Hope and Despair
Two more weary days passed inside the fortified house. Numerous attacks
had been made, and though they had invariably failed, some damage had
been inflicted on the besieged. As the assailants were retiring in
disorder after one of these futile attempts, a big, light-featured man
in scanty costume sidled up to the house, waving a sealed letter.
"Quick! let me in!" he shouted. "I'm a sepoy of the Guide Corps!"
The door was hurriedly thrown open, but not before the besiegers had
divined the man's intentions, and bullets whizzed perilously near his
head before he was safe inside. Espying our hero, the Guide handed him
the letter, and Ted recognized the fellow as Faiz Talab, his brother's
orderly.
He opened the note, and his face glowed. He whistled, then shouted in
great excitement, "Hurrah! the Guides are coming!"
"The Guides!" echoed Sir Arthur, and a joyful light came into Ethel's
eyes. Faiz Talab, the Pathan, grinned gleefully.
The letter, dated from Manghur, thirty-two miles away, ran as follows:--
"We were starting for Delhi when the Aurungpore news arrived, and as we
pass so close I obtained permission to detach 120 men to your aid. A
greater number cannot be spared, as Delhi is all-important. So, old man,
tell Ethel I'll soon be with her."
The great news quickly spread from one end of the big house to the
other. Food was prepared for the bearer of good tidings, and Faiz Talab,
Yusufzai, was fêted as he had never been before. He described the route
by which the Guides would come, and stated when they might be expected.
"Russell Sahib will be here to-morrow, and by the beard of the Prophet,
we shall teach these curs a lesson!" he concluded.
"You seem to know this district well," said the Commissioner. "You have
been here before," and the man grinned slyly.
"I was a youngster, sahib, when first I saw Aurungpore. We Yusufzais
came down at night and lifted the cattle and raided the villages, and we
laughed at Ranjit Singh's army that followed, for we knew that we had a
good start, and the Sikhs would not venture into the hills. Ah, those
were the good old days! Yet people say they have come again, and that
Delhi is a richer town to loot than Aurungpore."
The Yusufzai smacked his lips at the prospect. Here, thought Ted, was
another sample of the robbers that apparently formed the backbone of the
Guide Corps. The brightness of the prospect revealed by Faiz Talab's
message was fast fading away, and as the garrison had time to think it
over there came a diminution of enthusiasm. Ted voiced the general
opinion when he abruptly asked:
"But of what use is a single company against such swarms of rebels and
budmashes, even if they are to be trusted?"
"But we are the Guides, sahib," said Faiz Talab proudly.
That self-same day came tidings that more than destroyed the hopes
raised by Jim's letter. Into Aurungpore marched the 138th Bengal Native
Infantry, rebels and murderers, flushed with success. They had shot down
their officers and looted the treasury, to guard which had been their
duty. Dire was the consternation caused by the arrival of the new
contingent, and great was the dismay.
But when, next morning, our friends noticed that the six 9-pounders of
the fort were being moved by certain of the new-comers into a position
whence their place of refuge could be bombarded, dismay gave place to
utter despair. The sepoys of the 193rd did not understand the handling
of these guns, and had regarded them with some awe as fearsome weapons
that might turn against themselves. But the 138th counted a couple of
hundred Sikhs amongst their number.
Now the Sikh maharaja, Ranjit Singh, had maintained a splendid force of
artillery, and many of the Sikh sepoys, who had enlisted under British
colours, had previously been gunners in the army of the Khalsa,[6] and
they saw at once how the little garrison might be speedily destroyed. A
few hours' search brought to light a quantity of material that had not
been demolished in the explosion. All day long the exploration went on,
and plenty of ammunition to feed the guns was soon stored close at hand.
[6] The title of the Sikh Confederacy.
The time of the expected arrival of the Guides drew nigh.
"Better that they should not come," Major Munro wearily opined. "They
would only share our fate. What chance would they have against 1500
trained soldiers?"
"Do you think they will turn back, sir, when they hear of the arrival of
this fresh lot?" Ted enquired in an anxious tone.
"I certainly do. It would be foolish--idiotic--to attempt a rescue in
the face of such odds. Were I in your brother's place I should feel it
my duty to government, as well as to my men, not to throw them away on
so helpless an undertaking. It will be very hard for him to leave his
affianced wife in such dreadful peril, but that is one of a soldier's
risks. His men belong to the government, not to him, and he has no
right to risk them where there is no chance. We are short enough of men
as it is."
Ethel, standing by, grew pale as she thought of the danger to her
beloved. Her own peril, and even her father's, were forgotten for the
moment.
"Oh, Major Munro," she exclaimed, "let us hope that they will turn back!
They cannot do us good by throwing their own lives away!"
And this was the opinion of all.
The devoted Rajputs of Captain Markham's company never for a moment
wavered in their allegiance. They fought and took their turn on guard,
and fought again as staunchly as the white men, and many were the acts
of heroism they displayed. Twice was the staff of the Union Jack, that
still floated above the house, broken by missiles, and on each occasion
some of the intrepid Hindus volunteered to splice the wood. In full
sight of the enemy, who fired wildly at them, they achieved this, and
again the silken folds waved freely in the breeze.
Again and again the mutineers advanced on every side, with great noise
and waving of weapons. Again and again they approached more peaceably,
shouting to the Hindus that they should come out and join their
comrades, promising them gold and silver in abundance should they
deliver the white men into their hands.
Each attack was met with steadfast courage; the noisy firing was
answered by a steadier rattle of musketry, and the rebels dropped fast;
unwavering fidelity rejected both bribes and friendly advances; and on
more than one occasion a determined, vigorous sortie was the only reply
vouchsafed by these gallant dark-faces.
Slowly and anxiously the day wore on. Care-worn faces wistfully regarded
the threatening nine-pounders that would soon begin to pour destruction
upon them. For a moment the attacks ceased as the rebels crowded round
the guns that were placed upon an open eminence overlooking the house.
Fascinated by the sight, the whole garrison gathered before the windows,
powerless to avert their gaze from the instruments of destruction.
But what means that sudden commotion--that loud shrill cheering? The mob
is seen to part right and left, the rebel sepoys fling their caps in the
air and wave their muskets excitedly as a body of fine, well-set-up men,
fierce of aspect, turbaned, and clad in drab uniforms, marches into the
courtyard of the fort. Though no word of command is given, the fresh
arrivals there halt, fall out, and at once begin to fraternize with the
mutineers. Behind the tall men appear a score of much smaller figures,
clothed in the same uniform, and these shout and gesticulate more wildly
than any.
"The Guides!" gasps Lieutenant Leigh.
"Traitors, by George!" thunders Major Munro, with intense and vehement
bitterness. "Traitors!"
A long pause followed. The Britons gazed upon one another with blank,
haggard faces. The whole Indian Empire was tumbling down, and none was
loyal! Until this moment not a man amongst them but had known some ray
of hope, however feeble.
"Are they truly the Guides?" asked one. "Who, then, are the little
beggars?" pointing to the rearmost.
"Gurkhas of the Guide Corps," answered Leigh, no less bitterly. "And
their officers have always maintained that Gurkhas can be trusted when
all others fail. Well, we live and learn."
"Aye, we learn,--but not the other," was Munro's grim aside.
Momentarily forgetting their predicament, Ted stared with great
interest at the short figures and Tartar laces that grinned in fiendish
anticipation; for his father had often spoken in terms of the highest
praise of these reputedly fearless Himalayan mountaineers, against whom
he had fought, and whom he had afterwards led.
"Well, if those are Gurkhas, I don't think much of 'em," said the
ensign, his critical spirit asserting itself even at this crisis. "Our
seventy Rajputs could tackle a hundred of them."
As for Faiz Talab, his eyes seemed to be starting from his head.
"The pigs! the curs!" he gasped at length. "What can it mean?"
As the Yusufzai spoke he grasped an Enfield rifle, brought it to his
shoulder, and fired at the mass of drab uniforms, then fell to cursing
his comrades afresh for the shame they had brought upon their corps. The
onlookers could distinguish their own disloyal men pointing out the
British stronghold to the Guides, who seemed to be examining the
situation with keen interest. The siege was temporarily raised, whilst a
general confabulation took place among the rebel leaders.
"Faiz Talab, what have they done to my brother?" asked Ted.
The Yusufzai shook his head. "I know not," said he.
"Hadst thou no word or hint of this intended treachery?"
"Neither word nor hint, sahib. Surely I must be dreaming, for yesterday
we were all loyal to the backbone, and we loved thy brother greatly. I
do not understand it."
"Yesterday," interposed Lieutenant Leigh, "they had not heard of the
mutiny and entry of the 138th. Perhaps that decided the rascals to throw
over the British raj."
"It must indeed be so, yet it does not seem possible."
"Think you they have allowed the Captain Sahib to escape?" asked Alec
Paterson, guessing that Ted could not bring himself to ask this question
for fear of the reply.
"Nay, that could hardly be. If they have been so base as to prove untrue
to the salt they have eaten, they would not hesitate to kill their
officer."
"Though you pretend that they loved him?" Ted bitterly demanded.
"The better reason for slaying him. They would kill him first of all,
because they loved and honoured him, so that he might never know their
shame. Yet I cannot believe it. May my father's grave be defiled if I do
not kill some of the traitors before I die!"
Ted walked to the window and gazed forth upon the distant hubbub.
Paterson followed, and laid his hand upon the shoulder of his chum.
"It will be worse for the poor lassie, I'm thinking, Ted," he said.
Our hero nodded, but could not trust himself to speak.
"We must keep the news from her as long as we can," Alec continued. "She
is with her father now, and has not heard. The others will not tell
her."