Part 61 (2/2)

If she could once get him into her uncle's room, she would find some method of locking him in, of keeping him out of mischief. For herself, being a woman, the Huzoors were not to be feared.

”Yea! 'tis as well to be near,” she said as she led the way.

And the time drew near also; for the dawn of the 20th of September had broken ere, with the key of the outer door in her bosom, she retired into an inner room, leaving the Moulvie saying his prayers in the other. Already the troops, recovered from their unsteadiness, had carried the Lah.o.r.e gate and were bearing down on the mosque. They found it almost undefended. The circling flight of purple pigeons, which at the first volley flew westward, the sun glistening on their iridescent plumage, was scarcely more swift than the flight of those who attempted a feeble resistance. And now the Palace lay close by.

With it captured, Delhi was taken. Its walls, it is true, rose unharmed, secure as ever, hemming in those few acres of G.o.d's earth from the march of time; but they were strangely silent. Only now and again a puff of white smoke and an unavailing roar told that someone, who cared not even for success, remained within.

So powder bags were brought. Home of the Engineers sent for, that he might light the fuse which gave entry to the last stronghold; for there was no hurry now. No racing now under hailstorms, and over tightropes. Calmly, quietly, the fuse was lit, the gate s.h.i.+vered to atoms, and the long red tunnel with the gleam of sunlight at its end lay before the men, who entered it with a cheer. Then, here and there rose guttural Arabic texts, ending in a groan. Here and there the clash of arms. But not enough to rouse Hafzan, who, long ere this, had fallen asleep after her wakeful night. It needed a touch on her shoulder for that, and the Moulvie's eager voice in her ear.

”The key, woman! The key--give it! I need the key.”

Half-dazed by sleep, deceived by the silence, she put her hand mechanically to her bosom. His followed hers; he had what he sought, and was off. She sprang to her feet, recognizing some danger, and followed him.

”He is mad! He is mad!” she cried, as her halting steps lingered behind the tall white figure which made straight for a crowd of soldiers gathered round the little tank. There were other soldiers here, there, everywhere in the rose-red arcades around the sun-lit court. Soldiers with dark faces and white ones seeking victims, seeking plunder. But these in the center were all white men, and they were standing, as men stand to look at a holy shrine, upon the place where, as the spies had told them, English women and children had been murdered.

So toward them, while curses were in all hearts and on some lips, came the tall white figure with its arms outspread, its wild eyes aflame.

”O G.o.d of Might and Right! Give judgment now, give judgment now.”

The cry rolled and echoed through the arcades to alien ears even as other cries.

”He is mad--he saved them--he is mad!” gasped the maimed woman behind; but her cry seemed no different to those unheeding ears.

The tall white figure lay on its face, half a dozen bayonets in its back, and half a dozen more were after Hafzan.

”Stick him! Stick him! A man in disguise. Remember the women and children. Stick the coward!”

She fled shrieking--shrill, feminine shrieks; but the men's blood was up. They could not hear, they would not hear; and yet the awkwardness of that flying figure made them laugh horribly.

”Don't 'ustle 'im! Give 'im time! There's plenty o' run in 'im yet, mates. Lord! 'e'd get first prize at Lillie Bridge 'e would.”

Someone else, however, had got it at Harrow not a year before, and was after the reckless crew. Almost too late--not quite. Hafzan, run to earth against a red wall, felt something on her back, and gave a wild yell. But it was only a boy's hand.

”My G.o.d! sir, I've stuck you!” faltered a voice behind, as a man stood rigid, arrested in mid-thrust.

”You d----d fool!” said the boy. ”Couldn't you hear it was a woman?

I'll--I'll have you shot. Oh, hang it all! Drag the creature away, someone. Get out, do!”

For Hafzan, as he stood stanching the blood from the slight wound, had fallen at his feet and was kissing them frantically.

But even that indignity was forgotten as the stained handkerchief answered the flutter of something which at that moment caught the breeze above him.

It was the English flag.

The men, forgetting everything else, cheered themselves hoa.r.s.e--cheered again when an orderly rode past waving a slip of paper sent back to the General with the laconic report:

”Blown open the gates! Got the Palace!”

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