“Now do tell me what has happened,” Mabel heard Georgia saying to Fitz, as he drove out of the gate. “I’m sure I am a model soldier’s wife, for Dick suddenly sends me a bare message ordering me to abandon all my household goods and take refuge in the fort, and I do it without asking why! But I must confess I should like to know the reason. Did the durbar break up in disorder, or were you attacked on the way back?”
“There was no durbar at all. The attack came off on the way there. But I say, Mrs North,” said Fitz desperately, anticipating Georgia’s question, “I can’t tell you what happened then, for I wasn’t there. Won’t it do if I recount my own experiences, and you ask the other fellows about the rest of it when we get to the fort?” He left her no time to answer, but went on hurriedly:—
“Yesterday we got as far as the entrance to the Akrab Pass, some way beyond Dera Gul, and camped there for the night. The Major chose the site of the camp himself, in an awfully good position commanding the mouth of the pass, and arranged everything just as if it was war-time. I knew, of course, that he was looking out for treachery of some sort, and I was awfully sick when he told me this morning that I was to stay and do camp-guard with Winlock, and not go with him to the durbar. I yearned horribly to disobey orders, but, you see, he left me certain things to do if—if anything went wrong.” Fitz cleared his throat, muttered that he thought he must have got a cold, and hastened on. “Beltring had come down from Nalapur to meet the Commissioner, as he thought, and the Sardar Abd-ul-Nabi was waiting just inside the pass with an escort of the Amir’s troops. We in camp had nothing to do but kick our heels all day, for the Major left strict orders against going out of sight of the pass. He meant to get through his work by daylight, so as to sleep at the camp to-night, and come back here in the morning, you see. There were no caravans passing, and the place seemed deserted, which we thought a bad sign. But about eleven this morning one of our scouts brought in a small boy, who had come tearing down the pass and asked for the English camp. We had the little chap up before us, and I recognised him as a slave-boy I saw at Dera Gul the day Miss North and I were there. He knew me at once, and began to pour out what he had to say so fast that we could scarcely follow him. It seems that the Hasrat Ali Begum had managed in some way to get an inkling of Bahram Khan’s plot, and she despatched one of her confidential old ladies to warn you and the Major. Unfortunately, the old lady got caught, and Bahram Khan was so enraged with his mother that he promptly packed his whole zenana off to Nalapur, to be out of mischief, I suppose. On the way through the pass this boy, by the Begum’s orders, managed to hide among the rocks when they broke camp, and so escaped with her message. He hoped to catch the Major before he started, but, most unhappily, he durst not ask the only man he met whether he had passed, and he was behind him instead of in front. So he came down the pass, missing him entirely, of course, and warned us instead. The Major’s force was to be attacked in the worst part of the defile, he told us, and as soon as a messenger could reach Dera Gul to say that the attack had taken place, Bahram Khan would set out to raid Alibad. It was an awful dilemma for Winlock and me. It was no use sending after the Major to warn him, for whatever was to happen must have happened by that time, and if we tried to warn the town, Bahram Khan was safe to intercept the messenger and start on his raid at once, and of course we couldn’t evacuate the camp without orders. We decided to strike the tents and get everything ready for a start at any moment, and we posted our best shots on either side of the entrance to the pass, in case the Major’s party should be pursued. Then we waited, and at last the—the force turned up. Thanks to the Major’s suspicions and precautions, the surprise was a good deal of a fizzle. But as I said, I can’t tell you about that. Well, we had to get back here. The enemy were supposed not to be far behind, so we left Beltring and twenty-five men to hold the mouth of the pass at all hazards, and see that no messenger got through until we were safely past Dera Gul. After that it was left to them to seize the moment for retreating on Shah Nawaz, which Haycraft was to evacuate, so that both detachments might return here by the line of the canal. We put our wounded and baggage in the middle, and started—”
“No, wait!” cried Georgia, for hitherto Fitz had spoken so fast that she had found it impossible to get in a word. “Who were the wounded? You said nothing about them before. Was any one killed?”
“I—I really can’t give you any particulars,” returned Fitz, at his wits’ end. “Please let me finish my tale. I’m getting to the most exciting part. It was fearfully thrilling when we had to pass under the very walls of Dera Gul. Of course we were all ready for action at a moment’s notice, but the men were told to ride at ease, and talk if they liked, to give the impression that all was well. I know Winlock and I exchanged the most appalling inanities at the top of our voices, till the Dera Gul people must have thought we were drunk. As we expected, pretty soon there came a hail from the walls, asking who we were, and Ressaldar Badullah Khan, who was nearest, called out that we were coming back from Nalapur without holding the durbar. ‘But what has happened?’ asked the voice from the wall. ‘What should happen, save that the Superintendent Sahib won’t hold the durbar?’ said the Ressaldar, and we went on. Of course they must have been awfully puzzled, for they couldn’t see our wounded in the dark, and the only thing they could do was to send some one off to the pass to find out what had happened. Beltring was to look out for that, and if possible to seize the messenger and get his men away at once, before Bahram Khan could come up and take him in the rear.”
“And I suppose Dick is helping to prepare the fort for defence?” asked Georgia. “There must be a dreadful amount to do.”
“Oh, that reminds me, Miss North,” cried Fitz quickly, turning round to Mabel. “The Commissioner was most anxious to come and fetch you himself, but we pointed out to him that he could do no good, and being so lame, might hinder us a good deal. Excuse me, Mrs North, but I think I must give all my attention to driving just here. I don’t know why the whole population should have turned their possessions out into the street, unless it was to make it awkward for us.”
They were approaching the fort, and the roadway was almost blocked with carts, cattle, household goods, and terrified people. Several vedettes, to whom Winlock gave a countersign, had been passed at various points, and it was evident that the sudden danger had not taken the military authorities, at any rate, by surprise. The space in front of the fort gates was a blaze of light from many torches, and several officers in uniform were resolutely bringing order out of the general chaos. Gangs of coolies, bearing sand-bags and loads of furniture, fuel, provisions, and forage, seemed inextricably mixed up with shrill-voiced women and crying children, ponies, camels, and goats; and it needed a good deal of shouting and some diplomacy, with not a little physical force, to separate the various streams and set them flowing in the right directions. As the dog-cart stopped, Woodworth, the adjutant, came up.
“We want volunteers to help destroy the buildings round the fort,” he said. “You’ll go, Anstruther? What about your servants, Mrs North?”
“There are seven who have come with us, nearly all old soldiers,” said Georgia. “If you will speak to Ismail Bakhsh, who is a host in himself, I will see that their wives and children are safely lodged while they set to work.”