# Littell's Living Age/Volume 126/Issue 1631/The Dilemma - Part VIII

From Blackwood's Magazine.
THE DILEMMA.
CHAPTER XX.
For Next day was a busy one. From before dawn a gang of coolies, working under orders of the commissioner's jemadar, were engaged in filling the bags brought from the adjacent treasury, with earth obtained from a shallow trench dug in the lawn, while water-carts were employed to loosen the hard-baked soil; another party were cutting down the shrubs and bushes in the garden, and an army of tailors from the bazaar were squatting on the veranda floor, sewing bags to supplement the supply already available. Soon the space between the veranda pillars began to be blocked up with the first courses of a strong barrier designed to be seven feet high, loop-holed, and bullet-proof. "You see, my friend," said Yorke, in Hindustani, to the native officer whom he had brought with him, nominally to superintend the operation — "if the roughs in the city rise, the court-house would be a difficult position to hold against a mob, even with my gallant sepoys. So we will retire with the treasure into this post until the regiments from cantonments march to our help." The old soobahdar raised his hand to his cap, and observed, gravely, that the European gentlemen were famous for their skill in military science; and Yorke did not care to pursue the conversation.
While they were thus engaged Falkland and Sparrow rode up, with half-a-dozen mounted orderlies behind them, returning from a ride through the city.
"We have been upholding British rule, you see, as long as it lasts," said Falkland, dismounting; "but the roughs are beginning to show their teeth, are they not, Sparrow? and, what is worse, there were some sepoys in the bazaar, out of uniform, whose manner was most insolent. However, I think we read them a lesson this once, if it was the last time — didn't we. Sparrow?" he added, smiling; and indeed, from the expression on that gentleman's countenance, it seemed as if the morning ride had certainly been exciting.
Yorke longed to ask some question about Olivia, when just then she appeared in the veranda, and invited them to come inside and take some tea. The room into which they followed her, now cut off from the outside air, was hot and stuffy, and filled with the dust thrown up by the work going on outside; the punkah-puller, dispossessed of his usual post in the veranda, was squatting in the room; the servants were moving the furniture, and, among the general disorder, Olivia, dressed in a light morning robe, seemed alone to retain the calm and orderly appearance of other days. Yorke noticed the expression of anxiety that overcame Falkland's face as he looked at his wife; but she seemed determined to express no fear, and, as they drank their tea, every one avoided the subject which was uppermost in their thoughts. As for Yorke, he felt quite angry with himself as he returned to his work, at finding how small a place was now occupied in his mind by the luxury of grief.
The commissioner made a show of doing business in the court-house in the afternoon — driving over as usual for form's sake in his carriage, although the distance was but a few yards. "I hear," said he, taking Yorke aside, before going into court, and after he had spoken a few words of exhortation to the native officers and the guard, "and the information seems reliable, that the regiment left behind in cantonments last night, the 80th, will certainly rise, although the time is not fixed: they are in communication with your regiment and the other one which has marched away. My police in the city are utterly rotten and ready to join. The nawab, who is behaving admirably, notwithstanding strong pressure put on him from the other side, may be able to keep the city quiet with his people; but I doubt it. I have about twenty men I can depend on altogether. But on the other hand, a note has just been brought by a runner, from across the river, to say that they are keeping things square over there, and that a Sikh regiment is under orders for this; it maybe ​here in a week. Meantime I hope we shall be able to hold the residency. Everything depends on whether the sepoys attack us or march off for Delhi."
Another weary day was passed by Yorke, in the court-house, marked only by heat and suspense, and which seemed as if it would never come to an end. Towards evening a residency servant came over with refreshments and ice sent by Olivia, and brought a note in pencil from Falkland. "The rising is fixed for tonight. I have this from two quarters. Be on your guard. Your men will certainly join. Do nothing to precipitate it; but whenever your men declare themselves, and you can do no good by stopping, make your way over here as fast as you can."
So then the supreme moment was come at last; was it to be his fate to be shot down unresisting, as so many others had been already? or might he have the bitter happiness of at least making a fight for it, and dying in defence of his idol, like a gallant soldier? "What a fool I was," he thought, "never to have bought a revolver while I had the chance!"
Thus musing, and in a state of highly-wrought expectancy, the young man sat in the waiting-room of the court-house, sipping his iced water to keep down the choking sensation in his throat, and making believe to eat the dinner which his servant had placed before him. Then, as it grew dark, he put on his sword, and mustered the men for evening roll-call, inspected the guard, and went the round of the sentries. There was nothing in the manner of the sepoys to indicate that any movement was intended; but he noticed that, on going off duty, they did not strip to their waist-cloths, as would have been usual, but dressed themselves in their light tunics, and that they wore turbans instead of their ordinary cotton skull-caps. This looked bad; but it seemed useless to say anything.
By-and-by Yorke lay down on his bed before the tent — this time, however, fully dressed — and as he looked around him, the unlovely baked-up landscape, lighted up by the young moon, seemed to have new charms. Was he looking on it for the last time?
With his head on the pillow, he could watch the men, and he observed that, although quite quiet, none of them lay down to sleep; nor did they appear to be smoking, but sat talking in little groups in a low tone.
But nature will assert itself, even when a man is expecting death; and while thus lying, and, as he thought, on the alert, Yorke fell into a doze, from which he was suddenly awoke by the sound of a cannon.
Was it the morning gun in cantonments, four miles off?
It was the cantonment gun, but not the morning gun; it was the gun at midnight — the signal for the outbreak.
Yorke started to his feet.
The sepoys, too, sprang to seize the muskets piled before their tents, and began to fall in. Yorke advanced towards them, for it was light enough to see what had happened, calling out in Hindustani, "What are you doing, sepoys? Are you mad, to behave like this?"
There was a stir among them, and several muskets were pointed at him; but while the old soobahdar stood irresolute, others ran forward and surrounded him. At first he thought they meant to kill him, but their movement was really to protect him from the rest.
"There will be no harm done you," said they; "but it is of no use to resist." And hardly understanding how it came about, Yorke found himself half led, half hustled, into the residency park, when the men suddenly left him standing alone, and returned to their fellows.
So then the crisis was over; and he had done his duty and yet got off with his life — thus far faring better than many a comrade in the like case.
Just then he was startled by a man coming up to him out of the darkness, who turned out to be one of the residency servants, who had been watching the affair, and told him he would find the commissioner at the house.
Falkland was standing on the steps of the portico, with Sparrow, Maxwell, the jemadar, and some half-dozen servants armed with muskets.
"So," said Falkland, grasping his hand warmly, as Yorke explained briefly what had happened, "my information has turned out true. The scoundrels have behaved well so far, in letting you off without injury, and it looks as if they meant to go away quietly."
"What is the next thing to be done?" asked Yorke.
"Nothing but to wait upon events. If the sepoys march upon the city and us, we have only too sell ourselves as dearly as possible; there are four of us behind a breastwork, and I think I can depend on these good fellows" — pointing to the servants who stood in the portico; ​"but if they go off, as I expect they will, we may yet be able to keep order in the city. The fugitives from cantonments will be here shortly, if they have succeeded in getting away. But do you go inside for a moment; you will find some one there very rejoiced to see you."
In the dining-room, dimly lighted by a single lamp, Yorke found Mrs. Falkland standing alone. "Oh, my friend!" she exclaimed, advancing and holding out both hands to greet him; "so you are safe. We have passed a dreadful time here, knowing the danger you were in, and so close to us all the time; but my husband said nothing could be done to help you, but that you must be left to face it alone. Oh! if only the others can be saved in the same way!" There was a smile on her face, pale and anxious though it looked; and to Yorke, returning to join the others outside, it seemed, as he felt that her greeting was warmer than would have been earned by a lifetime of ordinary neighbourhood, that even the mutiny was not without its compensations.
Everything was still and quiet within the park.
Falkland and Yorke went out to reconnoitre.
Advancing across the lawn, and looking over the park wall towards the court-house, they could hear men's voices in the still night.
"It is your men looting the treasury," said Falkland; "they evidently mean to go off with the money. So far good."
And indeed, in a few minutes the detachment marched past them, along the road outside the wall, so close that they could distinguish the old native officer marching at the head of the column. In the middle was a cart, laden no doubt with the plunder. They were evidently marching to join the mutineers in cantonments.
"If they take the road," whispered the colonel, "they will meet the fugitives from cantonments, and not let them off so cheaply as they did you. I have got some of the nawab's horsemen patrolling the road, but they are not to be depended on. Ride after them, Yorke; Kathleen is ready saddled in the stable hard by. See which way they go. If they go by the road you can head them and warn all the fugitives you meet to turn aside till they are past. But probably the rogues will take a short cut across the plain to the native lines."
Yorke did as he was bid, and rode after the sepoys, keeping a little way behind them, and off the hard road, so that they might not hear the horse's steps. In a short time he came back to the residency, whither Falkland had now returned, announcing that the men had turned off the road as he expected, and made straight for the native part of the cantonments. So far well; the fugitives coming up the road would not be molested.
Presently the night was lighted up by a bright glare, increasing every minute. The bungalows in cantonments and the deserted barracks were being fired. Soon it became almost as light as day, although the fires were four miles off, and from the roof of the house the blaze could be seen high above the trees, as one after another the great thatched buildings shot into flames.
Still everything remained quiet about the residency. One or two of the small party patrolled the building; the armed attendants sat on the portico steps; Olivia on the roof watched, awestruck, the conflagration. Then the stillness of the night was broken by the sound of wheels, and a carriage driven at full gallop entered through the gates, and came up the avenue to the outside of the portico, ingress underneath being prevented by the sand-bag barrier.
It was the brigadier's carriage; the old gentleman was helped out by Mrs. Polwheedle, and came limping up the steps. Sundry boxes also were handed up.
"Oh, Colonel Falkland!" gasped the lady, "the life we have been leading since the European troops went away. I don't think I could have stood another day of it; and the servants so impudent too. I'll pay them out, the rascals, if ever I get a chance. I thought we never should have escaped; and when the gun fired, the brigadier wanted to mount his horse and go down to the native lines, but I would not hear of it. It was his duty, he said, to go and see what he could do to stop the outbreak. He was on the sick list, and must obey my orders, I said. Duty, indeed! to go and get shot by those infernal blackguards, and with the carriage all ready too. So here we are. We were attacked on the road by a couple of horsemen; but I held out a pistol at them, and they sheered off, just as they were coming down on us."
"It is just as well you did not fire," said Falkland, "for I suspect they were ​some orderlies of mine sent out to patrol the road, and warn you if there was danger ahead."
Soon other fugitives arrived in haste and flurry; Captain Buxey in his buggy, Major and Mrs. Peart and their daughter in a carriage, the bazaar-sergeant's East-Indian wife with a couple of children, a Mustaphabad shopkeeper, and later on several officers of the 80th on horseback. There had been no regular attack on the European residents; on the signal-gun being fired, the sepoys of the 80th (the regiment left at Mustaphabad) had turned out and formed on parade, a few of them only leaving the ranks and opening a desultory fusilade towards their front into the darkness. The officers of the regiment, whose horses were ready saddled, had hastened down to the lines from their respective bungalows; but being received with threats and this dropping fire, had turned and ridden slowly off to the residency, whither the other residents had already, at the sound of the firing, made their way.
All the Europeans known to be at the station were now accounted for, except the colonel of the 80th and the bazaar-sergeant. Some of the officers thought they had seen the former in the darkness making for the parade, but had lost sight of him. The bazaar-sergeant, as his wife related, had sent her and the children off in his pony-carriage, and said he would go down and try to keep things straight in the bazaar.
CHAPTER XXI.
The night wore on, the glare from the burning cantonments growing ever brighter, till the rays of coming dawn mingled with it. The ladies sat or stood in the drawing-room, or went on the roof to watch the conflagration, finding even at such a time a sort of pleasure in discussing the particulars of their flight, and comparing notes on the property they had brought away; while of the men, some, organized in a little company, patrolled the park, and some rode down the road towards cantonments to see if they could get any tidings of the two missing fugitives.
At last the day arrived to throw its light on the strange-looking group which had escaped the shipwreck of the night — the pallid, dishevelled ladies, the bundles of clothing littering the well-ordered room; outside an equal contrast between the peaceful aspect of the grounds and the condition of the house itself, with the verandas blocked up with sand-bags, and covered with dust and earth, the hasty trenches dug round it, and the tools scattered about, left by the workmen overnight on the scene of their unfinished task.
Soon as the daylight became stronger a strange thing was discerned — a party of sepoys mounting guard over the tents still left standing by the court-house; and to Yorke advancing to discover what this meant, a corporal came down the road to salute and explain matters. There had been a split in the camp, it appeared, and this little party of seventeen men in all had parted with their comrades, and come back to be true to their salt. The detachment, in their hurry to be off, had left their tents standing, and Yorke's, with all his little property, was untouched, and his horse was still standing picketed under a tree. Yet the men, as York went up to greet and praise them, did not seem very proud of their behaviour, and their manner was as if they rather looked to be suspected. A few spirited words from Falkland, however, who had come down on hearing the news, seemed to put them more at their ease. He told Yorke to move them up to the residency. "Let us show perfect confidence in them," he said, "for they deserve it."
"Good gracious! you are surely not going to let those villains come here!" cried Mrs. Polwheedle, as from the portico steps she saw the little party marching up with Yorke at their head. "Stuff and nonsense about loyalty. Loyalty, indeed! Don't talk to me about loyalty," she continued, as Colonel Falkland explained the circumstances; "it's a mere trap for springing upon us and murdering us when we are not expecting it. I am as sure of it as that my name is Martha Polwheedle. The brigadier mustn't allow it. Where is Polwheedle?" And while the lady bustled away in search of her husband, who was trying to recover his dazed senses by pouring water on his head in an adjacent room, Falkland established the sepoys as main guard in the portico, placing Major Peart in command of it, and detaching a couple of sentries to the court-house.
Meanwhile the business of the day was ushered in by the servants bringing tea for the party, just as if nothing had happened, and Falkland set to work to organize matters. While some of the officers were attached to the guard, a part of them rode with him, attended by the half-dozen of the nawab's horsemen whom he ​still retained about him, through the city, which so far remained quiet; and Falkland had notices posted up inviting all able-bodied men to come forward and enroll themselves in a levy he meant to raise forthwith, and they paid a visit to the nawab at his palace. "A curious state of things we have arrived at," he said on his return to Yorke, who had been left in charge of the working parties; "to be dependent for our lives on the man whom we have dethroned, and who has most reason to hate us. The nawab has only to hold up his hand, and all the scum of the city would rise in an instant, and there would be a speedy end of the business as far as we are concerned. It must be a strong temptation to the poor little man to take his revenge, but I think he believes in our eventual success; at any rate his minister does, and is prepared to be stanch. But there is a strong opposition party in the palace headed by his brother, who is in active communication with the mutineers; so we cannot answer for the result of an hour. However, every hour gained is something. It is well I sent the detachment of his troops away except these half-dozen; they would certainly have fraternized with the mutineers if they had stopped at the residency."
While the rest of the party were thus engaged, Egan and M'Intyre of the 80th rode down to cantonments to see how things looked there, returning in a couple of hours with their report. Every house in the place was in ruins, nothing remaining but the charred walls, while the gardens were strewn with papers and rubbish not worth carrying off. There was not a sepoy to be seen, but pillagers were wandering about in every direction, camp-followers from the bazaar or people from the surrounding villages, and the place where they had all lived in more complete security than could be found in any other part of the world was now the scene of utter anarchy. Riding round to the bazaar at the back of the station, they found things there were just as bad, the place full of people — armed, some apparently for self-protection, others wandering about in search of plunder. As soon as they were perceived they were received with howls and execrations; and in attempting to push their way towards the police station they were fired upon down the street, the shots coming apparently from that building, and they were forced to retire. Returning back by way of the deserted native lines, they came upon the body of the colonel of the 80th, lying stiff and stark on the parade, just as he must have fallen the night before, his glazed eyes staring upwards at the blazing sun. No help could be got for removing the corpse, and again the plunderers, seeing the young men halted, began to collect in a threatening way, and the latter were fain to ride away, leaving it there to be devoured by the village dogs and jackals.
Within the house the ladies, unable to realize the situation, or to settle down to it, spent the long day in disjointed talk, the most active lively part being taken by Mrs. Polwheedle, whose indignation sustained her while others were anxious and depressed, and who recounted more than once to the listeners her experiences of the last few days. "Brigadier," I said to Polwheedle, "as sure as my name is Martha Polwheedle, these villains will rise suddenly and murder us all, unless you are beforehand with them; retire with the Europeans and take up a position. That is the thing to do as a brigadier and a military man; retire, and take up a position. But the brigadier wouldn't do anything, and my words have come true, sure enough."
"You don't understand these things, my dear," said the gentleman referred to, who lay on a couch with a basin of water beside him, in which he was dipping a handkerchief and applying it to his forehead — "you don't understand these things, my dear. It was not a purely military question; there were other considerations besides. I am sure I did everything for the best," added the poor gentleman, dabbing the wet cloth with energy on his temples.
"Fiddlestick for your considerations!" replied the lady; "much consideration the villains showed us. I know if I hadn't insisted upon having the carriage kept ready, for all you said about showing confidence and not making preparations, we should have been murdered in our beds; and if I hadn't seen to having a few things packed up and put into it beforehand, you wouldn't have a clean shirt to your back, any more than Major Peart there, who has only got what he stands in. However, here comes tiffin; it's well the commissioner's servants have not run away as well as all the rest." And indeed an array of attendants now entered to make preparations for the mid-day meal, pretty much as if nothing had happened save that their attire wanted the usual accompaniments of ​waistbands and turbans, and was otherwise somewhat slovenly. But the commissioner was absent in the city; and Olivia, as she invited her guests to seat themselves at table, was too distraught with anxiety to notice the omission.
Towards evening, when Falkland returned home from a second excursion with his party, hot and dusty, he was able to report that things still looked quiet. The nawab's guards were doing their duty; some of the runaway police had returned to their posts; and the fresh levy he had raised amounted to about two hundred men, many of them the biggest scoundrels in the place, but there were not arms for more than a few of them at present to do any mischief with, and by the promise of high pay they might be kept out of mischief for a time. The worst thing was that there was no news of relief coming, or indeed news of any kind from any quarter. It looked as if the whole country was up, for messengers must certainly have been despatched from the settled districts.
The gentlemen partook of a scrambling meal, and then the watch was set for the night. The ladies were accommodated in Olivia's rooms; the gentlemen not on duty slept on the gravel paths outside the portico, for the heat inside the house was stifling, the sandbag wall round the veranda — now almost completed — stopping all ingress of air. Yorke's turn of watch was from eight to midnight; when relieved he lay down on a vacant cot and was soon fast asleep, tired out with the excitement and want of rest of the last forty-eight hours.
It was just dawn when he was awakened by the tramp of horses and sound of voices, and he jumped up, thinking that an attack was being made, but soon recognized his friend Spragge, who was sitting on his pony close to his bed, with other officers of the 76th, recounting their escape to their friends on watch. The regiment had reached Johtuck, thirty miles from Mustaphabad, by a forced march, on the morning after they started; and the next day was passed quietly in camp outside the town. The following night — the same in which the outbreak occurred at the latter place — they were suddenly aroused, as they lay on their beds outside their tents, by the crack of musketry and the whizzing of bullets. Some sepoys, clustered in little groups by their own tents, were deliberately firing at their officers from a distance of about thirty yards. The latter at once made for their horses, which were standing ready saddled in the rear. "Some of the grooms had bolted," said Jerry; "and small blame to them, for they were getting what was meant for us; but my fellow held on to my tat, which was plunging and backing from the noise, like a man, which, considering the many lickings the poor beggar had had, was very creditable to him. I gave him ten rupees as soon as I could get on the pony's back, and told him to fish for himself as best he could, and then I began to make tracks after the others; and I think we should all have begun to skedaddle, when Braddon calls out, 'Steady, boys — there's no hurry; let us retire slowly to the right flank, not too close together, but keeping each other in view;' and so we were riding off at a foot-pace, when little Raugh calls out, 'My pony's shot!' 'Catch hold of my stirrup, Johnny,' says Braddon, turning round, 'and then I'll give you a lift as soon as we are out of this.' 'Holloa!' says Braddon, presently, 'here's the major in difficulties;' and sure enough there was old Bumble's horse turning round and round, frightened at the bullets, I suppose; and the groom had bolted, and the poor old major was trying in vain to get his foot into the stirrup: and in about half a minute the horse had got loose and was galloping off into space. 'We mustn't desert our commanding officer,' says Braddon to me. 'Look here, Jerry; just bear a hand, and I'll give the poor old chap a lift in my dog-cart.' So he jumps off his horse as cool as a cucumber, tells Johnny to mount it and be off, and puts his mare, which was standing picketed there with her harness on, into the dog-cart. I had to help a bit, you know, for the mare was precious fidgety — as well she might be — for the bullets were coming in pretty thick, I can tell you. Why those brutes of sepoys didn't come up and finish us off, I am sure I can't tell; but no, the cowardly beggars stood by their own tents, potting away, missing us over and over again at thirty yards. Perhaps they didn't want to hit us after all, but only to frighten us — at any rate, we all got off scot-free. But will you believe it, the poor old major could hardly get into the dog-cart when it was ready; there was Braddon at the reins, talking to the mare as she jumped about, and saying, 'Now then, major — damn it, major, do please make a spring, — there is really no time to be lost;' and there was the old major, bobbing up and down, and always ​jumping short. It was the richest thing you ever saw; I should have been ready to die with laughing if I hadn't been in such a precious funk. At last I gave the major a hoist, and he just managed to get into the back seat of the cart — enough to lift the mare off her feet almost — Braddon jumped up in front, and I mounted my pony again, and away we all came, and not a soul of us touched. We should have been here yesterday, but early in the morning we saw some horsemen in the distance who looked very like irregular cavalry, so we took shelter for the day in a village. The people were civil enough — perhaps because we were a good-sized party, and well armed; and we got flour and milk, and food for our horses. Braddon wouldn't let a single villager leave the place during the day lest they should convey intelligence of our being there, and at night we came away.
"Braddon gave all the orders, for the major was regularly scared, and poor old Passey was quite knocked up with the heat and the marching. Twice the blessed dog-cart got upset in the dark, going across the country, and once we came to a watercourse, and had to go several miles out of our way to find a place to cross. Such a scene as the country was, too; the villagers up everywhere, and apparently having out all the quarrels of the last hundred years. Fires and firing in every direction. At last, steering by the stars, we came in upon the trunk road, and then it was all plain sailing, and we could push on. We passed through the cantonments, which were silent and deserted — it seemed so strange to be riding in this way past our own houses, and I should have liked to look in at our shop and see that the thieves had left a clean shirt or two, but Braddon would not allow of any loitering, and the moonlight showed plainly enough that all the bungalows had been fired. So here we are, Arty, my boy, safe and sound the whole of us; I have got just ten dibs in my pocket, and not a rag to my name but what I am standing in. I say, by Jove, what fools we were not to invest in revolvers while we had the chance! I wonder if it's possible to get anything to drink."
The coming of the fugitives caused quite a revival of good spirits. The ladies came out with greetings at their escape, and busied themselves with serving out tea and food to the wearied travellers, and Yorke and the others who still possessed wardrobes supplied them with a change of raiment, while the commissioner's washermen were put in requisition to rehabilitate their own; and leaving the new arrivals to rest themselves, a part of the others set out to patrol the city. But there was a revulsion of feeling, when later in the morning two officers of the 82d, the third of the three regiments which had garrisoned Mustaphabad, and which had been detached to Meharunpoor, rode up, faint and weary, to the residency. Their story was nearly the same as that of the officers of the 76th. Their men had risen almost at the same time, but the officers had not been so fortunate. Two at least were seen to fall before they could mount their horses; the others, riding away into the night, got separated, and never came together again. These two only found their way to the rendezvous; the remainder, although looked for all day anxiously, were never again seen by their fellow-countrymen; whether shot by their own sepoys, or murdered afterwards by village marauders, their bodies lay somewhere festering in the sun, among the numerous victims of the times whose precise fate was never ascertained, denied even the rude and speedy funeral rites of death on the battle-field.
CHAPTER XXII.
Still no news of succour or from distant stations; and the preparations for defence were pushed forward earnestly under the influence of a growing belief that they would be needed. And, in the afternoon, came tidings of a disturbance in the city. The nawab's brother had raised the flag of rebellion, all the so-called troops in the nawab's pay had joined, the minister had been assassinated, and the nawab was a prisoner in his own palace. Falkland rode out again with some dozen of the officers, but nothing could be done. The police had disappeared or fraternized with the rebellion, and as they rode into the main street, the party was greeted with a straggling fire from the end and the houses on both sides, due apparently in part to the new levy, which had gone over with its arms. "Not a single loyal man among them," said Falkland, bitterly, as he gave the order to retire, himself slowly bringing up the rear; "not one honest man except the nawab himself; and it would be hardly wonderful if the poor little man were to go with the tide too, and purchase his liberty by proclaiming himself ​independent. He can hardly be very sorry to see the English down on their luck; their friendship for him has not conduced much to his prosperity."
"I believe the nawab is at the bottom of this himself," said Sparrow to the officer next to him, as he pushed along at speed out of the town, at the head of the little cavalcade, "for all his pretences about coercion. I do believe he means to assert his independence again, and to take advantage of the mutiny to try and get back his country again. These native princes are capable of any villany."
They got back safely to the residency, but it seemed to the members of the baffled party as if, notwithstanding the dangers so many of them had gone through already, they had not realized till now the full crisis of the situation. So long as the city was open, there was at least the semblance of British power remaining; but now Falkland's authority was limited to his own house and grounds, and as if to mark the current of native opinion, several of his numerous servants were now missing. Almost the last message sent to him by the murdered minister was to inform him that the three regiments of mutineers had halted on their way to Delhi, and were in communication with the nawab's brother, who was urging them to return, and stamp out the last remnant of English government left in this part of the country; if they should take this course, instead of marching on to join the other mutineers, they might be expected by morning, and only a few hours remained for final preparation.
"Is there not still time to escape?" asked Brigadier Polwheedle, lying on a sofa in one of the side rooms, as Falkland explained to him the state of things. "The road is yet open to the eastward; could we not still make our way to the hills, the ladies and myself in carriages, and the rest on horseback, before the sepoys return." We shall only be murdered if we stop; what can a handful of men like us do against three or four thousand? Besides, resistance will only infuriate the sepoys against us."
"I do not see why we should not keep off fifty thousand, for the matter of that," replied the other, "so long as food and ammunition hold out. The place is perfectly musket-proof; the rebels have got no guns, and they will never dare to come at us across the open. We are good for a week at least, and by that time there ought to be relief."
"You must go without me, brigadier, if you do go," said Mrs. Polwheedle, who had entered the room through the open door while this conversation was going on; "for nothing on earth shall induce me to trust myself a single yard out of the place, and among these treacherous natives, now we are here." And Brigadier Polwheedle did not pursue his proposition for a retreat. But after the commissioner had left the room to give some orders he said, "I think, my dear, I had better go on the sick list, and let Falkland take the command regularly."
"Give up the command!" cried the lady, as she stood beside the couch on which he was reclining; "why should you be such a fool as to do that? Why, it's the very thing you have always been declaring you wanted to have, a command on service. Why, if you go on the sick list, you will be of no more account than that missionary fellow, and me not much more neither. No, brigadier, don't you talk of such nonsense, for I won't hear of such a thing."
"Well, but, my dear, you see I can't get about, or be of much use ——"
"And who wants you to be of much use?" interrupted the lady; "you don't want to walk about here — and for the matter of that, there isn't any place to walk to, unless it's into the drawing-room. You can give your orders just as well lying here as if you had nothing at all the matter with your leg."
"But I don't feel fit to give any orders; what with the heat, and all the excitement and responsibility, my head feels quite giddy and confused; and then my eyes, too, are so inflamed," — and as he said this, the poor old gentleman again dipped a cloth into the basin of water beside the sofa, and applied it to his forehead.
"Never mind, old man," said his wife kindly, stooping down and patting him on the shoulder; "you will be better in a day or two, I daresay. You just lie quietly here and agree to what Falkland proposes, and he will look after everything. You can give advice, too, you know, if you like; but don't you give up commanding, whatever you do. Why, the government will make ever so much of you when the reinforcements arrive."
Meanwhile Falkland was assembling the little garrison, for such it might now be styled, outside the building. To the officers he explained the circumstances of the case; that the return of the three sepoy regiments was now imminent, and that the place must be defended till relief ​arrived, which might be expected in about a week, for which time there was sufficient store of ammunition and food. Then turning to the small detachment of faithful sepoys, he gave the same explanation in Hindustani, and praising them for their fidelity and stanchness under the great temptation they had undergone, he now gave them — under the brigadier's authority, he said — permission to withdraw before the blockade should begin. Any man who liked to go was free to return to his home, and should take a certificate of his good conduct and promise of promotion, to be produced hereafter when the country was resettled.
There was silence for a brief space after this harangue, while the group of officers behind Falkland surveyed anxiously the faces of the little line of sepoys confronting him, stolid and unmoved under this harangue. Then the corporal stepped out with his musket at the "advance," and rapping it with his left hand after the mode of saluting in those days, said simply, "We will stay here, sahib," and then stepped back again to his place.
Many of the officers would have liked to shake hands with the gallant fellows, but anything like demonstration was withheld, from a feeling that to treat them more familiarly than usual would look as if bidding unfairly for their services. Falkland merely said, "Well done, sepoys! I did not expect any other reply," — and dismissed the detachment.
Then he assembled his servants, or rather the remnant of them, about a dozen, told them what was coming, and that those who wanted to go were at liberty to take themselves off, and were invited to do so openly. Those who elected to stay should receive double wages, and the families of any who might be killed a pension. They, too, all declared their willingness to stand by their master; but some of them spoke in a sulky, hesitating way, as if they did not mean it.
Only a short time now remained for final preparations. The fortification of the house was now as complete as it could be made; the last thing to be done was to demolish the servants' houses, a long range of sheds extending along the north-east side of the park. The roofs, of wood covered with thatch, were set on fire, and the walls partially pulled down; but the tenacious mud bricks resisted the efforts of the small working party, and the demolition was incomplete. The stables were treated in the same way. The horses, a large number of which were now collected in the place, were sent away with their grooms in charge of the jemadar's brother, to be kept at his home in a village about thirty miles off, three only being retained, Falkland's Irish mare, his wife's Arab, and Yorke's gallant grey, which were brought under the portico and picketed there. "Another sacrifice to appearances," said Falkland to Yorke, looking on at the demolition; "if I had done my duty, these stables should have been razed to the ground a week ago. They will give the enemy cover, if we really are to be besieged."
"It must be nearly three hundred yards from the house, sir," replied the young man; "Pandy won't do much execution at that distance. Sparrow's house is in more dangerous proximity; I wish we were going to occupy that as an advanced post."
"Had we known that the garrison would be reinforced in this way by your gallant sepoys, the thing might have been done; but there is not time now to store it, and after all we shall not be too many to hold the main building properly."
That evening all of the party who were not on picket-duty assembled for supper in the large dining-room, where the table was laid with a semblance of order, the grey-bearded old butler standing behind the chair at the end of it, dressed in white as usual; and a person in ignorance of what had happened, looking on the scene, would have been puzzled to account for what was fantastic about it. The room was dimly lighted, and the fare was frugal in kind and limited in quantity, for the supply of food must be husbanded; but champagne-bottles were on the table, for Falkland said that the stock of that wine had better be drunk first; and although the garb of the officers was peculiar, most of them being in any garments they could borrow, and all wearing swords and pistols or revolvers in their belts, the ladies were dressed in the ordinary way — Mrs. Falkland in a robe of white, which seemed as fresh as if just put on, while the folds of her rich brown hair were as neat as ever. Nor was conversation wanting. The certainty of coming dangers was felt to be a relief from the suspense of the last few days. To those who had been fugitives, their present position, after the perils they had escaped, seemed comparatively one of security. They were rested, and their appetite appeased, and ​the spirit of youth asserted itself. To all, the sense of numbers and the firmness of purpose imparted by Falkland's bearing gave courage, and good-natured jests at the situation freely circulated. The party were in fact quite merry.
Yorke sat next to Olivia. The latter had been about to take her usual place at the head of the table when stopped by Mrs. Polwheedle. "I suppose we must consider this a garrison mess, now, my dear. I brought a lot of things with me in the carriage when we came — your butler has got the most of them; and so, I believe, did Buxey. We must all contribute what we can, without ceremony; I am sure I for one could not think of letting the commissioner provide everything. The brigadier ought to be at the head of the table, of course, if he could come, but perhaps in his absence it would be better if I took his place — don't you think so?" and so saying, the lady sat down in the chair, and Mrs. Falkland, with a gentle smile, moved aside and took a place at the side, next to Yorke as it happened, who hastened to place a chair for her, feeling for the time as if even the mutiny were cheaply undergone, since it procured him such favour. During the last two days they had scarcely exchanged a word, but Olivia had greeted him with such kindly smiles, whenever his duties had brought him into her presence, as the youngster felt to be more than a recompense for anything he had done. He hoped nothing, and expected nothing; but to be received by her on the footing of a trusted friend, as he felt himself now to be, seemed sufficient happiness for such a one as him.
"You are eating nothing, Mrs. Falkland," he said. "You ought to take something; this may be our last quiet meal before — before business begins."
"No, thank you. Eating seems impossible just now;" and then correcting herself, as she noticed that her neighbours were busily disproving the assertion, she added, "but then I have not earned any supper. I feel terribly useless here — simply an additional source of anxiety to all of you."
"Don't say that, pray," said the young man, eagerly, "The feeling that we have to defend you will give the best stimulus to the defence. But I wish you were a thousand miles off," he added, "for all that. What a pity Colonel Falkland did not insist on your going away while there was a chance! However, it is too late for regret now."
"Is that a kind wish, to wish I should be from my husband, and leave him to go through this peril alone? It is selfish to wish to be here, I know, for we add to your troubles and anxieties, and of course you would rather that we were out of the way."
"Don't say that!" cried the young man with fervour; "and yet I don't mean it. Of course we should like you to be saved from this peril and discomfort, and all that; but I feel as if I could fight with tenfold vigour when I know that I am trying to defend you from harm."
"Thank you," she said, simply; "I think I must try and find my husband, and get him to have something to eat: he allows himself neither rest nor food;" and so saying, Olivia rose, while Yorke felt ashamed of himself for having talked like a braggart. It would be time enough to speak about what he could do when he had the opportunity of actually showing: himself a soldier. And for a few moments the young man sat oblivious of the scene, almost of the fact that his late companion was no longer a maiden, repeating, as he had been wont to do, each word of his scanty conversation with her, when recalled to the reality of life by the voice of Mrs. Polwheedle saying to her next neighbour, "Just ask young Yorke to pass that stew that is before him." That lady apparently considered that a state of siege did away with the need for using prefixes to surnames.
CHAPTER XXIII.
During the following night the whole garrison remained on the alert, while the picket on duty made frequent rounds through the grounds. These so far were empty, but the court-house appeared to be occupied in force, and the hum of men stirring in the city could be distinguished in the stillness of the night, and the frequent discharge of firearms was heard, whether in fight or in sport could not be told. The brigadier, at the suggestion of Captain Buxey, had proposed that some of the servants should be sent out to bring back news of what was going on; but Falkland objected that a spy might also convey information of the state of things inside the fortification, and the idea was not acted upon. Nor, when morning broke, were the garrison long left in doubt as to what was impending. One of the two officers stationed as an outpost by the ruined servants' houses brought word that a large ​body of trained men, apparently sepoys, were marching down from the city across the plain to the court-house. They halted behind it; but the look out man on the residency roof, notwithstanding the intervening trees, made them out before they got under shelter of that building to be about a thousand strong, evidently sepoys, dressed in the short white jacket and waist-cloths usually worn when off duty, but wearing their regulation cross-belts and pouch-boxes, and led by their native officers, one or two of whom were on horseback.
Falkland ordered the advanced sentries who had been stationed round the building, and at some distance from it, to fall back on the picket, which stood drawn up on the road half-way between the house and the entrance-gate, the rest of the garrison being in rear immediately before the portico.
Presently several men could be seen in the veranda of the court-house reconnoitring the situation, and apparently consulting what was the next step to take.
The picket stood on the walk, a motley band, some white, some dark, in various dress and variously armed; the sepoys with their muskets, the Europeans for the most part with sporting-rifles, but all standing firm in double rank, as if on parade — Braddon, who had been selected for the command, at their head. Falkland was a few yards in advance, watching the proceedings through his field-glass, with Yorke, who had been acting as a sort of orderly officer to him, in attendance.
Only parts of the court-house and adjacent ground could be seen for the intervening trees; so that, although the distance was inconsiderable, some observation was needed to make out the situation clearly.
In a few minutes a party of sepoys could be seen, fifty or sixty in number, running out from behind the court-house and dispersing in skirmishing order along the park-wall. Some were soon hidden behind it; of others the heads could be seen above it.
Then muskets were levelled at the picket, there were some puffs of smoke along the top of the wall, and instantaneously the sounds of angry bullets whizzing past.
It was the first time Yorke had heard the sound of a shot fired in earnest; and he experienced the curious sensation which a bullet produces when aimed at the listener. The shots were all wide of the mark, but singing as they flew by, they seemed to be very close.
"The rascals fire in the air as usual," said Falkland to his companion, in a quiet voice, and with a grim smile; "see the advantage of your system of musketry instruction, Yorke." After a few seconds, while the firing continued, he added, "Tell the picket to retire within the enclosure."
Yorke turned to convey the order, and would fain have run to the picket, for the whizzing of the bullets, about his ears as it seemed, was increasing in frequency; but it would not do to appear excited where every one else was cool, so he executed the commission at a walk, looking much more unconcerned than he felt.
"It's about time," said Braddon in reply to the message, as he gave the word to the picket to march within shelter. "I hope the colonel doesn't mean to stay out and get shot; the brutes will be getting the range soon."
Yorke returned to Falkland, who was standing with his hands behind his back surveying the ground in front.
It was now broad daylight, and just then a bullet hit the gravel almost at their feet.
Falkland turned towards Yorke and smiled again. "I think we may follow the others now," he said, and led the way to the portico.
"Let us come up on the roof," he added, when they got inside.
"This is very satisfactory," he remarked, turning round to Yorke as they mounted the staircase.
"Very, sir," replied the young man; "I began to think we should get knocked over before the business began."
"Well, that is satisfactory, too," rejoined the colonel when they had reached the roof, and were standing together by the parapet, which covered them nearly to the waists; "but I was referring to Pandy's mode of attack. It is very satisfactory to see him beginning in this respectful style. If they had made a rush on the place, and had been prepared to lose a few men in doing so, there is no saying how matters might have gone; but if they are going to content themselves with potting away in this feeble manner, they may keep at it for a century without hurting us. See, there goes a reinforcement of skirmishers! the whole wall will be lined with men presently, and the other sides of the building are going to be blockaded in the same way." As Falkland spoke, two bodies of sepoys, each ​three or four hundred strong, could be seen marching off from behind the court-house to the right and left, as if intending to occupy the ground on the remaining sides of the park.
"I think they are firing at us now, sir," said Yorke presently, as a bullet came singing past, apparently close to their ears.
"Possibly, but more probably an indication of your true sepoy's ineradicable propensity to fire at the sky. However, we have seen enough for the present. But we shall want a snug place for a lookout man here. Have some of your spare sandbags brought up, to line a bit of the parapet with."
No wonder people admire Falkland, thought Yorke to himself, as he descended the staircase to execute the order; he certainly is a splendid fellow; but if she were my wife, I don't think I could risk my life in that way.
Thus the siege of the residency had begun.