TOWARD KURNAL.
The evening was well advanced, when General Graves approached the
group.
"It is all over," he said with a sigh and shake of the head.
Luchman continued gazing toward Delhi. He glanced at the officer,
but said nothing. Evidently he felt little respect for the leader
who had shown such inefficiency, and therefore did not deign to
notice his remark.
Dr. Avery, now that all military rule was at an end, was tempted to
reproach the general for his blindness to the peril until it was too
late, but he checked such feeling, conscious of the cruelty of giving
it expression.
"What do you mean, general, by its being all over?"
"I doubt whether there is a living European in Delhi at this moment;
or if there is, he will not escape an hour longer."
"But what about the sepoys around you?"
"They are on the verge of revolt."
"And are we left alone?" asked Marian with a gasp of dismay.
"It amounts to that, since even if those that are left should stand
by us, they cannot resist the force that will soon attack them. They
have opened the jails and turned the convicts loose. The Mussulmans
are hunting everywhere for victims; and, friends," added the
commandant with great impressiveness, "it becomes my duty to say that
I have no longer any power to help you. Each one must look out for
himself."
These were dreadful words coming from the head of the soldiery, but
the little group had felt their truth before.
Luchman stood a minute longer in silence, and then wheeling abruptly
said:
"Sahib, let us go!"
The heart of the missionary was lead. His distrust of the native
came with overpowering force, and he was almost certain he meant to
betray them into the hands of their enemies.
Dr. Avery stepped beside the good man and whispered:
"Don't let him see that you distrust him! We will go with him; at
the first sign of treachery I will put a bullet through his skull."
Mr. Hildreth felt the wisdom of the suggestion, and acted upon it at
once. Calling his wife to him, he said:
"Follow close behind me; we must make a start. Marian will follow
the doctor. Luchman, we are ready. Under Heaven everything now
depends upon you; lead the way."
The younger man was more distrustful of Luchman than was the elder.
He had studied him closely, and he believed his sympathies were with
the wretches of the torch and knife.
Furthermore, the doctor was confirmed in his suspicion by the course
of Luchman respecting the wonderful diamond, the Star of India. When
he showed it to him near Lucknow he declared that it was a present
for Miss Hildreth, but the latter was in ignorance of such purpose,
as her lover learned from several guarded questions during his first
night in Delhi.
True, it might be that Luchman thought it best under the
circumstances to wait until they were free from the peril by which
they were environed; but, admitting such to be the case, the query
naturally presented itself as to why he had given no intimation of
his intention to the young lady.
The only answer that Dr. Avery could form was that he had changed his
mind. Such a recantation must signify a withdrawal of his loyalty to
the missionary and his family. Actuated by friendship, he had still
clung to them, in a measure, but where one wavers in such a
situation, it may be certain he will soon become the bitterest enemy.
In fact, all that Luchman was doing, and all that he had proposed to
do, the surgeon set down as part of a plan to deliver the whole party
over to the mutineers.
Yet there was a possibility of mistake, and so Avery determined to
affect a belief in him, but at the first manifestation of treachery
he would shoot the native as if he were a cobra drawn back to strike.
Where there was such panic the means of conveyance like horses and
carriages was altogether inadequate to the demand. Many of the
native servants had stolen those belonging to their masters, and none
was to be obtained elsewhere.
"Whither shall we go?" asked Dr. Avery of Luchman, when they were
fairly out of the tower and on the road.
"To Kurnal," was the answer.
"Where is that?" asked the young man, and the missionary took upon
himself to answer.
"It is a small town lying directly north, and distant some sixty or
seventy miles."
"Why is it safer to go that way than the other?"
"For manifest reasons; we are nearly a thousand miles from Calcutta,
the most accessible large city where we would be safe, and between us
and that point is the hot bed of revolt. It is death for us to
venture to the east or south; the true course is to the north, away
from the centers of the mutiny."
"Do we approach Meerut?"
"No, sahib; we go to the left, and are likely to escape if we succeed
in reaching Kurnal."
If Luchman really intended to do his best to conduct the fugitives to
that point it was good evidence that he still meant them well.
Musketry firing was heard all around them, and the fugitives were
kept in continual fear that some of the guns were aimed at them. It
was unsafe to approach the bridge over the Jumna River, and Luchman
made a circuit, which brought him to the stream fully a quarter of a
mile to the south--a fortunate movement, as it took them pretty well
out of the way of the swarming rabble and fugitives.
The river was quite low, so that little difficulty would have been
met in fording (the men carrying the ladies), but Luchman was lucky
enough to come upon a small boat, by means of which he took all over
dry shod.
Being now fairly outside the city and with the Jumna rolling between
it and them, our friends felt there was hope of escaping the fate of
so many of their countrymen. The road leading to Meerut and to
Kurnal was crowded with wretched fugitives, and the distant reports
of guns and the shouts of the sepoys showed that plunder and massacre
were going on in every direction. Many of the sepoys and the
marauding Ghoojurs were at work on the highway as well as in the city.
Luchman explained his plan: he meant to bear off to the left, taking
less frequented roads and paths, journeying mostly by night and
hiding by day. He knew the country well--an advantage whose
importance was beyond estimate, and he did not hesitate to say that
if his instructions were followed there was a fair chance of success.
Appreciating the value of every hour, they pushed on while the
darkness lasted. In the confusion and gloom there was little to be
feared, for they were not likely to be taken for foreigners. Without
interruption they reached a point some three miles from the Jumna,
where Luchman made another turn to the left, effecting quite a
detour, which led them into a path used by pedestrians and horsemen,
but without traces of carts or carriages.
No persons were seen, and no doubt Luchman's move was a wise one.
There was cultivated land at intervals, and then they passed through
dense groves very tempting in the way of hiding places, for they were
in continual dread of meeting enemies.
Impelled by their alarm, they pushed forward after daylight, until
the increasing heat compelled them to stop. Then, pretty well worn
out, they halted near a small stream, where the dense wood hid them
from view of any passers by. No one cared about food, though their
strength had been taxed to the utmost. The men took turns in
watching and sleeping, so that when the sun was low in the sky they
were in fair form to continue their flight.
Luchman was walking a short distance in advance, every one silent and
alert, when the guide, whose action was much like that of an American
Indian, stood motionless a moment, then stepped softly forward,
craned his neck and lifted his hand, as a signal for those behind him
to stand still.
They instantly obeyed, wondering what it all meant, when Luchman
suddenly whirled aid ran toward them.
"The Ghoojurs! The Ghoojurs!" he exclaimed; "make ready for a fight!"