"The white sahib does justice, pure justice," he said solemnly, as he caressed his grizzled beard. "You have brought this upon yourselves, and but for his action you would have brought worse. Fools, all of you!"—he swung round, and shouted his words of scorn so that all could hear—"Fools! to imagine that the tigers outside who have set the country aflame, who have fired villages by the score, so that the sky was lit up at night, and who have slain men, women, and children on every side, would spare you when there was loot to be had! Are you mad that you believe in such empty promises? These robbers would but save the English sahib for the torture, and having taken his guiding hand from you would have battered in the gate and cut the throats of every one. Fools and dogs! You deserve to die, every one of you, and his highness, the sahib, is merciful when he selects but two. Give me the pistols, and I will carry out this execution, that all may see and believe that I too have no pity for such as these."
He staggered up to Mulha and reached out his hand for the weapon, and there was little doubt that he would have shot his two servants without hesitation. However, the lesson had gone home, and Owen felt that he could now with safety to himself show a little clemency. The men were cowed, and of all the garrison the two poor wretches grovelling on the ground were the least likely to prove mutinous in the future.
"They have had their lesson, and I think we might spare them," he said to Mulha in English. "Besides, we want every man for the defence. I will speak to them."
Walking slowly across the square, with Mulha and the old native at his heels, he halted a few feet from the unhappy couple and ordered them to rise.
"An Englishman does not love useless bloodshed," he said sternly, "and though your lives are forfeit, and I should be justified in shooting you, I will show you that men of my race are merciful. I suspend the sentence till this action is over, and it will depend on yourselves as to whether I spare you then. Fight well and you shall live. Show sign of wavering and I will execute you without mercy. As to you others," he turned and addressed the men on the walls and in the yard, "you have had your warning, and your chief has shown you the folly of listening to robbers who have no conscience, and to whom a vow is nothing. Go to your posts, and remember that death awaits us all if the horsemen break in."
There was a loud murmur of applause on all sides, while the peons salaamed abjectly to him. Then they took up their weapons and went back to their places, a different light shining in their eyes.
"They will fight to the bitter end now, sahib," said the old man. "They are but humble creatures, apt to be easily led astray. But they are grateful for your mercy, and they respect men such as you, who can face odds so calmly. Give your orders, sahib. There will no longer be any thought of mutiny."
Five minutes later there was a shout from one of the men above, and Owen at once ran up to the top of the wall. He was greeted with a shower of bullets, while the crackle of musketry broke out all along that face of the fort. Standing on the parapet he looked down at the enemy, to find that those who had advanced on foot had crept to within less than a hundred yards, where they had placed themselves under cover, some paces separating each of the men. And from this position they were able to command the gateway and the top of the wall. Indeed, hardly had he appeared when the shots rang out more frequently, and some dozen bullets crashed against the dried mud wall at his feet, or hurtled past him with the loud hum made by a missile of large calibre. One went a little aside of its mark, and striking a peon who had ventured to look over the wall, killed him instantly. Owen at once leaped on to the pathway below, and bent low to obtain shelter.