The Young Rajah

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“I am much obliged to you for the compliment,” answered Cochût; “but I must leave that honour to you. I am unable to run fast, and should prefer securing the horses.”

Cochût was so positive, that at length Balkishen, who calculated that the task of setting fire to the slow match might be the least dangerous, undertook it. Afraid of creeping out by daylight, they were unable to ascertain what was taking place in the fort above them; but they calculated that the most propitious time for putting their nefarious project into execution would be just before daybreak.

At length the time arrived. Balkishen had prepared a long slow match.

“Now, my friend,” he said, “do you and Bikoo creep out and secure three horses, and I will light the slow match.”

Khan Cochût, who was unusually brave when any wicked deed was to be done, silently made his way out of the vault through a door which led into a narrow passage, and from this into an open court. Knowing that he might meet with opposition from some of the syces in charge of the horses, he held a pistol in his hand. A few threatening words, he thought, would induce them to keep silence. He was surprised to find that the dawn had already broken. He hesitated a minute; but recollecting that Balkishen would by this time have set fire to the slow match, he boldly stepped out from behind the wall which concealed him, closely followed by Bikoo. As he did so, he found himself face to face with a powerful-looking black slave conducting an elephant across the yard. The slave looked at him for an instant, and, pronouncing his name, asked him where he was going. Instead of replying, he pointed his pistol at the black’s head, expecting to intimidate him. The next instant his weapon was knocked out of his hand; and the slave, seizing him by the throat, exclaimed, “You are the traitor who carried off the young ranee. You must come with me to the rajah, and tell him what you have been doing here.”

“I’ll come, my friend, willingly,” exclaimed Cochût; “only take me out of the fort. You don’t know what is going to happen. You and I and the elephant may be blown into atoms in a few minutes. Take me out of the fort,—take me out of the fort! Quick! Quick!”

“That’s where I am going to take you,” answered Sambro; for he was the black slave. “Come along, my friend; come along.”

At that moment casting his eyes on Bikoo, who stood trembling near by, he made a sign to the elephant, which immediately wound its trunk round the slave’s body, and walked behind Sambro and the khan. To the surprise of the latter, he found the gates open, and saw a number of elephants and a large party of foot and horse winding along the road. He and his fellow-conspirator, not being aware of the custom of English troops to perform their marches during the cooler hours of the day—that is to say, in the latter part of the day and early in the morning—had not calculated on the possibility of their prey escaping them. Still, apparently, some of the troops had not left the fort; and he could only hope that those he wished to destroy were still there. He therefore turned many an anxious glance back at the fort, and kept urging Sambro to move faster.

Meanwhile, Balkishen having waited till he thought his accomplice would have been able to secure the horses, set fire to the train, and then hurried away to join him. On ascending the steps, however, his foot slipped and down he fell. In vain he shouted to Khan Cochût and Bikoo to come and help him. The slave was too far off to hear his master’s voice. The match went on burning, approaching the fatal barrel with fearful rapidity. In vain Balkishen endeavoured to rise. He had dislocated his ankle, or otherwise injured it. Again and again he shrieked out. Though unable to stand, he crawled up the steps. To save his life, he must have run faster than he had ever before done. In his imagination he pictured the match not an inch from the barrel. In a few seconds the fire would touch the powder, and all would be over.

Major Molony had mounted his horse, and the sepoys having moved on, the European troop had just fallen in outside the fort, and were beginning to march, when suddenly an awful roar was heard, and a vast sheet of flame ascended from the middle of the fort. The major, clapping spurs into his horse’s flanks and dashing forward, ordered his men to run for their lives. But the warning came too late, for many of the poor fellows were struck down. Though pieces of stone and huge masses of timber fell around on every side, the gallant major escaped uninjured, as did happily the larger portion of his men; and, as he rode forward to meet Burnett, who came galloping up, he passed Sambro, dragging on Khan Cochût, and the elephant carrying the slave Bikoo. Sambro explained the way in which he had captured the khan and his companion, and described their suspicious conduct. Burnett ordered him to give them in charge of a party of sepoys, who were directed on no account to let them escape.