, men gathering in large groups, with much shouting and
+noise. Muskets were discharged in the direction of the house, and it was
+evident that the mutineers were very discontented with the decision that
+had been arrived at.
+
+In a short time, however, a body, several hundred strong, of the Oude
+fighting men moved down and surrounded the house; and when a number of
+the Sepoys approached with excited and menacing gestures, one of the
+Zemindars went out to meet them, and Bathurst, watching the conference,
+could see by his pointing to the roof of the house that he was
+informing them that hostages had been given to the Europeans for the due
+observance of the treaty, and doubted not he was telling them that
+their lives would be endangered by any movement. Then he pointed to the
+batteries, as if threatening that if any attack was made the guns would
+be turned upon them. At any rate, after a time they moved away, and
+gradually the Sepoys could be seen returning to their lines.
+
+There were but few preparations to be made by the garrison for their
+journey. It had been settled that they might take their personal effects
+with them, but it was at once agreed to take as little as possible,
+as there would probably be but little room in the boats, and the fewer
+things they carried the less there would be to tempt the cupidity of the
+natives.
+
+“Well, Bathurst, what do you think of the outlook?” the Doctor asked,
+as late in the evening they sat together on some sandbags in a corner of
+the terrace.
+
+“I think that if we get past Cawnpore in safety there is not much to
+fear. There is no other large place on the river, and the lower we get
+down the less likely the natives are to disturb us, knowing, as they are
+almost sure to do, that a force is gathering at Allahabad.”
+
+“After what you heard of the massacre of the prisoners at Cawnpore, whom
+the Nana and his officers had all sworn to allow to depart in safety,
+there is little hope that this scoundrel will respect the arrangements
+made here.”
+
+“We must pass the place at night, and trust to drifting down
+unobserved--the river is wide there--and keeping near the opposite
+shore, we may get past in the darkness without being perceived; and even
+if they do make us out, the chances are they will not hit us. There are
+so few of us that there is no reason why they should trouble greatly
+about us.”
+
+“I am sorry to say, Bathurst, that I don’t like the appearance of the
+Major’s wound. Everything has been against him; the heat, the close air,
+and his anxiety of mind have all told on him, he seems very low, and I
+have great doubts whether he will ever see Allahabad.”
+
+“I hope you are wrong, Doctor, but I thought myself there was a change
+for the worse when I saw him an hour ago; there was a drawn look about
+his face I did not like. He is a splendid fellow; nothing could have
+been kinder than he has been to me. I wish I could change places with
+him.”
+
+The Doctor grunted. “Well, as none of us may see Allahabad, Bathurst,
+you need not trouble yourself on that score. I wonder what has become
+of your friend the conjurer. I thought he might have been in to see you
+this afternoon.”
+
+“I did not expect him,” Bathurst said; “I expect he went as far as he
+dared in what he said at the Durbar today. Probably he is doing all he
+can to keep matters quiet. Of course he may have gone down to Cawnpore
+to see Nana Sahib, but I should think it more probable that he would
+remain here until he knows we are safe on board the boats.”
+
+“Ah, here is Wilson,” said the Doctor; “he is a fine young fellow, and I
+am very glad he has gone through it safely.”
+
+“So am I,” Bathurst said warmly; “here we are, Wilson.”
+
+“I thought I would find you both smoking here,” Wilson said, as he
+seated himself; “it is awfully hot below, and the ladies are all at
+work picking out the things they are going to take with them and packing
+them, and as I could not be of any use at that, I thought I would come
+up for a little fresh air, if one can call it fresh; but, in fact, I
+would rather sit over an open drain, for the stench is horrible. How
+quiet everything seems tonight! After crouching here for the last three
+weeks listening to the boom of their cannon and the rush of their balls
+overhead, or the crash as they hit something, it seems quite unnatural;
+one can’t help thinking that something is going to happen. I don’t
+believe I shall be able to sleep a wink tonight; while generally, in
+spite of the row, it has been as much as I could do to keep my eyes
+open. I suppose I shall get accustomed to it in time. At present it
+seems too unnatural to enjoy it.”
+
+“You had better get a good night’s sleep, if you can, Wilson,” the
+Doctor said. “There won’t be much sleep for us in the boats till we see
+the walls of Allahabad.”
+
+“I suppose not, Doctor. I expect we shall be horribly cramped up. I long
+to be there. I hope to get attached to one of the regiments coming up,
+so as to help in giving the thrashing to these scoundrels that they
+deserve. I would give a year’s pay to get that villain, Nana Sahib,
+within reach of my sword. It is awful to think of the news you brought
+in, Bathurst, and that there are hundreds of women and children in his
+power now. What a day it will be when we march into Cawnpore!”
+
+“Don’t count your chickens too soon, Wilson,” the Doctor said, “The time
+I am looking forward to is when we shall have safely passed Cawnpore on
+our way down; that is quite enough for me to hope for at present.”
+
+“Yes, I was thinking of that myself,” Wilson replied. “If the Nana
+could not be bound by the oath he had taken himself, he is not likely to
+respect the agreement made here.”
+
+“We must pass the place at night,” Bathurst said, “and trust to not
+being seen. Even if they do make us out, we shan’t be under fire long
+unless they follow us down the bank; but if the night is dark, they may
+not make us out at all. Fortunately there is no moon, and boats are
+not very large marks even by daylight, and at night it would only be a
+chance shot that would hit us.”
+
+“Yes, we should be as difficult to hit as a tiger,” the Doctor put in.
+
+Wilson laughed.
+
+“I have gained a lot of experience since then, Doctor. What ages that
+seems back! Years almost.”
+
+“It does indeed,” the Doctor agreed; “we count time by incidents and not
+by days. Well, I think I shall turn in.. Are you coming, Bathurst?”
+
+“No, I could not sleep,” Bathurst said; “I shall watch till morning. I
+feel sure it is all safe, but the mutineers might attempt something.”
+
+The night, however, passed off quietly, and soon after daybreak eight
+bullock carts were seen approaching, with a strong body of Oude men.
+Half an hour later the luggage was packed, and the sick and wounded laid
+on straw in the wagons. Several of the ladies took their places with
+them, but Mrs. Doolan, Isobel, and Mary Hunter said they would walk for
+a while. It had been arranged that the men might carry out their arms
+with them, and each of the ten able to walk took their rifles, while
+all, even the women, had pistols about them. Just as they were ready,
+Por Sing and several of the Zemindars rode up on horseback.
+
+“We shall see you to the boats,” he said. “Have you taken provisions for
+your voyage? It would be better not to stop to buy anything on the way.”
+
+This precaution had been taken, and as soon as all was ready they set
+out, guarded by four hundred Oude matchlock men. The Sepoys had gathered
+near the house, and as soon as they left it there was a rush made to
+secure the plunder.
+
+“I should have liked to have emptied the contents of some of my bottles
+into the wine,” the Doctor growled; “it would not have been strictly
+professional, perhaps, but it would have been a good action.”
+
+“I am sure you would not have given them poison, Doctor,” Wilson
+laughed; “but a reasonable dose of ipecacuanha might hardly have gone
+against your conscience.”
+
+“My conscience has nothing to do with it,” the Doctor said. “These
+fellows came from Cawnpore, and I have no doubt took part in the
+massacre there. My conscience wouldn’t have troubled me if I could
+have poisoned the whole of the scoundrels, or put a slow match in
+the magazine and blown them all into the air, but under the present
+conditions it would hardly have been politic, as one couldn’t be sure of
+annihilating the whole of them. Well, Miss Hannay, what are you thinking
+of?”
+
+“I am thinking that my uncle looks worse this morning, Doctor; does it
+not strike you so too?”
+
+“We must hope that the fresh air will do him good. One could not expect
+anyone to get better in that place; it was enough to kill a healthy man,
+to say nothing of a sick one.”
+
+Isobel was walking by the side of the cart in which her uncle was lying,
+and it was not long before she took her place beside him.
+
+The Doctor shook his head.
+
+“Can you do nothing, Doctor?” Bathurst said, in a low tone.
+
+“Nothing; he is weaker this morning, still the change of air may help
+him, and he may have strength to fight through; the wound itself is a
+serious one, but he would under other circumstances have got over it.
+As it is, I think his chance a very poor one, though I would not say as
+much to her.”
+
+After three hours’ travel they reached the river. Here two large native
+boats were lying by the bank. The baggage and sick were soon placed
+on board, and the Europeans with the native servants were then divided
+between them, and the Rajah’s son and six of the retainers took their
+places in one of the boats. The Doctor and Captain Doolan had settled
+how the party should be divided. The Major and the other sick men were
+all placed in one boat, and in this were the Doctor, Bathurst, and four
+civilians, with Isobel Hannay, Mrs. Hunter, and her daughter. Captain
+Doolan, his wife, Mrs. Rintoul, and the other three ladies, with the six
+children who had alone survived, and the rest of the party, were in the
+other boat.
+
+Por Sing and his companions were thanked heartily for the protection
+they had given, and Bathurst handed them a document which had been
+signed by all the party, testifying to the service they had rendered.
+
+“If we don’t get down to Allahabad,” Bathurst said, as he handed it to
+him, “this will insure you good treatment when the British troops come
+up. If we get there, we will represent your conduct in such a light that
+I think I can promise you that the part you took in the siege will be
+forgiven.”
+
+Then the boats pushed off and started on their way down the stream.
+
+The distance by water to Cawnpore was over forty miles. It was already
+eleven o’clock, and slow progress only could be made with the heavy
+boats, but it was thought that they would be able to pass the town
+before daylight began to break next morning, and they therefore pushed
+on as rapidly as they could, the boatmen being encouraged to use their
+utmost efforts by the promise of a large reward upon their arrival at
+Allahabad.
+
+There was but little talk in the boats. Now that the strain was over,
+all felt its effects severely. The Doctor attended to his patients;
+Isobel sat by the side of her uncle, giving him some broth that they had
+brought with them, from time to time, or moistening his lips with weak
+brandy and water. He spoke only occasionally.
+
+“I don’t much think I shall get down to Allahabad, Isobel,” he said. “If
+I don’t, go down to Calcutta, and go straight to Jamieson and Son; they
+are my agents, and they will supply you with money to take you home;
+they have a copy of my will; my agents in London have another copy. I
+had two made in case of accident.”
+
+“Oh, uncle, you will get better now you are out of that terrible place.”
+
+“I am afraid it is too late, my dear, though I should like to live for
+your sake. But I think I see happiness before you, if you choose to
+take it; he is a noble fellow, Isobel, in spite of that unfortunate
+weakness.”
+
+Isobel made no answer, but a slight pressure of the hand she was holding
+showed that she understood what he meant. It was no use to tell her
+uncle that she felt that what might have been was over now. Bathurst had
+chatted with her several times the evening before and during the march
+that morning, but she felt the difference between his tone and that in
+which he had addressed her in the old times before the troubles began.
+It was a subtle difference that she could hardly have explained even
+to herself, but she knew that it was as a friend, and as a friend only,
+that he would treat her in the future, and that the past was a closed
+book, which he was determined not to reopen.
+
+Bathurst talked to Mrs. Hunter and her daughter, both of whom were mere
+shadows, worn out with grief, anxiety, and watching. At times he went
+forward to talk to the young noble, who had taken his seat there. Both
+boats had been arched in with a canopy of boughs to serve alike as a
+protection from the sun and to screen those within from the sight of
+natives in boats or on the banks.
+
+“You don’t look yourself, Bathurst,” the Doctor said to him late in the
+afternoon. “Everything seems going on well. No boats have passed us, and
+the boatmen all say that we shall pass Cawnpore about one o’clock, at
+the rate at which we are going.”
+
+“I feel nervous, Doctor; more anxious than I have been ever since this
+began. There is an apprehension of danger weighing over me that I can’t
+account for. As you say, everything seems going on well, and yet I feel
+that it is not so. I am afraid I am getting superstitious, but I feel
+as if Rujub knows of some danger impending, and that he is somehow
+conveying that impression to me. I know that there is nothing to be
+done, and that we are doing the only thing that we can do, unless we
+were to land and try and make our way down on foot, which would be sheer
+madness. That the man can in some way impress my mind at a distance
+is evident from that summons he gave me to meet him at the ruins of my
+bungalow, but I do not feel the same clear distinct perception of
+his wishes now as I did then. Perhaps he himself is not aware of the
+particulars of the danger that threatens, or, knowing them, he can see
+no way of escape out of them. It may be that at night, when everything
+is quiet, one’s mind is more open to such impressions than it is when we
+are surrounded by other people and have other things to think of, but I
+feel an actual consciousness of danger.”
+
+“I don’t think there can be any danger until we get down near Cawnpore.
+They may possibly be on the lookout for us there, and may even have
+boats out on the stream. It is possible that the Sepoys may have sent
+down word yesterday afternoon to Nana Sahib that we had surrendered, and
+should be starting by boat this morning, but I don’t think there can
+be any danger till we get there. Should we meet native boats and be
+stopped, Por Sing’s son will be able to induce them to let us pass.
+Certainly none of the villagers about here would be likely to disobey
+him. Once beyond Cawnpore, I believe that he would have sufficient
+influence, speaking, as he does, in the name, not only of his father,
+but of other powerful landowners, to induce any of these Oude people to
+let us pass. No, I regard Cawnpore as our one danger, and I believe it
+to be a very real one. I have been thinking, indeed, that it would be a
+good thing when we get within a couple of miles of the place for all who
+are able to walk, to land on the opposite bank, and make their way along
+past Cawnpore, and take to the boats again a mile below the town.”
+
+“That would be an excellent plan, Doctor; but if the boats were stopped
+and they found the sick, they would kill them to a certainty. I don’t
+think we could leave them. I am quite sure Miss Hannay would not leave
+her uncle.”
+
+“I think we might get over even that, Bathurst. There are only the Major
+and the other two men, and Mrs. Forsyth and three children, too ill to
+walk. There are eight of the native servants, ourselves, and the young
+Rajah’s retainers. We ought to have no difficulty in carrying the
+wounded. As to the luggage, that must be sacrificed, so that the boatmen
+can go down with empty benches. It must be pitched overboard. The loss
+would be of no real consequence; everyone could manage with what they
+have on until we get to Allahabad. There would be no difficulty in
+getting what we require there.”
+
+“I think the plan is an excellent one, Doctor. I will ask the young
+chief if his men will help us to carry the sick. If he says yes, we will
+go alongside the other boat and explain our plan to Doolan.”
+
+The young Rajah at once assented, and the boat being rowed up to the
+other, the plan was explained and approved of. No objection was raised
+by anyone, even to the proposal for getting rid of all the luggage;
+and as soon as the matter was arranged, a general disposition towards
+cheerfulness was manifested. Everyone had felt that the danger of
+passing Cawnpore would be immense, and this plan for avoiding it seemed
+to lift a load from their minds.
+
+It was settled they should land at some spot where the river was
+bordered by bushes and young trees; that stout poles should be cut, and
+blankets fastened between them, so as to form stretchers on which the
+sick could be carried.
+
+As far as possible the boats were kept on the left side of the river,
+but at times shallows rendered it necessary to keep over by the right
+bank. Whenever they were near the shore, silence was observed, lest the
+foreign tongue should be noticed by anyone near the bank.
+
+Night fell, and they still continued their course. An hour after sunset
+they were rowing near the right bank--the Major had fallen into a sort
+of doze, and Isobel was sitting next to Bathurst, and they were talking
+in low tones together--when suddenly there was a hail from the shore,
+not fifty yards away.
+
+“What boats are those?”
+
+“Fishing boats going down the river,” one of the boatmen answered.
+
+“Row alongside, we must examine you.”
+
+There was a moment’s pause, and then the Doctor said in the native
+language, “Row on, men,” and the oars of both boats again dipped into
+the water.
+
+“We are pressed for time,” the young Zemindar shouted, and then,
+dropping his voice, urged the men to row at the top of their speed.
+
+“Stop, or we fire,” came from the shore.
+
+No answer was returned from the boats; they were now nearly opposite the
+speaker. Then came the word--“Fire.” Six cannon loaded with grape were
+discharged, and a crackle of musketry at the same moment broke out. The
+shot tore through the boats, killing and disabling many, and bringing
+down the arbor of boughs upon them.
+
+A terrible cry arose, and all was confusion. Most of the rowers were
+killed, and the boats drifted helplessly amid the storm of rifle
+bullets.
+
+As the cannon flashed out and the grape swept the boats Bathurst, with
+a sharp cry, sprang to his feet, and leaped overboard, as did several
+others from both boats. Diving, he kept under water for some distance,
+and then swam desperately till he reached shallow water on the other
+side of the river, and then fell head foremost on the sand. Eight or
+ten others also gained the shore in a body, and were running towards the
+bank, when the guns were again fired, and all but three were swept away
+by the iron hail. A few straggling musket shots were fired, then orders
+were shouted, and the splashing of an oar was heard, as one of the
+native boatmen rowed one of the two boats toward the shore. Bathurst
+rose to his feet and ran, stumbling like a drunken man, towards the
+bushes, and just as he reached them, fell heavily forward, and lay there
+insensible. Three men came out from the jungle and dragged him in. As
+they did so loud screams arose from the other bank, then half a dozen
+muskets were fired, and all was quiet.
+
+It was not for a quarter of an hour that Bathurst was conscious of what
+was going on around him. Someone was rubbing his chest and hands.
+
+“Who is it?” he asked.
+
+“Oh, it is you, Bathurst!” he heard Wilson’s voice exclaim. “I thought
+it was you, but it is so dark now we are off that white sand that I
+could not see. Where are you hit?”
+
+“I don’t know,” Bathurst said. “I felt a sort of shock as I got out of
+the water, but I don’t know that I am hurt at all.”
+
+“Oh, you must be hit somewhere. Try and move your arms and legs.”
+
+Bathurst moved.
+
+“No, I don’t think I am hit; if I am, it is on the head. I feel
+something warm round the back of my neck.”
+
+“By Jove, yes!” Wilson said; “here is where it is; there is a cut all
+along the top of your head; the bullet seems to have hit you at the
+back, and gone right along over the top. It can’t have gone in, or else
+you would not be able to talk.”
+
+“Help me up,” Bathurst said, and he was soon on his feet. He felt giddy
+and confused. “Who have you with you?” he asked.
+
+“Two natives. I think one is the young chief, and the other is one of
+his followers.”
+
+Bathurst spoke to them in their native language, and found that Wilson
+was not mistaken. As soon as he found that he was understood, the young
+chief poured out a volley of curses upon those who had attacked them.
+
+Bathurst stopped him. “We shall have time for that afterwards, Murad,”
+ he said; “the first thing is to see what had best be done. What has
+happened since I landed, Wilson?”
+
+“Our boat was pretty nearly cut in two,” Wilson said, “and was sinking
+when I jumped over; the other boat has been rowed ashore.”
+
+“What did you hear, Wilson?”
+
+“I heard the women scream,” Wilson said reluctantly, “and five or six
+shots were fired. There has been no sound since then.”
+
+Bathurst stood silent for a minute.
+
+“I do not think they will have killed the women,” he said; “they did not
+do so at Cawnpore. They will take them there. No doubt they killed the
+men. Let me think for a moment. Now,” he said after a long pause, “we
+must be doing. Murad, your father and friends have given their word for
+the safety of those you took prisoners; that they have been massacred
+is no fault of your father or of you. This gentleman and myself are the
+only ones saved, as far as we know. Are you sure that none others came
+ashore?”
+
+“The others were all killed, we alone remaining,” Murad said. “I will go
+back to my father, and he will go to Cawnpore and demand vengeance.”
+
+“You can do that afterwards, Murad; the first thing is to fulfill
+your promise, and I charge you to take this sahib in safety down to
+Allahabad. You must push on at once, for they may be sending out from
+Cawnpore at daylight to search the bushes here to see if any have
+escaped. You must go on with him tonight as far as you can, and in the
+morning enter some village, buy native clothes, and disguise him, and
+then journey on to Allahabad.”
+
+“I will do that,” the young Rajah said; “but what about yourself?”
+
+“I shall go into Cawnpore and try to rescue any they may have taken.
+I have a native cloth round me under my other clothes, as I thought it
+might be necessary for me to land before we got to Cawnpore to see if
+danger threatened us. So I have everything I want for a disguise about
+me.”
+
+“What are you saying, Bathurst?” Wilson asked.
+
+“I am arranging for Murad and his follower to take you down to
+Allahabad, Wilson. I shall stop at Cawnpore.”
+
+“Stop at Cawnpore! Are you mad, Bathurst?”
+
+“No, I am not mad. I shall stop to see if any of the ladies have been
+taken prisoners, and if so, try to rescue them. Rujub, the juggler, is
+there, and I am confident he will help me.”
+
+“But if you can stay, I can, Bathurst. If Miss Hannay has been made
+prisoner, I would willingly be killed to rescue her.”
+
+“I know you would, Wilson, but you would be killed without being able to
+rescue her; and as I should share your fate, you would render her rescue
+impossible. I can speak the native language perfectly, and know native
+ways. I can move about among them without fear of exciting their
+suspicion. If you were with me this would be impossible; the first time
+you were addressed by a native you would be detected; your presence
+would add to my difficulties a hundredfold. It is not now a question of
+fighting. Were it only that, I should be delighted to have you with me.
+As it is, the thing is impossible. If anything is done, I must do it
+alone. If I ever reach Miss Hannay, she shall know that you were ready
+to run all risks to save her. No, no, you must go on to Allahabad, and
+if you cannot save her now, you will be with the force that will save
+her, if I should fail to do so, and which will avenge us both if it
+should arrive too late to rescue her. Now I must get you to bandage my
+head, for I feel faint with loss of blood. I will take off my shirt and
+tear it in strips. I have got a native disguise next to the skin. We may
+as well leave my clothes behind me here.”
+
+As soon as Wilson, with the assistance of Murad, had bandaged the wound,
+the party struck off from the river, and after four hours’ walking came
+down upon it again two miles below Cawnpore. Here Bathurst said he would
+stop, stain his skin, and complete his disguise.
+
+“I hate leaving you,” Wilson said, in a broken voice. “There are only
+you and I left of all our party at Deennugghur. It is awful to think
+they have all gone--the good old chief, the Doctor, and Richards, and
+the ladies. There are only we two left. It does seem such a dirty,
+cowardly thing for me to be making off and leaving you here alone.”
+
+“It is not cowardly, Wilson, for I know you would willingly stay if you
+could be of the slightest use; but, as, on the contrary, you would only
+add to the danger, it must be as I have arranged. Goodby, lad; don’t
+stay; it has to be done. God bless you! Goodby, Murad. Tell your father
+when you see him that I know no shadow of broken faith rests on him.”
+
+So saying, he turned and went into a clump of bushes, while Wilson,
+too overpowered to speak, started on his way down country with the two
+natives.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+
+Now alone, Bathurst threw himself down among the bushes in an attitude
+of utter depression.
+
+“Why wasn’t I killed with the others?” he groaned. “Why was I not killed
+when I sat there by her side?”
+
+So he lay for an hour, and then slowly rose and looked round. There was
+a faint light in the sky.
+
+“It will be light in another hour,” he said to himself, and he again sat
+down. Suddenly he started. Had someone spoken, or had he fancied it?
+
+“Wait till I come.”
+
+He seemed to hear the words plainly, just as he had heard Rujub’s
+summons before.
+
+“That’s it; it is Rujub. How is it that he can make me hear in this way?
+I am sure it was his voice. Anyhow, I will wait. It shows he is thinking
+of me, and I am sure he will help me. I know well enough I could do
+nothing by myself.”
+
+Bathurst assumed with unquestioning faith that Isobel Hannay was alive.
+He had no reason for his confidence. That first shower of grape might
+have killed her as it killed others, but he would not admit the doubt
+in his mind. Wilson’s description of what had happened while he was
+insensible was one of the grounds of this confidence.
+
+He had heard women scream. Mrs. Hunter and her daughter were the only
+other women in the boat. Isobel would not have screamed had those
+muskets been pointed at her, nor did he think the others would have done
+so. They screamed when they saw the natives about to murder those who
+were with them. The three women were sitting together, and if one had
+fallen by the grape shot all would probably have been killed. He felt
+confident, therefore, that she had escaped; he believed he would have
+known it had she been killed.
+
+“If I can be influenced by this juggler, surely I should have felt it
+had Isobel died,” he argued, and was satisfied that she was still alive.
+
+What, however, more than anything else gave him hope was the picture
+on the smoke. “Everything else has come true,” he said to himself; “why
+should not that? Wilson spoke of the Doctor as dead. I will not believe
+it; for if he is dead, the picture is false. Why should that thing of
+all others have been shown to me unless it had been true? What seemed
+impossible to me--that I should be fighting like a brave man--has
+been verified. Why should not this? I should have laughed at such
+superstition six months ago; now I cling to it as my one ground for
+hope. Well, I will wait if I have to stay here until tomorrow night.”
+
+Noiselessly he moved about in the little wood, going to the edge and
+looking out, pacing to and fro with quick steps, his face set in
+a frown, occasionally muttering to himself. He was in a fever of
+impatience. He longed to be doing something, even if that something led
+to his detention and death. He said to himself that he should not care
+so that Isobel Hannay did but know that he had died in trying to rescue
+her.
+
+The sun rose, and he saw the peasants in the fields, and caught the note
+of a bugle sounding from the lines at Cawnpore. At last--it had seemed
+to him an age, but the sun had been up only an hour--he saw a figure
+coming along the river bank. As it approached he told himself that it
+was the juggler; if so, he had laid aside the garments in which he last
+saw him, and was now attired as when they first met. When he saw him
+turn off from the river bank and advance straight towards the wood, he
+had no doubt that it was the man he expected.
+
+“Thanks be to the holy ones that you have escaped, sahib,” Rujub said,
+as soon as he came within speaking distance of Bathurst. “I was in
+an agony last night. I was with you in thought, and saw the boats
+approaching the ambuscade. I saw you leap over and swim to shore. I saw
+you fall, and I cried out. For a moment I thought you were killed. Then
+I saw you go on and fall again, and saw your friends carry you in. I
+watched you recover and come on here, and then I willed it that you
+should wait here till I came for you. I have brought you a disguise, for
+I did not know that you had one with you. But, first of all, sit down
+and let me dress your wound afresh. I have brought all that is necessary
+for it.”
+
+“You are a true fried, Rujub. I relied upon you for aid; do you know why
+I waited here instead of going down with the others?”
+
+“I know, sahib. I can tell your thoughts as easily when you are away
+from me as I can when we are together.”
+
+“Can you do this with all people?”
+
+“No, my lord; to be able to read another’s thoughts it is necessary
+there should be a mystic relation established between them. As I walked
+beside your horse when you carried my daughter before you after saving
+her life, I felt that this relation had commenced, and that henceforward
+our fates were connected. It was necessary that you should have
+confidence in me, and it was for that reason that I showed you some of
+the feats that we rarely exhibit, and proved to you that I possessed
+powers with which you were unacquainted. But in thought reading my
+daughter has greater powers than I have, and it was she who last night
+followed you on your journey, sitting with her hand in mine, so that my
+mind followed hers.”
+
+“Do you know all that happened last night, Rujub?” Bathurst said,
+summoning up courage to ask the question that had been on his lips from
+the first.
+
+“I only know, my lord, that the party was destroyed, save three white
+women, who were brought in just as the sun rose this morning. One
+was the lady behind whose chair you stood the night I performed at
+Deennugghur, the lady about whom you are thinking. I do not know the
+other two; one was getting on in life, the other was a young one.”
+
+The relief was so great that Bathurst turned away, unable for a while to
+continue the conversation. When he resumed the talk, he asked, “Did you
+see them yourself, Rujub?”
+
+“I saw them, sahib; they were brought in on a gun carriage.”
+
+“How did they look, Rujub?”
+
+“The old one looked calm and sad. She did not seem to hear the shouts of
+the budmashes as they passed along. She held the young one close to
+her. That one seemed worn out with grief and terror. Your memsahib sat
+upright; she was very pale and changed from the time I saw her that
+evening, but she held her head high, and looked almost scornfully at the
+men who shook their fists and cried at her.”
+
+“And they put them with the other women that they have taken prisoners?”
+
+Rujub hesitated.
+
+“They have put the other two there, sahib, but her they took to
+Bithoor.”
+
+Bathurst started, and an exclamation of horror and rage burst from him.
+
+“To the Rajah’s!” he exclaimed. “To that scoundrel! Come, let us go. Why
+are we staying here?”
+
+“We can do nothing for the moment. Before I started I sent off my
+daughter to Bithoor; she knows many there, and will find out what is
+being done and bring us word, for I dare not show myself there. The
+Rajah is furious with me because I did not support the Sepoys, and
+suffered conditions to be made with your people, but now that all has
+turned out as he wished, I will in a short time present myself before
+him again, but for the moment it was better that my daughter should go,
+as I had to come to you. But first you had better put on the disguise I
+have brought you. You are too big and strong to pass without notice in
+that peasant’s dress. The one I have brought you is such as is worn
+by the rough people; the budmashes of Cawnpore. I can procure others
+afterwards when we see what had best be done. It will be easy enough to
+enter Bithoor, for all is confusion there, and men come and go as they
+choose, but it will be well nigh impossible for you to penetrate where
+the memsahib will be placed. Even for me, known as I am to all the
+Rajah’s officers, it would be impossible to do so; it is my daughter in
+whom we shall have to trust.”
+
+Bathurst rapidly put on the clothes that Rujub had brought with him, and
+thrust a sword, two daggers, and a brace of long barreled pistols into
+the sash round his waist.
+
+“Your color is not dark enough, sahib. I have brought dye with me; but
+first I must dress the wound on your head, and bandage it more neatly,
+so that the blood stained swathings will not show below the folds of
+your turban.”
+
+Bathurst submitted himself impatiently to Rujub’s hands. The latter cut
+off all the hair that would show under the turban, dyed the skin
+the same color as the other parts, and finally, after darkening his
+eyebrows, eyelashes, and mustache, pronounced that he would pass
+anywhere without attracting attention. Then they started at a quick walk
+along the river, crossed by the ferryboat to Cawnpore, and made their
+way to a quiet street in the native town.
+
+“This is my house for the present,” Rujub said, producing a key and
+unlocking a door. He shouted as he closed the door behind him, and an
+old woman appeared.
+
+“Is the meal prepared?” he asked.
+
+“It is ready,” she said.
+
+“That is right. Tell Rhuman to put the pony into the cart.”
+
+He then led the way into a comfortably furnished apartment where a meal
+was laid.
+
+“Eat, my lord,” he said; “you need it, and will require your strength.”
+
+Bathurst, who, during his walk, had felt the effects of the loss of
+blood and anxiety, at once seated himself at the table and ate, at first
+languidly, but as appetite came, more heartily, and felt still more
+benefited by a bottle of excellent wine Rujub had placed beside him. The
+latter returned to the room just as he had finished. He was now attired
+as he had been when Bathurst last met him at Deennugghur.
+
+“I feel another man, Rujub, and fit for anything.”
+
+“The cart is ready,” Rujub said. “I have already taken my meal; we do
+not eat meat, and live entirely on vegetables. Meat clouds the senses,
+and simple food, and little of it, is necessary for those who would
+enter the inner brotherhood.”
+
+At the door a small native cart was standing with a pony in the shafts.
+
+“You will go with us, Rhuman,” Rujub said, as he and Bathurst took their
+seats in the cart.
+
+The boy squatted down at Rujub’s feet, taking the reins and whip, and
+the pony started off at a brisk pace. Upon the way Rujub talked of
+various matters, of the reports of the force that was gathering at
+Allahabad, and the madness of the British in supposing that two or three
+thousand men could withstand the forces of the Nana.
+
+“They would be eaten up,” he said; “the troops will go out to meet them;
+they will never arrive within sight of Cawnpore.”
+
+As Bathurst saw that he was talking for the boy to hear, rather than to
+himself, he agreed loudly with all that he said, and boasted that even
+without the Nana’s troops and the Sepoys, the people of Cawnpore could
+cut the English dogs to pieces.
+
+The drive was not a long one, and the road was full of parties going
+to or returning from Bithoor--groups of Sepoy officers, parties of
+budmashes from Cawnpore, mounted messengers, landowners with their
+retainers, and others. Arriving within a quarter of a mile of the
+palace, Rujub ordered the boy to draw aside.
+
+“Take the horse down that road,” he said, “and wait there until we
+return. We may be some time. If we are not back by the time the sun
+sets, you will return home.”
+
+As they approached the palace Bathurst scanned every window, as if he
+hoped to see Isobel’s face at one of them. Entering the garden, they
+avoided the terrace in front of the house, and sauntering through the
+groups of people who had gathered discussing the latest news, they took
+their seat in a secluded corner.
+
+Bathurst thought of the last time he had been there, when there had been
+a fete given by the Rajah to the residents of Cawnpore, and contrasted
+the present with the past. Then the gardens were lighted up, and a crowd
+of officers and civilians with ladies in white dresses had strolled
+along the terrace to the sound of gay music, while their host moved
+about among them, courteous, pleasant, and smiling. Now the greater
+portion of the men were dead, the women were prisoners in the hands of
+the native who had professed such friendship for them.
+
+“Tell me, Rujub,” he said presently, “more about this force at
+Allahabad. What is its strength likely to be?”
+
+“They say there is one British regiment of the line, one of the plumed
+regiments with bare legs, and one of the white Madras regiments; they
+have a few guns, a very few horsemen; that is all, while there are
+twenty thousand troops here. How can they hope to win?”
+
+“You will see they will win,” Bathurst said sternly. “They have often
+fought well, but they will fight now as they never fought before; every
+man will feel himself an avenger of the foul treachery and the brutal
+massacres that have been committed. Were it but one regiment that is
+coming up instead of three, I would back it against the blood stained
+wretches.”
+
+“They are fighting for freedom,” Rujub said.
+
+“They are fighting for nothing of the sort,” Bathurst replied hotly;
+“they are fighting for they know not what--change of masters, for
+license to plunder, and because they are ignorant and have been led
+away. I doubt not that at present, confident as they may be of victory,
+most of them in their hearts regret what they have done. They have
+forfeited their pensions, they have thrown away the benefits of their
+years of service, they have been faithless to their salt, and false
+to their oaths. It is true that they know they are fighting with ropes
+round their necks, but even that won’t avail against the discipline and
+the fury of our troops. I feel as certain, Rujub, that, in spite of the
+odds against them, the English will triumph, as if I saw their column
+marching into the town. I don’t profess to see the future as you do, but
+I know enough to tell you that ere long that palace you can see through
+the trees will be leveled to the ground, that it is as assuredly doomed
+as if fire had already been applied to its gilded beams.”
+
+Rujub nodded. “I know the palace is doomed. While I have looked at it
+it has seemed hidden by a cloud of smoke, but I did not think it was the
+work of the British--I thought of an accident.”
+
+“The Rajah may fire it with his own hands,” Bathurst said; “but if he
+does not, it will be done for him.”
+
+“I have not told you yet, sahib,” Rujub said, changing the subject, “how
+it was that I could neither prevent the attack on the boats nor warn you
+that it was coming. I knew at Deennugghur that news had been sent of
+the surrender to the Nana. I remained till I knew you were safely in the
+boats, and then rode to Cawnpore. My daughter was at the house when
+I arrived, and told me that the Nana was furious with me, and that it
+would not be safe for me to go near the palace. Thus, although I feared
+that an attack was intended, I thought it would not be until the boats
+passed the town. It was late before I learnt that a battery of artillery
+and some infantry had set out that afternoon. Then I tried to warn you,
+but I felt that I failed. You were not in a mood when my mind could
+communicate itself to yours.”
+
+“I felt very uneasy and restless,” Bathurst said, “but I had not
+the same feeling that you were speaking to me I had that night at
+Deennugghur; but even had I known of the danger, there would have been
+no avoiding it. Had we landed, we must have been overtaken, and it would
+have come to the same thing. Tell me, Rujub, had you any idea when I saw
+you at Deennugghur that if we were taken prisoners Miss Hannay was to be
+brought here instead of being placed with the other ladies?”
+
+“Yes, I knew it, sahib; the orders he gave to the Sepoys were that every
+man was to be killed, and that the women and children were to be taken
+to Cawnpore, except Miss Hannay, who was to be carried here at once. The
+Rajah had noticed her more than once when she was at Cawnpore, and had
+made up his mind that she should go to his zenana.”
+
+“Why did you not tell me when you were at Deennugghur?”
+
+“What would have been the use, sahib? I hoped to save you all; besides,
+it was not until we saw her taken past this morning that we knew that
+the Miss Hannay who was to be taken to Bithoor was the lady whom my
+daughter, when she saw her with you that night, said at once that you
+loved. But had we known it, what good would it have done to have told
+you of the Rajah’s orders? You could not have done more than you have
+done. But now we know, we will aid you to save her.”
+
+“How long will your daughter be before she comes? It is horrible waiting
+here.”
+
+“You must have patience, sahib. It will be no easy work to get the lady
+away. There will be guards and women to look after her. A lady is not to
+be stolen out of a zenana as a young bird is taken from its nest.”
+
+“It is all very well to say ‘Be patient,’” Bathurst said, getting up and
+walking up and down with quick angry strides. “It is maddening to sit
+here doing nothing. If it were not that I had confidence in your power
+and will to aid me, I would go into the palace and stab Nana Sahib to
+the heart, though I were cut to pieces for it the moment afterwards.”
+
+“That would do no good to the lady, sahib,” Rujub said calmly. “She
+would only be left without a friend, and the Nana’s death might be
+the signal for the murder of every white prisoner. Ah, here comes my
+daughter.”
+
+Rabda came up quickly, and stopped before Bathurst with her head bowed
+and her arms crossed in an attitude of humility. She was dressed in the
+attire worn by the principal servants in attendance upon the zenana of a
+Hindoo prince.
+
+“Well, what news, Rabda?” Bathurst asked eagerly.
+
+“The light of my lord’s heart is sick. She bore up till she arrived here
+and was handed over to the women. Then her strength failed her, and she
+fainted. She recovered, but she is lying weak and exhausted with all
+that she has gone through and suffered.”
+
+“Where is she now?”
+
+“She is in the zenana, looking out into the women’s court, that no men
+are ever allowed to enter.”
+
+“Has the Rajah seen her?”
+
+“No, sahib. He was told the state that she was in, and the chief lady
+of the zenana sent him word that for the present she must have quiet and
+rest, but that in two or three days she might be fit to see him.”
+
+“That is something,” Bathurst said thankfully. “Now we shall have time
+to think of some scheme for getting her out.”
+
+“You have been in the zenana yourself, Rabda?” Rujub asked.
+
+“Yes, father; the mistress of the zenana saw me directly an attendant
+told her I was there. She has always been kind to me. I said that you
+were going on a journey, and asked her if I might stay with her and act
+as an attendant until you returned, and she at once assented. She asked
+if I should see you before you left, and when I said yes, she asked if
+you could not give her some spell that would turn the Rajah’s thoughts
+from this white girl. She fears that if she should become first favorite
+in the zenana, she might take things in her hands as English women do,
+and make all sorts of changes. I told her that, doubtless, the English
+girl would do this, and that I thought she was wise to ask your
+assistance.”
+
+“You are mad, Rabda,” her father said angrily; “what have I to do with
+spells and love philters?”
+
+“No, father, I knew well enough you would not believe in such things,
+but I thought in this way I might see the lady, and communicate with
+her.”
+
+“A very good idea, Rabda,” Bathurst said. “Is there nothing you can do,
+Rujub, to make her odious to the Nana?”
+
+“Nothing, sahib. I could act upon some people’s minds, and make them
+think that the young lady was afflicted by some loathsome disease, but
+not with the Nana. I have many times tried to influence him, but without
+success: his mind is too deep for mine to master, and between us there
+is no sympathy. Could I be present with him and the girl I might do
+something--that is, if the powers that aid me would act against him; but
+this I do not think.”
+
+“Rujub,” Bathurst said suddenly, “there must have been medical stores
+taken when the camp was captured--drugs and things of that sort. Can you
+find out who has become possessed of them?”
+
+“I might find out, sahib. Doubtless the men who looted the camp will
+have sold the drugs to the native shops, for English drugs are highly
+prized. Are there medicines that can act as the mistress of the zenana
+wishes?”
+
+“No; but there are drugs that when applied externally would give the
+appearance of a terrible disease. There are acids whose touch would burn
+and blister the skin, and turn a beautiful face into a dreadful mask.”
+
+“But would it recover its fairness, sahib?”
+
+“The traces might last for a long time, even for life, if too much were
+used, but I am sure Miss Hannay would not hesitate for a moment on that
+account.”
+
+“But you, sahib--would you risk her being disfigured?”
+
+“What does it matter to me?” Bathurst asked sternly. “Do you think love
+is skin deep, and that ’tis only for a fair complexion that we choose
+our wives? Find me the drugs, and let Rabda take them into her with
+a line from me. One of them you can certainly get, for it is used, I
+believe, by gold and silver smiths. It is nitric acid; the other is
+caustic potash, or, as it is sometimes labeled, lunar caustic. It is in
+little sticks; but if you find out anyone who has bought drugs or cases
+of medicines, I will go with you and pick them out.”
+
+“There will be no difficulty about finding out where the English drugs
+are. They are certain to be at one of the shops where the native doctors
+buy their medicines.”
+
+“Let us go at once, then,” Bathurst said. “You can prepare some harmless
+drink, and Rabda will tell the mistress of the zenana it will bring out
+a disfiguring eruption. We can be back here again this evening. Will
+you be here, Rabda, at sunset, and wait until we come? You can tell the
+woman that you have seen your father, and that he will supply her with
+what she requires. Make some excuse, if you can, to see the prisoner.
+Say you are curious to see the white woman who has bewitched the Nana,
+and if you get the opportunity whisper in her ear these words, ‘Do not
+despair, friends are working for you.’”
+
+Rabda repeated the English words several times over until she had them
+perfect; then she made her way back to the palace, while Bathurst and
+his companion proceeded at once to the spot where they had left their
+vehicle.
+
+They had but little difficulty in finding what they required. Many of
+the shops displayed garments, weapons, jewelry, and other things, the
+plunder of the intrenchments of Cawnpore. Rujub entered several shops
+where drugs were sold, and finally one of the traders said, “I have a
+large black box full of drugs which I bought from a Sepoy for a rupee,
+but now that I have got it I do not know what to do with it. Some of the
+bottles doubtless contain poisons. I will sell it you for two rupees,
+which is the value of the box, which, as you see, is very strong and
+bound with iron. The contents I place no price upon.”
+
+“I will take it,” Rujub said. “I know some of the English medicines, and
+may find a use for them.”
+
+He paid the money, called in a coolie, and bade him take up the chest
+and follow him, and they soon arrived at the juggler’s house.
+
+The box, which was a hospital medical chest, was filled with drugs of
+all kinds. Bathurst put a stick of caustic into a small vial, and half
+filled another, which had a glass stopper, with nitric acid, filled it
+up with water, and tried the effect of rubbing a few drops on his arm.
+
+“That is strong enough for anything,” he said, with a slight exclamation
+at the sharp pain. “And now give me a piece of paper and pen and ink.”
+
+Then sitting down he wrote:
+
+“My Dear Miss Hannay: Rujub, the juggler, and I will do what we can to
+rescue you. We are powerless to effect anything as long as you remain
+where you are. The bearer, Rujub’s daughter, will give you the bottles,
+one containing lunar caustic, the other nitric acid. The mistress of
+the zenana, who wants to get rid of you, as she fears you might obtain
+influence over the Nana, has asked the girl to obtain from her father a
+philter which will make you odious to him. The large bottle is perfectly
+harmless, and you can drink its contents without fear. The caustic is
+for applying to your lips; it will be painful, but I am sure you will
+not mind that, and the injury will be only of a temporary nature.
+I cannot promise as much for the nitric acid; pray apply it very
+carefully, merely moistening the glass stopper and applying it with
+that. I should use it principally round the lips. It will burn and
+blister the skin. The Nana will be told that you have a fever, which is
+causing a terrible and disfiguring eruption. I should apply it also to
+the neck and hands. Pray be very careful with the stuff; for, besides
+the application being exceedingly painful, the scars may possibly remain
+permanently. Keep the two small bottles carefully hidden, in order to
+renew the application if absolutely necessary. At any rate, this will
+give us time, and, from what I hear, our troops are likely to be here
+in another ten days’ time. You will be, I know, glad to hear that Wilson
+has also escaped.
+
+“Yours,
+
+“R. Bathurst.”
+
+A large bottle was next filled with elder flower water. The trap was
+brought around, and they drove back to Bithoor. Rabda was punctual to
+her appointment.
+
+“I have seen her,” she said, “and have given her the message. I could
+see that she understood it, but as there were other women round, she
+made no sign. I told the mistress of the zenana that you had given me
+some magic words that I was to whisper to her to prepare the way for the
+philter, so she let me in without difficulty, and I was allowed to go
+close up to her and repeat your message. I put my hands on her before
+I did so, and I think she felt that it was the touch of a friend. She
+hushed up when I spoke to her. The mistress, who was standing close by,
+thought that this was a sign of the power of the words I had spoken to
+her. I did not stay more than a minute. I was afraid she might try to
+speak to me in your tongue, and that would have been dangerous.”
+
+“There are the bottles,”’ Bathurst said; “this large one is for her to
+take, the other two and this note are to be given to her separately.
+You had better tell the woman that the philter must be given by your own
+hands, and that you must then watch alone by her side for half an hour.
+Say that after you leave her she will soon go off to sleep; and must
+then be left absolutely alone till daybreak tomorrow, and it will then
+be found that the philter has acted. She must at once tell the Nana
+that the lady is in a high fever, and has been seized with some terrible
+disease that has altogether disfigured her, and that he can see for
+himself the state she is in.”
+
+Rabda’s whisper had given new life and hope to Isobel Hannay. Previous
+to that her fate had seemed to her to be sealed, and she had only prayed
+for death; the long strain of the siege had told upon her; the scene in
+the boat seemed a species of horrible nightmare, culminating in a
+number of Sepoys leaping on board the boat as it touched the bank, and
+bayoneting her uncle and all on board except herself, Mrs. Hunter, and
+her daughter, who were seized and carried ashore. Then followed a night
+of dull despairing pain, while she and her companions crouched together,
+with two Sepoys standing on guard over them, while the others, after
+lighting fires, talked and laughed long into the night over the success
+of their attack.
+
+At daybreak they had been placed upon a limber and driven into Cawnpore.
+Her spirit had risen as they were assailed by insults and imprecations
+by the roughs of the town, and she had borne up bravely till, upon their
+arrival at the entrance to what she supposed was the prison, she was
+roughly dragged from the limber, placed in a close carriage, and driven
+off. In her despair she had endeavored to open the door in order to
+throw herself under the wheels, but a soldier stood on each step and
+prevented her from doing so.
+
+Outside of the town she soon saw that she was on the road to Bithoor,
+and the fate for which she was reserved flashed upon her. She remembered
+now the oily compliments of Nana Sahib, and the unpleasant thrill she
+had felt when his eyes were fixed upon her; and had she possessed a
+weapon of any kind she would have put an end to her life. But her pistol
+had been taken from her when she landed, and in helpless despair she
+crouched in a corner of the carriage until they reached Bithoor.
+
+As soon as the carriage stopped a cloth was thrown over her head. She
+was lifted out and carried into the palace, through long passages and
+up stairs; then those who carried her set her on her feet and retired.
+Other hands took her and led her forward till the cloth was taken off
+her head, and she found herself surrounded, by women, who regarded her
+with glances of mixed curiosity and hostility. Then everything seemed to
+swim round, and she fainted.
+
+When she recovered consciousness all strength seemed to have left her,
+and she lay in a sort of apathy for hours, taking listlessly the drink
+that was offered to her, but paying no attention to what was passing
+around, until there was a gentle pressure on her arm, the grasp
+tightening with a slight caressing motion that seemed to show sympathy;
+then came the English words softly whispered into her ear, while the
+hand again pressed her arm firmly, as if in warning.
+
+It was with difficulty that she refrained from uttering an exclamation,
+and she felt the blood crimson her cheeks, but she mastered the impulse
+and lay perfectly quiet, glancing up into the face bent down close to
+hers--it was not familiar to her, and yet it seemed to her that she had
+seen it somewhere; another minute and it was gone.
+
+But though to all appearances Isobel’s attitude was unchanged, her mind
+was active now. Who could have sent her this message? Who could this
+native girl be who had spoken in English to her? Where had she seen the
+face?
+
+Her thoughts traveled backwards, and she ran over in her mind all
+those with whom she had come in contact since her arrival in India; her
+servants and those of her acquaintances passed before her eyes. She
+had scarcely spoken to another native woman since she had landed. After
+thinking over all she had known in Cawnpore, she thought of Deennugghur.
+Whom had she met there?
+
+Suddenly came the remembrance of the exhibition by the juggler, and
+she recalled the face and figure of his daughter, as, seated, upon the
+growing pole, she had gone up foot by foot in the light of the lamps and
+up into the darkness above. The mystery was solved; that was the face
+that had just leaned over her.
+
+But how could she be interested in her fate? Then she remembered that
+this was the girl whom Bathurst had saved from the tiger. If they
+were interested in her, it must be through Bathurst. Could he too have
+survived the attack of the night before? She had thought of him, as of
+all of them, as dead, but possibly he might have escaped. Even during
+the long night’s waiting, a captive to the Sepoys, the thought that he
+had instantly sprung from beside her and leaped overboard had been
+an added pang to all her misery. She had no after remembrance of him;
+perhaps he had swum to shore and got off in safety. In that case he must
+be lingering in Cawnpore, had learned what had become of her, and was
+trying to rescue her. It was to the juggler he would naturally have gone
+to obtain assistance. If so, he was risking his life now to save hers;
+and this was the man whom she despised as a coward.
+
+But what could he do? At Bithoor, in the power of this treacherous
+Rajah, secure in the zenana, where no man save its master ever
+penetrated, how could he possibly help her? Yet the thought that he was
+trying to do so was a happy one, and the tears that flowed between her
+closed lids were not painful ones. She blamed herself now for having
+felt for a moment hurt at Bathurst’s desertion of her. To have remained
+in the boat would have been certain death, while he could have been of
+no assistance to her or anyone else. That he should escape, then, if he
+could, now seemed to her a perfectly natural action; she hoped that
+some of the others had done the same, and that Bathurst was not working
+alone.
+
+It did not occur to her that there could be any possibility of the
+scheme for her rescue succeeding; as to that she felt no more hopeful
+than before, but it seemed to take away the sense of utter loneliness
+that she before felt that someone should be interesting himself in her
+fate. Perhaps there would be more than a mere verbal message next time;
+how long would it be before she heard again? How long a respite had she
+before that wretch came to see her? Doubtless he had heard that she was
+ill. She would remain so. She would starve herself. Her weakness seemed
+to her her best protection.
+
+As she lay apparently helpless upon the couch she watched the women move
+about the room. The girl who had spoken to her was not among them. The
+women were not unkind; they brought her cooling drinks, and tried to
+tempt her to eat something; but she shook her head as if utterly unable
+to do so, and after a time feigned to be asleep.
+
+Darkness came on gradually; some lamps were lighted in the room. Not for
+a moment had she been left alone since she was brought in--never less
+than two females remaining with her.
+
+Presently the woman who was evidently the chief of the establishment
+came in accompanied by a girl, whom Isobel recognized at once as the
+juggler’s daughter. The latter brought with her a tray, on which were
+some cakes and a silver goblet. These she set down on an oak table by
+the couch. The girl then handed her the goblet, which, keeping up the
+appearance of extreme feebleness, she took languidly. She placed it to
+her lips, but at once took it away. It was not cool and refreshing like
+those she had tasted before, it had but little flavor, but had a faint
+odor, which struck her as not unfamiliar. It was a drug of some sort
+they wished her to drink.
+
+She looked up in the girl’s face. Rabda made a reassuring gesture, and
+said in a low whisper, as she bent forward, “Bathurst Sahib.”
+
+This was sufficient; whatever it was it would do her no harm, and she
+raised the cup to her lips and emptied it. Then the elder woman said
+something to the other two, and they all left the room together, leaving
+her alone with Rabda.
+
+The latter went to the door quietly and drew the hangings across it,
+then she returned to the couch, and from the folds of her dress produced
+two vials and a tiny note. Then, noiselessly, she placed a lamp on the
+table, and withdrew to a short distance while Isobel opened and read the
+note.
+
+Twice she read it through, and then, laying it down, burst into tears of
+relief. Rabda came and knelt down beside the couch, and, taking one
+of her hands, pressed it to her lips. Isobel threw her arms round the
+girl’s neck, drew her close to her, and kissed her warmly.--Rabda then
+drew a piece of paper and a pencil from her dress and handed them to
+her. She wrote:
+
+“Thanks a thousand times, dear friend; I will follow your instructions.
+Please send me if you can some quick and deadly poison, that I may take
+in the last extremity. Do not fear that I will flinch from applying the
+things you have sent me. I would not hesitate to swallow them were there
+no other hope of escape. I rejoice so much to know that you have escaped
+from that terrible attack last night. Did Wilson alone get away? Do you
+know they murdered my uncle and all the others in the boat, except Mrs.
+Hunter and Mary? Pray do not run any risks to try and rescue me. I think
+that I am safe now, and will make myself so hideous that if the wretch
+once sees me he will never want to see me again. As to death, I have no
+fear of it. If we do not meet again, God bless you.
+
+“Yours most gratefully,
+
+“Isobel.”
+
+Rabda concealed the note in her garment, and then motioned to Isobel
+that she should close her eyes and pretend to be asleep. Then she gently
+drew back the curtains and seated herself at a distance from the couch.
+
+Half an hour later the mistress of the zenana came in. Rabda rose and
+put her finger to her lips and left the room, accompanied by the woman.
+
+“She is asleep,” she said; “do not be afraid, the potion will do its
+work. Leave her alone all night. When she wakes in the morning she will
+be wild with fever, and you need have no fear that the Rajah will seek
+to make her the queen of his zenana.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+
+Prepared as the mistress of the zenana was to find a great change in the
+captive’s appearance, she was startled when, soon after daybreak, she
+went in to see her. The lower part of her face was greatly swollen, her
+lips were covered with white blotches. There were great red scars
+round the mouth and on her forehead, and the skin seemed to have been
+completely eaten away. There were even larger and deeper marks on her
+neck and shoulders, which were partly uncovered, as if by her restless
+tossing. Her hands and arms were similarly marked. She took no notice
+of her entrance, but talked to herself as she tossed restlessly on the
+couch.
+
+There was but little acting in this, for Isobel was suffering an agony
+of pain. She had used the acid much more freely than she had been
+instructed to do, determined that the disfigurement should be complete.
+All night she had been in a state of high fever, and had for a time been
+almost delirious. She was but slightly more easy now, and had difficulty
+in preventing herself from crying out from the torture she was
+suffering.
+
+There was no tinge of pity in the face of the woman who looked at her,
+but a smile of satisfaction at the manner in which the potion had done
+its work.
+
+“The Nana can see her now,” she said to herself; “there will be no
+change in the arrangements here.”
+
+She at once sent out word that as soon as the Rajah was up he was to be
+told that she begged him to come at once.
+
+An hour later he came to the door of the zenana.
+
+“What is it, Poomba?” he asked; “nothing the matter with Miss Hannay, I
+hope?”
+
+“I grieve to say, your highness, that she has been seized with some
+terrible disease. I know not what it is, for never did I see a woman so
+smitten. It must be an illness contracted from confinement and bad air
+during the siege, some illness that the Europeans have, for never did I
+see aught like it. She is in a high state of fever, and her face is in a
+terrible state. It must be a sort of plague.”
+
+“You have been poisoning her,” the Nana said roughly; “if so, beware,
+for your life shall be the forfeit. I will see her for myself.”
+
+“She has had no poison since she came here, though I know not but what
+she may have had poison about her, and may have taken it after she was
+captured.”
+
+“Take me to her,” the Rajah said. “I will see for myself.”
+
+“It may be a contagious disease, your highness. It were best that you
+should not go near her.”
+
+The Rajah made an impatient gesture, and the woman, without another
+word, led him into the room where Isobel was lying. The Nana was
+prepared for some disfigurement of the face he had so admired, but he
+shrank back from the reality.
+
+“It is horrible,” he said, in a low voice. “What have you been doing to
+her?” he asked, turning furiously to the woman.
+
+“I have done nothing, your highness. All day yesterday she lay in a
+torpor, as I told you in the evening when you inquired about her, and I
+thought then she was going to be ill. I have watched her all night.
+She has been restless and disturbed, but I thought it better not to go
+nearer lest I should wake her, and it was not until this morning, when
+the day broke, that I perceived this terrible change. What shall we do
+with her? If the disease is contagious, everyone in the palace may catch
+it.”
+
+“Have a closed palanquin brought to the door, wrap her up, and have
+her carried down to the Subada Ke Kothee. Let her give it to the women
+there. Burn all the things in this room, and everything that has been
+worn by those who have entered it. I will inquire into this matter later
+on, and should I find that there has been any foul play, those concerned
+in it shall wish they had never been born.”
+
+As soon as he had left the woman called Rabda in.
+
+“All has gone well,” she said; “your father’s philter is powerful
+indeed. Tell him whenever he needs any service I can render he has but
+to ask it. Look at her; did you ever see one so disfigured? The Rajah
+has seen her, and is filled with loathing. She is to be sent to the
+Subada Ke Kothee. Are you sure that the malady is not contagious? I have
+persuaded the Rajah that it is; that is why he is sending her away.”
+
+“I am sure it is not,” Rabda said; “it is the result of the drugs. It is
+terrible to see her; give me some cooling ointment.”
+
+“What does it matter about her now that she is harmless?” Poomba said
+scornfully. Being, however, desirous of pleasing Rabda, she went away
+and brought a pot of ointment, which the girl applied to the sores, the
+tears falling down her cheeks as she did so.
+
+The salve at once afforded relief from the burning pain, and Isobel
+gratefully took a drink prepared from fresh limes.
+
+She had only removed her gown when she had lain down, having done this
+in order that it should not be burned by the acid, and that her neck
+and shoulders might be seen, and the belief induced that this strange
+eruption was all over her. Rabda made signs for her to put it on again,
+and pointing in the direction of Cawnpore, repeated the word several
+times, and Isobel felt with a thrill of intense thankfulness that the
+stratagem had succeeded, and that she was to be sent away at once,
+probably to the place where the other prisoners were confined. Presently
+the woman returned.
+
+“Rabda, you had best go with her. It were well that you should leave
+for the present. The Rajah is suspicious; he may come back again and ask
+questions; and as he knows you by sight, and as you told me your father
+was in disfavor with him at present, he might suspect that you were in
+some way concerned in the matter.”
+
+“I will go,” Rabda said. “I am sorry she has suffered so much. I did not
+think the potion would have been so strong. Give me a netful of fresh
+limes and some cooling lotion, that I may leave with her there.”
+
+In a few minutes a woman came up to say that the palanquin was in
+readiness at the gate of the zenana garden. A large cushion was taken
+off a divan, and Isobel was laid upon it and covered with a light
+shawl. Six of the female attendants lifted it and carried it downstairs,
+accompanied by Rabda and the mistress off the zenana, both closely
+veiled. Outside the gate was a large palanquin, with its bearers and
+four soldiers and an officer. The cushion was lifted and placed in the
+palanquin, and Rabda also took her place there.
+
+“Then you will not return today,” the woman said to her, in a voice loud
+enough to be heard by the officers “You will remain with her for a time,
+and afterwards go to see your friends in the town. I will send for you
+when I hear that you wish to return.”
+
+The curtains of the palanquin were drawn down; the bearers lifted it and
+started at once for Cawnpore.
+
+On arrival at the large building known as the Subada Ke Kothee the
+gates were opened at once at the order of the Nana’s officer, and the
+palanquin was carried across the courtyard to the door of the building
+which was used as a prison for the white women and children. It was
+taken into the great arched room and set down. Rabda stepped out, and
+the bearers lifted out the cushion upon which Isobel lay.
+
+“You will not be wanted any more,” Rabda said, in a tone of authority.
+“You can return to Bithoor at once!”
+
+As the door closed behind them several of the ladies came round to
+see this fresh arrival. Rabda looked round till her eye fell upon Mrs.
+Hunter, who was occupied in trying to hush a fractious child. She put
+her hand on her arm and motioned to her to come along. Surprised at the
+summons, Mrs. Hunter followed her. When they reached the cushion Rabda
+lifted the shawl from Isobel’s face. For a moment Mrs. Hunter failed to
+recognize her, but as Isobel opened her eyes and held out her hand she
+knew her, and with a cry of pity she dropped on her knees beside her.
+
+“My poor child, what have these fiends been doing to you?”
+
+“They have been doing nothing, Mrs. Hunter,” she whispered. “I am not
+so bad as I seem, though I have suffered a great deal of pain. I was
+carried away to Bithoor, to Nana Sahib’s zenana, and I have burnt my
+face with caustic and acid; they think I have some terrible disease, and
+have sent me here.”
+
+“Bravely done, girl! Bravely and nobly done! We had best keep the secret
+to ourselves; there are constantly men looking through the bars of the
+window, and some of them may understand English.”
+
+Then she looked up and said, “It is Miss Hannay, she was captured with
+us in the boats; please help me to carry her over to the wall there, and
+my daughter and I will nurse her; it looks as if she had been terribly
+burnt, somehow.”
+
+Many of the ladies had met Isobel in the happy days before the troubles
+began, and great was the pity expressed at her appearance. She was
+carried to the side of the wall, where Mary and Mrs. Hunter at once made
+her as comfortable as they could. Rabda, who had now thrown back her
+veil, produced from under her dress the net containing some fifty small
+limes, and handed to Mrs. Hunter the pot of ointment and the lotion.
+
+“She has saved me,” Isobel said; “it is the daughter of the juggler who
+performed at your house, Mrs. Hunter; do thank her for me, and tell her
+how grateful I am.”
+
+Mrs. Hunter took Rabda’s hand, and in her own language thanked her for
+her kindness to Isobel.
+
+“I have done as I was told,” Rabda said simply; “the Sahib Bathurst
+saved my life, and when he said the lady must be rescued from the hands
+of the Nana, it was only right that I should do so, even at the risk of
+my life.”
+
+“So Bathurst has escaped,” Mrs. Hunter said, turning to Isobel. “I am
+glad of that, dear; I was afraid that all were gone.”
+
+“Yes, I had a note from him; it is by his means that I got away from
+Bithoor. He sent me the caustic and acid to burn my face. He told me
+Mr. Wilson had also escaped, and perhaps some others may have got away,
+though he did not seem to know it.”
+
+“But surely there could be no occasion to burn yourself as badly as you
+have done, Isobel.”
+
+“I am afraid I did put on too much acid,” she said. “I was so afraid
+of not burning it enough; but it does not matter, it does not pain me
+nearly so much since I put on that ointment; it will soon get well.”
+
+Mrs. Hunter shook her head regretfully.
+
+“I am afraid it will leave marks for a long time.”
+
+“That is of no consequence at all, Mrs. Hunter; I am so thankful at
+being here with you, that I should mind very little if I knew that it
+was always to be as bad as it is now. What does it matter?”
+
+“It does not matter at all at present, my dear; but if you ever get out
+of this horrible place, some day you may think differently about it.”
+
+“I must go now,” Rabda said. “Has the lady any message to send to the
+sahib?” and she again handed a paper and pencil to Isobel.
+
+The girl took them, hesitating a little before writing:
+
+“Thank God you have saved me. Some day, perhaps, I may be able to tell
+you how grateful I am; but, if not, you will know that if the worst
+happens to us, I shall die blessing you for what you have done for me.
+Pray do not linger longer in Cawnpore. You may be discovered, and if I
+am spared, it would embitter my life always to know that it had cost you
+yours. God bless you always.
+
+“Yours gratefully,
+
+“Isobel.”
+
+She folded up the paper and gave it to Rabda, who took her hand and
+kissed it; and then, drawing her veil again over her face, went to the
+door, which stood open for the moment.
+
+Some men were bringing in a large cauldron of rice. The sentries offered
+no opposition to her passing out, as the officer with the palanquin
+had told them that a lady of the Rajah’s zenana would leave shortly.
+A similar message had been given to the officer at the main gate, who,
+however, requested to see her hand and arm to satisfy him that all was
+right. This was sufficient to assure him that it was not a white woman
+passing out in disguise, and Rabda at once proceeded to her father’s
+house.
+
+As she expected, he and Bathurst were away, for she had arranged to meet
+them at eight o’clock in the garden. They did not return until eleven,
+having waited two hours for her, and returning home in much anxiety at
+her non-appearance.
+
+“What has happened? Why did you not meet us, Rabda?” her father
+exclaimed, as he entered.
+
+Rabda rapidly repeated the incidents that had happened since she had
+parted from him the evening before, and handed to Bathurst the two notes
+she had received from Isobel.
+
+“Then she is in safety with the others!” he exclaimed in delight. “Thank
+God for that, and thank you, Rabda, indeed, for what you have done.”
+
+“My life is my lord’s,” the girl said quietly. “What I have done is
+nothing.”
+
+“If we had but known, Rujub, that she would be moved at once, we might
+have rescued her on the way.”
+
+Rujub shook his head.
+
+“There are far too many people along the road, sahib; it could not have
+been done. But, of course, there was no knowing that she would be sent
+off directly after the Nana had seen her.”
+
+“Is she much disfigured, Rabda?” Bathurst asked.
+
+“Dreadfully;” the girl said sorrowfully. “The acid must have been too
+strong.”
+
+“It was strong, no doubt,” Bathurst said; “but if she had put it on as I
+instructed her it could only have burnt the surface of the skin.”
+
+“It has burnt her dreadfully, sahib; even I should hardly have known
+her. She must be brave indeed to have done it. She must have suffered
+dreadfully; but I obtained some ointment for her, and she was better
+when I left her. She is with the wife of the Sahib Hunter.”
+
+“Now, Rabda, see if the meal is prepared,” Rujub said. “We are both
+hungry, and you can have eaten nothing this morning.”
+
+He then left the room, leaving Bathurst to read the letters which he
+still held in his hand, feeling that they were too precious to be looked
+at until he was alone.
+
+It was some time before Rabda brought in his breakfast, and, glancing at
+him, she saw how deeply he had been moved by the letters. She went up to
+him and placed her hand on his shoulder.
+
+“We will get her for you, sahib. We have been successful so far, be
+assured that we shall succeed again. What we have done is more difficult
+than what we have to do. It is easier to get twenty prisoners from a
+jail than one from a rajah’s zenana.”
+
+“That is true enough, Rabda. At the moment I was not thinking of that,
+but of other things.”
+
+He longed for sympathy, but the girl would not have understood him had
+he told her his feelings. To her he was a hero, and it would have seemed
+to her folly had he said that he felt himself altogether unworthy of
+Isobel Hannay. After he had finished his breakfast Rujub again came in.
+
+“What does the sahib intend to do now?” he asked.
+
+“As far as I can see there is nothing to do at present, Rujub,” he said.
+“When the white troops come up she will be delivered.”
+
+“Then will my lord go down to Allahabad?”
+
+“Certainly not. There is no saying what may happen.”
+
+“That is so,” Rujub agreed. “The white women are safe at present, but
+if, as the Sahib thinks, the white soldiers should beat the troops of
+the Nana, who can say what will happen? The people will be wild with
+rage, the Nana will be furious--he is a tiger who, having once laid his
+paw on a victim, will not allow it to be torn from him.”
+
+“He can never allow them to be injured,” Bathurst said. “It is possible
+that as our troops advance he may carry them all off as hostages, and by
+the threat of killing them may make terms for his own life, but he would
+never venture to carry out his threats. You think he would?” he asked.
+
+Rujub remained silent for a minute.
+
+“I think so, sahib; the Nana is an ambitious man; he has wealth and
+everything most men would desire to make life happy, but he wanted more:
+he thought that when the British Raj was destroyed he would rule over
+the territories of the Peishwa, and be one of the greatest lords of the
+land. He has staked everything on that; if he loses, he has lost all. He
+knows that after the breach of his oath and the massacre here, there is
+no pardon for him. He is a tiger--and a wounded tiger is most dangerous.
+If he is, as you believe he will be, defeated, I believe his one thought
+will be of revenge. Every day brings news of fresh risings. Scindia’s
+army will join us; Holkar’s will probably follow. All Oude is rising in
+arms. A large army is gathering at Delhi. Even if the Nana is defeated
+here all will not be lost. He has twenty thousand men; there are well
+nigh two hundred thousand in arms round Lucknow alone. My belief is
+that if beaten his first thought will be to take revenge at once on the
+Feringhees, and to make his name terrible, and that he will then go off
+with his army to Lucknow or Delhi, where he would be received as one who
+has dared more than all others to defy the whites, who has no hope of
+pardon, and can, therefore, be relied upon above all others to fight to
+the last.”
+
+“It may be so, Rujub, though I can scarce believe that there exists a
+monster who would give orders for the murder of hundreds of women and
+children in cold blood; but, at any rate, I will remain and watch.
+We will decide upon what will be the best plan to rescue her from the
+prison, if we hear that evil is intended; but, if not, I can remain
+patiently until our troops arrive. I know the Subada Ke Kothee; it is,
+if I remember right, a large quadrangle with no windows on the outside.”
+
+“That is so, sahib; it is a strong place, and difficult indeed to get
+into or out of. There is only the main gate, which is guarded at night
+by two sentries outside and there is doubtless a strong guard within.”
+
+“I would learn whether the same regiment always furnishes the guard; if
+so, it might be possible to bribe them.”
+
+“I am afraid it would be too dangerous to try. There are scores of men
+in Cawnpore who would cut a throat for a rupee, but when it comes to
+breaking open a prison to carry off one of these white women whom they
+hate it would be too dangerous to try.”
+
+“Could you not do something with your art, Rujub?”
+
+“If there were only the outside sentries it would be easy enough, sahib.
+I could send them to sleep with a wave of my hand, but I could not
+affect the men inside whom I do not know even by sight. Besides, in
+addition to the soldiers who guard the gate, there will be the men who
+have been told off to look after the prisoners. It will require a great
+deal of thinking over, sahib, but I believe we shall manage it. I shall
+go tomorrow to Bithoor and show myself boldly to the Nana. He knows that
+I have done good service to him, and his anger will have cooled down by
+this time, and he will listen to what I have to say. It will be useful
+to us for me to be able to go in and out of the palace at will, and so
+learn the first news from those about him. It is most important that we
+should know if he has evil intentions towards the captives, so that we
+may have time to carry out our plans.”
+
+“Very well, Rujub. You do not expect me to remain indoors, I hope, for I
+should wear myself out if I were obliged to wait here doing nothing.”
+
+“No, sahib; it will be perfectly safe for you to go about just as you
+are, and I can get you any other disguise you like. You will gather what
+is said in the town, can listen to the Sepoys, and examine the Subada Ke
+Kothee. If you like I will go there with you now. My daughter shall come
+with us; she may be useful, and will be glad to be doing something.”
+
+They went out from the city towards the prison house, which stood in
+an open space round which were several other buildings, some of them
+surrounded with gardens and walls.
+
+The Subada Ke Kothee was a large building, forming three sides of a
+square, a strong high wall forming the fourth side. It was low, with a
+flat roof. There were no windows or openings in the outside wall, the
+chambers all facing the courtyard. Two sentries were at the gate. They
+were in the red Sepoy uniform, and Bathurst saw at once how much the
+bonds of discipline had been relaxed. Both had leaned their muskets
+against the wall; one was squatted on the ground beside his firearm, and
+the other was talking with two or three natives of his acquaintance. The
+gates were closed.
+
+As they watched, a native officer came up. He stood for a minute
+talking with the soldiers. By his gesticulations it could be seen he was
+exceedingly angry, and the men took their muskets and began to walk up
+and down. Then the officer knocked at the gate. Instead of its being
+opened, a man appeared at a loophole in the gate tower, and the officer
+handed to him a paper. A minute later the gate was opened sufficiently
+for him to pass in, and was then closed behind him.
+
+“They are evidently pretty strict,” Bathurst said. “I don’t think,
+Rujub, there is much chance of our doing anything there.”
+
+Rujub shook his head. “No, sahib, it is clear they have strict orders
+about opening and shutting the gate.”
+
+“It would not be very difficult to scale the wall of the house,”
+ Bathurst said, “with a rope and a hook at its end; but that is only the
+first step. The real difficulty lies in getting the prison room open in
+the first place--for no doubt they are locked up at night--and in the
+second getting her out of it, and the building.”
+
+“You could lower her down from the top of the wall, sahib.”
+
+“Yes, if one could get her out of the room they are confined in without
+making the slightest stir, but it is almost too much to hope that one
+could be able to do that. The men in charge of them are likely to keep
+a close watch, for they know that their heads would pay for any captive
+they allowed to escape.”
+
+“I don’t think they will watch much, sahib; they will not believe that
+any of the women, broken down as they must be by trouble, would attempt
+such a thing, for even if they got out of the prison itself and then
+made their escape from the building, they would be caught before they
+could go far.”
+
+“Where does the prison house lie, Rabda?” Bathurst asked.
+
+“It is on the left hand side as you enter the gate; it is the farthest
+door. Along that side most of the buildings--which have been used for
+storehouses, I should say, or perhaps for the guards when the place
+was a palace--have two floors, one above the other. But this is a large
+vaulted room extending from the ground to the roof; it has windows with
+iron gratings; the door is very strong and heavy.”
+
+“And now, sahib, we can do nothing more,” Rujub said. “I will return
+home with Rabda, and then go over to Bithoor.”
+
+“Very well, Rujub, I will stay here, and hear what people are talking
+about.”
+
+There were indeed a considerable number of people near the building:
+the fact that the white prisoners were within seemed to exercise a
+fascination, and even women brought their children and sat on the
+banks which marked where gardens had once been, and talked of the
+white captives. Bathurst strolled about among the groups of Sepoys and
+townspeople. The former talked in loud tones of the little force that
+had already started from Allahabad, and boasted how easily they would
+eat up the Feringhees. It seemed, however, to Bathurst that a good deal
+of this confidence was assumed, and that among some, at least, there was
+an undercurrent of doubt and uneasiness, though they talked as loudly
+and boldly as their companions.
+
+The townspeople were of two classes: there were the budmashes or roughs
+of the place, who uttered brutal and ferocious jokes as to the probable
+fate of the white women. There were others who kept in groups apart and
+talked in low voices. These were the traders, to whom the events that
+had taken place foreboded ruin. Already most of the shops had been
+sacked, and many of the principal inhabitants murdered by the mob.
+Those who had so far escaped, thanks in some instances to the protection
+afforded them by Sepoy officers, saw that their trade was ruined, their
+best customers killed, and themselves virtually at the mercy of the mob,
+who might again break out upon the occasion of any excitement. These
+were silent when Bathurst approached them. His attire, and the arms so
+ostentatiously displayed in his sash, marked him as one of the dangerous
+class, perhaps a prisoner from the jail whose doors had been thrown open
+on the first night of the Sepoy rising.
+
+For hours Bathurst remained in the neighborhood of the prison. The sun
+set, and the night came on. Then a small party of soldiers came up and
+relieved the sentries. This time the number of the sentries at the gate
+was doubled, and three men were posted, one on each of the other sides
+of the building. After seeing this done he returned to the house. After
+he had finished his evening meal Rujub and Rabda came into the room.
+
+“Now, sahib,” the former said, “I think that we can tell you how the
+lady is. Rabda has seen her, spoken to her, and touched her; there is
+sympathy between them.”
+
+He seated Rabda in a chair, placed his hand on her forehead, and then
+drew the tips of his fingers several times slowly down her face. Her
+eyes closed. He took up her hand, and let it fall again. It was limp and
+impassive. Then he said authoritatively, “Go to the prison.” He paused a
+moment.
+
+“Are you there?”
+
+“I am there,” she said.
+
+“Are you in the room where the ladies are?”
+
+“I am there,” she repeated.
+
+“Do you see the lady Hannay?”
+
+“I see her.”
+
+“How is she?”
+
+“She is lying quiet. The other young lady is sitting beside her. The
+lower part of her face is bandaged up, but I can see that she is not
+suffering as she was this morning. She looks quiet and happy.”
+
+“Try and speak to her. Say, ‘Keep up your courage, we are doing what we
+can.’ Speak, I order you.”
+
+“I have spoken.”
+
+“Did she hear you?”
+
+“Yes. She has raised herself on her arm; she is looking round; she has
+asked the other young lady if she heard anything. The other shakes her
+head. She heard my words, but does not understand them.”
+
+Rujub looked at Bathurst, who mechanically repeated the message in
+English.
+
+“Speak to her again. Tell her these words,” and Rujub repeated the
+message in English.
+
+“Does she hear you?”
+
+“She hears me. She has clasped her hands, and is looking round
+bewildered.”
+
+“That will do. Now go outside into the yard; what do you see there?”
+
+“I see eight men sitting round a fire. One gets up and walks to one of
+the grated windows, and looks in at the prisoners.”
+
+“Is the door locked?”
+
+“It is locked.”
+
+“Where is the key?”
+
+She was silent for some time.
+
+“Where is the key?” he repeated.
+
+“In the lock,” she said.
+
+“How many soldiers are there in the guardroom by the gate?”
+
+“There are no soldiers there. There are an officer and four men outside,
+but none inside.”
+
+“That will do,” and he passed his hand lightly across her forehead.
+
+“Is it all true?” Bathurst asked, as the juggler turned to him.
+
+“Assuredly it is true, sahib. Had I had my daughter with me at
+Deennugghur, I could have sent you a message as easily; as it was, I had
+to trust only to the power of my mind upon yours. The information is of
+use, sahib.”
+
+“It is indeed. It is a great thing to know that the key is left in the
+lock, and also that at night there are the prison keepers only inside
+the building.”
+
+“Does she know what she has been doing?” he asked, as Rabda languidly
+rose from her chair.
+
+“No, sahib, she knows nothing after she has recovered from these
+trances.”
+
+“I will watch tomorrow night,” Bathurst said, “and see at what hour the
+sentries are relieved. It is evident that the Sepoys are not trusted
+to enter the prison, which is left entirely to the warders, the outside
+posts being furnished by some regiment in the lines. It is important to
+know the exact hour at which the changes are made, and perhaps you
+could find out tomorrow, Rujub, who these warders are; whether they are
+permanently on duty, or are relieved once a day.”
+
+“I will do that, sahib; if they are changed we may be able to get at
+some of them.”
+
+“I have no money,” Bathurst said; “but--”
+
+“I have money, sahib, and if they can be bribed, will do it; our
+caste is a rich one. We sometimes receive large presents, and we are
+everywhere made welcome. We have little need of money. I am wealthy, and
+practice my art more because I love it than for gain. There are few in
+the land that know the secrets that I do. Men die without having sons
+to pass down their knowledge; thus it is the number of those who possess
+the secrets of the ancient grows smaller every day. There are hundreds
+of jugglers, but very few who know, as I do, the secrets of nature, and
+can control the spirits of the air. Did I need greater wealth than I
+have, Rabda could discover for me all the hidden treasures of India;
+and I could obtain them, guarded though they may be by djins and evil
+spirits.”
+
+“Have you a son to come after you, Rujub?”
+
+“Yes; he is traveling in Persia, to confer with one or two of the great
+ones there who still possess the knowledge of the ancient magicians.”
+
+“By the way, Rujub, I have not asked you how you got on with the Nana.”
+
+“It was easy enough,” the juggler said. “He had lost all interest in
+the affairs of Deennugghur, and greeted me at first as if I had just
+returned from a journey. Then he remembered and asked me suddenly why I
+had disobeyed his orders and given my voice for terms being granted to
+the Feringhees. I said that I had obeyed his orders; I understood that
+what he principally desired was to have the women here as prisoners, and
+that had the siege continued the Feringhees would have blown themselves
+into the air. Therefore the only plan was to make terms with them, which
+would, in fact, place them all in his power, as he would not be bound
+by the conditions granted by the Oude men. He was satisfied, and said no
+more about it, and I am restored to my position in his favor. Henceforth
+we shall not have to trust to the gossip of the bazaars, but I shall
+know what news is received and what is going to be done.
+
+“Your people at Delhi have beaten back the Sepoys several times, and at
+Lucknow they resist stoutly. The Nana is very angry that the place has
+not been taken, but from what I hear the intrenchments there are much
+stronger than they were here, and even here they were not taken by the
+sword, but because the whites had no shelter from the guns, and could
+not go to the well without exposing themselves to the fire. At Lucknow
+they have some strong houses in the intrenchments, and no want of
+anything, so they can only be captured by fighting. Everyone says they
+cannot hold out many days longer, but that I do not know. It does not
+seem to me that there is any hope of rescue for them, for even if, as
+you think, the white troops should beat Nana Sahib’s men, they
+never could force their way through the streets of Lucknow to the
+intrenchments there.”
+
+“We shall see, Rujub. Deennugghur was defended by a mere handful, and
+at Lucknow they have half a regiment of white soldiers. They may, for
+anything I know, have to yield to starvation, but I doubt whether the
+mutineers and Oude men, however numerous they may be, will carry the
+place by assault. Is there any news elsewhere?”
+
+“None, sahib, save that the Feringhees are bringing down regiments from
+the Punjaub to aid those at Delhi.”
+
+“The tide is beginning to turn, Rujub; the mutineers have done their
+worst, and have failed to overthrow the English Raj. Now you will see
+that every day they will lose ground. Fresh troops will pour up the
+country, and step by step the mutiny will be crushed out; it is a
+question of time only. If you could call up a picture on smoke of what
+will be happening a year hence, you would see the British triumphant
+everywhere.”
+
+“I cannot do that, sahib; I do not know what would appear on the smoke,
+and were I to try, misfortune would surely come upon me. When a picture
+of the past is shown on the smoke, it is not a past I know of, but which
+one of those present knows. I cannot always say which among them may
+know it; it is always a scene that has made a strong impression on the
+mind, but more than that I do not know. As to those of the future, I
+know even less; it is the work of the power of the air, whose name I
+whisper to myself when I pour out the incense, and to whom I pray. It
+is seldom that I show these pictures; he gets angry if called upon too
+often. I never do it unless I feel that he is propitious.”
+
+“It is beyond me altogether, Rujub; I can understand your power of
+sending messages, and of your daughter seeing at a distance. I
+have heard of such things at home; they are called mesmerism and
+clairvoyance. It is an obscure art; but that some men do possess the
+power of influencing others at a distance seems to be undoubted, still
+it is certainly never carried to such perfection as I see it in your
+case.”
+
+“It could not be,” Rujub said; “white men eat too much, and it needs
+long fasting and mortification to fit a man to become a mystic; the
+spirit gains power as the body weakens. The Feringhees can make arms
+that shoot long distances, and carriages that travel faster than the
+fastest horse, and great ships and machines. They can do many great and
+useful things, but they cannot do the things that have been done for
+thousands of years in the East. They are tied too fast to the earth
+to have aught to do with the spirits that dwell in the air. A learned
+Brahmin, who had studied your holy books, told me that your Great
+Teacher said that if you had faith you could move mountains. We could
+well nigh do that if it were of use to mankind; but were we to do so
+merely to show our power, we should be struck dead. It is wrong even to
+tell you these things; I must say no more.”
+
+Four days passed. Rujub went every day for some hours to Bithoor, and
+told Bathurst that he heard that the British force, of about fourteen
+hundred whites and five hundred Sikhs, was pushing forward rapidly,
+making double marches each day.
+
+“The first fight will be near Futtehpore,” he said; “there are fifteen
+hundred Sepoys, as many Oude tribesmen, and five hundred cavalry with
+twelve guns, and they are in a very strong position, which the British
+can only reach by passing along the road through a swamp. It is a
+position that the officers say a thousand men could hold against ten
+thousand.”
+
+“You will see that it will not delay our troops an hour,” Bathurst said.
+“Do they imagine they are going to beat us, when the numbers are but
+two to one in their favor? If so, they will soon learn that they are
+mistaken.”
+
+The next afternoon, when Rujub returned, he said, “You were right,
+sahib; your people took Futtehpore after only half an hour’s fighting.
+The accounts say that the Feringhees came on like demons, and that they
+did not seem to mind our firing in the slightest. The Nana is furious,
+but they still feel confident that they will succeed in stopping the
+Feringhees at Dong. They lost their twelve guns at Futtehpore, but they
+have two heavy ones at the Pandoo Bridge, which sweep the straight road
+leading to it for a mile; and the bridge has been mined, and will be
+blown up if the Feringhees reach it. But, nevertheless, the Nana swears
+that he will be revenged on the captives. If you are to rescue the lady
+it must be done tonight, for tomorrow it may be too late.”
+
+“You surely do not think he will give orders for the murder of the women
+and children?”
+
+“I fear he will do so,” Rujub answered gloomily.
+
+Each day Bathurst had learned in the same manner as before what
+was doing in the prison. Isobel was no longer being nursed; she was
+assisting to nurse Mary Hunter, who had, the day after Isobel was
+transferred to the prison, been attacked by fever, and was the next
+day delirious. Rabda’s report of the next two days left little doubt in
+Bathurst’s mind that she was rapidly sinking. All the prisoners suffered
+greatly from the close confinement; many had died, and the girl’s
+description of the scenes she witnessed was often interrupted by her
+sobs and tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+
+While Bathurst was busying himself completing his preparations for the
+attempt, Rabda came in with her father.
+
+“My lord,” she said, “I tremble at the thought of your venturing your
+life. My life is of no importance, and it belongs to you. What I would
+propose is this. My father will go to Bithoor, and will obtain an order
+from one of the Nana’s officers for a lady of the zenana to visit the
+prisoners. I will go in veiled, as I was on the day I went there. I will
+change garments with the lady, and she can come out veiled, and meet you
+outside.”
+
+“I would not dream of such a thing, Rabda. You would be killed to a
+certainty when they discovered the trick. Even if I would consent to the
+sacrifice, Miss Hannay would not do so. I am deeply grateful to you for
+proposing it, but it is impossible. You will see that, with the aid of
+your father, I shall succeed.”
+
+“I told her that would be your answer, sahib,” Rujub said, “but she
+insisted on making the offer.”
+
+It was arranged that they were to start at nine o’clock, as it was safer
+to make the attempt before everything became quiet. Before starting,
+Rabda was again placed in a trance. In reply to her father’s questions
+she said that Mary Hunter was dead, and that Isobel was lying down. She
+was told to tell her that in an hour she was to be at the window next to
+the door.
+
+Rujub had found that the men inside the prison were those who had been
+employed as warders at the jail before the troubles began, and he had
+procured for Bathurst a dress similar to that which they wore, which
+was a sort of uniform. He had offered, if the attempt was successful,
+to conceal Isobel in his house until the troops reached Cawnpore, but
+Bathurst preferred to take her down the country, upon the ground that
+every house might be searched, and that possibly before the British
+entered the town there might be a general sack of the place by the mob,
+and even if this did not take place there might be desperate house to
+house fighting when the troops arrived. Rujub acknowledged the danger,
+and said that he and his daughter would accompany them on their way down
+country, as it would greatly lessen their risk if two of the party were
+really natives. Bathurst gratefully accepted the offer, as it would make
+the journey far more tolerable for Isobel if she had Rabda with her.
+
+She was to wait a short distance from the prison while Bathurst made the
+attempt, and was left in a clump of bushes two or three hundred yards
+away from the prison. Rujub accompanied Bathurst. They went along
+quietly until within fifty yards of the sentry in the rear of the
+house, and then stopped. The man was walking briskly up and down.
+Rujub stretched out his arms in front of him with the fingers extended.
+Bathurst, who had taken his place behind him, saw his muscles stiffen,
+while there was a tremulous motion of his fingers. In a minute or two
+the sentry’s walk became slower. In a little time it ceased altogether,
+and he leaned against the wall as if drowsy; then he slid down in a
+sitting position, his musket falling to the ground.
+
+“You can come along now,” Rujub said; “he is fast asleep, and there is
+no fear of his waking. He will sleep till I bid him wake.”
+
+They at once moved forward to the wall of the house. Bathurst threw up
+a knotted rope, to which was attached a large hook, carefully wrapped in
+flannel to prevent noise. After three or four attempts it caught on the
+parapet. Bathurst at once climbed up. As soon as he had gained the flat
+terrace, Rujub followed him; they then pulled up the rope, to the lower
+end of which a rope ladder was attached, and fastened this securely;
+then they went to the inner side of the terrace and looked down onto
+the courtyard. Two men were standing at one of the grated windows of the
+prison room, apparently looking in; six others were seated round a fire
+in the center of the court.
+
+Bathurst was about to turn away when Rujub touched him and pointed to
+the two men at the window, and then stretched out his arms towards them.
+Presently they turned and left the window, and in a leisurely way walked
+across the court and entered a room where a light was burning close to
+the grate. For two or three minutes Rujub stood in the same position,
+then his arms dropped.
+
+“They have gone into the guard room to sleep,” he said; “there are two
+less to trouble you.”
+
+Then he turned towards the group of men by the fire and fixed his gaze
+upon them. In a short time one of them wrapped himself in his cloth and
+lay down. In five minutes two others had followed his example. Another
+ten minutes passed, and then Rujub turned to Bathurst and said, “I
+cannot affect the other three; we cannot influence everyone.”
+
+“That will do, Rujub, it is my turn now.”
+
+After a short search they found stairs leading down from the terrace,
+and after passing through some empty rooms reached a door opening into
+the courtyard.
+
+“Do you stay here, Rujub,” Bathurst said. “They will take me for one of
+themselves. If I succeed without noise, I shall come this way; if not,
+we will go out through the gate, and you had best leave by the way we
+came.”
+
+The door was standing open, and Bathurst, grasping a heavy tulwar, went
+out into the courtyard. Keeping close to the house, he sauntered along
+until he reached the grated windows of the prison room. Three lamps were
+burning within, to enable the guard outside to watch the prisoners. He
+passed the two first windows; at the third a figure was standing. She
+shrank back as Bathurst stopped before it.
+
+“It is I, Miss Hannay--Bathurst. Danger threatens you, and you must
+escape at once. Rabda is waiting for you outside. Please go to the door
+and stand there until I open it. I have no doubt that I shall succeed,
+but if anything should go wrong, go and lie down again at once.”
+
+Without waiting for an answer, he moved towards the fire.
+
+“Is that you, Ahmed?” one of the warders said. “We all seem sleepy this
+evening, there is something in the air; I felt half inclined to go off
+myself.”
+
+“It is very hot tonight,” Bathurst replied.
+
+There was something in his voice unfamiliar to the man, and with an
+exclamation, “Who is it?” he sprang to his feet. But Bathurst was now
+but three paces away, and with a bound was upon him, bringing the tulwar
+down with such force upon his head that the man fell lifeless without a
+groan. The other two leaped up with shouts of “Treachery!” but Bathurst
+was upon them, and, aided by the surprise, cut both down after a sharp
+fight of half a minute. Then he ran to the prison door, turned the key
+in the lock, and opened it.
+
+“Come!” he exclaimed, “there is no time to be lost, the guards outside
+have taken the alarm,” for, by this time, there was a furious knocking
+at the gate. “Wrap yourself up in this native robe.”
+
+“But the others, Mr. Bathurst, can’t you save them too?”
+
+“Impossible,” he said. “Even if they got out, they would be overtaken
+and killed at once. Come!” And taking her hand, he led her to the gate.
+
+“Stand back here so that the gate will open on you,” he said. Then he
+undid the bar, shouting, “Treachery; the prisoners are escaping!”
+
+As he undid the last bolt the gate opened and the soldiers rushed in,
+firing at random as they did so. Bathurst had stepped behind the gate
+as it opened, and as the soldiers ran up the yard he took Isobel’s hand,
+and, passing through the gate, ran with her round the building until he
+reached the spot where Rabda was awaiting them. Half a minute later her
+father joined them.
+
+“Let us go at once, there is no time for talking,” he said. “We must be
+cautious, the firing will wake the whole quarter;” for by this time
+loud shouts were being raised, and men, hearing the muskets fired,
+were running towards the gate. Taking advantage of the shelter of the
+shrubbery as much as they could, they hurried on until they issued into
+the open country.
+
+“Do you feel strong enough to walk far?” Bathurst asked, speaking for
+the first time since they left the gate.
+
+“I think so,” she said; “I am not sure whether I am awake or dreaming.”
+
+“You are awake, Miss Hannay; you are safe out of that terrible prison.”
+
+“I am not sure,” the girl said, speaking slowly; “I have been strange
+since I went there. I have seemed to hear voices speaking to me, though
+no one was there, and no one else heard them; and I am not sure whether
+all this is not fancy now.”
+
+“It is reality, Miss Hannay. Take my hand and you will see that it
+is solid. The voices you heard were similar to those I heard at
+Deennugghur; they were messages I sent you by means of Rujub and his
+daughter.”
+
+“I did think of what you told me and about the juggler, but it seemed
+so strange. I thought that my brain was turning with trouble; it was
+bad enough at Deennugghur, but nothing to what it has been since that
+dreadful day at Bithoor. There did not seem much hope at Deennugghur.
+But somehow we all kept up, and, desperate as it seemed, I don’t think
+we ever quite despaired. You see, we all knew each other; besides, no
+one could give way while the men were fighting and working so hard for
+us; but at Cawnpore there seemed no hope. There was not one woman there
+but had lost husband or father. Most of them were indifferent to life,
+scarcely ever speaking, and seeming to move in a dream, while others
+with children sat holding them close to them as if they dreaded a
+separation at any moment. There were a few who were different, who moved
+about and nursed the children and sick, and tried to comfort the others,
+just as Mrs. Hunter did at Deennugghur. There was no crying and no
+lamenting. It would have been a relief if anyone had cried, it was the
+stillness that was so trying; when people talked to each other they did
+it in a whisper, as they do in a room where someone is lying dead.
+
+“You know Mary Hunter died yesterday? Well, Mrs. Hunter quite put aside
+her own grief and tried to cheer others. I told her the last message I
+received, and asked her to go with me if it should be true. She said,
+‘No, Isobel; I don’t know whether this message is a dream, or whether
+God has opened a way of escape for you--if so, may He be thanked; but
+you must go alone--one might escape where two could not. As for me, I
+shall wait here for whatever fate God may send me. My husband and
+my children have gone before me. I may do some good among these poor
+creatures, and here I shall stay. You are young and full of life, and
+have many happy days in store for you. My race is nearly run--even did
+I wish for life, I would not cumber you and your friends; there will be
+perils to encounter and fatigues to be undergone. Had not Mary left us I
+would have sent her with you, but God did not will it so. Go, therefore,
+to the window, dear, as you were told by this message you think you have
+received, but do not be disappointed if no one comes. If it turns out
+true, and there is a chance of escape, take it, dear, and may God be
+with you.’ As I stood at the window, I could not go at once, as you told
+me, to the door; I had to stand there; I saw it all till you turned and
+ran to the door, and then I came to meet you.”
+
+“It was a pity you saw it,” he said gently.
+
+“Why? Do you think that, after what I have gone through, I was shocked
+at seeing you kill three of those wretches? Two months ago I suppose I
+should have thought it dreadful, but those two months have changed us
+altogether. Think of what we were then and what we are now. There remain
+only you, Mrs. Hunter, myself, and your letter said, Mr. Wilson. Is he
+the only one?”
+
+“Yes, so far as we know.”
+
+“Only we four, and all the others gone--Uncle and Mary and Amy and the
+Doolans and the dear Doctor, all the children. Why, if the door had been
+open, and I had had a weapon, I would have rushed out to help you kill.
+I shudder at myself sometimes.”
+
+After a pause she went on. “Then none of those in the other boat came to
+shore, Mr. Bathurst, except Mr. Wilson?”
+
+“I fear not. The other boat sank directly. Wilson told me it was sinking
+as he sprang over. You had better not talk any more, Miss Hannay, for
+you are out of breath now, and will need all your strength.”
+
+“Yes, but tell me why you have taken me away; you said there was great
+danger?”
+
+“Our troops are coming up,” he said, “and I had reason to fear that when
+the rebels are defeated the mob may break open the prison.”
+
+“They surely could not murder women and children who have done them no
+harm!”
+
+“There is no saying what they might do, Miss Hannay, but that was the
+reason why I dared not leave you where you were. I will tell you more
+about it afterwards. Now, please take my arm, we must be miles away from
+here before morning. They will find out then that you have escaped, and
+will no doubt scour the country.”
+
+They had left the road and were passing through the fields. Isobel’s
+strength failed rapidly, as soon as the excitement that had at first
+kept her up subsided. Rujub several times urged Bathurst to go faster,
+but the girl hung more and more heavily on his arm.
+
+“I can’t go any farther,” she said at last; “it is so long since I
+walked, and I suppose I have got weak. I have tried very hard, but I can
+scarcely drag my feet along. You had better leave me; you have done all
+you could to save me. I thank you so much. Only please leave a pistol
+with me. I am not at all afraid of dying, but I will not fall into their
+hands again.”
+
+“We must carry her, Rujub,” Bathurst said; “she is utterly exhausted and
+worn out, and no wonder. If we could make a sort of stretcher, it would
+be easy enough.”
+
+Rujub took the cloth from his shoulders, and laid it on the ground by
+the side of Isobel, who had now sunk down and was lying helpless.
+
+“Lift her onto this, sahib, then we will take the four corners and carry
+her; it will be no weight.”
+
+Bathurst lifted Isobel, in spite of her feeble protest, and laid her on
+the cloth.
+
+“I will take the two corners by her head,” Bathurst said, “if you will
+each take one of the others.”
+
+“No, sahib, the weight is all at the head; you take one corner, and I
+will take the other. Rabda can take the two corners at the feet. We can
+change about when we like.”
+
+Isobel had lost greatly in weight since the siege of Deennugghur began,
+and she was but a light burden for her three bearers, who started with
+her at a speed considerably greater than that at which she had walked.
+
+“Which way are you taking us, Rujub?” Bathurst asked presently; “I have
+lost my bearings altogether.”
+
+“I am keeping near the river, sahib. I know the country well. We cannot
+follow the road, for there the Rajah’s troops and the Sepoys and the
+Oude men are gathered to oppose your people. They will fight tomorrow
+at Dong, as I told you, but the main body is not far from here. We must
+keep far away from them, and if your people take Dong we can then join
+them if we like. This road keeps near the river all the way, and we are
+not likely to meet Sepoys here, as it is by the other road the white
+troops are coming up.”
+
+After four hours’ walking, Rujub said, “There is a large wood just
+ahead. We will go in there. We are far enough off Cawnpore to be safe
+from any parties they may send out to search. If your people take
+Dong tomorrow, they will have enough to think of in Cawnpore without
+troubling about an escaped prisoner. Besides,” he added, “if the Rajah’s
+orders are carried out, at daybreak they will not know that a prisoner
+has escaped; they will not trouble to count.”
+
+“I cannot believe it possible they will carry out such a butchery,
+Rujub.”
+
+“We shall see, sahib. I did not tell you all I knew lest we should fail
+to carry off the lady, but I know the orders that have been given. Word
+has been sent round to the butchers of the town, and tomorrow morning
+soon after daybreak it will be done.”
+
+Bathurst gave an exclamation of horror, for until now he had hardly
+believed it was possible that even Nana Sahib could perpetrate so
+atrocious a massacre. Not another word was spoken until they entered the
+wood.
+
+“Where is the river, Rujub?”
+
+“A few hundred yards to the left, sahib; the road is half a mile to the
+right. We shall be quite safe here.”
+
+They made their way for some little distance into the wood, and then
+laid down their burden.
+
+They had taken to the spot where Rabda remained when the others went
+forward towards the prison a basket containing food and three bottles of
+wine, and this Rujub had carried since they started together. As soon as
+the hammock was lowered to the ground, Isobel moved and sat up.
+
+“I am rested now. Oh, how good you have all been! I was just going to
+tell you that I could walk again. I am quite ready to go on now.”
+
+“We are going to halt here till tomorrow evening, Miss Hannay; Rujub
+thinks we are quite beyond any risk of pursuit now. You must first
+eat and drink something, and then sleep as long as you can. Rabda has
+brought a native dress for you and dye for staining your skin, but there
+is no occasion for doing that till tomorrow; the river is only a short
+distance away, and in the morning you will be able to enjoy a wash.”
+
+The neck was knocked off a bottle. Rabda had brought in the basket a
+small silver cup, and Isobel, after drinking some wine and eating a few
+mouthfuls of food, lay down by her and was soon fast asleep. Bathurst
+ate a much more hearty meal. Rujub and his daughter said that they did
+not want anything before morning.
+
+The sun was high before Bathurst woke. Rujub had lighted a fire, and was
+boiling some rice in a lota.
+
+“Where is Miss Hannay?” Bathurst asked, as he sat up.
+
+“She has gone down to the river with Rabda. The trees hang down well
+over the water, and they can wash without fear of being seen on the
+opposite shore. I was going to wake you when the lady got up, but she
+made signs that you were to be allowed to sleep on.”
+
+In half an hour the two girls returned. Isobel was attired in a native
+dress, and her face, neck, arms, feet, and ankles had been stained to
+the same color as Rabda’s. She came forward a little timidly, for she
+felt strange and uncomfortable in her scanty attire. Bathurst gave an
+exclamation of pain as he saw her face.
+
+“How dreadfully, you have burnt yourself, Miss Hannay; surely you cannot
+have followed the instructions I gave you.”
+
+“No; it is not your fault at all, Mr. Bathurst; I put a great deal more
+on than you said, but I was so anxious to disfigure myself that I was
+determined to do it thoroughly; but it is nothing to what it was. As you
+see, my lips are getting all right again, and the sores are a good deal
+better than they were; I suppose they will leave scars, but that won’t
+trouble me.”
+
+“It is the pain you must have suffered that I am thinking of,” he
+replied. “As to the scars, I hope they will wear out in time; you must
+indeed have suffered horribly.”
+
+“They burnt dreadfully for a time,” the girl answered; “but for the last
+two or three days I have hardly felt it, though, of course, it is very
+sore still.”
+
+“Do you feel ready for breakfast, Miss Hannay?”
+
+“Quite ready, and for a walk as long as you like afterwards. I feel
+quite another creature after my dip. That was one of the worst things
+in the prison. We had scarcely water enough to drink, and none to wash
+with, and, of course, no combs nor anything.”
+
+They sat down together and ate the cold food they had brought, while
+Rabda and her father made their breakfast of rice.
+
+“What has become of Mr. Wilson?” Isobel asked suddenly. “I wondered
+about him as I was being carried along last night, but I was too tired
+to talk afterwards.”
+
+“I hope he is either safe at Allahabad by this time, or is with the
+troops marching up. The Zemindar’s son, who came down with us as an
+escort, and one of his men got safely to shore also, and they went on
+with Wilson. When he found I was going to stay at Cawnpore to try and
+rescue you, he pleaded very hard that I should keep him with me in order
+that he might share in the attempt, but his ignorance of the language
+might have been fatal, and his being with me would have greatly added
+to the difficulty, so I was obliged to refuse him. It was only because
+I told him that instead of adding to, he would lessen your chance of
+escape, that he consented to go, for I am sure he would willingly have
+laid down his life to save yours.”
+
+“I am very glad he is safe; he is very kind hearted and nice, Mr.
+Bathurst, and a thoroughly natural, unaffected young fellow, very loyal
+and stanch. I am quite sure he would have done anything he could, even
+at the risk of his life.”
+
+“I like him very much, too, Miss Hannay. Before the siege I thought him
+a careless, happy go lucky lad, but as I got to know him well, I found
+he was much more than that, and he will make a good man and an excellent
+officer one of these days if he is spared. He is thoroughly brave
+without the slightest brag--an excellent specimen of the best class of
+public school boy.”
+
+“And who are the troops coming up, Mr. Bathurst? How strong are they? I
+have heard nothing about them.”
+
+“About twelve hundred white troops and four or five hundred Sikhs; at
+least that is what the natives put them at.”
+
+“But surely they will never be able to fight their way to Cawnpore,
+where there are the mutineers and Nana Sahib’s troops and the Oude men
+and the people of the town. Why, there must be ten to one against them.”
+
+“Not far short of that, I think, but I feel sure our men will do it.
+They know of the treachery of the Nana, they know of the massacre by the
+river, and they know that the women and children are prisoners in his
+hands, and do you think that men who know these things can be beaten?
+The Sepoys met them in superior force and in a strong position at
+Futtehpore, and they drove them before them like chaff. They will have
+harder work next time, but I have no shadow of fear of the result.”
+
+Then their talk went back to Deennugghur and of their friends there--the
+Doolans, the Hunters, the Rintouls, and others--and Isobel wept freely
+over their fate.
+
+“Next to my uncle I shall miss the Doctor,” she said.
+
+“He was an awfully good fellow,” Bathurst said, “and was the only real
+friend I have had since I came to India, I would have done anything for
+him.”
+
+“When shall we start?” Isobel asked presently.
+
+“Directly the sun goes down a little. You would find it terribly hot
+now. I have been talking it over with Rujub, and he says it is better
+not to make a long journey today. We are not more than twenty miles from
+Dong, and it would not do to move in that direction until we know how
+things have gone; therefore, if we start at three o’clock and walk till
+seven or eight, it will be quite far enough.”
+
+“He seems a wonderful man,” said Isobel. “You remember that talk we had
+at dinner, before we went to see him at the Hunters!”
+
+“Yes,” he said. “As you know, I was a believer then, and so was the
+Doctor. I need not say that I believe still more now that these men do
+wholly unaccountable feats. He put the sentry outside the walls of your
+prison and five out of your eight warders so sound asleep that they did
+not wake during the struggle I had with the others. That, of course,
+was mesmerism. His messages to you were actually sent by means of his
+daughter. She was put in a sort of trance, in which she saw you and told
+us what you were doing, and communicated the message her father gave her
+to you. He could not send you a message nor tell me about you when you
+were first at Bithoor, because he said Rabda was not in sympathy with
+you, but after she had seen you and touched you and you had kissed her,
+she was able to do so. There does not appear to me to be anything beyond
+the powers of nature in that, though doubtless powers were called into
+play of which at present we know nothing. But we do know that minds act
+upon each other. Possibly certain persons in sympathy with each other
+may be able to act upon each other from a distance, especially when
+thrown into the sort of trance which is known as the clairvoyant state.
+I always used to look upon that as humbug, but I need hardly say I shall
+in future be ready to believe almost anything. He professes to have
+other and even greater powers than what we have seen. At any rate, he
+can have no motive in deceiving me when he has risked his life to help
+me. Do you know, Rabda offered to go into the prison--her father could
+have got her an order to pass in--and then to let you go out in her
+dress while she remained in your stead. I could not accept the sacrifice
+even to save you, and I was sure had I done so you yourself would have
+refused to leave.”
+
+“Of course. But how good of her. Please tell her that you have told me,
+and how grateful I am for her offer.”
+
+Bathurst called Rabda, who was sitting a short distance away.
+
+She took the hand that Isobel held out to her and placed it against her
+forehead.
+
+“My life is yours, sahib,” she said simply to Bathurst. “It was right
+that I should give it for this lady you love.”
+
+“What does she say?” Isobel asked.
+
+“She says that she owed me her life for that tiger business, you know,
+and was ready to give it for you because I had set my mind on saving
+you.”
+
+“Is that what she really said, Mr. Bathurst?” Isobel asked quietly, for
+he had hesitated a little in changing its wording.
+
+“That was the sense of it, I can assure you. Not only was she ready
+to make the sacrifice, but her father consented to her doing so. These
+Hindoos are capable of gratitude, you see. There are not many English
+who would be ready thus to sacrifice themselves for a man who had
+accidentally, as I may say, saved their lives.”
+
+“Not accidentally, Mr. Bathurst. Why do you always try to run yourself
+down? I suppose you will say next you saved my life by an accident.”
+
+“The saving of your life is due chiefly to these natives.”
+
+“But they were only your instruments, Mr. Bathurst; they had no interest
+in saving me. You had bought their services at the risk of your life,
+and in saving me they were paying that debt to you.”
+
+At three o’clock they prepared for the start. Bathurst had exchanged the
+warder’s dress for one of a peasant, which they had brought with them.
+The woods were of no great width, and Rujub said they had better follow
+the road now.
+
+“No one will suspect us of being anything but what we seem,” he said.
+“Should we meet any peasants, their talk will be with you and me. They
+will ask no questions about the women; but if there is a woman among
+them, and she speaks, Rabda will answer her.”
+
+For hours they had heard dull sounds in the air, which Bathurst had
+recognized at once as distant artillery, showing that the fight was
+going on near Dong.
+
+“The Sepoys are making a stout resistance, or the firing would not last
+so long,” he said to Rujub, as they walked through the wood towards the
+road.
+
+“They have two positions to defend, sahib. The Nana’s men will fight
+first at a strong village two miles beyond Dong; if they are beaten
+there, they will fight again at the bridge I told you of.”
+
+“That would partly account for it; but the Sepoys must be fighting much
+better than they did at Futtehpore, for there, as you said, the white
+troops swept the Sepoys before them.”
+
+When they reached the edge of the wood Bathurst said, “I will see that
+the road is clear before we go out. If anyone saw us issuing out of the
+wood they might wonder what we had been after.”
+
+He went to the edge of the bushes and looked down the long straight
+road. There was only a solitary figure in sight. It seemed to be an old
+man walking lame with a stick. Bathurst was about to turn and tell the
+others to come out, when he saw the man stop suddenly, turn round to
+look back along the road, stand with his head bent as if listening, then
+run across the road with much more agility than he had before seemed to
+possess, and plunge in among the trees.
+
+“Wait,” he said to those behind him, “something is going on. A peasant I
+saw in the road has suddenly dived into the wood as if he was afraid of
+being pursued. Ah!” he exclaimed a minute later, “there is a party of
+horsemen coming along at a gallop--get farther back into the wood.”
+
+Presently they heard the rapid trampling of horses, and looking through
+the bushes they saw some twenty sowars of one of the native cavalry
+regiments dash past.
+
+Bathurst went to the edge of the wood again, and looked out. Then he
+turned suddenly to Isobel.
+
+“You remember those pictures on the smoke?” he said excitedly.
+
+“No, I do not remember them,” she said, in surprise. “I have often
+wondered at it, but I have never been able to recollect what they were
+since that evening. I have often thought they were just like dreams,
+where one sees everything just as plainly as if it were a reality, and
+then go out of your mind altogether as soon as you are awake.”
+
+“It has been just the same with me,” replied Bathurst, “except that once
+or twice they have come back for a moment quite vividly. One of them
+I have not thought of for some days, but now I see it again. Don’t you
+remember there was a wood, and a Hindoo man and woman stepped out of it,
+and a third native came up to them?”
+
+“Yes, I remember now,” she said eagerly; “it was just as we are here;
+but what of that, Mr. Bathurst?”
+
+“Did you recognize any of them?”
+
+“Yes, yes, it all comes back to me now. It was you and the Doctor,
+certainly, and I thought the woman was myself. I spoke to the Doctor
+next day about it, but he laughed at it all, and I have never thought of
+it since.”
+
+“The Doctor and I agreed, when we talked it over that evening, that the
+Hindoo who stepped out of the wood was myself, and thought that you were
+the Hindoo girl, but of that we were not so sure, for your face seemed
+not only darkened, but blotched and altered--it was just as you are
+now--and the third native was the Doctor himself; we both felt certain
+of that. It has come true, and I feel absolutely certain that the native
+I saw along the road will turn out to be the Doctor.”
+
+“Oh, I hope so, I hope so!” the girl cried, and pressed forward with
+Bathurst to the edge of the wood.
+
+The old native was coming along on the road again. As he approached, his
+eye fell on the two figures, and with a Hindoo salutation he was passing
+on, when Isobel cried, “It is the Doctor!” and rushing forward she threw
+her arms round his neck.
+
+“Isobel Hannay!” he cried in delight and amazement; “my dear little
+girl, my dear little girl, thank God you are saved; but what have you
+been doing with yourself, and who is this with you?”
+
+“You knew me when you saw me in the picture on the smoke, Doctor,”
+ Bathurst said, grasping his hand, “though you do not know me in life.”
+
+“You, too, Bathurst!” the Doctor exclaimed, as he wrung his hand; “thank
+God for that, my dear boy; to think that both of you should have been
+saved--it seems a miracle. The picture on the smoke? Yes, we were
+speaking of it that last night at Deennugghur, and I never have thought
+of it since. Is there anyone else?”
+
+“My friend the juggler and his daughter are with us, Doctor.”
+
+“Then I can understand the miracle,” the Doctor said, “for I believe
+that fellow could take you through the air and carry you through stone
+walls with a wave of his hand.”
+
+“Well, he has not exactly done that, but he and his daughter have
+rendered us immense service. I could have done nothing without them.”
+
+The two natives, seeing through the bushes the recognition that had
+taken place, had now stepped forward and salaamed as the Doctor spoke a
+few hearty words to them.
+
+“But where have you sprung from, Doctor? How were you saved?”
+
+“I jumped overboard when those scoundrels opened fire,” the Doctor said.
+“I kept my wits about me, and said to myself that if I were to swim for
+the opposite shore the chances were that I should get shot down, so I
+made a long dive, came up for air, and then went down again, and came up
+the next time under some bushes by the bank; there I remained all night.
+The villains were only a few yards away, and I could hear every word
+they said. I heard the boat come ashore, and although I could have done
+no good by rushing out, I think I should have done so if I had had any
+weapon about me, and have tried to kill one or two of them before I went
+down. As it was, I waited until morning. Then I heard the rumble of the
+guns and the wagons, and knew that they were off. I waited for another
+hour to make sure, and then stepped ashore. I went to the boat lying
+by the bank. When I saw that Isobel and the other two ladies were not
+there, I knew that they must have been carried off into Cawnpore. I
+waited there until night, and then made my way to a peasant’s house
+a mile out of the town. I had operated upon him for elephantiasis two
+years ago, and the man had shown himself grateful, and had occasionally
+sent me in little presents of fowls and so on. He received me well, gave
+me food, which I wanted horribly, stained my skin, and rigged me out in
+this disguise. The next morning I went into the town, and for the last
+four or five days have wandered about there. There was nothing I could
+do, and yet I felt that I could not go away, but must stay within sight
+of the prison where you were all confined till our column arrived.
+But this morning I determined to come down to join our people who are
+fighting their way up, little thinking that I should light upon you by
+the way.”
+
+“We were just going to push on, Doctor; but as you have had a good long
+tramp already, we will stop here until tomorrow morning, if you like.”
+
+“No, no, let us go on, Bathurst. I would rather be on the move, and you
+can tell me your story as we go.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII.
+
+
+Bathurst knew the Doctor well, and perceived that glad as he was to have
+met them, he was yet profoundly depressed in spirits. This, added to the
+fact that he had left Cawnpore that morning, instead of waiting as he
+had intended, convinced Bathurst that what he dreaded had taken place.
+He waited until Isobel stopped for a moment, that Rabda might rearrange
+the cloth folded round her in its proper draping. Then he said quickly,
+“I heard yesterday what was intended, Doctor. Is it possible that it has
+been done?”
+
+“It was done this morning.”
+
+“What, all? Surely not all, Doctor?”
+
+“Every soul--every woman and child. Think of it--the fiends! the devils!
+The native brought me the news. If I had heard it in the streets of
+Cawnpore I should have gone mad and seized a sword and run amuck. As it
+was, I was well nigh out of mind. I could not stay there. The man would
+have sheltered me until the troops came up, but I was obliged to be
+moving, so I started down. Hush! here comes Isobel; we must keep it from
+her.”
+
+“Now, Isobel,” he went on, as the girl joined them, and they all started
+along the road, “tell me how it is I find you here.”
+
+“Mr. Bathurst must tell you, Doctor; I cannot talk about it yet--I can
+hardly think about it.”
+
+“Well, Bathurst, let us hear it from you.”
+
+“It is a painful story for me to have to tell.”
+
+Isobel looked up in surprise.
+
+“Painful, Mr. Bathurst? I should have thought--” and she stopped.
+
+“Not all painful, Miss Hannay, but in parts. I would rather tell
+you, Doctor, when we have finished our journey this evening, if your
+curiosity will allow you to wait so long.”
+
+“I will try to wait,” the Doctor replied, “though I own it is a trial.
+Now, Isobel, you have not told me yet what has happened to your face.
+Let me look at it closer, child. I see your arms are bad, too. What on
+earth has happened to you?”
+
+
+“I burnt myself with acid, Doctor. Mr. Bathurst will tell you all about
+it.”
+
+“Bless me, mystery seems to thicken. Well, you have got yourself into a
+pretty pickle. Why, child, burns of that sort leave scars as bad as if
+you had been burnt by fire. You ought to be in a dark room with your
+face and hands bandaged, instead of tramping along here in the sun.”
+
+“I have some lotions and some ointment, Doctor. I have used them
+regularly since it was done, and the places don’t hurt me much now.”
+
+“No, they look healthy enough,” he said, examining them closely.
+“Granulation is going on nicely; but I warn you you will be disfigured
+for months, and it may be years before you get rid of the scars. I
+doubt, indeed, if you will ever get rid of them altogether. Well, well,
+what shall we talk about?”
+
+“I will take pity on you, Doctor. I will walk on ahead with Rabda and
+her father, and Mr. Bathurst can then tell you his story.”
+
+“That will be the best plan, my dear. Now then, Bathurst, fire away,” he
+said, when the others had gone on thirty or forty yards ahead.
+
+“Well, Doctor, you remember that you were forward talking to the young
+Zemindar, and I was sitting aft by the side of Miss Hannay, when they
+opened fire?”
+
+“I should think I do remember it,” the Doctor said, “and I am not likely
+to forget it if I live to be a hundred. Well, what about that?”
+
+“I jumped overboard,” Bathurst said, laying his hand impressively
+upon the Doctor’s shoulder. “I gave a cry, I know I did, and I jumped
+overboard.”
+
+The Doctor looked at him in astonishment.
+
+“Well, so did I, like a shot. But what do you say it in that tone for?
+Of course you jumped overboard. If you hadn’t you would not be here
+now.”
+
+“You don’t understand me, Doctor,” Bathurst said gloomily. “I was
+sitting there next to Isobel Hannay--the woman I loved. We were talking
+in low tones, and I don’t know why, but at that moment the mad thought
+was coming into my mind that, after all, she cared for me, that in spite
+of the disgrace I had brought upon myself, in spite of being a coward,
+she might still be mine; and as I was thinking this there came the
+crash of a cannon. Can it be imagined possible that I jumped up like
+a frightened hare, and without a thought of her, without a thought of
+anything in my mad terror, jumped overboard and left her behind to her
+fate? If it had not been that as soon as I recovered my senses--I was
+hit on the head just as I landed, and knew nothing of what happened
+until I found myself in the bushes with young Wilson by my side--the
+thought occurred to me that I would rescue her or die in the attempt, I
+would have blown out my brains.”
+
+“But, bless my heart, Bathurst,” the Doctor said earnestly, “what else
+could you have done? Why, I jumped overboard without stopping to think,
+and so did everyone else who had power to do so, no doubt. What good
+could you have done if you had stayed? What good would it have done to
+the girl if you had been killed? Why, if you had been killed, she would
+now be lying mangled and dead with the others in that ghastly prison.
+You take too morbid a view of this matter altogether.”
+
+“There was no reason why you should not have jumped overboard, Doctor,
+nor the others. Don’t you see I was with the woman I loved? I might have
+seized her in my arms and jumped overboard with her, and swam ashore
+with her, or I might have stayed and died with her. I thought of my own
+wretched life, and I deserted her.”
+
+“My dear Bathurst, you did not think of your life. I don’t think any
+of us stopped to think of anything; but, constituted as you are, the
+impulse must have been overpowering. It is nonsense your taking this
+matter to heart. Why, man, if you had stopped, you would have been
+murdered when the boat touched the shore, and do you think it would have
+made her happier to have seen you killed before her eyes? If you had
+swam ashore with her, the chances are she would have been killed by that
+volley of grape, for I saw eight or ten bodies lying on the sands, and
+you yourself were, you say, hit. You acted upon impulse, I grant, but
+it was upon a wise impulse. You did the very best thing that could have
+been done, and your doing so made it possible that Isobel Hannay should
+be rescued from what would otherwise have been certain death.”
+
+“It has turned out so, Doctor,” Bathurst said gloomily, “and I thank God
+that she is saved. But that does not alter the fact that I, an English
+gentleman by birth, thought only of myself, and left the woman I loved,
+who was sitting by my side, to perish. But do not let us talk any more
+about it. It is done and over. There is an end of it. Now I will tell
+you the story.”
+
+The Doctor listened silently until he heard of Isobel’s being taken to
+Bithoor. “The atrocious villain!” he exclaimed. “I have been lamenting
+the last month that I never poisoned the fellow, and now--but go on, go
+on. How on earth did you get her away?”
+
+Bathurst told the whole story, interrupted by many exclamations of
+approval by the Doctor; especially when he learned why Isobel disfigured
+herself.
+
+“Well done!” he exclaimed; “I always knew that she was a plucky girl,
+and it needed courage, I can tell you, to burn herself as she has
+done, to say nothing of risking spoiling her beauty for life. No slight
+sacrifice for a woman.”
+
+Bathurst passed lightly over his fight in the courtyard, but the Doctor
+questioned him as to the exact facts.
+
+“Not so bad for a coward, Bathurst,” he said dryly.
+
+“There was no noise,” Bathurst said; “if they had had pistols, and had
+used them, it might have been different. Heaven knows, but I don’t think
+that then, with her life at stake, I should have flinched; I had made
+up my mind they would have pistols, but I hope--I think that my nerves
+would not have given way then.”
+
+“I am sure they wouldn’t, Bathurst. Well, go on with your story.”
+
+“Well, how did you feel then?” he asked, when Bathurst described how the
+guard rushed in through the gate firing, “for it is the noise, and not
+the danger, that upsets you?”
+
+“I did not even think of it,” Bathurst said, in some surprise. “Now you
+mention it, I am astonished that I was not for a minute paralyzed, as
+I always am, but I did not feel anything of the sort; they rushed in
+firing as I told you, and directly they had gone I took her hand and we
+ran out together.”
+
+“I think it quite possible, Bathurst, that your nervousness may have
+gone forever. Now that once you have heard guns fired close to you
+without your nerves giving way as usual, it is quite possible that
+you might do so again. I don’t say that you would, but it is possible,
+indeed it seems to me to be probable. It may be that the sudden shock
+when you jumped into the water, acting upon your nerves when in a state
+of extreme tension, may have set them right, and that bullet graze
+along the top of the skull may have aided the effect of the shock. Men
+frequently lose their nerve after a heavy fall from a horse, or a sudden
+attack by a tiger, or any other unexpected shock. It may be that with
+you it has had the reverse consequence.”
+
+“I hope to God that it may be so, Doctor,” Bathurst said, with deep
+earnestness. “It is certainly extraordinary I should not have felt
+it when they fired within a few feet of my head. If we get down to
+Allahabad I will try. I will place myself near a gun when it is going to
+be fired; and if I stand that I will come up again and join this column
+as a volunteer, and take part in the work of vengeance. If I can but
+once bear my part as a man, they are welcome to kill me in the next
+engagement.”
+
+“Pooh! pooh! man. You are not born to be killed in battle. After making
+yourself a target on the roof at Deennugghur, and jumping down in the
+middle of the Sepoys in the breach, and getting through that attack in
+the boats, I don’t think you are fated to meet your end with a bullet.
+Well, now let us walk on, and join the others. Isobel must be wondering
+how much longer we are going to talk together. She cannot exchange a
+word with the natives; it must be dull work for her. She is a great
+deal thinner than she was before these troubles came on. You see how
+differently she walks. She has quite lost that elastic step of hers, but
+I dare say that is a good deal due to her walking with bare feet instead
+of in English boots--boots have a good deal to do with a walk. Look at
+the difference between the walk of a gentleman who has always worn well
+fitting boots and that of a countryman who has gone about in thick iron
+shod boots all his life. Breeding goes for something, no doubt, and
+alters a man’s walk just as it alters a horse’s gait.”
+
+Bathurst could not help laughing at the Doctor dropping into his usual
+style of discussing things.
+
+“Are your feet feeling tender, Isobel?” the latter asked cheerfully, as
+he overtook those in front.
+
+“No, Doctor,” she said, with a smile; “I don’t know that I was ever
+thankful for dust before, but I am now; it is so soft that it is like
+walking on a carpet, but, of course, it feels very strange.”
+
+“You have only to fancy, my dear, that you are by the seaside, walking
+down from your bathing machine across the sands; once get that in your
+mind and you will get perfectly comfortable.”
+
+“It requires too great a stretch of the imagination, Doctor, to think
+for a moment, in this sweltering heat, that I am enjoying a sea breeze
+on our English coast. It is silly, of course, to give it even a thought,
+when one is accustomed to see almost every woman without shoes. I think
+I should mind it more than I do if my feet were not stained. I don’t
+know why, but I should. But please don’t talk about it. I try to forget
+it, and to fancy that I am really a native.”
+
+They met but few people on the road. Those they did meet passed them
+with the usual salutation. There was nothing strange in a party of
+peasants passing along the road. They might have been at work at
+Cawnpore, and be now returning to their native village to get away from
+the troubles there. After it became dark they went into a clump of trees
+half a mile distant from a village they could see along the road.
+
+“I will go in,” Rujub said, “and bring some grain, and hear what the
+news is.”
+
+He returned in an hour. “The English have taken Dong,” he said; “the
+news came in two hours ago. There has been some hard fighting; the
+Sepoys resisted stoutly at the village, even advancing beyond the
+inclosures to meet the British. They were driven back by the artillery
+and rifle fire, but held the village for some time before they were
+turned out. There was a stand made at the Pandoo Bridge, but it was a
+short one. The force massed there fell back at once when the British
+infantry came near enough to rush forward at the charge, and in their
+hurry they failed to blow up the bridge.”
+
+A consultation was held as to whether they should try to join the
+British, but it was decided that as the road down to Allahabad would be
+rendered safe by their advance, it would be better to keep straight on.
+
+The next day they proceeded on their journey, walking in the early
+morning, halting as soon as the sun had gained much power, and going on
+again in the cool of the evening. After three days’ walking they reached
+the fort of Allahabad. It was crowded with ladies who had come in from
+the country round. Most of the men were doing duty with the garrison,
+but some thirty had gone up with Havelock’s column as volunteer cavalry,
+his force being entirely deficient in that arm.
+
+As soon as the Doctor explained who they were, they were received with
+the greatest kindness, and Isobel was at once carried off by the ladies,
+while Bathurst and the Doctor were surrounded by an eager group anxious
+to hear the state of affairs at Cawnpore, and how they had escaped. The
+news of the fighting at Dong was already known; for on the evening of
+the day of the fight Havelock had sent down a mounted messenger to say
+the resistance was proving so severe that he begged some more troops
+might be sent up. As all was quiet now at Allahabad, where there had at
+first been some fierce fighting, General Neil, who was in command there,
+had placed two hundred and thirty men of the 84th Regiment in bullock
+vans, and had himself gone on with them.
+
+The Doctor had decided to keep the news of the massacre to himself.
+
+“They will know it before many hours are over, Bathurst,” he said; “and
+were I to tell them, half of them wouldn’t believe me, and the other
+half would pester my life out with questions. There is never any
+occasion to hurry in telling bad news.”
+
+The first inquiry of Bathurst and his friends had been for Wilson, and
+they found to their great pleasure that he had arrived in safety, and
+had gone up with the little body of cavalry. Captain Forster, whom they
+next asked for, had not reached Allahabad, and no news had been heard of
+him.
+
+“What are you going to do, Rujub?” Bathurst asked the native next
+morning.
+
+“I shall go to Patna,” he said. “I have friends there, and I shall
+remain in the city until these troubles are over. I believe now that you
+were right, sahib, although I did not think so when you spoke, and that
+the British Raj will be restored. I thought, as did the Sepoys, that
+they were a match for the British troops. I see now that I was wrong.
+But there is a tremendous task before them. There is all Oude and the
+Northwest to conquer, and fully two hundred thousand men in arms against
+them, but I believe that they will do it. They are a great people, and
+now I do not wish it otherwise. This afternoon I shall start.”
+
+The Doctor, who had found many acquaintances in Allahabad, had no
+difficulty in obtaining money from the garrison treasury, and Bathurst
+and Isobel purchased the two handsomest bracelets they could obtain from
+the ladies in the fort as a souvenir for Rabda, and gave them to her
+with the heartiest expressions of their deep gratitude to her and her
+father.
+
+“I shall think of you always, Rabda,” Isobel said, “and shall be
+grateful to the end of my life for the kindness that you have done us.
+Your father has given us your address at Patna, and I shall write to you
+often.”
+
+“I shall never forget you, lady; and even the black water will not quite
+separate us. As I knew how you were in prison, so I shall know how you
+are in your home in England. What we have done is little. Did not the
+sahib risk his life for me? My father and I will never forget what we
+owe him. I am glad to know that you will make him happy.”
+
+This was said in the room that had been allotted to Isobel, an ayah of
+one of the ladies in the fort acting as interpreter. The girl had woke
+up in the morning flushed and feverish, and the Doctor, when sent for,
+told her she must keep absolutely quiet.
+
+“I am afraid I am going to have her on my hands for a bit,” he said to
+Bathurst. “She has borne the strain well, but she looks to me as if she
+was going to have a smart attack of fever. It is well that we got her
+here before it showed itself. You need not look scared; it is just the
+reaction. If it had been going to be brain fever or anything of that
+sort, I should have expected her to break down directly you got her out.
+No, I don’t anticipate anything serious, and I am sure I hope that it
+won’t be so. I have put my name down to go up with the next batch of
+volunteers. Doctors will be wanted at the front, and I hope to have a
+chance of wiping out my score with some of those scoundrels. However,
+though I think she is going to be laid up, I don’t fancy it will last
+many days.”
+
+That afternoon a messenger from Havelock brought down the terrible news
+that they had fought their way to Cawnpore, only to find that the whole
+of the ladies and children in the Subada Ke Kothee had been massacred,
+and their bodies thrown down a well. The grief and indignation caused by
+the news were terrible; scarce one but had friends among the prisoners.
+Women wept; men walked up and down, wild with fury at being unable to do
+aught at present to avenge the massacre.
+
+“What are you going to do, Bathurst?” the Doctor asked that evening. “I
+suppose you have some sort of plan?”
+
+“I do not know yet. In the first place, I want to try whether what you
+said the other day is correct, and if I can stand the noise of firing
+without flinching.”
+
+“We can’t try here in the fort,” the Doctor said, full of interest
+in the experiment; “a musket shot would throw the whole garrison into
+confusion, and at present no one can go far from the gate; however,
+there may be a row before long, and then you will have an opportunity
+of trying. If there is not, we will go out together half a mile or so as
+soon as some more troops get up. You said, when we were talking about it
+at Deennugghur, you should resign your appointment and go home, but if
+you find your nerves are all right you may change your mind about that.
+How about the young lady in there?”
+
+“Well, Doctor, I should say that you, as her father’s friend, are the
+person to make arrangements for her. Just at present travel is not very
+safe, but I suppose that directly things quiet down a little many of the
+ladies will be going down to the coast, and no doubt some of them would
+take charge of Miss Hannay back to England.”
+
+“And you mean to have nothing to say in the matter?”
+
+“Nothing at all,” he said firmly. “I have already told you my views on
+the subject.”
+
+“Well, then,” the Doctor said hotly, “I regard you as an ass.” And
+without another word he walked off in great anger.
+
+For the next four or five days Isobel was in a high state of fever; it
+passed off as the Doctor had predicted it would do, but left her very
+weak and languid. Another week and she was about again.
+
+“What is Mr. Bathurst going to do?” she asked the Doctor the first day
+she was up on a couch.
+
+“I don’t know what he is going to do, my dear,” he said irritably; “my
+opinion of Bathurst is that he is a fool.”
+
+“Oh, Doctor, how can you say so!” she exclaimed in astonishment; “why,
+what has he done?”
+
+“It isn’t what he has done, but what he won’t do, my dear. Here he is in
+love with a young woman in every way suitable, and who is ready to say
+yes whenever he asks her, and he won’t ask, and is not going to ask,
+because of a ridiculous crotchet he has got in his head.”
+
+Isobel flushed and then grew pale.
+
+“What is the crotchet?” she asked, in a low tone, after being silent for
+some time.
+
+“What do you think, my dear? He is more disgusted with himself than
+ever.”
+
+“Not about that nervousness, surely,” Isobel said, “after all he has
+done and the way he has risked his life? Surely that cannot be troubling
+him?”
+
+“It is, my dear; not so much on the general as on a particular ground.
+He insists that by jumping out of the boat when that fire began, he has
+done for himself altogether.”
+
+“But what could he have done, Doctor?”
+
+“That’s what I ask him, my dear. He insists that he ought to either have
+seized you and jumped overboard with you, in which case you would both
+probably have been killed, as I pointed out to him, or else stayed
+quietly with you by your side, in which case, as I also pointed out
+to him, you would have had the satisfaction of seeing him murdered. He
+could not deny that this would have been so, but that in no way alters
+his opinion of his own conduct. I also ventured to point out to him that
+if he had been killed, you would at this moment be either in the power
+of that villainous Nana, or be with hundreds of others in that ghastly
+well at Cawnpore. I also observed to him that I, who do not regard
+myself as a coward, also jumped overboard from your boat, and that
+Wilson, who is certainly a plucky young fellow, and a number of others,
+jumped over from the other boat; but I might as well have talked to a
+post.”
+
+Isobel sat for some time silent, her fingers playing nervously with each
+other.
+
+“Of course it seems foolish of him to think of it so strongly, but I
+don’t think it is unnatural he should feel as he does.”
+
+“May I ask why?” the Doctor said sarcastically.
+
+“I mean, Doctor, it would be foolish of other people, but I don’t think
+it is foolish of him. Of course he could have done no good staying in
+the boat--he would have simply thrown away his life; and yet I think,
+I feel sure, that there are many men who would have thrown away their
+lives in such a case. Even at that moment of terror I felt a pang, when,
+without a word, he sprang overboard. I thought of it many times that
+long night, in spite of my grief for my uncle and the others, and my
+horror of being a prisoner in the hands of the Sepoys. I did not blame
+him, because I knew how he must have felt, and that it was done in a
+moment of panic. I was not so sorry for myself as for him, for I knew
+that if he escaped, the thought of that moment would be terrible for
+him. I need not say that in my mind the feeling that he should not
+have left me so has been wiped out a thousand times by what he did
+afterwards, by the risk he ran for me, and the infinite service he
+rendered me by saving me from a fate worse than death. But I can enter
+into his feelings. Most men would have jumped over just as he did, and
+would never have blamed themselves even if they had at once started away
+down the country to save their own lives, much less if they had stopped
+to save mine as he has done.
+
+“But who can wonder that he is more sensitive than others? Did he not
+hear from you that I said that a coward was contemptible? Did not all
+the men except you and my uncle turn their backs upon him and treat him
+with contempt, in spite of his effort to meet his death by standing up
+on the roof? Think how awfully he must have suffered, and then, when it
+seemed that his intervention, which saved our lives, had to some extent
+won him back the esteem of the men around him, that he should so fail
+again, as he considers, and that with me beside him. No wonder that he
+takes the view he does, and that he refuses to consider that even the
+devotion and courage he afterwards showed can redeem what he considers
+is a disgrace. You always said that he was brave, Doctor, and I believe
+now there is no braver man living; but that makes it so much the worse
+for him. A coward would be more than satisfied with himself for what he
+did afterwards, and would regard it as having completely wiped out any
+failing, while he magnifies the failing, such as it was, and places but
+small weight on what he afterwards did. I like him all the better for
+it. I know the fault, if fault it was, and I thought it so at the time,
+was one for which he was not responsible, and yet I like him all the
+better that he feels it so deeply.”
+
+“Well, my dear, you had better tell him so,” the Doctor said dryly. “I
+really agree with what you say, and you make an excellent advocate. I
+cannot do better than leave the matter in your hands. You know, child,”
+ he said, changing his tone, “I have from the first wished for Bathurst
+and you to come together, and if you don’t do so I shall say you are
+the most wrong headed young people I ever met. He loves you, and I don’t
+think there is any question about your feelings, and you ought to make
+matters right somehow. Unfortunately, he is a singularly pig headed man
+when he gets an idea in his mind. However, I hope that it will come all
+right. By the way, he asked were you well enough to see him today?”
+
+“I would rather not see him till tomorrow,” the girl said.
+
+“And I think too that you had better not see him until tomorrow, Isobel.
+Your cheeks are flushed now, and your hands are trembling, and I do not
+want you laid up again, so I order you to keep yourself perfectly quiet
+for the rest of the day.”
+
+But it was not till two days later that Bathurst came up to see her.
+
+The spies brought in, late that evening, the news that a small party of
+the Sepoy cavalry, with two guns, were at a village three miles on the
+other side of the town, and were in communication with the disaffected.
+It was decided at once by the officer who had succeeded General Neil
+in the command of the fort that a small party of fifty infantry,
+accompanied by ten or twelve mounted volunteers, should go out and
+attack them. Bathurst sent in his name to form one of the party as soon
+as he learned the news, borrowing the horse of an officer who was laid
+up ill.
+
+The expedition started two hours before daybreak, and, making a long
+detour, fell upon the Sepoys at seven o’clock. The latter, who had
+received news half an hour before of their approach, made a stand,
+relying on their cannon. The infantry, however, moved forward in
+skirmishing order, their fire quickly silenced the guns, and they then
+rushed forward while the little troop of volunteers charged.
+
+The fight lasted but a few minutes, at the end of which time the enemy
+galloped off in all directions, leaving their guns in the hands of the
+victors. Four of the infantry had been killed by the explosion of a well
+aimed shell, and five of the volunteers were wounded in the hand to hand
+fight with the sowars. The Sepoys’ guns and artillery horses had been
+captured.
+
+The party at once set out on their return. On their way they had some
+skirmishing with the rabble of the town, who had heard the firing, but
+they were beaten off without much difficulty, and the victors re-entered
+the fort in triumph. The Doctor was at the gate as they came in.
+Bathurst sprang from his horse and held out his hand. His radiant face
+told its own story.
+
+“Thank God, Doctor, it has passed. I don’t think my pulse went a beat
+faster when the guns opened on us, and the crackle of our own musketry
+had no more effect. I think it has gone forever.”
+
+“I am glad indeed, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, warmly grasping his hand.
+“I hoped that it might be so.”
+
+“No words can express how grateful I feel,” Bathurst said. “The cloud
+that shadowed my life seems lifted, and henceforth I shall be able to
+look a man in the face.”
+
+“You are wounded, I see,” the Doctor said.
+
+“Yes, I had a pistol ball through my left arm. I fancy the bone is
+broken, but that is of no consequence.”
+
+“A broken arm is no trifle,” the Doctor said, “especially in a climate
+like this. Come into the hospital at once and let me see to it.”
+
+One of the bones of the forearm was indeed broken, and the Doctor,
+having applied splints and bandages, peremptorily ordered him to lie
+down. Bathurst protested that he was perfectly able to get up with his
+arm in a sling.
+
+“I know you are able,” the Doctor said testily; “but if you were to go
+about in this oven, we should very likely have you in a high fever by
+tomorrow morning. Keep yourself perfectly quiet for today; by tomorrow,
+if you have no signs of fever, and the wound is doing well, we will see
+about it.”
+
+Upon leaving him Dr. Wade went out and heard the details of the fight.
+
+“Your friend Bathurst particularly distinguished himself,” the officer
+who commanded the volunteers said. “He cut down the ressaldar who
+commanded the Sepoys, and was in the thick of it. I saw him run one
+sowar through and shoot another. I am not surprised at his fighting
+so well after what you have gone through in Deennugghur and in that
+Cawnpore business.”
+
+The Doctor then went up to see Isobel. She looked flushed and excited.
+
+“Is it true, Doctor, that Mr. Bathurst went out with the volunteers, and
+that he is wounded?”
+
+“Both items are true, my dear. Fortunately the wound is not serious. A
+ball has broken the small bone of the left forearm, but I don’t think it
+will lay him up for long; in fact, he objects strongly to go to bed.”
+
+“But how did he--how is it he went out to fight, Doctor? I could hardly
+believe it when I was told, though of course I did not say so.”
+
+“My dear, it was an experiment. He told me that he did not feel at all
+nervous when the Sepoys rushed in at the gate firing when he was walking
+off with you, and it struck me that possibly the sudden shock and the
+jump into the water when they attacked the boats, and that rap on the
+head with a musket ball, might have affected his nervous system, and
+that he was altogether cured, so he was determined on the first occasion
+to try.”
+
+“And did it, Doctor?” Isobel asked eagerly. “I don’t care, you know, one
+bit whether he is nervous when there is a noise or not, but for his sake
+I should be glad to know that he has got over it; it has made him so
+unhappy.”
+
+“He has got over it, my dear; he went through the fight without feeling
+the least nervous, and distinguished himself very much in the charge, as
+the officer who commanded his troop has just told me.”
+
+“Oh, I am glad--I am thankful, Doctor; no words can say how pleased I
+am; I know that it would have made his whole life unhappy, and I should
+have always had the thought that he remembered those hateful words of
+mine.”
+
+“I am as glad as you are, Isobel, though I fancy it will change our
+plans.”
+
+“How change our plans, Doctor? I did not know that I had any plans.”
+
+“I think you had, child, though you might not acknowledge them even
+to yourself. My plan was that you should somehow convince him that, in
+spite of what you said, and in spite of his leaving you in that boat,
+you were quite content to take him for better or for worse.”
+
+“How could I tell him that?” the girl said, coloring.
+
+“Well, I think you would have had to do so somehow, my dear, but that is
+not the question now. My plan was that when you had succeeded in doing
+this you should marry him and go home with him.”
+
+“But why, Doctor,” she asked, coloring even more hotly than before, “is
+the plan changed?”
+
+“Because, my dear, I don’t think Bathurst will go home with you.”
+
+“Why not, Doctor?” she asked, in surprise.
+
+“Because, my dear, he will want, in the first place, to rehabilitate
+himself.”
+
+“But no one knows, Doctor, about the siege and what happened there,
+except you and me and Mr. Wilson; all the rest have gone.”
+
+“That is true, my dear, but he will want to rehabilitate himself in his
+own eyes; and besides, that former affair which first set you against
+him, might crop up at any time. Other civilians, many of them, have
+volunteered in the service, and no man of courage would like to go away
+as long as things are in their present state. You will see Bathurst will
+stay.”
+
+Isobel was silent.
+
+“I think he will be right,” she said at last gravely; “if he wishes to
+do so, I should not try to dissuade him; it would be very hard to know
+that he is in danger, but no harder for me than for others.”
+
+“That is right, my dear,” the Doctor said affectionately; “I should not
+wish my little girl--and now the Major has gone I feel that you are my
+little girl--to think otherwise. I think,” he went on, smiling, “that
+the first part of that plan we spoke of will not be as difficult as
+I fancied it would be; the sting has gone, and he will get rid of his
+morbid fancies.”
+
+“When shall I be able to see him?”
+
+“Well, if I had any authority over him you would not see him for a week;
+as I have not, I think it likely enough that you will see him tomorrow.”
+
+“I would rather wait if it would do him any harm, Doctor.”
+
+“I don’t think it will do him any harm. Beyond the fact that he will
+have to carry his arm in a sling for the next fortnight, I don’t think
+he will have any trouble with it.”
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII.
+
+
+The next morning Bathurst found Isobel Hannay sitting in a shady court
+that had been converted into a sort of general room for the ladies in
+the fort.
+
+“How are you, Miss Hannay? I am glad to see you down.”
+
+“I might repeat your words, Mr. Bathurst, for you see we have changed
+places. You are the invalid, and not I.”
+
+“There is very little of the invalid about me,” he said. “I am glad to
+see that your face is much better than it was.”
+
+“Yes, it is healing fast. I am a dreadful figure still; and the Doctor
+says that there will be red scars for months, and that probably my face
+will be always marked.”
+
+“The Doctor is a croaker, Miss Hannay; there is no occasion to trust
+him too implicitly. I predict that there will not be any serious scars
+left.”
+
+He took a seat beside her. There were two or three others in the court,
+but these were upon the other side, quite out of hearing.
+
+“I congratulate you, Mr. Bathurst,” she said quietly, “on yesterday. The
+Doctor has, of course, told me all about it. It can make no difference
+to us who knew you, but I am heartily glad for your sake. I can
+understand how great a difference it must make to you.”
+
+“It has made all the difference in the world,” he replied. “No one can
+tell the load it has lifted from my mind. I only wish it had taken place
+earlier.”
+
+“I know what you mean, Mr. Bathurst; the Doctor has told me about that
+too. You may wish that you had remained in the boat, but it was well for
+me that you did not. You would have lost your life without benefiting
+me. I should be now in the well of Cawnpore, or worse, at Bithoor.”
+
+“That may be,” he said gravely, “but it does not alter the fact.”
+
+“I have no reason to know why you consider you should have stopped in
+the boat, Mr. Bathurst,” she went on quietly, but with a slight flush
+on her cheek. “I can perhaps guess by what you afterwards did for me, by
+the risks you ran to save me; but I cannot go by guesses, I think I have
+a right to know.”
+
+“You are making me say what I did not mean to say,” he exclaimed
+passionately, “at least not now; but you do more than guess, you
+know--you know that I love you.”
+
+“And what do you know?” she asked softly.
+
+“I know that you ought not to love me.” he said. “No woman should love a
+coward.”
+
+“I quite agree with you, but then I know that you are not a coward.”
+
+“Not when I jumped over and left you alone? It was the act of a cur.”
+
+“It was an act for which you were not really responsible. Had you been
+able to think, you would not have done so. I do not take the view the
+Doctor does, and I agree with you that a man loving a woman should first
+of all think of her and of her safety. So you thought when you could
+think, but you were no more responsible for your action than a madman
+for a murder committed when in a state of frenzy. It was an impulse
+you could not control. Had you, after the impulse had passed, come down
+here, believing, as you might well have believed, that it was absolutely
+impossible to rescue me from my fate, it would have been different. But
+the moment you came to yourself you deliberately took every risk
+and showed how brave you were when master of yourself. I am speaking
+plainly, perhaps more plainly than I ought to. But I should despise
+myself had I not the courage to speak out now when so much is at stake,
+and after all you have done for me.
+
+“You love me?”
+
+“You know that I love you.”
+
+“And I love you,” the girl said; “more than that, I honor and esteem
+you. I am proud of your love. I am jealous for your honor as for my own,
+and I hold that honor to be spotless. Even now, even with my happiness
+at stake, I could not speak so plainly had I not spoken so cruelly and
+wrongly before. I did not know you then as I know you now, but having
+said what I thought then, I am bound to say what I think now, if only as
+a penance. Did I hesitate to do so, I should be less grateful than that
+poor Indian girl who was ready as she said, to give her life for the
+life you had saved.”
+
+“Had you spoken so bravely but two days since,” Bathurst said, taking
+her hand, “I would have said. ‘I love you too well, Isobel, to link
+your fate to that of a disgraced man.’ but now I have it in my power to
+retrieve myself, to wipe out the unhappy memory of my first failure,
+and still more, to restore the self respect which I have lost during
+the last month. But to do so I must stay here: I must bear part in the
+terrible struggle there will be before this mutiny is put down, India
+conquered, and Cawnpore revenged.”
+
+“I will not try to prevent you,” Isobel said. “I feel it would be wrong
+to do so. I could not honor you as I do, if for my sake you turned away
+now. Even though I knew I should never see you again, I would that you
+had died so, than lived with even the shadow of dishonor on your name.
+I shall suffer, but there are hundreds of other women whose husbands,
+lovers, or sons are in the fray, and I shall not flinch more than they
+do from giving my dearest to the work of avenging our murdered friends
+and winning back India.”
+
+So quietly had they been talking that no thought of how momentous
+their conversation had been had entered the minds of the ladies sitting
+working but a few paces away. One, indeed, had remarked to another, “I
+thought when Dr. Wade was telling us how Mr. Bathurst had rescued that
+unfortunate girl with the disfigured face at Cawnpore, that there was
+a romance in the case, but I don’t see any signs of it. They are goods
+friends, of course, but there is nothing lover-like in their way of
+talking.”
+
+So thought Dr. Wade when he came in and saw them sitting there, and gave
+vent to his feeling in a grunt of dissatisfaction.
+
+“It is like driving two pigs to market,” he muttered; “they won’t go the
+way I want them to, out of pure contrariness.”
+
+“It is all settled, Doctor,” Bathurst said, rising. “Come, shake hands;
+it is to you I owe my happiness chiefly.”
+
+“Isobel, my dear, give me a kiss,” the Doctor exclaimed. “I am glad,
+my dear, I am glad with all my heart. And what have you settled besides
+that?”
+
+“We have settled that I am to go home as soon as I can go down country,
+and he is going up with you and the others to Cawnpore.”
+
+“That is right,” the Doctor said heartily. “I told you that was what
+he would decide upon; it is right that he should do so. No man ought
+to turn his face to the coast till Lucknow is relieved and Delhi is
+captured. I thank God it has all come right at last. I began to be
+afraid that Bathurst’s wrong headedness was going to mar both your
+lives.”
+
+The news had already come down that Havelock had found that it would be
+absolutely impossible with the small force at his command to fight his
+way into Lucknow through the multitude of foes that surrounded it, and
+that he must wait until reinforcements arrived. There was, therefore, no
+urgent hurry, and it was not until ten days later that a second troop
+of volunteer horse, composed of civilians unable to resume their duties,
+and officers whose regiments had mutinied, started for Cawnpore.
+
+Half an hour before they mounted, Isobel Hannay and Ralph Bathurst were
+married by the chaplain in the fort. This was at Bathurst’s earnest
+wish.
+
+“I may not return, Isobel,” he had urged: “it is of no use to blink the
+fact that we have desperate fighting before us, and I should go into
+battle with my mind much more easy in the knowledge that, come what
+might, you were provided for. The Doctor tells me that he considers you
+his adopted daughter, and that he has already drawn up a will leaving
+his savings to you; but I should like your future to come from me, dear,
+even if I am not to share it with you. As you know, I have a fine estate
+at home, and I should like to think of you as its mistress.”
+
+And Isobel of course had given way, though not without protest.
+
+“You don’t know what I may be like yet,” she said, half laughing, half
+in earnest. “I may carry these red blotches to my grave.”
+
+“They are honorable scars, dear, as honorable as any gained in battle. I
+hope, for your sake, that they will get better in time, but it makes
+no difference to me. I know what you were, and how you sacrificed your
+beauty. I suppose if I came back short of an arm or leg you would not
+make that an excuse for throwing me over?”
+
+“You ought to be ashamed of even thinking of such a thing, Ralph.”
+
+“Well, dear, I don’t know that I did think it, but I am only putting a
+parallel case to your own. No, you must consent: it is in all ways best.
+We will be married on the morning I start, so as just to give time for
+our wedding breakfast before I mount.”
+
+“It shall be as you wish,” she said softly. “You know the estate without
+you would be nothing to me, but I should like to bear your name, and
+should you never come back to me, Ralph, to mourn for you all my life
+as my husband. But I believe you will return to me. I think I am getting
+superstitious, and believe in all sorts of things since so many strange
+events have happened. Those pictures on the smoke that came true, Rujub
+sending you messages at Deennugghur, and Rabda making me hear her voice
+and giving me hope in prison. I do not feel so miserable at the thought
+of your going into danger as I should do, if I had not a sort of
+conviction that we shall meet again. People believe in presentiments of
+evil, why should they not believe in presentiments of good? At any rate,
+it is a comfort to me that I do feel so, and I mean to go on believing
+it.”
+
+“Do so, Isobel. Of course there will be danger, but the danger will
+be nothing to that we have passed through together. The Sepoys will
+no doubt fight hard, but already they must have begun to doubt; their
+confidence in victory must be shaken, and they begin to fear retribution
+for their crimes. The fighting will, I think, be less severe as the
+struggle goes on, and at any rate the danger to us, fighting as the
+assailants, is as nothing to that run when we were little groups
+surrounded by a country in arms.
+
+“The news that has come through from Lucknow is that, for some time at
+any rate, the garrison are confident they can hold out, while at
+Delhi we know that our position is becoming stronger every day; the
+reinforcements are beginning to arrive from England, and though the
+work may be slow at first, our army will grow, while their strength will
+diminish, until we sweep them before us. I need not stop until the
+end, only till the peril is over, till Lucknow is relieved, and Delhi
+captured.
+
+“As we agreed, I have already sent in my resignation in the service,
+and shall fight as a volunteer only. If we have to fight our way into
+Lucknow, cavalry will be useless, and I shall apply to be attached to
+one of the infantry regiments; having served before, there will be no
+difficulty about that. I think there are sure to be plenty of vacancies.
+Six months will assuredly see the backbone of the rebellion altogether
+broken. No doubt it will take much longer crushing it out altogether,
+for they will break up into scattered bodies, and it may be a long work
+before these are all hunted down; but when the strength of the rebellion
+is broken, I can leave with honor.”
+
+There were but few preparations to be made for the wedding. Great
+interest was felt in the fort in the event, for Isobel’s rescue from
+Bithoor and Cawnpore, when all others who had fallen into the power of
+the Nana had perished, had been the one bright spot in the gloom; and
+there would have been a general feeling of disappointment had not the
+romance had the usual termination.
+
+Isobel’s presents were numerous and of a most useful character, for they
+took the form of articles of clothing, and her trousseau was a varied
+and extensive one.
+
+The Doctor said to her the evening before the event, “You ought to have
+a certificate from the authorities, Isobel, saying how you came into
+possession of your wardrobe, otherwise when you get back to England you
+will very soon come to be looked upon as a most suspicious character.”
+
+“How do you mean, Doctor?”
+
+“Well, my dear, if the washerwoman to whom you send your assortment
+at the end of the voyage is an honest woman, she will probably give
+information to the police that you must be a receiver of stolen
+property, as your garments are all marked with different names.”
+
+“It will look suspicious, Doctor, but I must run the risk of that till
+I can remark them again. I can do a good deal that way before I sail. It
+is likely we shall be another fortnight at least before we can start
+for Calcutta. I don’t mean to take the old names out, but shall mark my
+initials over them and the word ‘from.’ Then they will always serve as
+mementoes of the kindness of everyone here.”
+
+Early on the morning of the wedding a native presented himself at the
+gate of the fort, and on being allowed to enter with a letter for Miss
+Hannay of which he was the bearer, handed her a parcel, which proved
+to contain a very handsome and valuable set of jewelry, with a slip of
+paper on which were the words, “From Rabda.”
+
+The Doctor was in high spirits at the breakfast to which everybody sat
+down directly after the wedding. In the first place, his greatest wish
+was gratified; and, in the second, he was about to start to take part in
+the work of retribution.
+
+“One would think you were just starting on a pleasure party, Doctor,”
+ Isobel said.
+
+“It is worth all the pleasure parties in the world, my dear. I have
+always been a hunter, and this time it is human ‘tigers’ I am going in
+pursuit of--besides which,” he said, in a quieter tone, “I hope I am
+going to cure as well as kill. I shall only be a soldier when I am not
+wanted as a doctor. A man who really loves his profession, as I do, is
+always glad to exercise it, and I fear I shall have ample opportunities
+that way; besides, dear there is nothing like being cheerful upon an
+occasion of this kind. The longer we laugh, the less time there is for
+tears.”
+
+And so the party did not break up until it was nearly time for the
+little troop to start. Then there was a brief passionate parting, and
+the volunteer horse rode away to Cawnpore. Almost the first person they
+met as they rode into the British lines was Wilson, who gave a shout of
+joy at seeing the Doctor and Bathurst.
+
+“My dear Bathurst!” he exclaimed. “Then you got safely down. Did you
+rescue Miss Hannay?”
+
+“I had that good fortune, Wilson.”
+
+“I am glad. I am glad,” the young fellow said, shaking his hand
+violently, while the tears stood in his eyes. “I know you were right
+in sending me away, but I have regretted it ever since. I know I should
+have been no good, but it seemed such a mean thing for me to go off by
+myself. Well, Doctor, and so you got off too,” he went on, turning from
+Bathurst and wringing the Doctor’s hand; “I never even hoped that you
+escaped. I made sure that it was only we two. I have had an awful time
+of it since we heard the news, on the way up, of the massacre of the
+women. I had great faith in Bathurst, and knew that if anything could be
+done he would do it, but when I saw the place they had been shut up in,
+it did not seem really possible that he could have got anyone out of
+such a hole. And where did you leave Miss Hannay?”
+
+“We have not left her at all,” the Doctor said gravely; “there is no
+longer a Miss Hannay. There, man, don’t look so shocked. She changed her
+name on the morning we came away.”
+
+“What!” Wilson exclaimed. “Is she Mrs. Bathurst? I am glad, Bathurst.
+Shake hands again; I felt sure that if you did rescue her that was what
+would come of it. I was almost certain by her way when I talked to
+her about you one day that she liked you. I was awfully spoony on her
+myself, you know, but I knew it was no use, and I would rather by a lot
+that she married you than anyone else I know. But come along into my
+tent; you know your troop and ours are going to be joined. We have
+lost pretty near half our fellows, either in the fights coming up or by
+sunstroke or fever since we came here. I got hold of some fizz in the
+bazaar yesterday, and I am sure you must be thirsty. This is a splendid
+business; I don’t know that I ever felt so glad of anything in my life,”
+ and he dragged them away to his tent.
+
+Bathurst found, to his disappointment, that intense as was the desire to
+push forward to Lucknow, the general opinion was that the General would
+not venture to risk his little force in an operation that, with the
+means at his disposal, seemed well nigh impossible. Cholera had made
+considerable ravages, and he had but fifteen hundred bayonets at his
+disposal. All that could be done pending the arrival of reinforcements
+was to prepare the way for an advance, and show so bold a front that the
+enemy would be forced to draw a large force from Lucknow to oppose his
+advance.
+
+A bridge of boats was thrown across the Ganges, and the force crossed
+the river and advanced to Onao, eight miles on the road to Lucknow. Here
+the enemy, strongly posted, barred the way; but they were attacked,
+and, after hard fighting, defeated, with a loss of three hundred men and
+fifteen guns.
+
+In this fight the volunteer horse, who had been formed into a single
+troop, did good service. One of their two officers was killed; and as
+the party last up from Allahabad were all full of Bathurst’s rescue
+of Miss Hannay from Cawnpore, and Wilson and the Doctor influenced the
+others, he was chosen to fill the vacancy.
+
+There were two other fierce fights out at Busserutgunge, and then
+Bathurst had the satisfaction of advancing with the column against
+Bithoor. Here again the enemy fought sturdily, but were defeated with
+great slaughter, and the Nana’s palace was destroyed.
+
+When, after the arrival of Outram with reinforcements, the column set
+out for Lucknow, the volunteers did not accompany them, as they would
+have been useless in street fighting, and were, therefore, detailed
+to form part of the little force left at Cawnpore to hold the city and
+check the rebels, parties of whom were swarming round it.
+
+The officer in command of the troop died of cholera a few days after
+Havelock’s column started up, and Bathurst succeeded him. The work was
+very arduous, the men being almost constantly in their saddles,
+and having frequent encounters with the enemy. They were again much
+disappointed at being left behind when Sir Colin Campbell advanced to
+the relief of Havelock and the garrison, but did more than their share
+of fighting in the desperate struggle when the mutineers of the Gwallior
+contingent attacked the force at Cawnpore during the absence of the
+relieving column. Here they were almost annihilated in a desperate
+charge which saved the 64th from being cut to pieces at the most
+critical moment of the fight.
+
+Wilson came out of the struggle with the loss of his left arm, and two
+or three serious wounds. He had been cut off, and surrounded, and was
+falling from his horse when Bathurst cut his way to his rescue, and,
+lifting him into his saddle before him, succeeded after desperate
+fighting in carrying him off, himself receiving several wounds, none of
+which, however, were severe. The action had been noticed, and Bathurst’s
+name was sent in for the Victoria Cross. As the troop had dwindled to a
+dozen sabers, he applied to Sir Colin Campbell, whose column had arrived
+in time to save the force at Cawnpore and to defeat the enemy, to be
+attached to a regiment as a volunteer. The General, however, at once
+offered him a post as an extra aide de camp to himself, as his perfect
+knowledge of the language would render him of great use; and he gladly
+accepted the offer.
+
+With the column returning from Lucknow was the Doctor.
+
+“By the way, Bathurst,” he said on the evening of his return, “I met an
+old acquaintance in Lucknow; you would never guess who it was--Forster.”
+
+“You don’t say so; Doctor.”
+
+“Yes; it seems he was hotly pursued, but managed to shake the sowars
+off. At that time the garrison was not so closely besieged as it
+afterwards was. He knew the country well, and made his way across
+it until within sight of Lucknow. At night he rode right through the
+rebels, swam the river, and gained the Residency. He distinguished
+himself greatly through the siege, but had been desperately wounded the
+day before we marched in. He was in a ward that was handed over to me
+directly I got there, and I at once saw that his case was a hopeless
+one. The poor fellow was heartily glad to see me. Of course he knew
+nothing of what had taken place at Deennugghur after he had left, and
+was very much cut up when he heard the fate of almost all the garrison.
+He listened quietly when I told how you had rescued Isobel and of your
+marriage. He was silent, and then said, ‘I am glad to hear it, Doctor.
+I can’t say how pleased I am she escaped. Bathurst has fairly won her.
+I never dreamt that she cared for him. Well, it seems he wasn’t a
+coward after all. And you say he has resigned and come up as a volunteer
+instead of going home with her? That is plucky, anyhow. Well, I am
+pleased. I should not have been so if I hadn’t been like this, Doctor,
+but now I am out of the running for good, it makes no odds to me either
+way. If ever you see him again, you tell him I said I was glad. I expect
+he will make her a deucedly better husband than I should have done. I
+never liked Bathurst, but I expect it was because he was a better fellow
+than most of us--that was at school, you know--and of course I did not
+take to him at Deennugghur. No one could have taken to a man there who
+could not stand fire. But you say he has got over that, so that is all
+right. Anyhow, I have no doubt he will make her happy. Tell her I am
+glad, Doctor. I thought at one time--but that is no odds now. I am glad
+you are out of it, too.’
+
+“And then he rambled on about shooting Sepoys, and did not say anything
+more coherently until late that night. I was sitting by him; he had been
+unconscious for some time, and he opened his eyes suddenly and said,
+‘Tell them both I am glad,’ and those were the last words he spoke.”
+
+“He was a brave soldier, a fine fellow in many ways,” Bathurst said; “if
+he had been brought up differently he would, with all his gifts, have
+been a grand fellow, but I fancy he never got any home training. Well,
+I am glad he didn’t die as we supposed, without a friend beside him, on
+his way to Lucknow, and that he fell after doing his duty to the women
+and children there.”
+
+Wilson refused to go home after the loss of his arm, and as soon as he
+recovered was appointed to one of the Sikh regiments, and took part in
+the final conquest of Lucknow two months after the fight at Cawnpore.
+A fortnight after the conclusion of that terrible struggle Sir Colin
+Campbell announced to Bathurst that amongst the dispatches that he
+had received from home that morning was a Gazette, in which his name
+appeared among those to whom the Victoria Cross had been granted.
+
+“I congratulate you heartily, Mr. Bathurst,” the old officer said: “I
+have had the pleasure of speaking in the highest terms of the bravery
+you displayed in carrying my message through heavy fire a score of times
+during the late operations.”
+
+Great as the honor of the Victoria Cross always is, to Bathurst it was
+much more than to other men. It was his rehabilitation. He need never
+fear now that his courage would be questioned, and the report that he
+had before left the army because he lacked courage would be forever
+silenced now that he could write V. C. after his name. The pleasure
+of Dr. Wade and Wilson was scarcely less than his own. The latter’s
+regiment had suffered very heavily in the struggle at Lucknow, and he
+came out of it a captain, having escaped without a wound.
+
+A week later Bathurst resigned his appointment. There was still much to
+be done, and months of marching and fighting before the rebellion was
+quite stamped out; but there had now arrived a force ample to overcome
+all opposition, and there was no longer a necessity for the service of
+civilians. As he had already left the service of the Company, he was his
+own master, and therefore started at once for Calcutta..
+
+“I shall not be long before I follow you,” the Doctor said, as they
+spent their last evening together. “I shall wait and see this out, and
+then retire. I should have liked to have gone home with you, but it is
+out of the question. Our hands are full, and likely to be so for some
+time, so I must stop.”
+
+Bathurst stopped for a day at Patna to see Rujub and his daughter. He
+was received as an expected guest, and after spending a few hours with
+them he continued his journey. At Calcutta he found a letter awaiting
+him from Isobel, saying that she had arrived safely in England, and
+should stay with her mother until his arrival, and there he found her.
+
+“I expected you today,” she said, after the first rapturous greeting
+was over. “Six weeks ago I woke in the middle of the night, and heard
+Rabda’s voice distinctly say: ‘He has been with us today: he is safe and
+well; he is on his way to you.’ As I knew how long you would take
+going down from Patna, I went the next day to the office and found what
+steamer you would catch, and when she would arrive. My mother and sister
+both regarded me as a little out of my mind when I said you would be
+back this week. They have not the slightest belief in what I told them
+about Rujub, and insist that it was all a sort of hallucination brought
+on by my sufferings. Perhaps they will believe now.”
+
+“Your face is wonderfully better,” he said presently. “The marks seem
+dying out, and you look almost your old self.”
+
+“Yes,” she said; “I have been to one of the great doctors, and he says
+he thinks the scars will quite disappear in time.”
+
+Isobel Bathurst has never again received any distinct message from
+Rabda, but from time to time she has the consciousness, when sitting
+quietly alone, that the girl is with her in thought. Every year letters
+and presents are exchanged, and to the end of their lives she and her
+husband will feel that their happiness is chiefly due to her and her
+father--Rujub, the Juggler.
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUJUB, THE JUGGLER ***
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