But what means that sudden commotion—that loud shrill cheering? The mob is seen to part right and left, the rebel sepoys fling their caps in the air and wave their muskets excitedly as a body of fine, well-set-up men, fierce of aspect, turbaned, and clad in drab uniforms, marches into the courtyard of the fort. Though no word of command is given, the fresh arrivals there halt, fall out, and at once begin to fraternize with the mutineers. Behind the tall men appear a score of much smaller figures, clothed in the same uniform, and these shout and gesticulate more wildly than any.
“The Guides!” gasps Lieutenant Leigh.
“Traitors, by George!” thunders Major Munro, with intense and vehement bitterness. “Traitors!”
A long pause followed. The Britons gazed upon one another with blank, haggard faces. The whole Indian Empire was tumbling down, and none was loyal! Until this moment not a man amongst them but had known some ray of hope, however feeble.
“Are they truly the Guides?” asked one. “Who, then, are the little beggars?” pointing to the rearmost.
“Gurkhas of the Guide Corps,” answered Leigh, no less bitterly. “And their officers have always maintained that Gurkhas can be trusted when all others fail. Well, we live and learn.”
“Aye, we learn,—but not the other,” was Munro’s grim aside.
Momentarily forgetting their predicament, Ted stared with great interest at the short figures and Tartar laces that grinned in fiendish anticipation; for his father had often spoken in terms of the highest praise of these reputedly fearless Himalayan mountaineers, against whom he had fought, and whom he had afterwards led.
“Well, if those are Gurkhas, I don’t think much of ’em,” said the ensign, his critical spirit asserting itself even at this crisis. “Our seventy Rajputs could tackle a hundred of them.”
As for Faiz Talab, his eyes seemed to be starting from his head.