Without a moment’s hesitation Gordon jumped from his horse, and, seizing the murderer—who was a little thin man—in his powerful grip, he threw him, almost before he could realise his position, across his horse’s neck, and, springing up behind, galloped away amidst the shouts of the astonished natives, a few of whom sent random shots after the flying horseman, but without effect.
Mezza struggled frantically to free himself from his captor; but he was like a pigmy in the hands of a Goliath. Gordon had twisted his hand in the man’s body-cloth, and held him in a vice-like grasp. When he reached the Mall he met a body of artillerymen, who were returning from the Delhi road, after having chased the mutineers for some miles.
“I have captured a murderer,” cried Gordon, as he hurried up. “His hands are yet red with the blood of his victim. Shooting were too good for such a cur. A rope, men—a rope!”
When the cowardly Mezza heard this he whined for mercy, begging that he might be shot instead of hanged; for death by the rope precludes a Mohammedan from all hope of heaven. But his prayer was unheeded. A rope was speedily produced, and thrown over the limb of a banyan tree; a running noose was placed round the neck of the villain Mezza, who rent the air with his howls. A dozen hands grasped the slack of the rope, and instantly the coward’s body was dangling in the morning breeze. It was a summary act of vengeance, as daring as it was just.[2]
Walter rode back to the barracks in company with the men, who were enthusiastic in their praise of Gordon’s bold deed. When he reached Harper’s bungalow, he was shocked to hear that Mrs. Harper was very ill.
“If I fall, you will be a brother to my wife?” were the last words of his friend, as he parted from him the previous night on the Delhi road.
And, with these words ringing in his ears, he sought the presence of Mrs. Harper. She was deathly pale, and terribly ill, but she sprang towards him, and clutched his hand.
“God be praised, Walter, that you have come!” she cried. “But my husband, my sister, my mother—where are they?”
“You must not distress yourself like this,” he answered evasively, and trying to lead her back to the couch.