I may with truth say, I reached that night the happiest moment in my
life.
Indeed, as the young officer walked on, with me held tight in his hand,
it would be hard to say which of us two was the happier.
Charlie's soldier life had not turned out as happily as, long ago, he
had pictured it to himself. Away from home, and with comparatively few
friends, he had felt himself losing somewhat of his freshness and boyish
enthusiasm, and settling down rather to habits of a humdrum commonplace
official. Books he had very few, and congenial society still less.
Quartered as he had been during the first two years in dull country
stations, he had grown weary of the routine of everyday life, and longed
for the sight of fresh faces, fresh scenes, fresh occupation.
After a while this desire was gratified in his removal to Calcutta. But
if he had suffered from dulness and weariness before, he was now in
danger of going to another extreme. In his first joy at getting back
into lively society he rushed with ardour into all the attractions and
gaieties of the capital. Not that Charlie was a fellow ever to make the
same mistakes as Tom Drift. He never associated with companions he knew
to be bad, or allowed himself to be led into scenes which were in the
slightest degree discreditable. But he did enter rather too readily
into the frivolities of his new quarters, at the expense of his peace of
mind. His popularity was his greatest snare. Everywhere he went he
became a favourite. People were eager to get him to join their parties,
and he was often enough too good-natured to refuse. And thus Charlie
wasted much of his time, and in the end found himself far more
dissatisfied with himself than in the quiet monotony of his up-country
duties.
Do not let me do him injustice, reader, in my account of him during
those few weeks at Calcutta.
He was gay but not fast, frivolous though not dissipated. His errors
were errors of unprofitableness, but never of viciousness. Even in his
most frivolous moments he had never been anything but a gentleman and a
good fellow. Still, it had been unsatisfactory, and he knew it to be so
in his inmost soul.
In the midst of this life came the mutiny, and, like hundreds of others,
Charlie leapt at the call of duty, and flung to the winds all those
attractions which had held him captive during the weeks of his idleness.
Like hundreds of others his blood boiled at the tragedies of that awful
time, and now, of all the rescuing host, there was not one who loved his
own life less, or his country's glory more, than Charlie Newcome.
And thus it was with him when I found him.
But to-night, whatever may have been the memories, and hopes, and
regrets which secretly animated his breast in finding himself again
possessed of his boyish treasure and the companion of so many of his
happiest days, Charlie Newcome had no leisure to sit down and spend his
time in passive contemplation. He had a report to make to his colonel,
and an important despatch to carry to the commander-in-chief. Then
there was the ammunition to be served out among his men, and he had to
superintend the process. And there were the plans for next day's
assault to be talked over with his brother officers, and the various
detachments for that duty to be selected. So that Charlie was a busy
man that night. But with what a light heart he laboured! Among his
occupations he did not forget the gold watch, but had the satisfaction
of making Paddy the happiest man (but one) in the camp.
Thus, first with one thing, then another, the night wore on; and, when
towards morning he lay down on his camp bed for a hurried rest, he fell
asleep like a child, whistling one of the old Randlebury songs, and with
me, as of old, under his pillow.
At the first note of the bugle he sprang from his couch, and putting me
in my old abode, next his heart, sallied out to see the preparations for
the advance. It was generally known we were to make a dash for the
approaches to Lucknow this day; and at the prospect of the attack the
troops hailed the signal to get under arms with enthusiasm. It was
plain to see, by the alacrity with which the men worked, that my master
was a prime favourite in his own company; indeed, such was their
promptitude that we stood ready and waiting long before the order to
march arrived.
During this interval, if Charlie was seized with a desire to know the
time once, he was seized twenty times; and each time a mere glance was
not enough to satisfy him. How natural it all seemed, and how like old
times!
Then came the longed-for signal, and with a cheer the men set their
faces towards Lucknow.
Now, the reader must not expect I am going to describe military
operations for his edification. I know nothing about columns and
countermarches, and echelons and skirmishing; how could a watch, hid
under a scarlet jacket, be expected to do so?
True, I had eyes that could penetrate any number of scarlet jackets, but
what good was that when I knew about as much of the art of war as I did
of candle-making!
But there are some things in the events of that memorable day which I
shall remember as long as I live.
After about an hour's march we were suddenly halted, and almost at the
same moment there came the sullen boom of a gun ahead. I could feel
Charlie's heart leap at the sound. It was the enemy at last; and now
the fate of Lucknow was to be decided.
A horseman dashed up to the head of our column and called out to our
colonel, in a voice loud enough for us all to hear, "Bring up your
battalion." Next moment we were advancing in double quick time through
a lane of troops to the front. There two other regiments stood waiting,
and almost the instant we arrived the whole body moved forward at a run.
It was an exciting moment. The enemy's guns sounded louder and more
frequent ahead, and dropping shot at either side announced that our
danger was not all in front. The pace was kept up for a hundred yards
or so, until we reached a cluster of trees, in whose shelter the column
was halted to get breath. The fire in front still kept up, and through
the smoke I thought I could discern the dim outline of a low building,
not five hundred yards distant. At this moment Charlie and the other
officers were summoned to the front for orders. They were brief and to
the point.
"Straight for the fort, there!" said the commanding officer, "the
shortest way you can take your men!"
It was an order that meant certain death to scores of those brave
fellows; yet when they had heard it they cheered as schoolboys cheer for
a holiday.
Again we stood waiting. The officers with their swords drawn stepped in
front. The men quickly loaded and fixed bayonets, and then came the
shout,--
"Forward!"
As we cleared the trees we burst full in the face of the enemy's fire.
For a moment the balls whizzed harmlessly over our heads, then there was
a crash on the ground before us, and, as we rushed on, the men parted on
either side to avoid stepping over a dying man. It was awful; and every
step we took grew more and more fatal. Under that withering fire men
went down by the dozen; yet still the column rushed on. The front rank
broke into gaps, which the rear rank men dashed forward to fill, till
they themselves fell. And still on we rushed. Officers, too,
everywhere to the front, dropped one by one; but still we never checked
our pace. The sullen walls of the fort stood clear before us and poured
upon us an unceasing shower of bullet and ball. In a minute our
foremost men would be at the walls.
"Forward now! follow me!" I heard Charlie cry; and looking round
noticed for the first time that the captain of his company was missing.
The men cheered by way of answer, and their run broke into a rush as
they followed him under the guns. Others were at the fort before us,
and the storm had already begun. Heedless of wounds, heedless of peril,
the men swept towards the breach, and called on those behind to come on.
Charlie was one of the earliest of our battalion there, and already his
feet were in the place, and he was waving to his men to come up when--
I felt a dull crushing sensation. My nerves collapsed; my senses left
me. Speech, sight, hearing, all failed me in an instant; a strange
darkness came over me, and then I was conscious of nothing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
When my senses slowly and wearily recovered I was still lying in my
master's pocket in the place where he had fallen at the storming of the
breach. Firing was still going on all around, but the shouts of our men
rose now from inside the fort instead of outside. And what shouting it
was! The enemy's guns ceased as if by magic, and the distant sounds of
firing showed plainly enough that the main body, now that we had
silenced the fort, was resuming its march on Lucknow.
All this flashed through me as my senses gradually returned, and before
even I had time to contemplate my own condition. What a wreck I was! A
helpless cripple past all healing, of no use to any one, and utterly
incapable of resuming the ordinary duties of life. But almost before I
could realise this, another care flashed through my mind and drove out
every other.
My master! What of him? There he lay, motionless and pale, with his
blue eyes closed, and a little stream of blood trickling down his chest.
Could he be dead?
Anxiously I listened if his heart still beat. At first all seemed
silent as death. Then there seemed a slight quiver, and as I listened
still, a faint throb. He lived still! How I longed for help to come!
And before long it came. Two soldiers of Charlie's regiment came out of
the fort and walked straight towards us.
"It was close to the breach he dropped," said one.
"Come on, then," said the other, "and we may be in time."
They were not long in finding the object of their search, and leant
eagerly over him.
"He's dead, poor fellow!" said the first; "shot right through the
heart!"
"So he is," said the other. "It must have--wait a bit!" cried he, in
sudden excitement. "Feel here, Tom, quick! he's alive yet! Oh, if we
could only get hold of a doctor!"
"Is there one about at all?"
"Not that I know of, unless the Major knows what to do."
Just then there came up a gaunt man, in an undress uniform, who, seeing
that they knelt over a wounded man, said,--
"Is he alive?"
"It's all he is, sir," replied one of the men; "and we're wondering how
to get a doctor to him."
"Let me see," said the stranger, approaching the body.
He knelt beside it and gently removed the coat from the wound.
"It looks as if he must be shot through the heart. Stay a bit, though,
here's a watch!" and he pulled me softly out of the pocket. As he did
so I looked up at him. Surely I knew his face! Surely somewhere I had
seen that troubled frightened face before! Then I remembered Seatown
Gaol! Could this be Tom Drift here in India, and kneeling beside his
old schoolfellow's body?
It was indeed Tom Drift! But he neither recognised me nor the wounded
man before him; indeed he was too busy examining the latter's wound to
look very closely at his face. As he removed the waistcoat he uttered
an exclamation of astonishment.
"A most wonderful thing," he said; "the bullet, which must have been a
spent one, has struck his watch and turned aside. A most wonderful
escape!"
And then he produced a box of instruments, with one of which he probed
the wound, and after some trouble extracted the bullet. Then, bandaging
up the place, he said,--
"He may do now, but he has lost a lot of blood. Let him lie here a bit,
and presently, if he seems better, move him into the fort. I will see
him again this evening."
And so saying, he passed on to the next prostrate figure.
Towards evening the two men tenderly lifted their officer in their arms
and carried him inside the fort, where a rude hospital had been fitted
up. Here Charlie, who, after the extraction of the bullet and
staunching of blood, had shown symptoms of recovery, opened his eyes,
and found himself able to say a few words to those round him. And when
they told him how I had probably saved his life his face lit up with a
most triumphant smile, and he asked that I might be put into his hand.
As he lay there, scarcely strong enough to speak, and fondling me in his
fingers, the doctor entered the hospital.
He came straight to Charlie's bed. My master's eyes were closed when
Tom first reached his side; and I could see by the face of the latter
that he was still as far from recognising his old schoolfellow as ever.
But directly Tom softly lifted the clothes in order to examine his
wound, the patient woke and opened his eyes. They rested for a moment
on the doctor's face, and then, with a sudden flush and start, he half
raised himself in his bed, and exclaimed,--
"Tom Drift, is it you?"
The doctor thus unexpectedly hearing his own name pronounced, turned
pale, and started back as if he had been shot. The scared, terrified
look returned to his face, and for an instant he seemed as if he would
rush from the place. But only for an instant.
As he looked again on the face of his patient a strange expression came
over his own. Wonder, doubt, joy, succeeded each other in rapid
succession, and then all of a sudden it flashed upon him who this was.
"Charlie!" he exclaimed, trembling with astonishment; and next moment
the poor prodigal was on his knees beside his friend's bed, sobbing,
with his head buried in his hands.
Don't laugh at him, reader, for thus forgetting himself. Tom Drift had
been through many trials you know nothing about, and out of those trials
he had come broken in spirit and as humble as a child. _You_ might have
had more regard for appearances, perhaps, and controlled your emotion
genteelly; but, as I have said before, Tom Drift was not anything like
so strong-minded as you. So he knelt there and sobbed; and Charlie, as
he lay, took his hand into his own, and held it.