CHAPTER XXXVII. HAIDEE Ō STAR.
We must for the time being leave the fortunes of Flora Meredith and Zeemit to follow those of some of the other characters who have figured prominently in this story.
When Haidee and Walter Gordon left the traveller’s rest, where the duel had taken place, they pursued their journey without further adventure, until they reached the neighbourhood of Delhi. Here the greatest caution had to be exercised, for thousands of natives, flushed with success and maddened with drink, were prowling about, committing the most diabolical outrages on every one they met.
Three or four attempts were made by Haidee and her companion to gain entrance to the city, but each attempt failed. On the last occasion success was nearly achieved, when a Sepoy, who had been in the King’s service for some years, recognised Haidee. An alarm was instantly raised, and Gordon had to defend himself and companion against fearful odds. He was fortunate enough to secure a sword from the body of a man whom he had shot, and with this weapon—in the use of which he was well skilled—he was enabled to cut his way out.
After this encounter it was evident that any further attempt to enter the city would only result in disaster; and so the travellers determined to make their way over to the British lines. Here they were well received, and the history of their adventures listened to with intense interest.
Gordon’s failure to get into the city caused him much sorrow. He remembered the promise he had made to Mrs. Harper that he would either rescue her sister or perish in the attempt.
Although he had repeatedly been near doing the latter, the former seemed very far from being accomplished.
He made the most desperate efforts to obtain some information of her—he sought, but always without success; and at length he began to despair of ever meeting her again.
He grew desperate. He joined his countrymen in night attacks; he went down with little bands of men to examine the gates and walls of the city; and, although he saw hundreds of his comrades fall around him, he lived. He appeared almost to bear a charmed life—neither sword nor bullet reached him; and his splendid constitution enabled him to withstand the deadly heat—and the still more deadly malaria, which committed fearful havoc amongst the British.
The siege promised to be a protracted one. The English were few in number; their guns were small, their ammunition limited; and yet, with these drawbacks to contend against, there were some most brilliant passages of arms and deeds of daring performed before Delhi, deeds that, although they have never been chronicled, entitle the actors in them to be placed on England’s grand list of heroes.