The Warden of the Marches

by Sydney C. Grier

“There are to be no lights, I suppose? Then I would let every man except those in the front rank carry a block of stone. We can get them out of the ruins not far off, and if they are piled up at the sides of the doorway—I’ll show the men how to do it—the door can’t come right down, at any rate. Then, Jehanara has arranged with you that the rest of the force shall advance up the zigzag path at a signal from the gate? The enemy’s fire commands every foot of the way, and we can’t shell them to any purpose at night. But if, instead of climbing up on that side, our main body was making a determined assault with scaling-ladders upon the opposite side of the fortress, where the walls come down to the level, that would distract the attention of the garrison if you found it necessary to retire from the cave. My idea is that as soon as you are well inside, the door will go down, and you will be summoned to surrender. But the door will stick, and you will be able to retire in good order, and form outside. Then, even if the attack did not come off quite at the same moment, you would be prepared to resist the garrison if they charged, and be sheltered against their fire from above. And the best part of the plan,” added Dick cunningly, “is that there is no need to break faith with Jehanara. If she means well by you, everything will go off just as you arranged, and her feelings will not be hurt by the knowledge of my base suspicions.”

“Major North,” said the General, holding out his hand, “I have done you an injustice. The arrangements you suggest seem to obviate all risk, and I shall be glad if you will accompany me, in order to direct the men who will carry the stones. The details of the main attack I will arrange immediately.”

“Then when was the attempt to be made, sir?”

“To-night, of course. Is to be made, if you please.”

“That was a pretty close shave!” muttered Dick to himself, when he was safely outside.

And thus it came to pass that there was yet another night in which Georgia and Flora, unable to sleep, sat together in one of the bleak rooms of the Sarai, and held each other’s hands in an agony of fear and anxiety, while Mabel stole in at intervals from her watch beside Fitz to ask whether there was any news yet. Over and over again the anxious watchers persuaded themselves that they could hear the sound of firing echoed across the miles of desert which separated them from Dera Gul, and on each occasion they assured one another that the idea was absurd. Mrs Hardy came in several times to scold them for sitting up, twice spoiling the effect of her rebukes by administering hot coffee as a corrective, but she knew as well as they did that they could not bring themselves to face the solitude of their own rooms. At last, just as day was breaking, a messenger came from the signal officer at the camp to say that flash-signals of some sort were visible to the eastward, but the mists of the morning made it impossible to read them properly. There was still an hour or so more of weary waiting, and then Dick and Haycraft rode in together, the latter with his arm in a sling. He had been knocked from one of the scaling-ladders by a stone hurled at him, and the bone was broken, but otherwise he was only bruised. And what did even a broken arm signify, when there was victory at last?

“It was just as we thought,” Dick told Georgia. “As soon as we were inside the cave, I saw the door begin to come down—shutting out the stars, don’t you know? and a voice called out to us to surrender. But just when the door ought to have descended with a crash, it made a grating noise instead, and stuck fast, for the stones were piled about four feet high on each side. The enemy saw the dodge in a moment, and opened fire through the holes up above, but as we were all in the dark, it was a pretty wild affair. Two or three were wounded, and from the back of the cave came an awful scream—a woman’s scream. It was that wretched Jehanara, who had tried to escape up the staircase, and was shot down by mistake. So now we shall never know—or rather, the General won’t—whether she was deceived herself, or deceiving us. Then, as we got out of the place, we heard the sound of the attack on the other side, and we raced round to take part in it. Our men were already in at the breach the shells have made, and by the time we got up they were fighting hand to hand inside. We pressed the garrison back from point to point, until we came to the zenana. It seems that Bahram Khan had talked big about killing all his women before the end came, but his plucky old mother didn’t quite see it. She and the rest barricaded themselves in, all except Bahram Khan’s wife Zeynab, and kept him out. The fellow made a great fuss about breaking down the barricade, and went off to find a hammer or pickaxe or something to do it with, but we got there first. The men he had left fought to the last in front of the barricade, and behind it the old Begum held out stoutly until I came up, when she surrendered at discretion. Then we found out from one of our wounded that Bahram Khan and his wife had got away through the cave, with either two or three of his men, so that he is still at large, though the place is in our hands. Of course the regiment is scouring the country for him, and the tribes are all thirsting for the reward that will be offered, but it is a horrid bother.”

“Zeynab will scarcely be the help to him that Jehanara would have been,” said Georgia.

“No, but I don’t like his being loose. I shall get them to post a sentry at the gate here, as well as the Sikh at Burgrave’s door, and none of you must go outside without an escort. Mab mustn’t try any more of her adventurous rides.”

“Why, Dick, there’s no one for her to ride with at present.”