“Run for your life!”
Hot all over, his fingers tingling and his head ringing—partly dread of the horror and partly a glorious exultation—the boy dropped the lighted candle on the thin trail of powder, and darted from the room as a horde of sepoys rushed in.
CHAPTER IX
Defence of the Commissioner’s House
When Major Munro’s eighty officers and men arrived inside the house of refuge, they found that the few civilians, ladies, and children of Aurungpore had all escaped thereto, having been warned in time. At the first sign of outbreak they had found access to the fort impossible, and had taken refuge in the Commissioner’s house, the largest and strongest in the town, situated within easy reach of all the European bungalows, and close to the fort itself. They were in sore plight when the soldiers forced their way in—another half-hour would have been too late.
From roof, loophole, and sheltered parapet blazed the muskets of the Rajputs, lending their aid to the rifles of the English gentlemen, and the mob drew back, raging furiously, but afraid to strike at close quarters. The sad story was told; dry-eyed but heavy-hearted the residents heard of the murder of their friends. The wounded men were speedily given every possible assistance, and the ladies left nothing undone to alleviate their pain. To tend the sufferers was their first care, but the great-hearted Englishwomen insisted on taking their share in the defence, refusing to leave the posts of danger for the comparative safety of the inner rooms whilst there were rifles and muskets to load and hand to the marksmen.
Greatly to his dismay Munro found it quite impossible to send aid to the little garrison of the fort, the route being blocked by hundreds of fanatical savages. If he should despatch even half his command to break their way through they would be destroyed, and the remaining half would fall an easy prey to the triumphant rebels.
The continued fusillade from the direction of the fort told him that the handful of defenders he had left behind was being hotly assailed, and he sadly feared that he had left them there to die. Bitterly the major regretted his error. Such concentrated fury on the part of the inhabitants had never been anticipated; he had felt sure of clearing the street and bringing the party safely back, and he had made a mistake.
Colonel Woodburn’s wound, though serious, was not dangerous, and before long Ethel was able to leave him for a short time. Whilst the soldiers were breaking their way through the crowd, she had seen her father carried in their midst, and had eyes for none but him. Now she looked around for Ted and could not see him.