The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1891-04-11


moment There was no man in the gar
rison whom he valued and trusted more
than st. George Vane He knew well the
danger of the proposed adventure; and he
knew well, also, that Vane, if he were
allowed TO undertake it, would never rest
until his task succeeded, or he himself were
killed in the attempt. But in warfare
private feelings must give way to the gen
eral good, After moment the Colonel
laid his hand on the young mans shoulder
and said briefly:
"Try ~
Il CHAPTER II.
An hour or two later Vane entered his
Fown room. II was a large apartment, sit
uated at the back of the walled nclosure,
which, on account of its size, had come to
be used by the officers as a common room
Its windows opened on wide veranda,
which extended the whole length of the
building, having the windows also opening
upon it. The largest of these rooms had
been set apart for the use of the ladies of
the garrison, and, as the veranda was cool,
! shady and retired, they were often accus-
toned to sit there, in preference to breath
ing the close heat of the room within.
At the moment when Vane entered two
figures were sitting on the veranda, not far
from his own window-two girls. One of
these was tall, slight girl, pale and light
haired-nOt handsome nor even remark
able, except for her eyes, which were large,
gray, serious, and, when at rest, deep rather
than bright Her companion, on the other
hand, was a girl of singular beauty; girl
with dark hair, dark eyes, rather full, red
lips and skin of soft and flower like bloom.
The name of the pale girl was Mary Sui
land; that of the beautiful one was Lenora
Dundas. The latter was the COlonel's
daughter; Mary Sulland was his ward.
Before the mutiny they had lived together
with an old English servant, Mrs. Jessop,
in the Colonels bungalow, outside the
fortified inclosure.
The characters of these two girls we will
leave to reveal themselves as we proceed,
only recording the relations in which they
stood to St. George Vane, who had known
them both since they were children.
Like all men of her acquaintance, Vane
duhlIcu lIcHuid SicdtIJ anu soihO'ihtS
half believed himself in love with her, and
whether he was really so or not, he had
been accustomed for years to call himself
her worshiper On the other hand though
he liked Mary Suland very warmly, and
would have done anything in his power to
give her pleasure he never told himself
that he was in love with her, nor even
thought about it.
Both the girls on their side regarded
Vane with feelings far different from those
of ordinary interest But it is characters
tic of each, that while Lcnora never forgot
that Vane was rich man, Mary Sulland
never gave the fact thought, nor would
have considered the subject of much inter
est if she had.
The two girls were now alone on the
veranda, anxious, restless and uneasy. 1t
is true that at that moment nothing alarm
ing was either to be seen or heard. No
noise of war was in the air; scarcely sound
disturbed the evening silence In the
earlier days of the siege there had been
continued assaults upon the walls, but these
had now been given up as hopeless, and
except for the dismal humming of the
human swarms among the huts and bazars
of the Sepoys around the walls, the place
was still But cover all there hung a cloud
of fear" sense of impending danger, as
of the sword hanging by a single thread;
the cruel uncertainty as to what was going
to happen, which makes the peculiar horror
of passive siege In such a situation the
ear is always listening, the nerves are ready
to start at every sound, and the mind is
kept stretched constantly upon the rack.
Vane, on entering the room, had no
knowledge that the two girls were at that
moment on the veranda, so near to his own
window. He had just been round the sta
ton, and had got together with some diff
Guilty half dozen men who could be spared
from active duty at the watch posts on the
walls, and these, as he had given orders,
were now collected about the door of the
room awaiting his arrival. Four were
English, two were Sikhs-every man of
them, as Vane knew well, to be trusted to
the death.
These men he now placed on one side of
the table, while he himself stood on the
other. Then, in few words, he explained
to them the nature of the service for which
they were required, adding that he only
wished for volunteers, and that any man
who disliked the duty might retire at once.
Not man stirred, however The Sikhs
saIuted gravely; the British soldiers, true
to the immemorial custom of their race
when called upon to face a special danger,
broke into a cheer
Vane looked round him and his eyes
glistened but he said simply:
"The man that goes out first will run by
far the greatest risk Who will undertake
that duty ?"
There were, as already stated, six men
present beside Vane himself. Six right
hands Immediately saluted-there were six
competitors for the privilege of being the
first mark of the Sepoy's cannon. Yane
smiled.
"We must draw lots, see" he said.
Opening shallow drawer in the table,
he took out of it pack of cards.
''Here are seven of us, he continued;
II am going to deal these cards all r5und.
Whichever of us receives a certain card
we will say the knave of spades-will be
the man selected.
He cut the pack. The deal began.
A hush fell on the six Spectators
hush of rising interest. Except for the
slight futtering noise made by the falling
cards not a sound was to be heard Strange
that there is something in suspense which
affects the mind more strongly than the
actual danger. These men had volunteered,
without space of hesitation, to face the
risk of death. Yet, not one of them could
now look on without a tingling of the blood,
as they waited for the card to fall which
carried mans life
Such was their absorption that they did
not see two faces which came suddenly
peeping in upon them through the window
of the room.
-. II, 4. LII -.