# Littell's Living Age/Volume 127/Issue 1638/The Dilemma - Part XI

From Blackwood's Magazine.
THE DILEMMA.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
The capture and occupation of the residency lodge, as Sparrow's house was styled, in the night attack conducted by Falkland and recounted in our last number, gave a new aspect to the defence. It is true that the main garrison had to be ​reduced by the strength of the picket now established in the new outpost; but the relief caused by the latter more than compensated for this. The guards could now be withdrawn from the east side of the main building, and those in the portico and bath-house were reduced in strength. Moreover, the ground between the two buildings was now practically free from fire. The moral effect of the victory was even greater. Not only had the enemy made no progress in their blockade; they had been forced to give ground. Falkland was sensible, indeed, that he had made a blunder in not occupying the lodge in the first instance, but was consoled by the reflection that even the most successful war is made up of blunders; and although poor Braywell's cheerful face was missed, and the little garrison could ill spare the gap made by the night's work in its slender muster-roll, still the loss sustained was extremely small considering the nature of the service. The garrison was naturally, therefore, in high spirits next morning, and a sense of excitement pervaded the building. Those were to be envied who were sent over to the lodge on errands with supplies or messages, giving them the opportunity to examine for themselves the scene of the exploit; while the account of the affair which those who had come back after taking part in it were called on to repeat in the different parts of the building, afforded matter for endless conversation and questionings. Miss Peart wanted to run across under Spragge's escort to see the place herself, but was stopped by her mother. No sign of the enemy could now be discerned from the main building, except by the look-out on the roof; and, in the absence of any present danger, it seemed as if the active siege were really over, and that at most they would now have to undergo a blockade, which must surely be raised very soon. Colonel Falkland had calculated that the relief would arrive in a week at latest, and four days had already passed.
Four days! it might have been a year, so long did the time seem since they were first shut up, and so completely had the emergency of present needs effaced for the time all interest in the past. The few acres of ground commanded by the rifles of the little garrison made up their world; and beyond an occasional expression listlessly thrown out as to how things might be passing in the rest of India, the conversation within all turned on the business of the hour. The last reports of the look-out man of any movements observed among the enemy, whose main camp was still pitched beyond the court-house about half a mile off, and the interpretation to beput upon them; any change ordered in the roster for duty; counting the hours till it should be time to serve out the rations of tobacco; criticisms on the toughness of the mutton stew, which formed the main item of their simple meals; calculations whose turn it was to receive a share of the beer which Captain Buxey doled out with economic care, — these were for the most part the topics of conversation.
At first sight the appearance presented by the interior of the building during this time might have seemed one of disorder; here and there in the verandas men lying asleep on cots at any hour of the day, others strolling listlessly from place to place to exchange a word with their comrades at other posts, while in the drawing-room a group of persons might be seen lounging about, the etiquette of manners preserved among them being strangely at variance with their haggard and dishevelled appearance; a few only of the men wore coats over their shirts or under-waistcoats, which with dirty white or flannel trousers made up a costume in keeping with the unshorn and hot but pallid faces of the wearers; while of the ladies' garb the best that could be said was that it was feminine, the wearers having for the most part abandoned any attempt at adornment as well as at trying to keep cool, and wearing their hair tied in a knot at the back of the head. A few fanned themselves when they had leisure, but generally the heat was allowed to take its course as something too fierce to be contended with. Not that the room looked untidy; of the servants who had remained with their master, one belonged to the sweeper caste, and performed his customary functions of sweeping all the floors daily, while the ladies took it in turn to dust the furniture. Nor amid the seeming listlessness or movement about the place was there any real disorder or want of discipline. Only those were asleep who were off duty, and only a fourth part of each of the different guards could be absent from their post at a time. A sentry was stationed at the headquarters of each post, who, standing on a table so as to look over the parapet, watched the ground in front. There was always also a look-out man on the roof of the building; the rounds were made every hour by a senior officer; and whether on or off duty, every one had his weapons with him ready for ​instant use. At night the garrison was on the alert, so sleep must be taken by day. The ladies, too, had their regular turn of duty in the sick-room, while Mrs. Hodder and Mrs. De Souza the clerk's wife undertook the washing of such garments as could be spared for the purpose. Thus all were occupied, with the exception only of Mrs. O'Halloran, the wife of the bazaar-sergeant who had been killed on the night of the outbreak, an East Indian, who, although the mother of two children and soon to be the mother of a third, looked but a child herself. Such mental and bodily powers as the poor creature might have possessed, had become quite paralyzed by the shock of events. Having found her way to the residency on the night of the outbreak, in the carriage in which her husband had placed his wife and children before he went off himself to get shot at his post of duty, she seemed incapable of rousing herself to do anything, but sat day after day listlessly in a chair, speaking when addressed, and coming to table at meal-times, but taking no apparent interest in what was going on around. Fortunately Mrs. Hodder had taken the children under her care, washing them and dressing them in their scanty clothing every morning, while Miss Peart helped her to look after them during the day; and the poor dusky little things, who partook more of the nature of native than European children, were perfectly docile and contented, amusing themselves happily with the little rag dolls which that young lady had fabricated for them. "I can't make out properly what Mrs. O'Halloran says," Miss Peart had remarked to Spragge; "she does talk in such an extraordinary way — it isn't English and it isn't Hindustani, or like anything else I ever heard before; but only think, she is not sixteen yet, at least as far as she knows, for she is not sure about her age, and she can neither read nor write. Her father was a band-boy in your regiment; isn't it dreadful? He may actually be fighting against us!" "You may depend on it, the band-boys are not fighting," replied Spragge, "whatever else they may be doing; that is not at all in their line." But indeed no one knew what had become of the Christian bandsmen belonging to the native regiments — whether they had been killed, or had run away, or were serving with the mutineers. Drums and fifes had been heard every evening proceeding from the rebel camp, but these might belong to the 80th, whose bandsmen were all natives.
This day, then, was the most tranquil which the garrison had passed. They had become used to the hardships of the situation; all was quiet without and prosperous within, for the three wounded men were doing well. Captain Sparrow displayed a philosophical resignation to the misfortune which deprived the garrison of his services; and when Justine, to whom fell the office of waiting on him, was dilating to Yorke, as she met him in the doorway of the sick-room, on the sad chance which struck down the gallant captain while nobly leading the attack upon his own house, the latter did not feel it necessary to tell her or any one else, that as no shots had been fired until the assailants had entered the veranda, the captain must have been considerably to the rear of the party to have been hit while outside.
As Olivia came out of the ladies' room that evening into the west veranda to join the party on duty there for a little fresh air and conversation, she stood for a moment in the doorway watching with amusement the young men engaged in hunting a scorpion which had crawled under an empty beer-box. "That's the seventh scorpion which has been killed in this veranda," said Spragge, as he dexterously extracted the insect from a crevice in the box wherein it had tried to take refuge; "see what a monster it is, Mrs. Falkland!" he continued, holding it up between his finger and thumb for the lady's inspection. "You needn't be afraid of it; grasp a scorpian by the tail firmly in this way, you see, and he is impotent for evil, like Pandy outside if you show him the muzzle of a rifle. But he must perish, nevertheless; no quarter can be given to the enemy," — and so saying, the young man dropped the scorpion on the pavement and trod upon it.
"I cannot think why there should be this plague of scorpions," said Olivia, sitting down on a chair which one of the party had placed for her; "we used not to be troubled with them at all in former days."
"It is because the ground has been disturbed," said Yorke; "they live in the ground, and the digging of these ditches round the house has brought them out."
"I don't know what the cause may be," said Spragge, "but I protest, as a man and a sentry, against being exposed to these risks. Life will become positively dangerous if this sort of thing goes on. Talk about 'nervous duty' indeed! 'nervous duty' is a joke to sitting down on one of ​these boxes without taking an observation first."
"There is no rose without a thorn," observed another young fellow. "Life in this veranda would be really too jolly if it wasn't flavoured with a chance of scorpions; besides, there is to be no 'nervous duty' to-night, so the one is a set-off against the other."
"Nervous duty" was the slang name given in the garrison to any special service, such as the enterprise of the previous night.
The western veranda being the hottest part of the building at evening, was usually the least frequented at that time; and on this occasion its only occupants besides Olivia were the guard stationed there, one of whom, being on duty, was standing on a chest looking over the parapet; the two sepoys attached to the post were sitting on the floor at the end, smoking a joint hookah, with their muskets by their side; while three or four officers stood leaning on their rifles round Olivia's chair. Unshorn, and clad in scanty garments soiled with dust and sweat, yet they looked like true knights ready to protect their princess to the death; and sounds of light laughter broke from the little group, while Olivia joined in the conversation, her manner with them all being such as might become a sister among trusty brothers. The young men in the garrison almost worshipped Mrs. Falkland, who had sympathy and gracious words for all.
The others were rallying Yorke on what they termed his dandified appearance; and indeed that young officer was the only one of the party in a clean shirt — a phenomenon which he was fain to explain, apologetically, was due to his having selfishly kept back a brace of those garments for his own use, while distributing the rest of his wardrobe among his fugitive brother officers, so that he could indulge in an occasional change of raiment. "But you will look just as shabby as any of us by to-morrow, my boy," said Spragge, "for the laundry arrangements appear to have collapsed. A useful garment of mine has been at the wash ever since yesterday morning, and hasn't turned up yet." Then, as the little party was breaking up, Olivia, as she passed into her room, called to Yorke to follow and bring his other shirt for her to wash; and as she insisted on being obeyed, notwithstanding his protestations, he was fain to produce the soiled garment from his box. Yorke felt ashamed of himself when delivering it up, for allowing her to take it from him. It was well enough for Mrs. Hodder and Mrs. De Souza to act as washerwomen, but that Olivia should undertake this menial office on his behalf seemed like desecration. Nevertheless, as he stood by, while Olivia, baring her white arms, poured water into a basin, and after washing the shirt, handed it to him with a sisterly smile to hang up to dry in the veranda, it seemed to the young man as if she had never borne so noble a presence. He could have stooped to the ground in his veneration to kiss the hem of her robe, and for the time he felt that the life they were now leading, which brought him near her person, and made him one of her defenders, was far happier than the old days of peace and banishment from her presence.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The night began quietly, but had not made much advance when the look-out sentry in the west veranda heard a noise in the garden and called up his guard, and soon the whole garrison was under arms. Sounds could be made out as of a body of men collected there, behind the hedge, and therefore not more than fifty yards off, and for some time the defenders remained in continued expectation of another immediate attack. But the hours passed on and no forward movement was made, while the sound of digging could be distinctly heard. The enemy were apparently intrenching themselves in this advanced position. About midnight Falkland sent out Yorke and the jemadar to reconnoitre, one from the bath-house trench, the other from the portico. But this time the enemy were not to be caught napping; they had sentries all along the hedge, preventing approach to the scene of operations, and the scouts could only make out that the garden seemed full of men, and that the spade was hard at work. It seemed useless to throw away ammunition by firing in the dark: but the garrison was kept under arms all night, although no longer expecting an immediate attack, yet filled with the uneasiness which men acting on the defensive must feel, when their assailants are planning some new scheme against them.
In the morning a long mound from three to four feet high could be seen here and there in the gaps between the bushes, at a distance of about fifty yards from and parallel to the house. At first the garrison supposed that this was merely a device to annoy them by bringing musketry-fire on the building at close quarters; but ​the trench was not made use of for this purpose, nor was there any fire opened from other quarters. The new position, however, was evidently occupied in some force; men could be seen coming and going, although the bushes were too thick to distinguish their movements plainly; and all day long the spade was kept at work, and it could be seen that more earth was being thrown up.
For so long as the garrison was kept under arms, no man could leave his post; but when about sunrise it became apparent that no immediate enterprise was in contemplation by the enemy, the usual routine was returned to, and some of the members of each guard being now free to go about the building, this new move of the rebels was everywhere warmly discussed, the general opinion being to the effect that the colonel would not allow Pandy to take the offensive in this way for nothing, and that another bout of "nervous duty" might be looked for soon. And public opinion was right. For some time Falkland, watching the enemy's proceedings from the roof, was puzzled to know what they meant; but Braddon, who was crouching beside him behind the west veranda parapet, suddenly hit on the true solution. They were sinking a well from which to drive a mine under the building. There could be no doubt about it. All this extra digging could be with no other object, for the parapet was high enough to afford ample cover already, if a trench of occupation only were in contemplation. The unaggressive attitude of the enemy all this time confirmed the suspicion. No loopholes garnished the crest of the trench, as would have been the case if it was meant for offensive purposes, and the garrison provoked no fire by exposing themselves above their walls in watching the operation. The enemy evidently wanted not to provoke an exchange of fire, but to carry on their digging without disturbance. The well-sinkers of Mustaphabad were famous. Fifty feet a-day would be easy work in that light soil. Give them three days and the building would be reached and blown up.
Falkland's resolution was soon taken. A sally must be made, and the miners driven away at all costs. Another surprise like that on Sparrow's house could not be hoped for; but by creeping down to the south of the garden, and then working up along the line of the hedge, the enemy might be taken in flank unawares, and if roughly handled they would probably give up their occupation of the garden; and then, their last attempt failing, they might lose heart and break up the siege altogether. The brigadier gave his consent; and Braddon, whom Falkland consulted, entirely approved of the enterprise, only suggesting as a useful condition that he should be allowed to form one of the party. It was arranged that the sally should be made by the force told off to relieve the lodge picket, before proceeding to that place at dark; and accordingly, when that relief, consisting of five officers and four sepoys under Major Peart, paraded for duty at sunset in the bath-house, Falkland and Braddon joined them there, and the former announced the proposed enterprise to the party, explaining with great minuteness the plan of operations. The success of the sally would depend on every man knowing exactly what had to be done.
Thus the scheme had been kept pretty quiet; for the different persons told off to take a share, as they made their way to the rendezvous, looked to be merely the relief parading for the lodge picket, and the brigadier had again been made to promise not to tell the ladies: but as usual in such cases, the intention had leaked out; the fact that Braddon — who commanded in the portico, and who had never been absent save for a few minutes from his post — should be selected for picket duty was noted; and a feeling of expectancy pervaded the building, extending even to the sick-room.
"Are you for nervous duty again tonight, Arty?" said little Raugh, as Yorke came up to his bedside before repairing to the rendezvous, carrying a musket and girded with a belt and bayonet. "What's up again to-night?"
"Nothing particular," replied Yorke; "but it is as well to be ready for duty; besides, the picket has got orders to wear bayonets." This he added for Olivia's information, who had come up to the bedside, and was looking anxiously at him.
"But you don't go on picket duty, do you? You are the colonel's staff-officer, you know. What's the good of trying to humbug a fellow?" said the sick lad, crossly; and then, turning to Olivia, he cried, "Oh, Mrs. Falkland, how long you have been away! I thought you were never coming back."
​"Oh, I don't care about Justine," replied Johnny; "let her stick to Sparrow — they seem to suit each other;" and the two listeners, turning to look in the direction of Captain Sparrow's bed, could not help smiling at what they saw — for that gentleman, propped by a chair supporting his pillow, was sitting up and holding one of his fair nurse's hands with empressement, while the latter, fanning him with the other, was looking downwards with an expressive simper on her face which indicated that the captain's conversation was of a gratifying nature.
"The poor boy is rather feverish this evening," said Olivia to Yorke, following him a few steps as he returned towards the door, "and that makes him irritable; but of course he is right in his suspicion. There is to be another attack somewhere to-night, I can see; and if you are going, my husband must be going too. He must have gone to the bath-house already; I could not find him anywhere. If I had, I would not have said a word to dissuade him; but oh, Mr. Yorke, is it right for him always to put himself in the front in this way?" And Olivia's large eyes looked anxiously into his, as she waited for an answer.
"I don't think there will be much in the way of danger, Mrs. Falkland," replied the young man, involuntarily looking downwards; for the glance cast on him was almost more than he could bear, and he felt that to return it would betray his secret. "Pandy has been hit so hard that he is pretty well knocked out of time, and is not likely to show fight; besides, example is everything, and the colonel is worth a dozen men in work like this. But I will do what I can to prevent his exposing himself more than necessary, although perhaps that may not be much."
"Thank you, my noble friend," said Olivia, with fervour, holding out her hand; "God bring you back safe again!"
"Much she cares about my safe return," thought the young man bitterly, as he moved away. "All she thinks about is the colonel. And yet if it were otherwise should I not cease to worship her? She would not be my ideal woman if she were not a true wife."
The little detachment was drawn up on the platform of the bath-house, while Colonel Falkland explained carefully what had to be done, translating his instructions to the four sepoys who formed part of it. Then they waited till it should be dark enough to sally forth.
As soon as the time arrived for starting, Falkland, taking Yorke aside, told him he had better return to the house, and give word to Major Dumble, who was left in command, that the expedition was starting.
"But surely, sir, you will take your aide-de-camp with you?" pleaded Yorke.
"No, no, my dear boy — not this time; there is no work for a staff-officer to do. Besides, there are enough of us as it is."
"You forget, sir, that I know the ins and outs of the garden better than anybody. I may really be of use."
"There is something in that," said the colonel, "but I want to leave somebody behind with a head on his shoulders. Well, Braddon," he continued, turning to that officer, and calling him up to where they were standing, "Let Yorke take your place; it will be better that you should remain to look after matters here."
"Confound it, colonel," pleaded Braddon, "let us have fair play, please. I haven't been on nervous duty of any sort for ever so long. Besides, I think a fellow ought to have a mouthful of fresh air when he gets a chance. That main guard is the very deuce for heat."
"Why, this is rank mutiny," said Falkland, laughing. "Well, I suppose you must have your way. You, Yorke, can come as a supernumerary; keep behind me."
Then Falkland led the way out of the bath-house at the south end, through a gap made in the parapet round the well, and the party moved silently down in single file away from the building. All were armed with muskets and bayonets except the leader, who had a sword and revolver. When they had advanced about a hundred yards Falkland turned to his right, followed in the same order till the garden was reached, when, passing through an opening in the hedge, the party faced to their right, forming a line of single files at one pace distance from each other, of which Falkland was on the left or outer flank — Braddon, who had brought up the rear, being on the right, and just within the line of the hedge. Thus the assailants were on the flank of the enemy's working-party posted opposite to the house, on which they now silently advanced after pausing for a few seconds to get into order, during which they could distinctly hear the hum of voices and the noise of the diggers. Whatever caution the enemy might have taken against surprise, they evidently did not expect an attack from this quarter; and the assailants ​advanced for some distance without being perceived, till they came upon a couple of men lying on the ground behind a bush. There was a momentary waving of the line, a couple of dull thuds with the bayonet and a muttered cry, and the line moved on. But this silence could not be maintained. One of the party, as they made their way through the bushes, stumbled and fell; the noise was heard by the enemy's guard; and as the line came up they had started to their feet and were standing huddled in a group, as if irresolute and not knowing what to expect. The bushes were thick and the darkness great, and the assailants were close on their foes before any resistance was made. Then one or two shots were fired, lighting up the scene, a line of a dozen men pressing forward against a much larger body, but irresolute and in disorder. "I am hit," called out Major Peart, falling to the ground. "Fire, and charge!" cried Falkland, discharging his revolver as he spoke, and a volley fired at arm's length was followed by a rush and a hand-to-hand fight. Several sepoys fell, others fled, some fired their muskets; a few sprang on the line sword in hand, and were killed with the bayonets. Two attacked Falkland, who was on the flank, at once, and the sabre of one would have cut him down; but Yorke, who was behind him, parrying the stroke with his bayonet, ran the assailant through. It was real fighting, but lasted only for a few seconds, and then the place was cleared of the enemy, and only the victors remained and the slain, whose bodies, clad in white jackets and waist-cloths, lay scattered on the ground.
One or two of the party made as if to stop and look after their wounded comrade, but Falkland called on them to keep in line and clear the garden first; and the line advanced along the whole length of it, and then wheeling round on their left, turned back and pushed through it again, this time at a greater distance from the house. Three or four times they traversed the garden in this way, gradually working to the boundary-wall and clearing it of enemies. Here and there they came on a white-clothed figure, which flitted away at their approach, sometimes firing at random first. The enemy, taken by surprise and bewildered at the nature of the attack and without leaders, had abandoned the garden almost without resistance, leaving some ten or a dozen of their comrades on the ground. They now began, however, to line the garden-wall, and to send from behind it an ill-directed fire, and Falkland withdrew his party towards the spot where Peart had fallen. But although this could at once be recognized by the bodies of the dead sepoys. Peart was missing. "He must have got up and made his way into the house," said one; and Falkland despatched Spragge to find out if this was so. "We must not leave him alone if he is still outside," he said; "it was one thing to spoil the effect of our advance by stopping to look after the wounded, it is another to desert a wounded comrade;" and the party rested for a few minutes, examining as far as they could in the darkness the nature of the enemy's work behind the trench, which confirmed the suspicion on which the sally had been undertaken. Close to the scene of the fight was the shaft of a well into which one of the party nearly fell; and Yorke descending into it by the ladder which the enemy had left, groped his way, the colonel's revolver in hand, along the gallery running out from the bottom, some thirty feet long already — fortunately for him, deserted.
Presently a messenger came from the house to say that Peart had certainly not returned either to the main building or to the bath-house. " He must have moved a little, perhaps by the way we came," said Falkland; "let us search in that direction;" and they traversed the garden along the hedge up to the starting-point, but without success. The two dead sepoys who were first killed were lying where they had been left, but their own comrade was not to be seen. Then Falkland spread out his party to extend the search, and at last one of them stumbled on something under a bush, which appeared to be the missing officer." He is soaking in blood," said Braddon, stooping down, "and cannot speak." "Has any one a light about him?" asked Falkland, also bending over the body, and trying in vain to discover its condition in the darkness.
A match was produced and lighted, and by the clear flame which rose steadily in the still air, the dress could be recognized as that of Peart, but the features were undistinguishable, so slashed was the face with sword-cuts, while the body, besides being mangled in the same way, was pierced with bayonet-wounds. He seemed to recognize them, but could not speak. "Shall we lift him up and carry him back, sir?" whispered Braddon. "Better call the doctor here," replied Falkland, placing his hand on the clotted fragments of clothes that covered the wounded man's heart. "Yorke, do you go and fetch ​Maxwell; and Braddon, do you move forward with half-a-dozen men and extend in our front, to give warning if the enemy should advance. Not that they will molest us tonight. And, Yorke, we shall want a lantern."
Another brief space ensued, while the little group surrounded the wounded man, whose low moans alone broke the silence. Then Maxwell came, and the lantern was lighted behind the bushes, whence its light could not reach towards the enemy; but the doctor had scarcely arrived when the moans ceased, and he shook his head as he arose from stooping over the body. "He could not have lived long in that state," he observed; "it is as well he has died at once."
"We will bury him here in the trench," said Falkland; "it is better that his poor wife should not see him." And they set to work with some shovels which had been found lying scattered about at the top of the mine.
Thus had the sortie done its work of clearing the garden, and the whole business did not last ten minutes; but it was more than an hour before the party returned within the protection of the building, for on Peart's burial, Falkland set some of them to throw the dead bodies of the sepoys into the mine, and shovel the earth taken from it back again, while the rest kept guard in front. But the enemy's random fire from behind the wall took effect at last. One of the sepoys came up to Falkland to say he was hit, and asked leave to go back, and the latter then drew off the rest of the party.
The course of the enterprise had been watched by the ladies from the top of the house. The time had gone by for thinking about stray bullets; and, having sought the open air at dusk, they were not to be persuaded to descend by the warning given them by Captain Buxey, the only officer off duty, of the dangers of the coming sortie. They stood facing the western parapet, looking down with throbbing hearts on the scene below. The brief main conflict took place within fifty yards of them; and they could distinguish the voices which uttered the hurried oaths and cries, as the assailants met their foes, while the flash of the firearms lighted up the group for an instant. Bushes concealed the bodies, but their heads and shoulders were clear in view; it was a momentary vision of men engaged in mortal strife, breathing hate and passion in their faces. Then all was dark; but there could be heard the tramping of persons hurrying through the bushes, while the position of the fire, which new and then flashed out of the darkness, showed that the assailants were driving the enemy out of the garden.
No one dared ask the others whether they thought there had been any loss.
"What is that?" presently whispered some one, as a movement could be heard close to the edge of the garden, at the spot where the encounter had taken place. "Can that be our people coming back?" But no, they were still at the far end of the garden, some three hundred yards off. The noise was really caused by the rebel sepoys who were down in the mine when the attack took place, and who, creeping out after the sortie had advanced, came upon the body of the wounded Peart, and were dragging it away, but, getting hurried, had hacked and stabbed him, and run off.
Then the lookers-on could make out that the assailants were returning after scouring the garden, and then that they were halted by the mine-head. Presently a footstep could be heard on the gravel, and a figure seen making for the covered way, and exchanging words with the guard within, and the ladies ran down to the rooms below to meet Spragge as he entered the building. "They have carried the mine in splendid style," said one of the officers who surrounded Spragge to the ladies as they came hurrying up; "but Spragge has come to know if Peart is here; he has been hit, and is missing. They think he must have come back by himself."
"What is that about my husband?" cried Mrs. Peart, pressing forward in the dimly-lighted veranda towards Spragge; "what has happened?"
"He was hit at the first go-off," Spragge answered, "but not badly, we hope, or he couldn't have walked home, you know. Where is the doctor?" continued Spragge, and staggering forward he would have fallen if another officer had not caught him; and by the light just then brought up, his breast was seen to be dripping with blood. Then while Maxwell and Grumbull laid him on the floor and examined his wound, the vain search was made through and round the building for the missing officer.
Shortly afterwards Maxwell was summoned away, and left his patient with Grumbull. "Thank you, Grumbull," said the wounded man, faintly, as the former continued the examination; "every confidence in you, of course, but I would rather wait till Maxwell comes back; so pray let ​me alone for a bit, like a good fellow." Then as Mrs. Peart, candle in hand, and with a scared face, was traversing the building, some one told her that her husband was found, and then that he was dead, and that they were burying him in the garden.
When the party returned, Falkland sought out Mrs. Peart, and told her that her husband had fallen while gallantly doing his duty, and patting Kitty Peart on the head as she stood by looking up at the colonel, told her to be a brave girl, and help her mother to bear the trial. It was one of the strangest scenes of those strange times: the group of officers, flushed and hot from their labours, telling the story to such of their comrades as were free to join them; a little in advance of them Falkland talking to Mrs. Peart, behind whom were assembled the other ladies, who had come to hear the news; the one lamp suspended from the ceiling throwing a dim light over the big room, the candle Mrs. Peart still carried bringing into stronger relief Falkland's grave face and the scared aspect of the poor widow, while the daughter, with Falkland's hand resting on her head, had burst into tears. "Come away, dear," said Olivia, gently; and, putting her arm round Mrs. Peart's waist, led her away to the ladies' room, whither the sobbing girl followed them.
Spragge had had a narrow escape with his life, the bullet which hit him having glanced off, making a flesh-wound and breaking a rib. He was put to bed in the sick-room and tended with the other patients, and warmly commended in the morning by Falkland for his behaviour in keeping his place in the line till the fighting was over, notwithstanding his wound. The sepoy hit by the stray bullet while filling up the mine was less fortunate. He had been shot through the body; and although he did not feel much hurt at first, and was able to walk back, he died in the morning.