“You thought that poor Georgia’s delusion would pass away when the baby was born, but she is as fully convinced as ever that Dick is alive,” she said, with something of triumph.
“I know,” acquiesced the doctor, “and I am disappointed. But the delusion is bound to disappear in course of time—when she sees his grave, if not before. And I’d have you remember, Miss North, that she’s likely only hoping against hope now. Her reason may be assuring her that he’s dead, while her heart fights against the notion. To try to combat this hope of hers would only make her stick to it all the more. Let it alone, and it will fade away naturally.”
Much against her will, Mabel promised to obey. It seemed to her that it was both wrong and cruel to allow such a state of uncertainty to continue; but as the days passed on without any further suggestion that Dick was alive, she began to be satisfied that the delusion was fading from Georgia’s mind.
CHAPTER XVIII.
AN ATTEMPT AT DESERTION.
After their disappointment with regard to the guns, the enemy made no further effort to take the fort by storm. They seemed quite content to substitute a blockade for a siege, but this circumstance did not tend to raise the spirits of the garrison, since it showed that there was as yet no sign of any movement for their relief. Sniping was practised indefatigably on both sides whenever opportunity offered, and a stranger standing on the cleared ground between the fort and General Keeling’s house might have imagined the one and the other alike deserted, so skilful had the occupants become in taking advantage of cover, save when a puff of smoke and the crack of a rifle on the right met with an immediate response in kind from the left. The enemy were not now occupying the opposite bank of the canal in force, but it was a favourite station for their boldest sharp-shooters, who took up their posts under cover of darkness, and from the shelter of rough sangars or dikes of earth, fired at the water-carriers as they clambered up and down to the water-gate with their skins and earthen pots. The great fall in the level of the water gave much encouragement to this form of attack, and it was found necessary to erect a screen of tent-cloth, supported on poles, to protect the steps cut in the wall below the gate. On the rampart above two or three good marksmen were always posted, watching for the moment at which the sniper was forced to betray his presence for an instant, and the post was much coveted. Any duty that promised a little excitement was eagerly welcomed, for the closeness of their quarters and the lack of exercise were telling upon the health and spirits of the garrison. The wounded did not recover as they ought, and the mortality among the native refugees was very heavy. Moreover, the stock of provisions accumulated under difficulties by Colonel Graham and Dick was diminishing with alarming speed. Rations were served out to all with the strictest economy, and Mabel and Flora, observing a daily diminution in the numbers of the horses stabled in the outer court, refrained heroically from any remark on the shape of the joints set before them. The two girls were quite accustomed to a state of siege by this time, had ceased to start at the whirr and ping of a bullet, and took cover as naturally as the oldest trooper in the regiment when they left the shelter of their rooms. As Mabel said one day to Colonel Graham, the strangest thing was the remembrance that they had ever known a time when the siege was not going on.
“And that you will know a time when it is over, I hope?” he responded. “I only wish I saw any chance of our being relieved, or even of being able to cut our way through, but the next move lies undoubtedly with the enemy.”
This move, when it came, was an unexpected one. In the course of a dark night, a scuffle close under the eastern wall became audible to the sentries, who fired immediately in the direction of the sound, to hear in return a scream which was unmistakably a woman’s. The garrison stood to arms, but no attack was made, and no explanation of the mysterious occurrence offered itself. In the morning, however, a white flag appeared in the street next to General Keeling’s house, and when Colonel Graham replied to it from one of the gateway turrets, two unarmed men made their appearance, dragging with them a woman, her clothes and veil torn and blood-stained. Having escorted her into the middle of the cleared space, they left her there, and ran back to shelter, while she sank on her knees and raised one hand in an entreaty for mercy. Despite her agony of fear, however, she kept her veil wrapped closely round her.
“Evidently a pardah woman,” said Colonel Graham to Mr Burgrave, “but what she is doing here I can’t make out.”
He shouted some words of encouragement, and the woman came a little nearer, and made signs that she desired to be admitted into the fort.
“No, no; can’t have that,” cried the Colonel. “You must say what you have to say from where you are.”