Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1899-09-14
CHAPTER WV.

CHAPTER XIV.
Nine o'clock sounded from every
clock in Brnarr>. and the entire city
was illuminltetl-every street. every
house was DESTROYS to add it's share to
the splpn,Ior and rlat of the maGnl1l-
cent fete given by Lord Singleton.
The superb garden of the palace OF
the Presidency presented to the eye
glimpse Of fairyland. Colored lights lit
I'D the foliage. and luminous garlands
Of flowers wound, one above the other,
upon all the trees. Fantastic glimmcr-
ings were reflected in the mimic lakes;
and in the midst of all uprose the pal
ace of white marble, with it's hundred
blazing windows.
10 fifty complete the picture. upon
the emerald moss of the lawns, and be-
neatl. the wide-spreading branches. had
gathered Il crowd. in whose waves i'll
termingled the red uniforms of the
English officers and the sumptuous
costumes of the rajahS and the Hindoo
women of exalted. rank.
The pure atmosphere of the mild,
clear night led Lord Singleton's guests
to choose the outer air and heavens
starry vault, rather than the heated
temperature within.
Two orchestras, hidden from view at
either end of the garden, filled the air
with a flood OF melody. lnnumelable
liveried servants moved incessantly
among the guests. bearing silver wait
ers laden with all imaginable dellca-
cies.
Not far from the foot Of the grand
staircase. garnished with flowers and
leading from the palace to the garden,
was stationed little group exclusive
ly English composed Of three or four
young ladies and as many officers i'll
the service of the company.
One Of these latter, young fellow OF
perhaps twenty-six years. held his au-
ditors almost speLl-bound by some Won
derful recitals.
''Indeed, 1 have exaggerated moth
ing" he was saying. "The dangers
which threaten us here are not only
immense, but increasing. Our lives
would be in infinitely less peril exposed
to the fire of battle. Battle! At least
one I'll ere sees face to face the enemy
with whom lie has to deal. Here the
enemy is everywhere, but Invisible. 1t
is war. but the war of assassination.
Every night we lose men; every morn
ing someone fails to answer to MS
name ut roll call. and someone finds the
sentinel dead at his post-strangled by
the terrible lasso. or bearing full in his
breast the triangular wound OF the In
dian dagger. And throughout the ex-
panse of India the rising sun OF each
new day looks down upon those foully
murdered, stretched upon the soil, red
with the victims blood!'
A shudder ran through the little
group.
But when these murderers attack
they are seen?" asked one Of the young
girls.
.'Never. 1t is only in the darkness
they accomplish their Internal Work /,
and with the suns first rays they VAN
fish, like the shadows of the night En-
tirely naked, their bodies oiled, their
heads shaven. to Offer no hold to the
death-clutch of the sufferers, they
creep out from their lairs at nightfall;
they. leap like tigers, and fly ut the
least alarm. Only once, by stratagem,
we succeeded in overcoming the dew
lis"
.'And the ruse-what was ity' all
asked in chorus.
sit was this continued Lieut.. Mid
ley. every night, on the edge OF lit
tie wood near BenareS, we lost several
sentinels. One of our officers conceived
the idea Of unfforming some lay figures,
placing them at the perilous posts,
while we, our heads concealed by the
large lotus leaves, our pistols between
our teeth, kept watch. Three hours
passed-three interminable hours, in
our constrained and uncomfortable po-
sitions. The night was profoundly
. calm. The day drew near. We feared
our ruse was vain, when suddenly, a
breath. like the Kissing Of serpent,
made us shudder, and crowd Of, dew
lis. who appeared to have sprung from
the bowels Of the earth, threw them
4 selves upon the false sentinels. "A
shower Of bullets met them. Six fell
dead. The seventh made q desperate
resistance, even with a broken leg, but
we succeeded in capturing him, though
not before lie had severely wounded
two Of our men. We bIought him alive
to Benares. hoping tssWreiich from him
some revelations; but these peoples
fanaticism is virtue, is even heroic.
J Neither threat Of death or hope Of par
J don could extort from him one single
word. Sir John Malcolm himself couIo
do nothing. The Hind0o remained ST.
lent; he refused all nourishMent; he
tore the bandages from his wounded