GOING THROUGH THE LAND—FROM NORTH TO SOUTH, FROM EAST TO WEST
Morning dawned upon the ruin of the fort. Where Dost Ali Khan's magazine, the storehouse from which he drew his supplies, had been, there was a wide breach. Outside, English and Sikh soldiers—a detachment from the main army, which was on its way to Cawnpore—were under arms, waiting to rush in with the first rays of daylight. They were exultant, for this stronghold of the rebel chieftain, which was so cleverly hidden away that they had only discovered it by accident, was a refuge and a tower of strength to the mutineers, and without it the cleverest and most influential of their opponents, if he had escaped, would be completely paralysed. It was more than probable, however, that he would himself share in the destruction of the fort, in which case a blow would have been struck whose effects were incalculable.
In the night, and before they were discovered, they had thrown a cordon round the building, to cut off the escape of the garrison, which they had reason to believe was numerous. Hundreds fell with the magazine, while the guns, plied as they had been in the dark, had doubtless done some execution; but they could not suppose that everyone within the walls had been slain, and the complete silence puzzled them.
Fearing an ambush, they set to work cautiously. The officers were to the front as usual, and Bertie Liston was one of the first to leap over the mounds of rubbish that blocked up the breach and to alight within the boundaries of the fort.
His presence at this critical moment must be explained.
When we saw him last he was leaving Gumilcund under the convoy of Subdul Khan, to make the best of his way to Meerut, which, however, he did not reach, having been met at a few leagues distance from the station by a runner in disguise, carrying despatches from the General at Meerut to the General of the army of relief, with a peremptory order to himself to use his utmost diligence to find the army, and to offer his services to the chiefs who, it was rumoured, had lost some of their officers by fever and other casualties.
Nothing, as we shall imagine, could have been more congenial to Bertie, who, ever since he heard the terrible news from Jhansi, had been longing ardently for a brush with the rebels. Helped by Subdul Khan, whose ability and devotion were beyond praise, he succeeded in finding the head quarters of the army. On his way, through a series of accidents, which there is not space to record here, he discovered the whereabouts of Dost Ali Khan's fort, and when a body of troops of all arms were detached to capture it, he was given the command of the cavalry. And so it came about strangely that the first face Tom saw that day was the face of a friend.
All need for disguise being, for the moment, over, he had thrown aside the turban which he habitually wore, and washed the dye from his face, which was fearfully haggard and as pale as death.
With his two servants behind him, he was standing in one of the covered enclosures that still remained intact, when Bertie, walking in advance of his soldiers, with his drawn sword in his right hand, and his left grasping his revolver, marched by. He saw him, recognised him in an instant, and, breaking into an exclamation of surprise, called upon his men to halt.
Tom joined him, smiling sadly. 'I am afraid you will find nothing but ruins here,' he said. 'The few who were left of the garrison escaped.' Then he pointed to his two men. 'They are my servants. They will be safe?'
'Perfectly. I will leave two or three men to guard them in case of mistakes. We are fearfully savage.'
'God knows I can understand that. Come on! I will lead you,' said Tom.
'But how do you come to be here?'
'I came to find Miss Elton. She was taken prisoner.'
'Good God!' cried Bertie. 'You don't mean to tell me—Heavens, man!—what a fright you gave me! A prisoner? Not here, surely?'
'I hope not. I hope not. And yet—good heavens! what am I saying? I know for certain that she came here. I was told, only just before the alarm, that she was sent away—sent away with a soubahdar, who had a grudge against her father. It may be false—God in heaven grant that it is.'
'His name?' said Bertie, his brow darkening.
'Sufder Jung. Do you know anything about him?'
'Only that he was one of General Elton's pets.'
'The General wounded him,' said Tom, 'and he came here, vowing vengeance. I have it from Dost Ali Khan, who allowed him to seize Miss Elton and bring her here. She was one of my Nowgong fugitives—my servant had rescued them. They were within a day's march of Gumilcund. The others came in——' His voice broke.
'Hold up, old man!' said Bertie huskily. 'Do you mean to tell me that Dost Ali Khan gave her up?'
'No; I believe he meant well. He had sent for me. He was making her a bait for my alliance. I could not have given in to that, of course; but I don't think for a moment that he would have hurt her. I can't tell you everything now. It was one of their fiendish intrigues.' As they talked they were going round the fort, where not a soul was to be found but these three men—the Rajah of Gumilcund and his two servants.
'Can the brutes have got away?' said Bertie.
Tom sent for Ganesh, who, he said, knew more of the events of the night than either he or Hoosanee, and, after a little delay, the Brahmin led them to a small inner courtyard, in the centre of which was a dry well. Several of the men who were following them leapt down. They found nothing but dead bodies. The entrance to the subterranean passage, which made a secret exit from the fort, was here, and hundreds had been smothered in their efforts to reach it. That some had escaped was most probable; but whether the chief was amongst them or not could not be determined. Search was made for his body, but it was not found. This was the only damper on an enterprise which had been perfectly successful, and accomplished without the loss of a single life.
The soldiers were now allowed to rest, cook their morning meal, and ransack the ruins for such treasures as might have escaped the destruction that had fallen upon the fort, and Tom, whose story had run through the camp, was invited to the officers' mess. Ganesh and Hoosanee, meanwhile, were taking what rest and refreshment they could, and making arrangements for another start. It was well that they had their wits about them, for Tom, for the moment, was like one dazed. The colonel of the detachment, when he had benevolently tried to enter into conversation with him, congratulating him on his escape, and asking what measures he meant to take to ensure his safe return to Gumilcund, and had received nothing but vague replies, took Bertie aside, and said that something ought to be done for the poor fellow. His mind was evidently a little astray. Bertie had the same fear; had his duty permitted—I have this part of the story from him—he would willingly have joined his unfortunate friend, giving him the benefit of what he considered his own clearer judgment. But this he knew was impossible.
He led him away from the mess table. 'My dear fellow,' he said as firmly as he could, 'you must really tell me what your plans are. Where do you mean to go when you leave this place? To Gumilcund?'
'To Gumilcund! When Grace is wandering Heaven alone knows where!'
'Do you love her?' asked Bertie, hoping to rouse him.
'Love!' burst out the poor fellow, 'that is too poor a word! I—oh, God! there is no word—no word I have ever heard that can tell what I feel. She is everything to me—life, love, hope. I would give myself—I would die in slow tortures in the presence of my enemies, to save her—my darling—one moment's uneasiness. And to think—but I can't think. Thinking kills. I must act, or I must die!'
'But have you any clue?' said Bertie. He was full of the most passionate sympathy, and he dared not give it vent. His unhappy friend must be brought to take a practical view of his position if he was to be saved. 'Couldn't you tell me how you mean to set about the search?' he went on.
'I don't know. Don't ask me. Light will come. My servants are looking for horses. Give me money, like a good fellow—all the money you have. I will return it to you when we meet in Gumilcund. We shall meet'—with a strange smile. 'Yes; don't look at me in that incredulous way. And she will be there, too; and, look here, Captain Liston: if you see the others—the General, and Lady Elton, and Trixy—tell them that I am going through the land—from east to west, from north to south—deserts, jungles, forests. I will leave no stone of it all untrodden, and, sooner or later, with God's good help, I will come upon her—or'—in a terrible whisper—'her murderers!'
'Yes, yes,' said Bertie chokingly. 'But, my dear boy, you mustn't be so vague—you mustn't, really. You won't find her by riding over the country, and most likely you will get killed yourself, which wouldn't suit the book of any of us just now. I have been putting your scheme before the General, you know, and he quite falls in with it—says you are a military genius. We shall want you to help us to work it. Take my advice, and——' He paused. 'The poor fellow doesn't so much as hear me,' he said to himself. 'I wonder——'
But at this moment Hoosanee interrupted them. 'May I have a word with my master?' he said.
At the sound of his voice Tom started up, all his lethargy gone. 'Yes, Hoosanee, I have done with the Sahib,' he said. 'Captain Liston, good-bye. I trust we may meet in Gumilcund.'
And before Bertie could speak another word he had gone.