Part 74 (1/2)
”The dead Wazir's sword,” said d.i.c.k.
”Yes,” said the captain; ”the Rajah's present. I know it well. But for this stroke of fate it would have been reddened with his master's blood.”
”Take it,” said d.i.c.k.
”No, no,” replied the officer. ”You won it on the field of battle, and it is yours.”
He drew back with a smile, and once more the weapon was conveyed to the wagon.
In a very short time the captain's messengers came galloping back at the head of fifty hors.e.m.e.n, who charged down nearly to the guns, and were halted almost as well as a troop of ordinary cavalry, and then sat up in line, smiling and proud of the hearty cheer with which they were received.
It was directly after that their captain asked for a couple of artillery-men to guide his people to where the Wazir fell.
”Yes,” said Hulton after a few words with his brother-officers; ”but I have a word to say, sir. Your men have been drilled by English officers, and they must behave in war like Englishmen. We cannot stand by and see such a barbarous deed done as you propose. The Wazir was an enemy, but he was a great man and a brave soldier after all. I will send a gun-carriage and its team. Let the Wazir's body be brought back into the town with all respect.”
The captain bowed and rode off without a word.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO.
A CONFESSION.
It was drawing near to sundown when the head of the retiring troops filed on to the bridge and crossed the orange-tinted, flas.h.i.+ng river.
Swift messengers had preceded them at a gallop, bearing their captain's message to his master, the Rajah--the news of the safety of the artillery troop and the Wazir's defeat and death.
Consequently the bridge and streets were lined with troops and people, through whom the English and their glittering escort rode, the gun-carriage, with its dead burden, and its guard of artillery-men with drawn sabres, riveting every eye.
They were received in utter silence, not a murmur rising. Only the sound of trampling horse and rumbling gun and wagon wheels was heard.
The long line filed on right away to the front of the Rajah's palace, where the young prince stood waiting, surrounded by his people; and when the gun-carriage with its ghastly burden was drawn up at the foot of the steps, the Rajah came slowly down and stood gazing for a few minutes at his great enemy's face, before turning and bowing coldly to the English officers, who had dismounted.
”Gentlemen,” he said, ”it was not my will that you were attacked. I am glad that you are safe.”
”And we are glad, sir,” said Hulton, ”that we can show you how high the honour of the English stands.”
The Rajah gave him a stern look.
”Mr Darrell,” continued Hulton, ”you have something to give back to his highness.”
d.i.c.k stepped eagerly forward to place the silken bag, bursting with jewels, in the Rajah's hands.
”Hah!” he exclaimed excitedly. ”For the Ranee's sake I am glad you have brought them back. But it was a vile thing for an English _gentleman_ to do,” he added scornfully.
d.i.c.k smiled in his face.
”Hear all first, sir,” he said; and in a few words he told him Sergeant Stubbs's tale.
The Rajah's eyes flashed with eagerness.
”Yes--yes,” he cried; ”I know the priest is missing. Send--send at once. No, no; we must go and see.”