Part 12 (1/2)

This accident caused the rest of us to take more care. Nevertheless, we managed to get off a good volley before the enemy could arrive as far as the wall, wounding several. The rest wavered, and would, perhaps, have fled but for the action of their leader, a tall, fine man, having a great scymetar in his hand, with which he struck his men violently on the shoulders to urge them forward. Seeing them resume their rush at our position, I looked round at my own men, and to my disgust found several preparing to desert their places and retire further back.

”Stop!” I shouted angrily. ”Let us show these black villains we are not afraid of them! Fix bayonets! Forward! Charge!”

With these words I leaped over the wall and ran at the enemy, followed by my whole party, except one man, who actually threw down his piece and fled, not stopping till he reached the fort. But he need not have done this, for had he stood a moment he would have seen the whole party of Moors break and fly without waiting to close with us, so much were they terrified by the way in which we sprang over the wall to come at them. And this is, indeed, the nature of all the natives of Indostan--to give way instantly that they meet an enemy who is more bent on fighting than they are themselves.

The only person to stand his ground was the leader of the party, who waited for us to come up, and then, singling me out, aimed a blow at me with his scymetar. Up to this moment I had been too busy to observe his face, and my rage knew no bounds when I discovered that I had to do with my renegade kinsman himself, who, it appears, had been searching for me from the very beginning of the battle. How it would now have gone between us I cannot say, for several of my men closing in round us almost immediately, Rupert saw his danger and ran off, and my duty to defend the rope-walk forbade me from following.

For the rest of that day we were not much disturbed, except by the continual pattering of bullets, which seemed to come from all quarters of the compa.s.s. When night came, being anxious to learn how the siege had progressed in other quarters, I sent a messenger to the fort, who brought back word that the enemy had made no very great impression so far, but that everything was in such a state of confusion and dismay at the headquarters that it was impossible we could hold out much longer.

Not to dwell on these particulars, the next day saw the end of this unhappy affair. Early in the forenoon the Moors made a very hot attack on the battery at the far end of our rope-walk, and at the same time a fresh party, headed by my wicked cousin, a.s.sailed our position. I restrained my men from discharging their muskets till the Indians were within a few paces of us, with the result that we did great execution, nearly a dozen of them falling. The rest fell back for a moment, but Gurney urging them on, they rushed up and made a desperate attempt to clamber over the wall.

While we were hard at work keeping them off with our bayonets, I heard a tremendous crash and shouting in the rear, from the point where the battery was placed. This noise seemed greatly to encourage our a.s.sailants, several of whom managed to get over the wall and engage in hand to hand conflicts with the men under me. Nevertheless, I stirred up my fellows to continue their resistance, and myself beat back two Moors, one of whom I ran through the body with my bayonet. So absorbed was I that I did not observe the approach of a young ensign from the battery, who came running along the rope-walk, shouting out--

”Fall back! fall back! The battery is abandoned to the enemy, and they will cut off your retreat.”

At this the men with me began to slacken their exertions, and some fairly took to their heels. However, I had just caught sight of Rupert advancing towards me and did not feel inclined to budge.

”Come back, you fool!” shouted the little ensign, pale and breathless.

”We are beaten, don't you hear?”

I turned my head and scowled at him.

”You seem to be beaten, sir,” I said. ”For my part, I am very comfortable where I am, and intend to go on fighting.”

With these words I turned to defend myself from Rupert, who was coming at me eagerly enough, as it seemed. The ensign fled without further parley, and I believe saved his life. So also did most of my companions, though two others were badly wounded, and unable to stir.

For my part I was resolved to sell my life dearly, but this privilege was denied me. For Gurney, as soon as he saw how the land lay, and that I was left there alone, instantly drew back and ordered his men to take me a prisoner, which, being by this time about thirty or forty against one, they effected, whether I would or not.

My cousin's exultation was very great when he thus had me for the second time in his power.

”Now, Master Athelstane,” he cried, ”we shall see whether you get off as lightly as you did at Gheriah. You are not likely, I think, to be rescued by a fleet this time. But perhaps you will be glad that I should take you without more ado before the Nabob. He has a high opinion of the English, and no doubt will be glad to take you into his service and give you many handsome rewards.”

”Rupert Gurney,” I answered, ”in mocking at one who is your prisoner, owing to no valour of yours, you merely show yourself to be a coward as well as a traitor. I care nothing for what the Nabob may do to me; and this I know, that I would rather he put me to death outright than enjoy his favour by such services as yours.”

”Thank you, cousin,” says Rupert, who was able to keep his temper now that he had the better of me. ”I am glad to learn that you will not seek to undermine my credit with his Highness. But now, if you are sufficiently rested, let us proceed.”

Speaking these mocking words, he made his men bind my wrists together with a cord, and conducted me out of the streets of the town towards Surajah Dowlah's camp.

The tent of the Nabob was a fine great pavilion of yellow and crimson cloth. All about the entrance stood his guards, very handsomely dressed, with silver and gold ornaments, and armed with all sorts of curious weapons, some of which I had not seen before. Inside, when we were presently admitted, the spectacle was still more striking. The Nabob sat on a high cus.h.i.+on, called the musnud, placed on a das which was raised several feet above the ground. On the das beside him stood three of his princ.i.p.al courtiers, in silk robes and turbans incrusted with gems, while others of inferior rank stood below the steps of the das. A slave beat the air with a fan of peac.o.c.k's feathers over the Nabob's head.

I gazed with great curiosity and awe upon this young prince, who was now making his name terrible through Bengal. I was amazed to see that he was extremely young, scarce older than myself, with a face, I think, the handsomest of any Indian's I ever saw: yet his face was marred, and his youthfulness made unnatural by the ugly traces of his pa.s.sions. His skin appeared coa.r.s.e and blotched, his lips were thick and purple-coloured, and his teeth--an unusual thing among Moors--very black and dirty, when he spoke. He lay back somewhat on his throne, with his chin leaning on his breast and his heavy eyes turned to the ground. In spite of the waving of the fan, the heat seemed to oppress him; or else it was the weight of his turban, for he pa.s.sed his hand over his brow every now and then as if he would have lifted it off.

His fingers, I noticed, were much enc.u.mbered with rings, besides which he wore bracelets, and ear-rings in his ears. But when he lifted his eyes from the floor and looked at me, I was appalled by the expression in them, which was not that of common ferocity, but rather dreadful despair, like a lost soul that is goaded on to a.s.suage its own pangs by the torture of others.

”Who is this dog?” he asked in a husky, soddened tone, as I was brought up to the foot of his das.

”It is one of the ungrateful wretches who have dared to resist the slaves of your sublime Highness,” was the answer. Rupert had come in with me, so as to take the credit of my capture, but the conversation with the Nabob was carried on by one of the Indians, who seemed to be the lieutenant of the party.

”Is he one of the English?” demanded Surajah, casting an angry glance at me.

”Your exalted wisdom has said the word. Undoubtedly he belongs to that vile nation, whom the breath of your anger has even now destroyed.”