The Escape
Loth as they were, these gentlemen had nothing for it but to obey, and
they accordingly followed me to the ramparts, where I proceeded to
review my men. The fort, in my absence, had been left in command of
Lieutenant Macgillicuddy, a countryman of my own (with whom, as may be
seen in an early chapter of my memoirs, I had an affair of honour); and
the prisoner Bobbachy Bahawder, whom I had only stunned, never wishing
to kill him, had been left in charge of that officer. Three of the
garrison (one of them a man of the Ahmednuggar Irregulars, my own
body-servant, Ghorumsaug above named) were appointed to watch the
captive by turns, and never leave him out of their sight. The
lieutenant was instructed to look to them and to their prisoner; and as
Bobbachy was severely injured by the blow which I had given him, and
was, moreover, bound hand and foot, and gagged smartly with cords, I
considered myself sure of his person.
Macgillicuddy did not make his appearance when I reviewed my little
force, and the three havildars were likewise absent: this did not
surprise me, as I had told them not to leave their prisoner; but
desirous to speak with the lieutenant, I despatched a messenger to him,
and ordered him to appear immediately.
The messenger came back; he was looking ghastly pale: he whispered some
information into my ear, which instantly caused me to hasten to the
apartments where I had caused Bobbachy Bahawder to be confined.
The men had fled;—Bobbachy had fled; and in his place, fancy my
astonishment when I found—with a rope cutting his naturally wide mouth
almost into his ears—with a dreadful sabre-cut across his forehead—with
his legs tied over his head, and his arms tied between his legs—my
unhappy, my attached friend—Mortimer Macgillicuddy!
He had been in this position for about three hours—it was the very
position in which I had caused Bobbachy Bahawder to be placed—an
attitude uncomfortable, it is true, but one which renders escape
impossible, unless treason aid the prisoner.
I restored the lieutenant to his natural erect position; I poured
half-a-bottle of whisky down the immensely enlarged orifice of his
mouth; and when he had been released, he informed me of the
circumstances that had taken place.
Fool that I was! idiot!—upon my return to the fort, to have been
anxious about my personal appearance, and to have spent a couple of
hours in removing the artificial blackening from my beard and
complexion, instead of going to examine my prisoner—when his escape
would have been prevented. O foppery, foppery!—it was that cursed love
of personal appearance which had led me to forget my duty to my
general, my country, my monarch, and my own honour!
Thus it was that the escape took place:- My own fellow of the
Irregulars, whom I had summoned to dress me, performed the operation to
my satisfaction, invested me with the elegant uniform of my corps, and
removed the Pitan’s disguise, which I had taken from the back of the
prostrate Bobbachy Bahawder. What did the rogue do next?—Why, he
carried back the dress to the Bobbachy—he put it, once more, on its
right owner; he and his infernal black companions (who had been won
over by the Bobbachy with promises of enormous reward) gagged
Macgillicuddy, who was going the rounds, and then marched with the
Indian coolly up to the outer gate, and gave the word. The sentinel,
thinking it was myself, who had first come in, and was as likely to go
out again—(indeed my rascally valet said that Gahagan Sahib was about
to go out with him and his two companions to reconnoitre)—opened the
gates, and off they went!
This accounted for the confusion of my valet when I entered!—and for
the scoundrel’s speech, that the lieutenant had _just been the
rounds;_—he _had_, poor fellow, and had been seized and bound in this
cruel way. The three men, with their liberated prisoner, had just been
on the point of escape, when my arrival disconcerted them: I had
changed the guard at the gate (whom they had won over likewise); and
yet, although they had overcome poor Mac, and although they were ready
for the start, they had positively no means for effecting their escape,
until I was ass enough to put means in their way. Fool! fool! thrice
besotted fool that I was, to think of my own silly person when I should
have been occupied solely with my public duty.
From Macgillicuddy’s incoherent accounts, as he was gasping from the
effects of the gag and the whisky he had taken to revive him, and from
my own subsequent observations, I learned this sad story. A sudden and
painful thought struck me—my precious box!—I rushed back, I found that
box—I have it still. Opening it, there, where I had left ingots, sacks
of bright tomauns, kopeks and rupees, strings of diamonds as big as
ducks’ eggs, rubies as red as the lips of my Belinda, countless strings
of pearls, amethysts, emeralds, piles upon piles of bank-notes—I
found—a piece of paper! with a few lines in the Sanscrit language,
which are thus, word for word, translated:-
“EPIGRAM.
(_On disappointing a certain Major_.)
“The conquering lion return’d with his prey,
And safe in his cavern he set it;
The sly little fox stole the booty away,
And, as he escaped, to the lion did say,
‘_Aha!_ don’t you wish you may get it?’”
Confusion! Oh, how my blood boiled as I read these cutting lines. I
stamped,—I swore,—I don’t know to what insane lengths my rage might
have carried me, had not at this moment a soldier rushed in, screaming,
“The enemy, the enemy!”