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Gil the Gunner; or, The Youngest Officer in the East, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 14

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_ CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

At the appointed time the men fell in, rested a little, no doubt, but not one had slept, and after a few words respecting the importance of silence, Brace placed himself at their head, whispered to me to come to his side, and the word was given--_March_!

It was a strange, weird tramp along the deserted road, for not a soul was encountered; but as we drew nearer, the lights in the city were many, and from the noise and drumming it was evident that there were festivities in progress, possibly rejoicings among the natives at the fall of the British rule.

But as we got on to lower ground the illuminations disappeared, and Brace pointed out that the part in the direction of our barracks seemed to be all dark.

But we could, of course, make out little at that distance, and as we neared the river, Brace struck off to the right, so as to avoid the houses as much as possible, his intention being, he said, to get round till we were about opposite to our quarters, and then march boldly and silently on.

"The probabilities are," he said, "that at this hour of the night we shall not meet a soul."

About this time he called up the sergeant and questioned him, but there was little more to be communicated. Apparently there had been very little plundering; the party led by Ny Deen having its one important object in view--the capture of the horses, guns, and ammunition; and after cutting down those who resisted, and securing the rest in their quarters, they had busied themselves over their task, and marched out in triumph.

"But I'm expecting, sir, that when we get back we shall find that the mob from the bazaar has been busy, and plundered and burned the whole place; and if so--"

He stopped short.

"Well, speak up, man. What do you mean--the wounded?"

"No, sir," replied the sergeant, as I shuddered at the horrors these words suggested; "I don't think there were any wounded left; they did their work too well. I was thinking of the poor chargers."

"Oh!" I ejaculated, as I thought of my noble-looking Arab and its companion, and I involuntarily quickened my pace.

"Steady, Vincent," whispered the captain; and I checked myself. "Let's hope it is not so." Then, turning to the sergeant--"You feel sure that the officers' horses are not gone?"

"I can't say that, sir. Only that the mutineers did not take them. They wanted to get the gun-horses and the others; that was all they seemed to be thinking about."

"Yes, that would be all," assented Brace.

"The mob may have carried off the poor creatures since, sir; I don't know."

As we approached the outskirts, all was as anticipated, quite still, and after another whisper to the men to keep as silent as possible, we marched boldly in through the narrow lanes, threading our way for some time without hardly seeing a soul, and those whom we encountered only looked at us with curiosity or else fled at once.

Twice over we became confused, losing our way, but our good luck aided us, for we recognised places which we had passed through before, and resumed our march, getting nearer and nearer to our barracks, and now hearing shouting, drumming, with the clash of music, but right away from us; and at last it was left well behind to our right.

From time to time the captain halted and let the men pass by him, so as to keep a sharp look-out, and see whether we were followed.

But that did not seem to enter into the thoughts of any of the natives we had passed. They were apparently thinking solely of their own safety, and at last, trembling with eagerness, we approached the gateway that we had left so short a time before; and a painful sensation of sorrow smote me as I recalled the genial face of the major and his words wishing us success as he saw us off on our pleasant expedition.

"And now dead!--cruelly murdered by treachery," I said to myself; while the painful feeling was succeeded by one of rage, accompanied by a desire to take vengeance on the men who had cut him down.

But I had something else to think of now, for Brace halted the men and took me to examine the gateway, where all was silent and black. There was no armed sentry on duty, no lights in the guard-room, and a chill struck through me, and I searched the ground with my eyes in dread lest I should trip over the remains of some man by whose side I had ridden during many a parade or drill.

Brace stepped forward boldly, and we passed through the gateway into the yard when, suddenly, and as silently as if barefooted, a white figure started up near us, and would have fled had not Brace caught it by the arm.

"Silence!" he said in Hindustani.

"Don't kill me, master," came in a low supplicating whisper.

"Dost!" I exclaimed, for I recognised the voice.

"Yes, master," he cried, turning to me.

"What were you doing here?" said Brace, sternly.

"I came up when all was dark and the budmashes were all gone, master," said the man with trembling accents. "I have been to master's quarters."

"To plunder?" said Brace, sternly.

"Master's servant is honest and never steals," said Dost, quickly. "Master can search and see."

"I think--I'm sure he is honest," I said hastily. "Tell us, Dost. Who is in the barracks now?"

"The dead men, master," said the Hindu solemnly. "There is no one living there. Yes," he added quickly, "I did hear sounds, but I could find nobody. And the mem sahib is gone."

"Where did you hear the sounds?" I asked.

"By the stables, my lord. If the budmashes had not taken away all the horses I should have thought the horses were there still."

"And they are," I whispered to Brace.

"Be cautious," he whispered back. "We must not trust this man. Dost, tell me; the major--where is he?"

The man sighed, and said softly--

"The burra major is dead. I have laid his body inside the mess-room. The mem sahib must have escaped or been carried off."

"You did this, Dost?" I cried, after a pause.

"Yes, sahib. It was dreadful for him to lie there."

"Take us where you have laid him," said Brace, sternly; "but mind, if you attempt to escape, I shall fire."

"Why should thy servant try to escape?" said the man simply. "This way."

"You do not trust him?" I said to Brace.

"Trust?" he replied bitterly. "Who can ever trust a Hindu again?"

We followed Dost across the compound, to where the blank windows of the mess-room loomed out of the darkness, and we saw that they and the door were carefully closed.

"I have misjudged him, Gil," whispered Brace; "he has been here."

As the Hindu began to open the door, we glanced sharply about the place, each holding his double rifle, ready for immediate action against human tigers, as I told myself. But all was silent and deserted, and as I looked toward the major's quarters and thought of the pleasant English lady who had so often made me welcome in the little drawing-room she fitted up so charmingly wherever we stayed, and whose soft carpets, purdahs, and screens came back to my memory in the soft light of the shaded lamps, I shivered, and wondered what had been her fate.

"I could not find the lieutenant, sahib," said Dost, as he threw open the door.

"Be on your guard, Gil," whispered Brace to me in French; "it may be a trap after all. Hush! Look out. I thought so," he cried; and I swung round the muzzle of my rifle, as four figures suddenly came upon us from out of the darkness at our back.

The alarm was momentary, for a familiar voice said, as the point of a sword gritted in the sand at the speaker's feet--

"All right. I was growing uneasy about you, and brought three of the boys in case of accident."

"Thank you, doctor," said Brace. "We are going in here. The major--"

"Hush!" said the doctor, drawing in a hissing breath. "Stand fast, my lads."

"If you hear anything wrong," said Brace to the three men who stood sword in hand, "you know what to do."

There was a low hiss, more than a murmur, and then we were in the darkness of the mess-room.

"I'll shut the door," said Dost, softly.

"Why?" said the doctor, quickly.

"The sahib doctor can trust me," said the man, quietly. "It is dark. I am going to light a candle. I think the barracks are quite empty, but some of the budmashes might be about seeking to rob, and they would see the light."

He closed the door, and the darkness for the moment was intense, while my heart beat with a heavy throb as I wondered whether, after all, there was treachery intended, and Brace's words rang in my ears--"Who can ever trust a Hindu again?"

The silence was awful in the moments which followed the closing of the door. There was a faint rustling sound followed by a sharp click click, which I knew was the cocking of a rifle or pistol; then came a scraping sound as of a sword-edge touching the wall--sounds which told me that my suspicions were shared; but, directly after, they were dispelled, for there was a crackling noise and a faint line of light; a repetition of the scratching, accompanied by a few sparks, and, at the third repetition, there was a flash which lit up the dark face of Dost and his white turban; then the match began to burn, and we could see his fingers look transparent as he sheltered the flame and held it to a piece of candle, which directly after lit up the mess-room, one wreck now of broken glass, shattered chairs, and ragged curtain and cloth.

I saw all that at a glance, but as my eyes wandered about the room, they rested upon a couch at the side, upon which lay something covered completely by a tablecloth, whose whiteness was horribly stained.

I shuddered, and tried to turn my eyes away, but I could not, and involuntarily I followed Brace and the doctor, as Dost went to the couch.

"Better keep away, Gil, lad," said Brace, in a low voice, full of emotion. "You will have enough horrors forced upon you without seeking them out."

I made no answer, but I did not retire, as Brace softly raised the cloth from the face of our commanding officer, and I saw that, though disfigured by a couple of terrible cuts, it was quite placid; and my heart warmed--in my sorrow for my poor friend--toward the Hindu servant who had so reverently treated his remains.

Then a thrill ran through me, for as Brace stood holding the cloth raised, and Dost held the candle for us to see, the doctor uttered an ejaculation, pushed Brace rudely aside, and then laid his rifle on the ground, and began to tear open the light cotton garment the major wore, while his busy hands played, in the dim light, about his breast.

"Here, Dost," he whispered, "put down the light. Tear this cloth into narrow bandages. Vincent, lad, take out my pocket-book from my breast, and open it."

"Great heavens, Danby!" began Brace.

"Thank Heaven, you mean," said the doctor, in his quick, business-like way. "Good job I'm here. Dost, you fool, you shouldn't be in such a hurry. Why, you might have buried him. The man's not dead."

No word was uttered, but there was a quick expiration of the breath, and then a busy silence, only broken by the rustling movements of the doctor, who kept on examining and bandaging.

At last he began to speak.

"Wonderful how nature stops bleeding," he whispered. "He has cuts and stabs enough to have bled any one to death, but there's a spark left yet."

"Hist! what's that?" said Brace, as a sound came from the door.

"Right, sir," said a voice, which I knew to be Sergeant Craig's. "Mr Haynes is getting uneasy."

"Go and tell him," said Brace, who was kneeling and holding one end of a bandage.

I crossed to the door.

"We've found the major," I whispered, "desperately wounded, but alive."

"Oh!" came in one burst from the men.

"Go and tell Mr Haynes."

"Best news I've heard to-day, sir," whispered the sergeant, who turned and went off at the double while I stepped outside, and closed the door to satisfy myself that the light could not be seen.

"No, sir," said one of the men, "we couldn't see a speck of it."

I hurried back to report in a whisper that all was safe, and for the next quarter of an hour I looked on till the doctor had finished his task.

"There," he said, rising, "he's as bad as can be, but I may bring him round if we can get him to a place of safety."

"Dost can help us, perhaps," I whispered.

"Try and manage it with him, Danby," said Brace, "while I go and see if the horses are safe. Dost, I ask your pardon for my unjust suspicions. Forgive me!"

"The captain sahib did not know my heart," was the reply; and before leaving, I caught and pressed the Hindu's hand.

Outside in the black night, where the hot wind was sighing, and the great stars blinking down, we left one man on guard at the mess-room door, and hurried round to the stables, where, to our great delight, we were saluted by a low whinnying from the horses, my two and Brace's being safe and eagerly waiting for their supply of food. Leaving the men to feed them, we hurried to the next stables, where the major's horses should have been, in company with the doctor's, but the place was empty; and on continuing our quest, Barton's and Haynes's were all missing, while the men's troopers were gone, and a glance at the sheds showed that not a gun or limber was left.

"Back to the mess-room," said Brace, after we had come upon several of our dead men, but had seen no trace of either of the women attached to the corps. "Heard anything?" he whispered to the sentry.

"Woman scream, sir."

"No, no."

"Yes, sir; I swear to it. Heard it twice quite plain."

"Jackals on the prowl, man," said Brace.

"Must have been a female jackal, then," I heard the man mutter, as I passed in and found the doctor and my Hindu servant by the couch.

"How is he?" whispered Brace.

"Well, he's alive, and that's all," replied the doctor. "Dost here says that if we have him carried to a house in the town about a quarter of a mile away, he knows people who will nurse him. Will you give orders. There are plenty of light dhoolies."

"Will he be safe?" said Brace, quickly.

"My life upon it, sahib," said Dost. "I can attend him too when the master does not want me. But I can be useful to him still."

"This is no time for wanting servants," said Brace, shortly. "Let it be as he proposes. I will get the men and the dhooly at once."

"Where will the master be when I want to follow him?"

Brace hesitated for a few moments, and seemed to be about to speak out, but he altered his mind, and said slowly:

"I cannot say yet. But we will keep communicating with you where the major is."

"But the master had better take me," said Dost, quickly. "The place will be full of budmashes, and the people all about will be enemies now. How are the sahibs to know where to get food or shelter, or to get news without me? I can go anywhere--you nowhere."

"Not yet," said Brace, meaningly; "but you are right, Dost, you shall go with us, and keep open our communications."

We went out and across to the gate, where Haynes was fretting with anxiety, but a thrill ran through the men as they found there was work on hand. The orders were given, and a corporal and four men were told off to carry the dhooly, which was found at once, and borne to the mess-room. Then the major was carefully lifted in, and with the doctor in charge and Dost as guide, the little party sallied forth with the understanding that they were to return as quickly as possible.

The interval was spent in a search for food; then arms were hunted out, we officers finding that our quarters had not been plundered, and hurriedly changing our hunting garments for service uniform; and somehow as I stepped out again into the dark night, with sword belted on, and pistols ready to place in my saddle holsters, the helpless despairing feeling began to wear off.

By this time the horses had been saddled and bridled, and all were ready for the next move, but the doctor did not return, and while we were waiting a faint shouting arose from below in the city.

We had been well over the barracks and learned the worst, Brace sharing my surprise that so little plundering had been going on; and whilst we were standing once more in the court with the men drawn up, a picket at the gate, and one of the horses laden with provisions and ammunition, Haynes turned to me.

"It's terribly un-English," he said; "but they would have no mercy on us."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"They have declared war on us, and they ought to take the consequences."

"Explain yourself," I said, as I felt as if I were listening to him with one ear, and for the return of our absent men with the other.

"Well," he said, "I feel as if I should like to give the scoundrels a lesson. The magazine is half full of powder, and to-morrow the wretches will be up here plundering and destroying."

"Well, what then?"

"It would be so easy to lay a trap for them. Plant all the powder behind the gates, after carefully barricading them; lay a train; wait till they were all crowded together, and trying to get in, and then fire the train and blow them all to destruction."

"And who would fire the train, Haynes?" said Brace, who, unnoticed by us, had heard every word.

"I feel as if I could enjoy staying behind on purpose," said Haynes.

"Hah! I've better work on hand for you," said Brace, quietly. "It would do no good, and only be destroying a mob of the greatest ruffians in Rajgunge. Hah, there is the challenge at last."

In effect the doctor and the men with the dhooly came back just then.

"Where's Dost--staying with the major?" cried Brace.

"No, sahib, I am here," came from the interior of the dhooly, out of which Dost stepped as the men set it down.

"What does this mean?" said Brace, angrily.

"His ruse to save us," said the doctor. "We got poor Lacey safe into comfortable quarters at the house of two of the women who washed for the men, and they are to be trusted, I think. I can do no more for him, but see to his wounds to-morrow. As soon as I had seen him right, we were coming back, when, as luck had it, we got into a narrow lane, and half-way along it, heard a noisy party coming shouting along from some festivity. Retreat was impossible, and I gave the orders to the men to draw and cut our way through, but Dost here stopped us by proposing to get in the dhooly."

"Why?" said Brace, angrily.

"I'll tell you. It was a last resource; and though the men grumbled, they lifted the dhooly, and I marched by the side. The next minute we were stopped."

"Well?"

"Hang him!" cried the doctor; "he began to curse them in Hindustani for stopping his gharry, ordered them to let his servants go by, and the idiots took it that a complete change had come over the state of affairs; that Dost must have turned rajah, and was using the English as his slaves. So they all shouted with delight, let us pass, and here we are, thanks to Rajah Dost."

"Then, now for our start," said Brace, "unless it would be wiser to stay here till morning, Dost must go out and try and obtain news of the women."

"No, no, sahib," cried the Hindu, excitedly. "By daylight all the budmashes of the city will be up here to plunder and burn."

"Do you hear, Haynes?" said Brace, bitterly. "They may bring the punishment upon themselves."

"I have thought of the mem sahib, master," continued Dost, "and one of the women will try and learn news for us. She will find it better than I could."

"You are right," said Brace; and giving orders for the horses to be led in the rear, he placed himself at the head of our little column, gave the word march, and we filed out of the gate, Dost leading through the silent lanes of the city, and then round below its walls to the bridge of boats, which was passed without our having encountered a soul.

In our helpless state it was felt that we could do no better than to go by Dost's advice, for he knew the country round, and suggested that we should go on as rapidly as possible, so as to reach one of the patches of forest which clothed the slopes of the valley side opposite the city before daybreak.

"And when we are there?" asked Brace.

"We shall be within reach of the major sahib, and I can take the doctor sahib over to him when it is night again."

"Very well," said Brace, thoughtfully.

Then, as if remembering the great aim he had in view--

"Did the scoundrels go up the valley toward the rajah's?"

"No, sahib; they brought the guns over the bridge, and some say they have gone to Ramul."

"That is only a few miles away," said Brace, quickly, "and beyond the hills. Forward, my lads. No speaking in the ranks."

We tramped on silently for a couple of hours with the night growing darker as we went onward, the men literally reeling at times from weariness and exhaustion after the terrible day.

All at once, one man fell out, and dropped upon the road side.

"Halt!" cried Brace, in a low voice.

"No, no, captain; keep on," said the man. "I'm dead beat. Never mind me."

"We have no dhooly, my lad, to carry you, so we must wait till you can walk, for we must hold together now to the last. Who is it?"

"Sergeant Craig, sir," said one of the men; and Brace hurried to his side.

"Why, Craig, my poor fellow, this will not do."

As he spoke, the man who had thrown himself on the ground struggled to his knees.

"Some one give me a drink of water," he cried hoarsely; and a canteen having been handed to him, he drank deeply, and then tried to rise, but failed.

"You'll have to go on, captain," he said hoarsely. "I've got a bit of a hurt. I did not think it was so much as it is. Makes me a bit faint. If some one took my arm perhaps I could struggle on."

"We are close to the jungle, sahib," whispered Dost.

"Two of you support the sergeant," cried the captain; and a couple of men being detailed for the duty, the sergeant struggled on again for about a couple of hundred yards, the last hundred being in the deep shadows of the trees; and none too soon, for a few bird notes were heard announcing the coming day. Ten minutes later sentries were posted, the horses picketed, and the men were lying down to drop asleep directly, while the doctor busily examined the sergeant's wound.

"A big and ugly one," he said, "but nothing to mind. Made you faint, of course. There, it isn't your sword arm."

"'Tisn't your sword arm" rung in my ears again and again, mingled with the whistling and singing of birds; and to me the bird song had something to do with the dressing of the wound; and then all was blank, and I was plunged in a deep sleep which after some time grew disturbed, and I seemed to be back at the college, drilling, and studying under General Crucie. Then I was getting into difficulties with my fellow cadets and being sent to Coventry, as the most ill-humoured fellow they knew; and then I was awake, gazing up at the trees whose boughs shaded us from the sun, bathed in perspiration, and smelling tobacco smoke.

---------------

Note 1. Dhoolies are light ambulances.

Note 2. Purdahs, curtains or hangings. _

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