I felt that if whoever it was would only have left me alone, I would not
have cared; but to be bothered like that, when I was so sleepy, and when
I had been so hard at work all day, and done my rounds at night, was too
bad.
Yes; I knew it was after sunrise, and that in an ordinary way I ought to
have jumped up, but the sleepy, stupid feeling was too much for me, and
I only lay there and grumbled.
"Don't!" I remember crying, "you hurt me;" but whoever it was kept on
all the same, doing something to my head, and then he began dragging my
arm about, and then I went off fast asleep.
I remembered all that when I opened my eyes again. It was my first
thought, and I lay wondering in a puzzled sort of way whether it was
Haynes, for he was the only one likely to play any trick with me, and
unlikely enough too. Brace was too stern, thoughtful, and serious, so I
thought it could not have been he.
"Hullo!" I exclaimed. No: it could hardly be called an exclamation,
for it was said in a very low tone of voice, as I stared about me, and
grew confused. For I felt that I ought to be lying in one of the
shattered rooms of the residency. No: we had left the residency, and I
ought to be lying under a tree in the tope.
It was very puzzling, and I could not make it out at all. In fact, the
more I tried, the more perplexing it grew, and while I was trying to get
my head to think properly, everything grew dull and misty, and I went
off to sleep once more.
But the next time I awoke and ran over my position, I found that I was
able to think well, and I did, though the puzzle was great still, why it
was that I was lying on cushions with handsome purdahs or curtains hung
about the sides of what was evidently a tent, with handsome Indian
carpets spread on the floor, and a punkah over my head, waving gently to
and fro to cool the air.
As I was trying to pierce the cloud that closed me in, I at last got a
gleam of light through it as if the cloud had opened a little, and I
recollected distinctly standing by my two guns in the glaring hot
street. Yes; I could recollect that clearly, but no more. Then came a
period of confusion, but that passed off, and I remembered our trot and
then gallop out of the town, down the long road, and out into the
country-like plain, where we took up position, and brought the guns into
action.
After a time I recalled the whole of the particulars of the engagement
right on to our halt beside the tope, within whose shades the waggons,
elephants, and wounded men were placed. And now a feeling of trouble
and worry came over me, for I recollected that I had been so busy that I
had not been to see Serjeant Craig.
It looked hard, for he had done so much for us, but I hoped that Brace
had been to him, and that he would not think it unkind of me, knowing as
he would that I had been heavily on duty. But, all the same, it was
hard for the poor fellow lying wounded.
I paused there, and then repeated the words in a strange, puzzled
way--"Poor fellow lying wounded--poor fellow lying wounded."
And then, with the intention of sitting up, I moved my arm.
No; I only tried to move it, and felt a horrible twinge of pain. Then I
tried to raise my head, but it felt like so much lead, and the effort
made me feel sick.
But my mind was active now, and as I said in a whisper, "Why, I must be
wounded," the scene of our last gallop came back to my mind with vivid
force, and I saw it all, and even, as it were, felt the sensation of the
mad gallop, and the shock of our collision with the sowars, even to the
curious sensation of galloping along with our men firing at us, and then
awakening to the fact that I had fierce-looking troopers on either side,
and then of one cutting at me, and another interposing to save my life.
Yes; I could recollect that clearly, and I recalled, too, the poor
fellow falling headlong from his horse.
Was that I?
It seemed as if it must have been; but in a confused way I argued that,
if it had, I could not have sat on horseback and seen him fall.
I was still puzzling about it with a _feeling_ upon me that my brain
would not work properly, when a purdah was thrust on one side, and a
tall, grave, grey-bearded man in white and gold came slowly in. His
voluminous turban was of white muslin, and his long snowy garment
descended almost to his feet.
I felt, as he gravely fixed his eyes upon me, and advanced to where I
lay, that this must be a kind of dream, and that possibly the sun had
beat so hotly upon my helmet that it had had some effect upon my brain.
Consequently, all I had to do was to be still, and then all would come
clear.
But the dream became to me wonderfully real as the tall grave Mussulman
went down on one knee and laid his hand upon my head, the touch feeling
cool and pleasant, while, as he saw my eyes fixed upon his inquiringly,
he said in very good English--
"The young sahib is better?"
"Better?" I replied in a curiously faint voice--"better? Have I been
ill?"
"Don't try to talk. Not ill, sahib--wounded."
"Oh!" I ejaculated. "Then I was hurt in that charge. Where is Captain
Brace?"
"Don't talk; you are weak. Let me look at your wound."
As he spoke he laid his hand upon my left arm, but changed his mind, and
his hands were busy about my head, which I found now was confined by a
bandage.
This being removed, he gave me a little pain by touching one spot just
above my temple, which was extremely tender, and then, taking out a pair
of scissors, he snipped away a little hair closely; after this he drew a
piece of fine white cloth from his pocket, he poured some brown strongly
scented fluid from a little flask to moisten it, and laid the little wet
patch on my head, with the result that it tingled sharply.
"Hurt?" he said quietly.
"Yes; a little."
"It will soon go off."
As he spoke he very carefully bound the linen bandage he had removed
back in its place.
"Is it a sword-cut?" I asked.
"No, sahib; a bullet struck your helmet, and made a bad place within.
It is not very serious, and if you are quiet, it will soon be well."
"But where is Dr Danby? Why does he not come?" I asked; then, in a
startled way, "He is not killed?"
The grey-bearded old fellow merely shook his head and repeated his
injunction that I should not talk, and now began examining my left arm,
which was firmly bandaged, and began to pain me severely at his touch.
"Is that a bullet wound?" I said in a whisper, for I felt that I must
resign myself to my position, and, after the first shock, I began to
feel rather proud that I had been wounded, for I felt not the slightest
inclination to stir.
"No," he said, as he removed bandage after bandage, "a cut from a tulwar
just below the shoulder. You will be brave, and bear what I do without
being faint? Yes," he added, with a grave smile, "you English sahibs
are brave. Hurt?"
"Hurt? Yes," I said, with a wince. "Is it a big cut?"
"Yes," he said softly; "a big cut--a bad cut, but it is beautiful, and
will soon grow up again."
"Are you going to put any of that smarting stuff on?" I asked.
"Oh no. It wants nothing but to be left to grow well with bandages
round it. These fresh bandages. Young healthy flesh soon heals."
"Are you a surgeon?" I asked.
"Yes; and learned to be one in London," he continued, with a smile.
"But now you must be still and not talk."
I was not sorry to be forbidden to speak, for it was an effort, and I
lay watching him, feeling very sick and faint, while he dressed my
wound; and then I felt nothing till I found myself staring at the grave
face of the eastern surgeon, as he lightly passed a moistened finger
beneath my nostrils, and then touched the neck of a bottle which he
turned upside down, and proceeded to moisten my temples, while a
peculiar cool pungent odour filled the tent.
"Better?" he said.
"Yes," I said dreamily; and then as I realised what had passed--"Did I
faint?"
He bowed gravely.
"It was natural, sahib. I hurt you very greatly; but the wound looks
well. Ah, your colour is coming back to your lips."
"Thank you," I said feebly. "I am sorry I was so cowardly. Now ask
Captain Brace to come."
He shook his head.
"Well, then, Mr Haynes."
He shook his head again.
"They are far away," he said.
"Then what place is this? a hospital?"
He shook his head again.
"I am only the doctor," he said, with a smile. "My duty is to dress
your wounds, and it is done."
"But tell me this--the fight yesterday?"
"I cannot," he replied. "There was no fight yesterday."
"Nonsense! There was; and I remember now coming off my horse. I
thought it was some one else; but I recall it now."
"The sahib talks too much," said the grave, patient-looking doctor.
"I will hold my tongue directly," I cried; "but tell me this--were you
at the fight?"
"Oh no; I was far away, and the rajah summoned me here to attend on
you."
"Rajah? What rajah?"
"His highness, my master."
"What!" I cried excitedly. "Then I am a prisoner?"
"Yes, sahib. You were cut down in the battle a week ago."
A low expiration of the breath, which sounded like a sigh, was the only
sound I uttered as I lay back, weak, faint, utterly astounded by the
news. A prisoner--cut down a week ago. Then the troop; where was the
troop? If I was made a prisoner, had the guns been taken?
A cold chill of despair ran through me as those crushing thoughts
occurred, and in imagination I saw our men surrounded and slaughtered,
perhaps mutilated, the guns taken, and the fight of that day a
tremendous victory for the enemy.
But after a time a better way of thinking came over me when I was alone;
for, after a grave smile, the doctor had bowed and left the tent.
It was a daring, desperate charge I felt, but the only thing Brace could
do under the circumstances; and he must have cut his way through. He
could not turn and retreat, for it would have looked like being afraid
of the sowars; and surely, I thought, it was not in them to overcome our
brave little troop even if they were ten times the number.
Then, as I lay there, confused and troubled, a fresh thought struck me--
the firing? Yes, of course there was sharp firing; and I remembered now
pretty clearly I was galloping away with troopers on each side. I must
have been separated from my men in the desperate shock, and borne off by
the foe as they retreated. Yes, of course, I thought, with growing
excitement; they must have been retreating; and it was the colonel's
regiment that was firing upon us as we fled.
With these thoughts hope came back, and I could think no more, but
dropped off into a deep sleep that was greatly like a swoon.
My next recollection is of lying in that heated tent, feverish and
thirsty, and the tall, grey-bearded doctor coming in to busy himself
about me, and at every touch of his hand seeming to give me ease.
Then I slept again, and slept--ah, how I must have slept, and dreamed of
Brace being safe, and coming sooner or later to rescue me from that
silent tent where I saw no one but the doctor and a couple of Hindu
servants, who never answered any questions, only salaamed and left the
tent if I spoke!
Neither could I get any information from the doctor. All I knew grew
from my own calculations, and these taught me that I was the prisoner of
some great chief who seemed to be reserving me to exchange for some
other prisoner, perhaps to act as a hostage in case he should happen to
be captured. I could come to no other conclusion; for so far the custom
had been for the revolted people to murder and mutilate every one who
fell into their hands.
I was lying there one afternoon, wondering where the tent could be, and
why it was that everything was so silent about me. It was puzzling now
that I was not quite so weak and feverish; for this could hardly be a
camp in which I was a prisoner. If it had been, I should have heard the
trampling of horses and the coming and going of armed men. Then I
seldom heard voices, save those of the servants who came to attend upon
me by the doctor's orders. But I knew one thing--the tent in which I
was sheltered had been pitched under a great tree; for at certain times,
when the sun was low, I saw the shadows of leaves and boughs upon the
canvas; and when the wind blew sometimes at night, I had heard the
rushing sound through the branches.
Feeling a little better as I did that afternoon, I had quite made up my
mind to attack the doctor when he came, as I knew he would later on, and
try hard to get some particulars about where we were, and what had
happened after the fight; for it seemed strange and I shrank at times
from the thought that Brace and the colonel had not followed up their
success. But had it been a success?
The question was terrible; for their long silence suggested that it
might equally have been a failure; and this was the more likely from the
odds they had to engage.
I lay there very patiently, for I was not in much pain now; but that
afternoon the doctor did not come, and my patience was rapidly fading
away; for it was growing late, and it appeared hard, now that I had come
to such a determination, for my attendant to stay away. That he must
come from a distance, I knew; and more than once I had detected little
things which showed me that he had been attending wounded men--a fact
which of course told me that there was trouble going on somewhere near
at hand.
Perhaps there was trouble that day, I thought, and he was detained in
consequence.
This thought made me listen intently for the sound of guns; but all was
still, and my impatience began to get the mastery, and the feeling that
I had taken up the wrong idea to make itself clear; for there could be
no serious fighting such as would keep the doctor away, or else I must
have heard the firing.
Still the doctor did not come, and in consequence I began to think that
my wound was hot and fretful; and this brought up the fight on that
eventful day about which I had lost count, save that it must be going on
for three weeks since it occurred; and all that time I had been lying
there, a miserable, wounded prisoner. So I was proceeding to silently
bemoan my fate, when my common sense stepped in to point out that the
enemy who had captured me evidently respected the British, and that no
one could have been better treated than I.
But I wanted news. I was burning to hear what had taken place since I
had been cut down; whether the fire of revolt had been checked, but was
still holding its own, or spreading--and I knew nothing.
"But I will know," I said, as my ear, grown quick by constant listening,
detected distant sounds, followed by a hurried rustling, as of people
leaving the adjoining tent.
"They heard the doctor coming," I said to myself. "I'll make him speak
somehow; and, by the way, I've never asked him where they have put my
uniform and sword."
I strained my ears and listened, for the sound was drawing nearer, and a
feeling of disappointment stole over me as I made out that it was the
trampling of horses; and I had never heard that when the doctor came
before. I had always believed that he came in a palanquin; while these
certainly were horses' feet--yes, and the jingling of accoutrements.
"Why, it must be our troop," I thought, but crushed the delightful
thought on the instant, for there was none of the peculiar rattle made
by the guns and limbers. Could it be a body of sowars? If softly
thoughts went back to the wild gallop I had had in their company, and
one hand stole to my wounded arm, which was there as a reminder of what
I might expect from them.
No wonder my heart beat fast as recollections of their merciless
treatment of their officers came flooding my brain, and I felt that if
they behaved like this to their officers, whom they had sworn to obey,
there would be scant mercy for a prisoner.
The trampling and jingling came nearer, and there was the familiar
snorting of horses, while I was now experienced enough to be able to say
that there was a body of forty or fifty mounted men approaching nearer,
nearer, till a loud order rang out, such as would be given by a native
cavalry officer; a sudden halt; a fresh order, and then one for the men
to dismount, and I was listening for the next ordering the men to draw
swords, when I felt with beating heart that it need not come, for the
men would be lancers. "I'll try and meet it like a man," I said to
myself, "for father's sake, and that of my mother and sister;" but I
could not feel brave, and my eyes were fixed upon the purdah which
screened the entrance to the tent, and, in spite of my weakness, I
struggled up on one arm looking wildly round for a weapon that I could
not have used.
Then there was a quick footstep. The doctor's? No; that of an armed
man. The purdah was swept aside, and a gorgeously dressed chief, robed
in white muslin and shawls of the most delicate fabric, and richly
ornamented with gold, strode into the tent. His white turban glittered
with pearls and diamonds, while his breast and sword-belt and slings
were also encrusted with the same rich gems, so that at every movement
some cluster of precious stones scintillated in the subdued light.