At the appointed time the men fell in, rested a little, no doubt, but
not one had slept, and after a few words respecting the importance of
silence, Brace placed himself at their head, whispered to me to come to
his side, and the word was given--_March_!
It was a strange, weird tramp along the deserted road, for not a soul
was encountered; but as we drew nearer, the lights in the city were
many, and from the noise and drumming it was evident that there were
festivities in progress, possibly rejoicings among the natives at the
fall of the British rule.
But as we got on to lower ground the illuminations disappeared, and
Brace pointed out that the part in the direction of our barracks seemed
to be all dark.
But we could, of course, make out little at that distance, and as we
neared the river, Brace struck off to the right, so as to avoid the
houses as much as possible, his intention being, he said, to get round
till we were about opposite to our quarters, and then march boldly and
silently on.
"The probabilities are," he said, "that at this hour of the night we
shall not meet a soul."
About this time he called up the sergeant and questioned him, but there
was little more to be communicated. Apparently there had been very
little plundering; the party led by Ny Deen having its one important
object in view--the capture of the horses, guns, and ammunition; and
after cutting down those who resisted, and securing the rest in their
quarters, they had busied themselves over their task, and marched out in
triumph.
"But I'm expecting, sir, that when we get back we shall find that the
mob from the bazaar has been busy, and plundered and burned the whole
place; and if so--"
He stopped short.
"Well, speak up, man. What do you mean--the wounded?"
"No, sir," replied the sergeant, as I shuddered at the horrors these
words suggested; "I don't think there were any wounded left; they did
their work too well. I was thinking of the poor chargers."
"Oh!" I ejaculated, as I thought of my noble-looking Arab and its
companion, and I involuntarily quickened my pace.
"Steady, Vincent," whispered the captain; and I checked myself. "Let's
hope it is not so." Then, turning to the sergeant--"You feel sure that
the officers' horses are not gone?"
"I can't say that, sir. Only that the mutineers did not take them.
They wanted to get the gun-horses and the others; that was all they
seemed to be thinking about."
"Yes, that would be all," assented Brace.
"The mob may have carried off the poor creatures since, sir; I don't
know."
As we approached the outskirts, all was as anticipated, quite still, and
after another whisper to the men to keep as silent as possible, we
marched boldly in through the narrow lanes, threading our way for some
time without hardly seeing a soul, and those whom we encountered only
looked at us with curiosity or else fled at once.
Twice over we became confused, losing our way, but our good luck aided
us, for we recognised places which we had passed through before, and
resumed our march, getting nearer and nearer to our barracks, and now
hearing shouting, drumming, with the clash of music, but right away from
us; and at last it was left well behind to our right.
From time to time the captain halted and let the men pass by him, so as
to keep a sharp look-out, and see whether we were followed.
But that did not seem to enter into the thoughts of any of the natives
we had passed. They were apparently thinking solely of their own
safety, and at last, trembling with eagerness, we approached the gateway
that we had left so short a time before; and a painful sensation of
sorrow smote me as I recalled the genial face of the major and his words
wishing us success as he saw us off on our pleasant expedition.
"And now dead!--cruelly murdered by treachery," I said to myself; while
the painful feeling was succeeded by one of rage, accompanied by a
desire to take vengeance on the men who had cut him down.
But I had something else to think of now, for Brace halted the men and
took me to examine the gateway, where all was silent and black. There
was no armed sentry on duty, no lights in the guard-room, and a chill
struck through me, and I searched the ground with my eyes in dread lest
I should trip over the remains of some man by whose side I had ridden
during many a parade or drill.
Brace stepped forward boldly, and we passed through the gateway into the
yard when, suddenly, and as silently as if barefooted, a white figure
started up near us, and would have fled had not Brace caught it by the
arm.
"Silence!" he said in Hindustani.
"Don't kill me, master," came in a low supplicating whisper.
"Dost!" I exclaimed, for I recognised the voice.
"Yes, master," he cried, turning to me.
"What were you doing here?" said Brace, sternly.
"I came up when all was dark and the budmashes were all gone, master,"
said the man with trembling accents. "I have been to master's
quarters."
"To plunder?" said Brace, sternly.
"Master's servant is honest and never steals," said Dost, quickly.
"Master can search and see."
"I think--I'm sure he is honest," I said hastily. "Tell us, Dost. Who
is in the barracks now?"
"The dead men, master," said the Hindu solemnly. "There is no one
living there. Yes," he added quickly, "I did hear sounds, but I could
find nobody. And the mem sahib is gone."
"Where did you hear the sounds?" I asked.
"By the stables, my lord. If the budmashes had not taken away all the
horses I should have thought the horses were there still."
"And they are," I whispered to Brace.
"Be cautious," he whispered back. "We must not trust this man. Dost,
tell me; the major--where is he?"