That evening, after dining alone, the Doctor went in to Bathurst’s.
The latter had already heard the news, and they talked it over for some
time. Then the Doctor said, “Have you seen Forster, Bathurst, since he
arrived?”
“No, I was out when he left his card. I was at school with him.. I heard
when I was in England that he was out here in the native cavalry, but I
have never run across him before, and I own I had no wish to do so. He
was about two years older than I was, and was considered the cock of the
school. He was one of my chief tormentors. I don’t know that he was
a bully generally--fellows who are really plucky seldom are; but he
disliked me heartily, and I hated him.
“I had the habit of telling the truth when questioned, and he narrowly
escaped expulsion owing to my refusing to tell a lie about his being
quietly in bed when, in fact, he and two or three other fellows had been
out at a public house. He never forgave me for it, for he himself would
have told a lie without hesitation to screen himself, or, to do him
justice, to screen anyone else; and the mere fact that I myself had
been involved in the matter, having been sent out by one of the bigger
fellows, and, therefore, having got myself a flogging by my admission,
was no mitigation in his eyes of my offense of what he called sneaking.
“So you may imagine I have no particular desire to meet him again.
Unless he has greatly changed, he would do me a bad turn if he had the
chance.”
“I don’t think he has greatly changed,” the Doctor said. “That was
really what I came in here for this evening rather than to talk about
this Sepoy business. I am sorry to say, Bathurst, that when he was in
at the Major’s today your name happened to be mentioned, and he said
at once, ‘Is that the Bathurst who they say showed the white feather at
Chillianwalla and left the army in consequence?’”
Bathurst’s face grew pale and his fingers closed. He remained silent a
minute, and then said, “It does not matter; she would have been sure to
hear it sooner or later, and I should have told her myself if he had not
done so; besides, if, as I am afraid, this Berhampore business is the
beginning of trouble, and of such trouble as we have never had since we
set foot in India, it is likely that everyone will know what she knows
now. Has she spoken to you about it? I suppose she has, or you would not
have known that he mentioned it.”
“Yes, she was most indignant about it, and did not believe it.”
“And what did you say, Doctor?” he asked indifferently.
“Well, I was sorry I could not tell her exactly what you told me. It
would have been better if I could have done so. I simply said there were
many sorts of courage, and that I was sure that you possessed many sorts
in a very high degree, but I could not, of course, deny; although I did
not admit, the truth of the report he had mentioned.”
“I don’t think it makes much difference one way or the other,” Bathurst
said wearily. “I have known all along that Isobel Hannay would not marry
a coward, only I have gone on living in a fool’s paradise. However, it
is over now--the sooner it is all over the better.”
“My dear fellow,” the Doctor said earnestly, “don’t take this thing too
much to heart. I don’t wish to try and persuade you that it is not a
grave misfortune, but even suppose this trouble takes the very worst
form possible, I do not think you will come so very badly out of it as
you anticipate. Even assuming that you are unable to do your part in
absolute fighting, there may be other opportunities, and most likely
will, in which you may be able to show that although unable to control
your nerves in the din of battle, you possess in other respects coolness
and courage. That feat of yours of attacking the tiger with the dog whip
shows conclusively that under many circumstances you are capable of most
daring deeds.”
Bathurst sat looking down for some minutes. “God grant that it may
be so,” he said at last; “but it is no use talking about it any more,
Doctor. I suppose Major Hannay will keep a sharp lookout over the men?”
“Yes; there was a meeting of the officers this afternoon. It was agreed
to make no outward change, and to give the troops no cause whatever to
believe that they are suspected. They all feel confident of the goodwill
of the men; at the same time they will watch them closely, and if the
news comes of further trouble, they will prepare the courthouse as a
place of refuge.”
“That is a very good plan; but of course everything depends upon
whether, if the troops do rise in mutiny, the people of Oude should join
them. They are a fighting race, and if they should throw in their lot
against us the position would be a desperate one.”
“Well, there is no doubt,” the Doctor said, “that the Rajah of Bithoor
would be with us; that will make Cawnpore safe, and will largely
influence all the great Zemindars, though there is no doubt that a
good many of them have been sulky ever since the disarmament order was
issued. I believe there are few of them who have not got cannon hidden
away or buried, and as for the people, the number of arms given up was
as nothing to what we know they possessed. In other parts of India I
believe the bulk of the people will be with us; but here in Oude, our
last annexation, I fear that they will side against us, unless all the
great landowners range themselves on our side.”
“As far as I can see,” Bathurst said, “the people are contented with the
change. I don’t say what I may call the professional fighting class,
the crowd of retainers kept by the great landowners, who were constantly
fighting against each other. Annexation has put a stop to all that, and
the towns are crowded with these fighting men, who hate us bitterly; but
the peasants, the tillers of the soil, have benefited greatly. They
are no longer exposed to raids by their powerful neighbors, and
can cultivate their fields in peace and quiet. Unfortunately their
friendship, such as it is, will not weigh in the slightest degree in
the event of a struggle. At any rate, I am sure they are not behind the
scenes, and know nothing whatever of any coming trouble. Going as I
do among them, and talking to them as one of themselves, I should have
noticed it had there been any change in them; and of late naturally I
have paid special notice to their manner. Well, if it is to come I hope
it will come soon, for anything is better than suspense.”
Two days later Major Hannay read out to the men on parade an official
document, assuring them that there was no truth whatever in the
statements that had been made that the cartridges served out to them had
been greased with pigs’ fat. They were precisely the same as those that
they had used for years, and the men were warned against listening to
seditious persons who might try to poison their minds and shake their
loyalty to the Government. He then told them that he was sorry to say
that at one or two stations the men had been foolish enough to listen
to disloyal counsels, and that in consequence the regiments had been
disbanded and the men had forfeited all the advantages in the way of pay
and pension they had earned by many years of good conduct. He said that
he had no fear whatever of any such trouble arising with them, as they
knew that they had been well treated, that any legitimate complaint
they might make had always been attended to, and that their officers had
their welfare thoroughly at heart.
When he had finished, the senior native officer stepped forward, and in
the name of the detachment assured the Major that the men were perfectly
contented, and would in all cases follow their officers, even if they
ordered them to march against their countrymen. At the conclusion of his
speech he called upon the troops to give three cheers for the Major and
officers, and this was responded to with a show of great enthusiasm.
This demonstration was deemed very satisfactory, and the uneasiness
among the residents abated considerably, while the Major and his
officers felt convinced that, whatever happened at other stations, there
would at least be no trouble at Deennugghur.
“Well, even you are satisfied, Doctor, I suppose?” the Major said, as
a party of them who had been dining with Dr. Wade were smoking in the
veranda.
“I was hopeful before, Major, and I am hopeful now; but I can’t say that
today’s parade has influenced me in the slightest. Whatever virtues
the Hindoo may have, he has certainly that of knowing how to wait. I
believe, from what took place, that they have no intention of breaking
out at present; whether they are waiting to see what is done at other
stations, or until they receive a signal, is more than I can say; but
their assurances do not weigh with me to the slightest extent. Their
history is full of cases of perfidious massacre. I should say, ‘Trust
them as long as you can, but don’t relax your watch.’”
“You are a confirmed croaker,” Captain Rintoul said.
“I do not think so, Rintoul. I know the men I am talking about, and I
know the Hindoos generally. They are mere children, and can be molded
like clay. As long as we had the molding, all went well; but if
they fall into the hands of designing men they can be led in another
direction just as easily as we have led them in ours. I own that I don’t
see who can be sufficiently interested in the matter to conceive and
carry out a great conspiracy of this kind. The King of Oude is a captive
in our hands, the King of Delhi is too old to play such a part. Scindia
and Holkar may possibly long for the powers their fathers possessed,
but they are not likely to act together, and may be regarded as rivals
rather than friends, and yet if it is not one of these who has been
brewing this storm. I own I don’t see who can be at the bottom of it,
unless it has really originated from some ambitious spirits among
the Sepoys, who look in the event of success to being masters of the
destinies of India. It is a pity we did not get a few more views from
that juggler; we might have known a little more of it then.”
“Don’t talk about him, Doctor,” Wilson said; “it gives me the cold
shivers to think of that fellow and what he did; I have hardly slept
since then. It was the most creepy thing I ever saw. Richards and I have
talked it over every evening we have been alone together, and we can’t
make head or tail of the affair. Richards thinks it wasn’t the girl at
all who went up on that pole, but a sort of balloon in her shape. But
then, as I say, there was the girl standing among us before she took her
place on the pole. We saw her sit down and settle herself on the cushion
so that she was balanced right. So it could not have been a balloon
then, and if it were a balloon afterwards, when did she change? At any
rate the light below was sufficient to see well until she was forty or
fifty feet up, and after that she shone out, and we never lost sight of
her until she was ever so high. I can understand the pictures, because
there might have been a magic lantern somewhere, but that girl trick,
and the basket trick, and that great snake are altogether beyond me.”
“So I should imagine, Wilson,” the Doctor said dryly; “and if I were you
I would not bother my head about it.. Nobody has succeeded in finding
out any of them yet, and all the wondering in the world is not likely to
get you any nearer to it.”
“That is what I feel, Doctor, but it is very riling to see things that
you can’t account for anyhow. I wish he had sent up Richards on the pole
instead of the girl. I would not have minded going up myself if he had
asked me, though I expect I should have jumped off before it got up very
far, even at the risk of breaking my neck.”
“I should not mind risking that,” the Doctor said, “though I doubt
whether I should have known any more about it when I came down; but
these jugglers always bring a girl or a boy with them instead of calling
somebody out from the audience, as they do at home. Well, if things are
quiet we will organize another hunt, Wilson. I have heard of a tiger
fifteen miles away from where we killed our last, and you and Richards
shall go with me if you like.”
“I should like it of all things, Doctor, provided it comes off by day.
I don’t think I care about sitting through another night on a tree, and
then not getting anything like a fair shot at the beast after all.”
“We will go by day,” the Doctor said. “Bathurst has promised to get some
elephants from one of the Zemindars; we will have a regular party this
time. I have half promised Miss Hannay she shall have a seat in a howdah
with me if the Major will give her leave, and in that case we will send
out tents and make a regular party of it. What do you say, Major?”
“I am perfectly willing, Doctor, and have certainly no objection to
trusting Isobel to your care. I know you are not likely to miss.”
“No, I am not likely to miss, certainly; and besides, there will be
Wilson and Richards to give him the coup de grace if I don’t finish
him.”
There was a general laugh, for the two subalterns had been chaffed a
good deal at both missing the tiger on the previous occasion.
“Well, when shall it be, Major?”
“Not just at present, at any rate,” the Major said. “We must see how
things are going on. I certainly should not think of going outside the
station now, nor could I give leave to any officer to do so; but if
things settle down, and we hear no more of this cartridge business for
the next ten days or a fortnight, we will see about it.”
But although no news of any outbreak similar to that at Barrackpore
was received for some days, the report that came showed a widespread
restlessness. At various stations, all over India, fires, believed to be
the work of incendiaries, took place, and there was little abatement of
the uneasiness. It become known, too, that a native officer had before
the rising of Berhampore given warning of the mutiny, and had stated
that there was a widespread plot throughout the native regiments to
rise, kill their officers, and then march to Delhi, where they were all
to gather.
The story was generally disbelieved, although the actual rising had
shown that, to some extent, the report was well founded; still men could
not bring themselves to believe that the troops among whom they had
lived so long, and who had fought so well for us, could meditate such
gross treachery, without having, as far as could be seen, any real cause
for complaint.
The conduct of the troops at Deennugghur was excellent, and the Colonel
wrote that at Cawnpore there were no signs whatever of disaffection, and
that the Rajah of Bithoor had offered to come down at the head of his
own troops should there be any symptoms of mutiny among the Sepoys.
Altogether things looked better, and a feeling of confidence that there
would be no serious trouble spread through the station.
The weather had set in very hot, and there was no stirring out now for
the ladies between eleven o’clock and five or six in the afternoon.
Isobel, however, generally went in for a chat, the first thing after
early breakfast, with Mrs. Doolan, whose children were fractious with
prickly heat.
“I only wish we had some big, high mountain, my dear, somewhere within
reach, where we could establish the children through the summer and run
away ourselves occasionally to look after them. We are very badly off
here in Oude for that. You are looking very pale yourself the last few
days.”
“I suppose I feel it a little,” Isobel said, “and of course this anxiety
everyone has been feeling worries one. Everyone seems to agree that
there is no fear of trouble with the Sepoys here; still, as nothing else
is talked about, one cannot help feeling nervous about it. However, as
things seem settling down now, I hope we shall soon get something else
to talk about.”
“I have not seen Mr. Bathurst lately,” Mrs. Doolan said presently.
“Nor have we,” Isobel said quietly; “it is quite ten days since we saw
him last.”
“I suppose he is falling back into his hermit ways,” Mrs. Doolan said
carelessly, shooting a keen glance at Isobel, who was leaning over one
of the children.
“He quite emerged from his shell for a bit. Mrs. Hunter was saying she
never saw such a change in a man, but I suppose he has got tired of it.
Captain Forster arrived just in time to fill up the gap. How do you like
him, Isobel?”
“He is amusing,” the girl said quietly; “I have never seen anyone quite
like him before; he talks in an easy, pleasant sort of way, and tells
most amusing stories. Then, when he sits down by one he has the knack of
dropping his voice and talking in a confidential sort of way, even when
it is only about the weather. I am always asking myself how much of it
is real, and what there is under the surface.”
Mrs. Doolan nodded approval.
“I don’t think there is much under the surface, dear, and what there is
is just as well left alone; but there is no doubt he can be delightful
when he chooses, and very few women would not feel flattered by the
attentions of a man who is said to be the handsomest officer in the
Indian army, and who has besides distinguished himself several times as
a particularly dashing officer.”
“I don’t think handsomeness goes for much in a man,” Isobel said
shortly.
Mrs. Doolan laughed.
“Why should it not go for as much as prettiness in a woman? It is no use
being cynical, Isobel; it is part of our nature to admire pretty things,
and as far as I can see an exceptionally handsome man is as legitimate
an object of admiration as a lovely woman.”
“Yes, to admire, Mrs. Doolan, but not to like.”
“Well, my dear, I don’t want to be hurrying you away, but I think you
had better get back before the sun gets any higher. You may say you
don’t feel the heat much, but you are looking pale and fagged, and the
less you are out in the sun the better.”
Isobel had indeed been having a hard time during those ten days. At
first she had thought of little but what she should do when Bathurst
called. It seemed impossible that she could be exactly the same with him
as she had been before, that was quite out of the question, and yet how
was she to be different?
Ten days had passed without his coming. This was so unusual that an
idea came into her mind which terrified her, and the first time when the
Doctor came in and found her alone she said, “Of course, Dr. Wade, you
have not mentioned to Mr. Bathurst the conversation we had, but it is
curious his not having been here since.”
“Certainly I mentioned it,” the Doctor said calmly; “how could I do
otherwise? It was evident to me that he would not be welcomed here as he
was before, and I could not do otherwise than warn him of the change he
might expect to find, and to give him the reason for it.”
Isobel stood the picture of dismay. “I don’t think you had any right
to do so, Doctor,” she said. “You have placed me in a most painful
position.”
“In not so painful a one as it would have been, my dear, if he had
noticed the change himself, as he must have done, and asked for the
cause of it.”
Isobel stood twisting her fingers over each other before her nervously.
“But what am I to do?” she asked.
“I do not see that there is anything more for you to do,” the Doctor
said. “Mr. Bathurst may not be perfect in all respects, but he is
certainly too much of a gentleman to force his visits where they are
not wanted. I do not say he will not come here at all, for not to do so
after being here so much would create comment and talk in the station,
which would be as painful to you as to him, but he certainly will not
come here more often than is necessary to keep up appearances.”
“I don’t think you ought to have told him,” Isobel repeated, much
distressed.
“I could not help it, my dear. You would force me to admit there was
some truth in the story Captain Forster told you, and I was, therefore,
obliged to acquaint him with the fact or he would have had just cause
to reproach me. Besides, you spoke of despising a man who was not
physically brave.”
“You never told him that, Doctor; surely you never told him that?”
“I only told what it was necessary he should know, my dear, namely, that
you had heard the story, that you had questioned me, and that I, knowing
the facts from his lips, admitted that there was some foundation for the
story, while asserting that I was convinced that he was morally a brave
man. He did not ask how you took the news, nor did I volunteer any
information whatever on the subject, but he understood, I think,
perfectly the light in which you would view a coward.”
“But what am I to do when we meet, Doctor?” she asked piteously.
“I should say that you will meet just as ordinary acquaintances do meet,
Miss Hannay. People are civil to others they are thrown with, however
much they may distrust them at heart. You may be sure that Mr. Bathurst
will make no allusion whatever to the matter. I think I can answer for
it that you will see no shade of difference in his manner. This has
always been a heavy burden for him, as even the most careless observer
may see in his manner. I do not say that this is not a large addition to
it, but I dare say he will pull through; and now I must be off.”
“You are very unkind, Doctor, and I never knew you unkind before.”
“Unkind!” the Doctor repeated, with an air of surprise. “In what way?
I love this young fellow. I had cherished hopes for him that he hardly
perhaps ventured to cherish for himself. I quite agree with you that
what has passed has annihilated those hopes. You despise a man who is
a coward. I am not surprised at that. Bathurst is the last man in the
world who would force himself upon a woman who despised him. I have done
my best to save you from being obliged to make a personal declaration of
your sentiments. I repudiate altogether the accusation as being unkind.
I don’t blame you in the slightest. I think that your view is the one
that a young woman of spirit would naturally take. I acquiesce in it
entirely. I will go farther, I consider it a most fortunate occurrence
for you both that you found it out in time.”
Isobel’s cheeks had flushed and paled several times while he was
speaking; then she pressed her lips tightly together, and as he finished
she said, “I think, Doctor, it will be just as well not to discuss the
matter further.”
“I am quite of your opinion,” he said. “We will agree not to allude to
it again. Goodby.”
And then Isobel had retired to her room and cried passionately, while
the Doctor had gone off chuckling to himself as if he were perfectly
satisfied with the state of affairs.
During the week that had since elapsed the Major had wondered and
grumbled several times at Bathurst’s absence.
“I expect,” he said one day, when a note of refusal had come from him,
“that he doesn’t care about meeting Forster. You remember Forster said
they had been at school together, and from the tone in which he spoke
it is evident that they disliked each other there. No doubt he has heard
from the Doctor that Forster is frequently in here,” and the Major spoke
rather irritably, for it seemed to him that Isobel showed more pleasure
in the Captain’s society than she should have done after what he had
said to her about him; indeed, Isobel, especially when the Doctor was
present, appeared by no means to object to Captain Forster’s attentions.
Upon the evening, however, of the day when Isobel had spoken to Mrs.
Doolan, Bathurst came in, rather late in the evening.
“How are you, Bathurst?” the Major said cordially. “Why, you have become
quite a stranger. We haven’t seen you for over a fortnight. Do you know
Captain Forster?”
“We were at school together formerly, I believe,” Bathurst said
quietly. “We have not met since, and I fancy we are both changed beyond
recognition.”
Captain Forster looked with surprise at the strong, well knit figure. He
had not before seen Bathurst, and had pictured him to himself as a weak,
puny man.
“I certainly should not have known Mr. Bathurst,” he said. “I have
changed a great deal, no doubt, but he has certainly changed more.”
There was no attempt on the part of either to shake hands. As they moved
apart Isobel came into the room.
A quick flash of color spread over her face when, upon entering, she saw
Bathurst talking to her uncle. Then she advanced, shook hands with
him as usual, and said, “It is quite a time since you were here, Mr.
Bathurst. If everyone was as full of business as you are, we should get
on badly.”
Then she moved on without waiting for a reply and sat down, and was soon
engaged in a lively conversation with. Captain Forster, whilst Bathurst,
a few minutes later, pleading that as he had been in the saddle all day
he must go and make up for lost time, took his leave.
Captain Forster had noticed the flush on Isobel’s cheeks when she saw
Bathurst, and had drawn his own conclusions.
“There has been a flirtation between them,” he said to himself; “but I
fancy I have put a spoke in his wheel. She gave him the cold shoulder
unmistakably.”
April passed, and as matters seemed to be quieting down, there being no
fresh trouble at any of the stations, the Major told Dr. Wade that he
really saw no reason why the projected tiger hunt should not take place.
The Doctor at once took the matter in hand, and drove out the next
morning to the village from which he had received news about the tiger,
had a long talk with the shikaris of the place, took a general view of
the country, settled the line in which the beat should take place,
and arranged for a large body of beaters to be on the spot at the time
agreed on.
Bathurst undertook to obtain the elephants from two Zemindars in the
neighborhood, who promised to furnish six, all of which were more or
less accustomed to the sport; while the Major and Mr. Hunter, who had
been a keen sportsman, although he had of late given up the pursuit of
large game, arranged for a number of bullock carts for the transport of
tents and stores.
Bathurst himself declined to be one of the party, which was to consist
of Mr. Hunter and his eldest daughter, the Major and Isobel, the Doctor,
the two subalterns, and Captain Forster. Captain Doolan said frankly
that he was no shot, and more likely to hit one of the party than the
tiger. Captain Rintoul at first accepted, but his wife shed such floods
of tears at the idea of his leaving her and going into danger, that for
the sake of peace he agreed to remain at home.
Wilson and Richards were greatly excited over the prospect, and talked
of nothing else; they were burning to wipe out the disgrace of having
missed on the previous occasion. Each of them interviewed the Doctor
privately, and implored him to put them in a position where they were
likely to have the first shot. Both used the same arguments, namely,
that the Doctor had killed so many tigers that one more or less could
make no difference to him, and if they missed, which they modestly
admitted was possible, he could still bring the animal down.
As the Doctor was always in a good temper when there was a prospect of
sport, he promised each of them to do all that he could for them, at the
same time pointing out that it was always quite a lottery which way the
tiger might break out.
Isobel was less excited than she would have thought possible over the
prospect of taking part in a tiger hunt. She had many consultations
to hold with Mrs. Hunter, the Doctor, and Rumzan as to the food to be
taken, and the things that would be absolutely necessary for camping
out; for, as it was possible that the first day’s beat would be
unsuccessful, they were to be prepared for at least two days’ absence
from home. Two tents were to be taken, one for the gentlemen, the other
for Isobel and Mary Hunter. These, with bedding and camp furniture,
cooking utensils and provisions, were to be sent off at daybreak, while
the party were to start as soon as the heat of the day was over.
“I wish Bathurst had been coming,” Major Hannay said, as, with Isobel by
his side, he drove out of the cantonment. “He seems to have slipped away
from us altogether; he has only been in once for the last three or four
weeks. You haven’t had a tiff with him about anything, have you, Isobel?
It seems strange his ceasing so suddenly to come after our seeing so
much of him.”
“No, uncle, I have not seen him except when you have. What put such an
idea into your mind?”
“I don’t know, my dear; young people do have tiffs sometimes about all
sorts of trifles, though I should not have thought that Bathurst was
the sort of man to do anything of that sort. I don’t think that he likes
Forster, and does not care to meet him. I fancy that is at the bottom of
it.”
“Very likely,” Isobel said innocently, and changed the subject.
It was dark when they reached the appointed spot, and indeed from the
point where they left the road a native with a torch had run ahead to
show them the way. The tents looked bright; two or three large fires
were burning round them, and the lamps had already been lighted within.
“These tents do look cozy,” Mary Hunter said, as she and Isobel entered
the one prepared for them. “I do wish one always lived under canvas
during the hot weather.”
“They look cool,” Isobel said, “but I don’t suppose they are really as
cool as the bungalows; but they do make them comfortable. Here is the
bathroom all ready, and I am sure we want it after that dusty drive.
Will you have one first, or shall I? We must make haste, for Rumzan said
dinner would be ready in half an hour. Fortunately we shan’t be expected
to do much in the way of dressing.”
The dinner was a cheerful meal, and everyone was in high spirits.
The tiger had killed a cow the day before, and the villagers were
certain that he had retired to a deep nullah round which a careful watch
had been kept all day. Probably he would steal out by night to make a
meal from the carcass of the cow, but it had been arranged that he was
to do this undisturbed, and that the hunt was to take place by daylight.
“It is wonderful how the servants manage everything,” Isobel said. “The
table is just as well arranged as it is at home. People would hardly
believe in England, if they could see us sitting here, that we were only
out on a two days’ picnic. They would be quite content there to rough
it and take their meals sitting on the ground, or anyway they could get
them. It really seems ridiculous having everything like this.”
“There is nothing like making yourself comfortable,” the Doctor said;
“and as the servants have an easy time of it generally, it does them
good to bestir themselves now and then. The expense of one or two extra
bullock carts is nothing, and it makes all the difference in comfort.”
“How far is the nullah from here, Doctor?” Wilson, who could think of
nothing else but the tiger, asked.
“About two miles. It is just as well not to go any nearer. Not that he
would be likely to pay us a visit, but he might take the alarm and shift
his quarters. No, no more wine, Major; we shall want our blood cool in
the morning. Now we will go out to look at the elephants and have a talk
with the mahouts, and find out which of the animals can be most trusted
to stand steady. It is astonishing what a dread most elephants have of
tigers. I was on one once that I was assured would face anything, and
the brute bolted and went through some trees, and I was swept off the
pad and was half an hour before I opened my eyes. It was a mercy I had
not every rib broken. Fortunately I was a lightweight, or I might have
been killed. And I have seen the same sort of thing happen a dozen
times, so we must choose a couple of steady ones, anyhow, for the
ladies.”
For the next hour they strolled about outside. The Doctor cross
questioned the mahouts and told off the elephants for the party; then
there was a talk with the native shikaris and arrangements made for the
beat, and at an early hour all retired to rest. The morning was just
breaking when they were called. Twenty minutes later they assembled to
take a cup of coffee before starting. The elephants were arranged in
front of the tents, and they were just about to mount when a horse was
heard coming at a gallop.
“Wait a moment,” the Major said; “it may be a message of some sort from
the station.” A minute later Bathurst rode in and reined up his horse in
front of the tent.
“Why, Bathurst, what brings you here? Changed your mind at the last
moment, and found you could get away? That’s right; you shall come on
the pad with me.”
“No, I have not come for that, Major; I have brought a dispatch that
arrived at two o’clock this morning. Doolan opened it and came to me,
and asked me to bring it on to you, as I knew the way and where your
camp was to be pitched.”
“Nothing serious, I hope, Bathurst,” the Major said, struck with the
gravity with which Bathurst spoke. “It must be something important, or
Doolan would never have routed you off like that.”
“It is very serious, Major,” Bathurst said, in a low voice. “May I
suggest you had better go into the tent to read it? Some of the servants
understand English.”
“Come in with me,” the Major said, and led the way into the tent, where
the lamps were still burning on the breakfast table, although the light
had broadened out over the sky outside. It was with grave anticipation
of evil that the Major took the paper from its envelope, but his worst
fears were more than verified by the contents.
“My Dear Major: The General has just received a telegram with terrible
news from Meerut. ‘Native troops mutinied, murdered officers, women, and
children, opened jails and burned cantonments, and marched to Delhi.’ It
is reported that there has been a general rising there and the massacre
of all Europeans. Although this is not confirmed, the news is considered
probable. We hear also that the native cavalry at Lucknow have mutinied.
Lawrence telegraphs that he has suppressed it with the European troops
there, and has disarmed the mutineers. I believe that our regiment
will be faithful, but none can be trusted now. I should recommend your
preparing some fortified house to which all Europeans in station can
retreat in case of trouble. Now that they have taken to massacre as well
as mutiny, God knows how it will all end.”
“Good Heavens! who could have dreamt of this?” the Major groaned.
“Massacred their officers, women, and children. All Europeans at Delhi
supposed to have been massacred, and there must be hundreds of them. Can
it be true?”
“The telegram as to Meerut is clearly an official one,” Bathurst said.
“Delhi is as yet but a rumor, but it is too probable that if these
mutineers and jail birds, flushed with success, reached Delhi before the
whites were warned, they would have their own way in the place, as, with
the exception of a few artillerymen at the arsenal, there is not a white
soldier in the place.”
“But there were white troops at Meerut,” the Major said. “What could
they have been doing? However, that is not the question now. We must,
of course, return instantly. Ask the others to come in here, Bathurst.
Don’t tell the girls what has taken place; it will be time enough for
that afterwards. All that is necessary to say is that you have brought
news of troubles at some stations unaffected before, and that I think it
best to return at once.”
The men were standing in a group, wondering what the news could be which
was deemed of such importance that Bathurst should carry it out in the
middle of the night.
“The Major will be glad if you will all go in, gentlemen,” Bathurst
said, as he joined them.
“Are we to go in, Mr. Bathurst?” Miss Hunter asked.
“No, I think not, Miss Hunter; the fact is there have been some troubles
at two or three other places, and the Major is going to hold a sort
of council of war as to whether the hunt had not better be given up. I
rather fancy that they will decide to go back at once. News flies very
fast in India. I think the Major would like that he and his officers
should be back before it is whispered among the Sepoys that the
discontent has not, as we hoped, everywhere ceased.”
“It must be very serious,” Isobel said, “or uncle would never decide to
go back, when all the preparations are made.”
“It would never do, you see, Miss Hannay, for the Commandant and four of
the officers to be away, if the Sepoys should take it into their heads
to refuse to receive cartridges or anything of that sort.”
“You can’t give us any particulars, then, Mr. Bathurst?”
“The note was a very short one, and was partly made up of unconfirmed
rumors. As I only saw it in my capacity of a messenger, I don’t think I
am at liberty to say more than that.”
“What a trouble the Sepoys are,” Mary Hunter said pettishly; “it is too
bad our losing a tiger hunt when we may never have another chance to see
one!”
“That is a very minor trouble, Mary.”
“I don’t think so,” the girl said; “just at present it seems to me to be
very serious.”
At this moment the Doctor put his head out of the tent.
“Will you come in, Bathurst?”
“We have settled, Bathurst,” the Major said, when he entered, “that we
must, of course, go back at once. The Doctor, however, is of opinion
that if, after all the preparations were made, we were to put the tiger
hunt off altogether, it would set the natives talking, and the report
would go through the country like wildfire that some great disaster had
happened. We must go back at once, and Mr. Hunter, having a wife and
daughter there, is anxious to get back, too; but the Doctor urges that
he should go out and kill this tiger. As it is known that you have just
arrived, he says that if you are willing to go with him, it will be
thought that you had come here to join the hunt, and if that comes off,
and the tiger is killed, it does not matter whether two or sixty of us
went out.”
“I shall be quite willing to do so,” said Bathurst, “and I really think
that the Doctor’s advice is good. If, now that you have all arrived upon
the ground, the preparations were canceled, there can be no doubt that
the natives would come to the conclusion that something very serious had
taken place, and it would be all over the place in no time.”
“Thank you, Bathurst. Then we will consider that arranged. Now we will
get the horses in as soon as possible, and be off at once.”
Ten minutes later the buggies were brought round, and the whole party,
with the exception of the Doctor and Bathurst, started for Deennugghur.