THE ONE WHO WAS TAKEN.
"Have you cleared out a tent for the Rani, Bob? I was going to ask you
to do it, but when I looked for you, you had disappeared."
"Yes, she and her women are safely secluded. But what I really made
myself scarce for was to secure the guns."
"Old boy, you are a genius! They won't dare to try and stop us now."
"Us? That sounds good. I hoped you would see the folly of ramming
your head into the lion's mouth by going back to Agpur with Sher Singh."
"He's uncommon anxious that I should--been trying to persuade me all
this time. First he followed me himself, and then he sent the fakir,
and then Ibrahim Khan."
"I'm not surprised. You would be a particularly welcome guest at Agpur
just now, but whether the visit would be quite as agreeable to you as
to your entertainers, I take leave to doubt. Have you forgot that you
know the secret of the treasury, and Sher Singh don't?"
"I had forgotten. As a matter of fact, I have promised to go back as
soon as I have seen the Rani to Ranjitgarh."
"I believe you, my boy! But I wonder whether Sher Singh does. By the
way, what becomes of our oaths, and the treasure, now that Kharrak
Singh, whom it was intended to benefit, is no more?"
"I really don't know. The question did not arise."
"Well, my base material mind would have asked it first thing. Can
hardly go to the Rani, I suppose, can it? or be divided between two
deserving young officers in the Company's army? Perhaps in time to
come Sher Singh may leave a descendant to whom we can honourably
confide the secret. But meanwhile, Sher Singh has his accomplices to
pay, and the treasure would come in very handy. I suppose you ain't
labouring under any romantic delusion as to his innocence?"
"It would be hopeless, I fear. If he had merely planned the murder
from here, he would certainly have accorded me the interview I asked
for, so as to secure an unassailable alibi. But I can't help seeing
that unless one of the accomplices confesses, which is highly unlikely,
it will be next to impossible to bring it home to him. Poor little
Kharrak Singh! I give you my word, Bob, I really was most uncommon
fond of that little chap. He used to sit opposite me like little
Dombey--I showed him the picture when last mail came in, and he laughed
like anything--and say the most old-fashioned things. I'm glad Antony
ain't likely to send me back to Agpur. I should be thinking that I saw
him all about the place."
"I'm jolly glad you don't feel yourself pledged to return."
"Sort of nineteenth-century Regulus? Well, that'll depend upon my
orders, of course, and I don't take 'em from Sher Singh. Not that we
have had any rupture. I told him quite politely that I could hold no
further communication with him until the Rani was safe at Ranjitgarh,
and that we start to-morrow morning."
"Quite so. Hal, a minute or two ago you paid me a very handsome
compliment. Hang compliments! says I, and show a little confidence.
Will you take my advice, and while making elaborate, even ostentatious,
preparations for starting to-morrow morning, set off tonight instead?"
"My dear fellow, have you gone quite mad?"
"There's a prodigious deal of method in my madness. Say that Sher
Singh, in confab with his friends, or his own uneasy conscience, begins
to perceive the extreme improbability of your returning quietly into
the lion's mouth once you are safely out of it. Do you think he won't
harden his heart like Pharaoh, and refuse to let you go?"
"It's possible, of course. But I fail to see how you would conduct a
moonlight flitting from the heart of his camp."
"That's my artfulness, my dear Hal. We can't hope to slip away
unnoticed, I grant you. But I do believe we can take 'em by surprise,
and walk out before they can combine to stop us. We have the guns, and
the hotties, which would be useful in breaking a path, and those two
facts may even induce them to let us go without a fuss. Otherwise I
should have proposed spiking the guns, which are in a state of
rottenness calculated to do more harm to us than to the enemy, and
leaving the hotties, taking the women behind us on our horses. But if
by making an awe-inspiring impression we can get away without a fight,
it's just as well under the circumstances--especially as the Rani has
promised us our fill of gore later on. I should say, start as soon as
the moon rises, in two hours or so. We can't go at once, because the
Rani's hotty and the one we have been using all day will require a
little rest, or I should have advised that."
"But Sher Singh will simply follow and attack us on the march, and he
has the big battalions."
"Now look here, Hal. You'll allow that I know something of the country
through which I came two days ago? Two marches will take us well into
Darwan, where Sher Singh don't dare follow us, or he will have the
Darwanis up round him like a hive of bees. The place where he will try
to stop us is a rough jungly bit about half-way--one of the disputed
boundary districts. We must get through it by daylight. Six hours'
forced march to-night will bring us nearly to it. We halt for another
two hours' rest, and then press on at once. Once through that bit we
are practically safe. Marching morning and afternoon we should not
reach it till evening, and during the night Sher Singh would have ample
time to lay an ambush for us. If we take him by surprise, any
thoughtful preparations on his part must be fairly sketchy in
character."
"I see your point. But no one can help knowing we are starting at once
when they see the tents being struck."
"Then leave 'em standing. You can take your clothes and your papers
and your hair-brushes, and sacrifice the rest. Oh, I know you are
still dragging about with you the chest of drawers you got for the
cabin when we came out, and the long chair you bought at Madeira----"
"Nonsense!" said Gerrard, rather vexed. "But I like my own things
about me, I confess."
"The very reason why you should be deprived of 'em! You won't know the
proper wilderness spirit till you are. What's a chair? Something to
sit on when the ground's dirty or swampy. A table? Something to eat
off or write at when there ain't a flat rock handy. Not friends--not
pieces of yourself--which is what you make of 'em. Release yourself
from this tyranny of material things--as your pater used to quote
Socrates or some other old codger as saying. We don't want tents, and
the women must do with the howdah."
"All right; have it your own way. We'll start to-night."
"Give your secret orders to that effect to Badan Hazari, then. You'll
find that my Darwanis have been already tipped the wink, and the women
too, and the fires are being kept low so as not to shed too much light
upon our movements."
"I am much honoured in placing myself at the disposal of so far-sighted
a commander," said Gerrard, a little stiffly, as he saluted. Charteris
laughed, and clapped him on the back with a friendly force no stiffness
could survive.
"Ain't we too old friends to stand on our dignity with each other, Hal?
I have taken a lot upon myself, I confess it, but you are in command
here, and I know it as well as you do. Jolly cheeky of me to offer you
advice, of course, but I couldn't see you rushing into destruction
without hinting at the fact."
"I know. It's all right, old boy. Well now, will you lead the
advance, as a favour to me?"
"Hal, you're a brick. No, I won't. You go first, with your own
Granthis, whom you have well in hand, I suppose? at any rate, they
won't fire unless you give the word. Then Rukn-ud-din, with the guns
and hotties--and incidentally the women--and then your humble servant
with the Darwanis. If they led, they would fire right and left for
pure devilry, but being in the rear, I think I can make them see the
necessity of waiting till they are attacked."
The evening meal had been hurriedly despatched during the course of
this conversation, and Gerrard now went out to summon Badan Hazari and
give him his orders, while Charteris saw to the packing of such of
their joint possessions as were not too heavy to impede a hasty flight.
The moon had barely risen when the column formed up for the march,
Gerrard and his men leading, the Agpuris, with the women, elephants,
guns and baggage in the centre, and Charteris with his Darwanis
bringing up the rear. He had taken the precaution to warn the sentries
round the tents to turn back any coolie who might try to creep out and
carry information to the main camp, while any outsider dropping in for
a little friendly conversation was to be gently but firmly detained,
and this, with the ruse of leaving the tents standing, kept Sher
Singh's men completely in the dark. There was a wild scene of
confusion when they realised what was happening, tomtoms beating,
trumpets sounding, and men rushing together, but the compact body of
matchlockmen with their matches lighted, and troopers with drawn
swords, looked so formidable that beyond firing a stray shot or two,
the army made no opposition to their progress. The Darwanis were
wildly desirous to reply to the random shots with a volley, but
Charteris succeeded in keeping them in hand, and the column ploughed
its way steadily across the sand of the river-bed, and up the bank on
the opposite side. The country was fairly open here, but Gerrard sent
out scouts in front and flanking-parties on either side, to guard
against a determined rush, which might be deadly in its result if Sher
Singh were less easily hoodwinked than he seemed. Two of the Darwanis
who knew the country well from past raids, and had guided Charteris as
he came, rode ahead to show the way, and the column tramped on doggedly
in the moonlight, the great lurching forms of the elephants casting
strange shadows by the way.
After a long day's hunting, and an evening so full of excitement,
Gerrard found it difficult not to sleep as he rode. In fact, his mind
was asleep, though his eyes were open and keenly surveying the
landmarks, which persisted in assuming the form of advancing masses of
troops, or exhibiting lights where no lights were. He found relief
occasionally in riding back a little to whip up stragglers, but it gave
him unfeigned pleasure when, after what seemed untold hours of
marching, Charteris pricked forward to tell him that they were now
within a mile of the "bad bit," and had better halt where they were
until dawn. But Gerrard had no mind to give in too soon.
"You don't think it would be well to press on and push through at one
go, Bob? The men don't seem at all done up," he felt it his duty to
say.
Charteris hesitated a moment. "No, I don't," he said. "If Sher Singh
is occupying the bad bit at all, his men are there already--sent off
probably while he kept you in talk after the big flare-up--for it would
be no good despatching them after we had started. Don't it strike you
as queer that they have made no motion to harass our rear? I imagine
they are holding back till they can catch us between two fires. If you
agree with me, let us give the beasts a rest and a feed here, and send
two or three of my beggars scouting ahead."
Gerrard consented, and they saw that the horses were picketed so as to
provide a barrier against a sudden rush, made the men lie down with
their weapons beside them, posted sentries all round the bivouac, and
agreed to keep watch for an hour each, to ensure the sentries not going
calmly to sleep. Gerrard, who felt wide-awake again now after talking
and walking about, insisted on taking the first watch, which passed
uneventfully. Then he called Charteris, and dropping into the hollow
which the latter had scooped for himself in the sand, was asleep in a
moment, only to be waked, as it seemed, in another moment, by his
friend's shaking him vigorously.
"Time to get up, Hal! No shaving-water, so don't look round in that
bewildered way. You'd arrive at Ranjitgarh with a beard--a fine,
flowing, patriarchal, even prophetic beard, like what Ronaldson has
taken to sport--if this sort of thing went on long. He paid me a visit
when he was passing through to his district, and I assure you I was
immensely taken with his new adornment. It would be perfectly killing
among the ladies, I'm sure--throw our poor whiskers and moustaches
horribly into the shade. Talk of owls! I never saw any one stare like
you. This, my young friend, is a cup of tea, and this is a hard-boiled
egg--the best _choti haziri_ our chaps can manage--and the animal
beside you, looking astonished at your laziness, is your horse,
vulgarly termed a quad. But give me your hand, old boy, and let me
haul you up to take part in this epicurean meal."
"You're in spirits to-day, Bob," observed Gerrard, with a mighty yawn,
as he accepted the tin cup.
"Ray-ther, just a few! There's a rare good fight in front of us,
Hal--or else a very fine piece of strategy, which is almost as
satisfactory when you have women to look after. Sher Singh's fellows
are in occupation of the bad bit, as I suspected--posted on both sides
of the track. But--and here comes in the possibility of
strategy--there's another path besides that one, and I told my scouts
to investigate its practicability. They report that it's passable for
hotties, which is what I was inclined to doubt, but they don't think we
shall ever get the guns up there. Here's your problem, then, my
budding Wellington. Do we fight our way through by the ordinary
track--in view of the condition of our guns I omit the alternative of
shelling the enemy out of their hiding-places first--or do we take up
position with the guns before the mouth of the defile and make a feint
there, while the hotties are going round the other way? We might even
fire the guns once or twice with reduced charges before spiking them
and leaving them there to cumber the ground, while we make ourselves
scarce and overtake the rest."
"You know which it must be before asking me," said Gerrard mournfully.
"We daren't risk taking the women through a running fight in the
defile, especially if, as you said last night, Sher Singh is hanging on
our heels as well. I'll take the guns and my Granthis and look after
the feigned attack, while you get the women through behind the enemy's
back, and are ready to support us with the Darwanis if Sher Singh turns
up."
"All right," said Charteris shortly.
"You want the fight, I know. But would you be satisfied with a feint
so long as the guns didn't burst? Not you, old boy; I know you. You
would hang on to that defile, or more probably get half-way through it,
until Sher Singh came up behind you and your retreat was cut off. You
shall do rear-guard again when we rejoin, and as that is when the real
fight will probably come, I can't do better for you."
It was still only twilight when Gerrard and his men, with the two
field-pieces drawn by bullocks, left the bivouac for the mouth of the
defile, with one of the Darwani guides to pioneer for them. Another of
these men was to remain on the hillock where the halt had been made, to
watch for any sign of pursuit from the Adamkot direction, and bring the
news instantly if any appeared. Charteris and the main body, with the
elephants, struck to the right of Gerrard's line of march to gain the
other path, and that their intention might not become apparent to the
liers-in-wait, Gerrard halted his guns as soon as he was within
possible range of the mouth of the defile, and with fear and trembling
discharged them both, by way of giving the enemy something to think
about. The guns did not burst, and though the shot fell far short, in
consequence of the reduced charges, they drew an excited matchlock fire
from the men in ambush, which did no harm, but showed their positions.
The guns moved on, and Gerrard found excellent places for them in some
rocky ground thick with thorny bushes, while his matchlockmen exchanged
long shots with the concealed enemy. The fire of the field-pieces
seemed to have an impressive moral effect, preventing any desire of
coming out into the open on the enemy's part, but was unsuccessful in
turning them out of their hiding-places, which were in the cliffs
overlooking the track. Gerrard advanced his sharp-shooters and changed
the position of the guns from time to time, but the sun was growing
hot, his men were grumbling loudly because he would not allow them to
charge the defenders, and he was glad to see that the time he had fixed
with Charteris for his withdrawal was approaching. His men were
recalled from the front two or three at a time, the remainder keeping
up a brisk fire to delude the enemy and divert their minds, and when
all were withdrawn, the two cannon were spiked, and a start made across
the rocky ground towards the right. Before they had gone far, the
scout left at the bivouac came riding in hot haste to say that he had
seen a great cloud of dust advancing from the direction of Adamkot, and
evidently concealing a large force of horsemen hastening towards the
sound of the firing. This was vexatious, as they would probably arrive
at the spiked field-pieces and divine the truth long before the ambush
in the defile would be emboldened by the silence to creep down and see
what had happened, and Gerrard hurried his men on. It was difficult to
hasten, however, over the rough ground and through the thorny bushes,
while it was inadvisable to venture out upon the plain lest they should
be seen, and the horsemen sweep down upon them. The cloud of dust was
quite visible now, whenever a break in the jungle gave a view of the
plain, and Gerrard found himself wondering whether the pursuers had a
man of Charteris's type or of his own in command of them. He could not
help hoping it might prove to be his own.
Before it seemed possible that the deserted guns could have been found,
examined, and the correct deductions drawn, the shouts of the pursuing
horsemen could be heard as they raced along the level ground of the
plain, seeking for their prey. It was impossible that they should not
discern the movements of Gerrard's men, but they could not charge
through the jungle, and when they came near enough, he halted and gave
them a volley. The sight of horses and men rolling over checked them
for a moment, but he wondered how long it would be before they thought
of pushing forward a party to intercept him in front. Almost as the
idea crossed his mind, a dropping fire broke out from among the bushes
in advance, and he realised that Charteris was waiting for him. The
horsemen drew off when they saw they were opposed by a larger body than
they expected, and Charteris emerged from a lair in the bushes and came
up to his friend.
"On with you, Hal!" he cried cheerily. "Rukn-ud-din and the hotties
are halted till you come up, for fear the enemy should be waiting for
them at the other end of the defile. I'll retreat upon you gradually,
and keep these beggars back."
"All right!" and Gerrard and his men, now on more open ground, were
able to urge their horses to something beyond a walk. The so-called
path was very rugged, and he wondered how they had been able to get the
elephants along it at all. Indeed, when he reached them, the mahouts
were complaining loudly, and making much display of the wounded feet of
their charges. The nearer sound of firing behind showed that
Charteris's force was nearly up, and Gerrard, sending back a messenger
to see whether he was hard pressed, led the main body on, disregarding
the grumblers. Charteris returned answer that he was getting along all
right, but warned Gerrard again of a possible rush when the end of the
path was reached, and he sent forward scouts to examine the ground. A
burst of firing ahead was his first intimation that Charteris's fears
were justified, and two out of the five scouts came scurrying back to
say that the enemy had evidently evacuated the defile, and were
awaiting the fugitives here. As there was no narrow mouth to hold,
however, they could not command the path from above, and were merely
lying hidden among the rocks and bushes on either side. Gerrard
ordered his men to hold their fire in case of a rush, and was glad he
had done so--unpleasant as was the storm of bullets drawn upon the
column by the easy mark offered by the elephants--when he saw that a
body of the enemy were actually posted in front to block his way. Only
one plan was now possible, and he gave orders to Rukn-ud-din and Badan
Hazari that when the proper moment came, the horsemen should open out
and allow the elephants to break a path. At the sound of his whistle
the horsemen faced outwards, and on either side fired a volley into the
bushes, while the elephants were urged on. For a moment the enemy
stood their ground, and the bullets which met the great beasts maddened
them. Trumpeting loudly, they rushed through the opposing ranks, all
but one, and the rout was completed by the swords of the horsemen who
followed.
It was the hunting-elephant, driven frantic by a bullet in a specially
tender spot, which broke the line and turned sideways, overthrowing two
Granthis and their horses as she did so. The mahout, with voice and
goad, tried manfully to get her back into the path, but there was a
moment's wild confusion, in the midst of which Gerrard became aware of
a mob of wild Darwanis, their garments flying, charging down upon his
rear.
"They have broken through! Our Sahib is slain--Chatar Sahib--the Red
Sahib!" they yelled. "Fly for your lives!"
Gerrard spurred back impetuously to stop them, under a hail of bullets
from the enemy rallying in the bushes. A sudden numbing pain in his
arm made him drop the reins, and he had only time to realise that Sher
Singh's pursuing horsemen were on the heels of the fugitives before
their rush swept him from the saddle, and he went down into a cruel
welter of hoofs. Then all was silence.
When he recovered consciousness, he was lying helpless, and as he
thought bound, in an elephant's howdah. An attempt at movement showed
him that he was not bound, but bruised and wounded from head to heel.
"Heaven-born!" said a voice at his side, and he distinguished the tones
of Munshi Somwar Mal. "Now do the roses bloom again in the garden of
joy, since your honour lives!"
"But Charteris Sahib--the Rani--every one?" murmured Gerrard, trying to
remember what had happened.
"The Rani Sahiba saw your honour fall, and herself took command of the
soldiers, bidding them die rather than fail to recover your body.
Sirdar Badan Hazari was killed, fighting very valiantly, and the
Komadan Sahib Rukn-ud-din now leads the troops."
"But Charteris Sahib--what of him, I say?"
"Alas, sahib! The Rani Sahiba bade return to look for him when the foe
were driven back, but none were found alive save a wounded Darwani, who
had seen Chatar Sahib's body thrown over a horse and carried away."