Lieutenant Johnson had said that in all probability Ali had been killed,
this being of course his surmise, for he had no real reason for such an
assertion. He was quite right, though, about having been tricked, for
one of Rajah Gantang's cleverest spies after hearing from his
hiding-place the plans that had been made, assumed the part of Ali in
disguise, and passed unchallenged by the sentries to go straight to the
rajah and plan with him a way to divide the forces by sending the
steamer upon a false scent.
This had been done, with the success that has been seen. But though the
little garrison was awakened to a sense of its danger, very soon after
the steamer had taken its departure, it did not realise the fact that
they had all been deceived.
All the requisite precautions had been taken, and saving the guard, the
little garrison had lain down to sleep, according to Captain Smithers'
instructions, for he had addressed them before they were dismissed.
"There may be no danger," he had said, "but we must be on the alert, so
let every man lie down in his clothes, with his arms close at hand.
Sergeant Lund, see that the men's pouches are supplied with cartridges.
To-morrow, my lads, I hope to see the steamer back, with our rescued
friends!"
The men gave a cheer and departed. The guard was relieved, and Captain
Smithers stood talking to Tom Long.
"My dear lad," said the former, "there is not the slightest need for any
such proceeding. Go and lie down. I shall visit the sentries for the
first half of the night, and I will call you about three."
"I don't feel much disposed for sleep," said Tom Long, who looked
uneasy.
"You are not well. The heat has overdone you a little. You go and have
a good sleep," said the captain. "To-morrow I hope we shall have the
doctor back among us to set us right."
"I hope so, too," said Tom Long, gloomily; and going to his quarters he
lay down, with his sword and revolver beside him, ready for use.
Adam Gray was off duty, and he, too, had gone to lie down. But he could
not sleep, neither did he wish to do anything else but lie there and
think about Rachel Linton, and how pale and unhappy she appeared. He
longed to speak words of comfort to her, and to say others as well; but
he dared not, for his position forbade it. Still he could not help
feeling that she did not look unkindly upon him, nor seem to consider
him to be one of the ordinary soldiers.
He sighed as he thought of other days, and then lay listening to the
humming noise made by the mosquitoes--wondered whether Rachel Linton was
asleep or awake--whether, if she was awake, she was thinking of him.
Then he drove away the thoughts with an angry exclamation, and
determined to think about her no more. But as he turned his face to the
open window, and listened to the faint hum of the night insects, Rachel
Linton's face came back, and he was thinking of her again, and this time
in connection with Captain Smithers.
He knew the captain loved her, and instinctively hated him--Private
Gray. He felt, too, that by some means or another the captain knew of,
and hated him for, his presumptuous love; the more so that Rachel Linton
did not seem to care in the slightest degree for the captain's advances,
but rather avoided him.
Private Gray turned again and again, but he could not lie there any
longer for the uneasy feeling that tormented him.
The men in the long room slept easily enough, but he could not, and he
told himself that he might just as well get up and go and watch with one
of the sentries, for then he would be doing something towards protecting
the station.
He rose then softly, and fastening on his belt with the bayonet
attached, he went cautiously out into the night air, to see that though
the stars twinkled brightly, the night was very dark. All was perfectly
still, and as he went cautiously round, every man seemed to be on the
watch, when suddenly a thought struck him which sent a cold shiver
through his breast.
He was standing just beneath the window of the officers' quarters, where
he knew that Rachel Linton and her cousin would be sleeping, and the
sentry nearest, the man who should be on the keenest watch, was, if he
was not mistaken, Private Sim.
He could not make out for certain from where he stood, but he felt
almost certain that this was the case, and that Sim was occupying the
most important outpost of the little fort.
With his heart beating wildly he crept back to the place where the men
lay asleep, and going on tiptoe from one to the other, he satisfied
himself by the dim light of the lamp swinging from the roof that Private
Sim was not there.
"It was utter madness," he muttered to himself. "Lund should have
known," and in his excitement he recalled to mind the night when he had
found him asleep.
He remembered, too, what a fearful night that was, and he felt that this
might prove to be just as dangerous, as he hurried back, catching up his
rifle and pouch as he went, and then going quietly along to where
Private Sim was stationed.
It was undoubtedly the weakest spot about the fort, and in place of one
untrustworthy man, two of the most trusty should have been stationed
there. By some error of judgment, however, this was not done, and
Private Sim held the lives of all in the little fort within his hand.
Gray thought that after all he might be misjudging him, and therefore he
went on cautiously, listening as he stopped from time to time, and
expecting to be challenged; but there was no sound to be heard, and as
Gray went closer it seemed to him as if no sentry had been placed there.
But as he went nearer there was no error of judgment upon his part. It
was as he suspected. Private Sim was seated on the ground, his rifle
across his lap, fast asleep, and quite oblivious of the fact that his
messmate stood close beside him, panting with rage and disgust.
"You scoundrel!" he cried in a low, passionate voice. "Do you not know
that the punishment may be death for sleeping at a time like this?"
As he spoke he struck the sleeper heavily upon the head with the butt of
his rifle, and Sim started up and grappled with him, just as a dozen
Malays sprang out of the darkness, and made at the defence between them.
The struggle between the two was but brief, for Gray threw Sim off, and
brought his bayonet to bear against the Malays, forgetting in his
excitement to load and fire, so that it was Sim's rifle that gave the
alarm.
For the next few minutes the two men fought side by side, their bayonets
keeping the Malays back every time they strove to enter the place, and
driving them off successfully till help came, and two or three volleys
did the rest.
"How was this? How did it happen that you did not see the enemy
approaching sooner, Private Sim?" said Captain Smithers, sternly.
Sim trembled for his life, knowing as he did that over matters of
discipline the captain was a stern man, and that he must expect no mercy
for his fault if Gray spoke out, and told all he knew; so he exclaimed
hastily, and with a malicious look at Gray,--
"How could I, sir, when there are traitors in the camp?"
"Traitors! What do you mean?"
"I mean a traitor, sir! Private Gray there came up behind me, leaped
upon me, and held his hand over my mouth to keep me still, while he
whistled to the Malays to come in by the opening, there."
"You lying--"
"Silence, Private Gray!" cried Captain Smithers, and all that was evil
in his nature came to the surface, as he felt that here was an
opportunity for disgracing, if not putting his rival to death; and a
strange feeling of savage joy animated him for the moment. "Silence,
Private Gray!" he cried. "Speak out, Private Sim. Do you mean to
assert that this man served you as you say?"
"Look at me, sir!" cried Sim, showing his disordered uniform. "That was
done in the struggle; and I did not fire as soon as I could have
wished."
"Show me your rifle, Sim," said the captain.
Sim held out his piece, while, choking with rage and astonishment, Gray
stood speechless in their midst.
The piece was examined, and it had just been discharged.
"Show me your piece, Gray," said Captain Smithers.
Gray held it out, and it was quite clean. It was not loaded, and it had
not lately been discharged.
"I tried as hard as I could, captain!" whined Sim; "but he came upon me
so sudden like, that I was mastered at once."
"What were you doing there, Gray? You were not on duty. Your place was
in bed."
"I could not sleep, sir," said Gray. "I doubted this man, and I came to
see."
"Why, you jumped right on me, sudden like, out of the darkness!" said
Sim.
"Silence, Sim!" said the Captain. "Gray, this charge must be
investigated. You are under arrest. Sergeant, put this man in irons!"
"But, Captain--"
"Silence, sir! You can make your defence when you are tried by
court-martial."
"I hope, captain," whined Sim, "that it won't be my doing as he's
punished. I'd a deal rather help a fellow than get him into trouble."
"You are on duty, sir! Attend to your post!" cried Captain Smithers.
He turned angrily then on Private Gray, who was so cruelly mortified,
especially as, glancing upward, he saw the window was open, and Rachel
Linton and her cousin there, that he could not or would not speak a word
in his defence. He gave Sim a look that made that scoundrel shiver, and
then said to himself:
"She will not believe that I am a traitor!"
He glanced involuntarily upwards as this thought occurred to him, and
the captain ground his teeth with rage as he saw the glance; but feeling
as he did that he had his rival beneath his heel, a glow of triumph ran
through him.
The next moment, though, all that was gentlemanly and true came to the
surface, and he felt that Private Gray was not the man who could be
guilty of such a crime. Sim must be the offending party, and Gray be
too proud to speak. He could not iron him, or doubt his honour; he was
too true a man; and as Sergeant Lund unwillingly came forward with a
file of men, the captain motioned him back.
"This is no time for making prisoners," he said. "Sergeant, change the
sentry here. Place two men on guard. Private Sim, go to the
guard-room: I may want to question you. Private Gray, this is an awful
charge against you, and if you are guilty you will be shot."
There was a faint sound as of some one's breath catching at the window
above, but it was heard by Captain Smithers and Private Gray alone as
they stood face to face.
"I know it, captain!" said Gray, quietly.
"We are in face of the enemy," continued Captain Smithers. "Take your
rifle again, and help to defend the place. You had better die by the
spear of a Malay. Go to the guard-room now; and mind, if any words pass
between you and Private Sim--"
"Quick, sir, the alarm!" cried Gray, pointing out beneath the stars.
"The enemy!"
"Fire, sentry!" cried Captain Smithers; and the report of a rifle rang
out on the still night air, for the Malays were advancing in force.
Fresh shots were fired on all sides as the men turned out, and were at
their various places in a very few moments, the wisdom of the captain's
commands being manifest; and as he saw Private Gray go down on one knee
and begin firing, with careful aim, at the advancing enemy,--"He's no
traitor," he muttered; "and I never doubted him at heart."
He had no time for further thought, for the attack had become general,
and the Malays seemed furious, striving hard to gain an entry, but
always encountering one or two bayonets at every point, till, after half
an hour's fierce struggle, they drew back, leaving a number of dead and
wounded around the place.
The defenders of the little fort drew breath at this, and as the firing
ceased, the major's wife, with Rachel Linton and her cousin, came round,
first with refreshments for the exhausted men, and, as soon as they were
distributed, began to bandage those who were wounded.
It was while they were busy over this task, that in the darkness Rachel
Linton came upon a man leaning against the breast-work, gazing
attentively out at the position of the enemy.
"Are you wounded?" she asked; and at her words Private Gray started
round and faced her.
"Only slightly," he said, "in body--but deeply in spirit."
"Let me bind your wound," said Rachel Linton, hoarsely, and her voice
trembled as she spoke.
"Which?" he said bitterly, as they stood alone.
"Let me bind your arm," she said quietly now, as she drew a long breath.
"It is but a scratch," he said carelessly, "a spear thrust."
Without another word Rachel Linton slit open the sleeve of the jacket he
wore, and deftly bandaged the double wound, for the thrust had gone
right through Gray's arm. Then rising, she stood before him for a
moment or two.
"You asked which wound would I bind up, Adam Gray," she said sadly. "I
have bound up one. If my words will help to bind up the other, let me
tell you that I do not believe the foul charge made against you."
The rifle fell against Gray's wounded arm as he caught the speaker's
hand in his, and raised it to his lips.
"You have done more," he said; "you have healed it."
For the next few moments he stood there as if holding the hand in his,
though Rachel Linton had hurried away. Then he started, for he became
aware that Tom Long had seen what had taken place, and was now standing
leaning on his sword. But he did not speak, he only turned away,
leaving Gray watching, and thinking hopefully now of the charge he had
to meet.
"Smithers is a gentleman," he said to himself; "they cannot shoot me for
what I have not done."
Then he began to wonder how the steamer had sped, and how soon they
would bring back their friends. This was the more important, as he felt
sure that a few such determined efforts on the Malay's part, and the
little garrison must succumb.
"He is a brave young fellow, that Ali," he thought, "and has managed
well."
Then he stood gazing out over the dark ground in front, where here and
there he could make out the dimly seen form of some unfortunate
combatant, who had not been carried off by his friends.
It was darker now than ever, and he was silently watching for danger,
when a faint rustling noise caught his ear, and he brought his piece
down to the present, for undoubtedly one of the bodies lying on the dark
earth was in motion, and crawling slowly towards where he stood.