Vellenaux A Novel - Edmund William Forrest (best book club books of all time txt) 📗
- Author: Edmund William Forrest
Book online «Vellenaux A Novel - Edmund William Forrest (best book club books of all time txt) 📗». Author Edmund William Forrest
Utterance.
There Was Now No Need To Urge Them On, For They At Once Realized The
Horrors Of The Position In Which The Collector And His Party Were Now
Placed. Exclamations Of Anger, And Vows Of Bitter Vengeance Burst From
The Lips Of All, As They, With Paling Cheek, And Flashing Eye, Their
Teeth Clenched Fiercely Together, Listened To The Appaling Tale Of The
Half Frantic Girl Before Them.
"They Are But Three To One, The Pack Of Mutinous Scoundrels, And Cannot
Resist Our Charge Five Minutes, And Must Go Down Before Well-Tried
Sabres," Cried Carlton, Springing Into His Saddle, And Taking The Lead,
Saying, As He Did So, "Point Out The Way We Should Take, My Good Girl,
And What Courage, Brave Hearts, And Trusty Swords Can Effect, Shall Be
Done To Rescue Your Friends From The Terrible Fate Which, Doubtless,
Awaits Them."
"When You Reach That Single Tree On The Crest Of Yonder Hill,"
Indicating With Her Right Hand The Direction To Be Taken, "You Will Come
In Sight Of The Place, Where This Villainous Outrage Has Been
Committed; Your Own Judgment Will Then Tell You What Is Best To Be
Done," She Replied, Evidently Strengthened And Refreshed By The Wine She
Had Taken, And The Comforting Assurance Held Out To Her By Arthur And
His Companions. These Words Had Scarcely Passed Her Lips When, Applying
The Spur Vigorously, The Whole Party, With One Exception, Dashed Off In
The Direction Indicated. Captain Crosby Of The Artillery, Who Had Not
Started With The Rest, Feeling Somewhat Anxious For The Poor Girl's
Safety--Alone As She Would Be Shortly In That Dense Jungle, For Every
Sabre Would Be Needed In The Coming Onslaught--Approaching Her, Said
Kindly And Gently, "And You; What Is To Become Of You? What Will You Do,
Or Where Can You Go?" "Oh, Do Not Think Of Me," She Replied, "I Can
Retrace My Steps The Way I Came, Alone And Unassisted," Moving A Few
Steps In That Direction. "But Stay One Moment," Said Crosby; "Take This
It May Assist You In Clearing A Pathway Through The Thicket And
Underbrush," Handing Her, As He Spoke, His Long Hunting Knife. Raising
Her Beautiful Eyes To His, With A Look Of Thankfulness, She Accepted The
Weapon. In Another Instant, The Ringing Of Horses' Hoofs, Now Growing
Fainter In The Distance, Told Her That Help Was Hastening On To Where
Help Was Most Required.
Chapter 13 Pg 80
The Spot Where The Collector And His Party Had Been Surprised And
Captured, Was On The High Road, Midway Between The Khandish Ghaut And
The Large And Populous Town Of Runjetpoora, The Inhabitants Of Which,
With The Exception Of Their Begum, Or Princess, And A Few Of Her
Immediate Followers, Had Thus Far Remained Faithful To British Rule, And
To Which Place He Was Now Returning, After Making A Tour Of Inspection
Through The Districts, Which Inspection Consisted In Surveying And
Valuing The Crops While Growing, The Cattle And Other Properties Of
Those Residing Within His Jurisdiction, So That Taxes Might Be Levied On
Each Individual According To Their Wealth And Substance, During The
Current Year.
The Baggage Escort And Principal Servants Had Been Sent On In Advance.
Chapter 13 Pg 81This The Mutineers Were, Doubtless, Aware Of, Or Counted On As Being
Likely To Be The Case, Therefore Little Opposition Was To Be Expected,
And So Suddenly Did They Sweep Down Upon Them That The Little Party Were
Surrounded And Overpowered Ere They Could Seize Their Weapons To Defend
Themselves. All Were Made Prisoners Save One, Mrs. De Mello, A Handsome
Three-Quarter Caste, The Youthful Bride Of The Collector's Clerk Or
First Assistant, Who Had Alighted From Her Palkee To Gather Some Wild
Flowers That Grew On The Road Side, A Short Time Prior To The Appearance
Of The Mutineers, And From Where She Stood Witnessed The Attack.
Terrified Beyond Measure At Her Dangerous Proximity To The Ruffians,
She Fled For Safety Into The Depths Of The Jungle, And So Escaped.
The Carriage And Bullock Games Were Drawn To An Open Space Some Little
Distance Into The Jungle, The Intervening Bushes Screening It To A
Considerable Extent From The Road. The Collector And His Clerks Were
Then Brutally Stripped Of Their Clothing, And, Having Taken Possession
Of Their Money And Other Valuables, The Wretches Bound Them, Spread
Eagle Fashion, To The Wheels Of The Vehicles. The Terrified Women Were
Next Dragged Forth, With More Indignity And Even Greater Brutality, And
Secured In A Similar Manner, And In Such A Position That Their Tortures
Might Be Witnessed By Their Helpless Husbands. The Children, With The
Exception Of The Collector's Daughter, A Bright, Golden Haired Girl Of
Some Ten Summers, Who Had Clung Convulsively To Her Mother, Were Thrown
Together Into A Small Hollow In The Ground About The Centre Of The
Place, They Being Too Young To Make Any Opposition, The Black Devils
Forming A Complete Semi-Circle Round Their Intended Victims.
The First Scene Of The Bloody Drama They Proposed To Enact, To Satisfy
Their Devilish Thirst For The Blood Of The Unfortunates, Who Had Thus
Fallen Into Their Hands, Was Opened By A Tall, Burly Ruffian Bending
Over, Seizing One Of The Children, Hurling It Into The Air, And Yelling
With An Awful Imprecation While So Doing, That He Would Wager A Gold
Mohur To Five Rupees, That He Could, With His Tulwa, Strike Off The
Child's Right Arm At The Elbow Without Touching Any Other Part Of The
Body. This Was Accepted At Once By Half-A-Dozen Voices; The Wretch
Immediately Raised His Tulwa And, As The Infant Descended, Made A Sharp,
Quick, Upper Cut, And Ere It Reached The Ground Its Little Arm Was
Disjointed, As Though By The Knife Of An Experienced Surgeon. A Groan Of
Horror Burst From The Lips Of The Agonized Parents, And A Convulsive
Shudder Ran Through The Remainder Of The Unhappy Party; But This Past
Unheeded By Their Captors, Being Drowned By The Yells Of Fiendish
Delight And Approval That Broke Forth From The Throats Of These Hell
Hounds, As The Mutilated Body Of The Child Lay Wreathing In Agony At
Their Feet, Absorbing For The Moment All Other Feeling. "I Will Double
The Stakes," Cried Another, "That I Take Off The Head Of A Second Of
These Young Imps Close To The Shoulder Without Making Wound Or Scar On
Any Other Part." "Done, And Done Again!" Shouted Several Voices,
Throwing Up Their Weapons In The Air, And Re-Catching Them Again, So
Delighted Were They At The Idea Of Another Spectacle So Much In Unison
With Their Blood-Thirsty And Relentless Passions. A Powerful Ruffian Now
Dismounted, And Catching Up A Second Babe, A Pretty Little Thing
Scarcely Two Years Old, Hurled It With His Utmost Strength High Into The
Air. On Gaining Its Greatest Altitude, It Turned Completely, And Was
Descending, Head Downwards. When Within Six Feet Of The Ground, The
Brutal Villain, With One Lightning Stroke Of His Tulwa, Severed The Head
From Its Shoulders, Amid The Shouts And Gesticulations Of The Assembled
Miscreants. By Some, The Wretch Was Pronounced A Winner, But On
Examining The Body, The Skin Of One Shoulder Was Found To Be Grazed Or
Cut. Many Maintained It Was Done By The Sword; Others Asserted That It
Was Caused By Falling On A Stone Or Some Such Substance. The Dispute Ran
High, And Possible Might Have Come To Blows, But For The Interference Of
Another Of The Party, Who Appeared To Be A Sort Of Leader Among Them,
Shouting Out "Come! No More Of This Fooling; Too Much Time Has Been
Chapter 13 Pg 82Already Wasted On This Tumahsha. Give The Cursed Feringees A Volley From
Your Carbines, Loot The Garries, And Then Make Off With All Speed, Or
The Cursed Kaffirs May Get Wind Of The Affair And Follow In Our Track."
"Shumsodeen Is Right," Called Out Another. "There Is Both Truth And
Reason In What He Says. But There Must Be No Firing, It Might Attract
The Notice Of Any Straggler From The Camps Of Those Dogs Of Kaffirs, And
Bring Their Infernal Dragoons Down Upon Us. No! Cut The Throats Of The
Men, And As There Are But Twenty Of Us, And Only Five Of These Women,
Tell Off One Of Them To Each Four Of Us, And Let Us Begone, For We Must
Put The Broad Plain, At The Foot Of The Khandish Ghaut, Between Us And
This Place Ere Night Fall, And On Our Camping For The Night, Each Four
Can Decide What Is To Be Done With Their Prize." This Suggestion Was
Received With Applause, And They Immediately Prepared To Act Upon It.
Already Two Or Three Had Dismounted And Drawn Their Creeses To Slit The
Throats Of Their Male Prisoners, When A Youth, About Eighteen, Son Of
The Fellow Called Shumsodeen, Cried Out, "Do As You Please With The
Women Among Yourselves, But I Will Have Yonder Curly Headed Cutcha
Butchee For My Prize, Come What May," And He Took A Few Steps In The
Direction Of The Collector's Daughter, Who Was Still Clinging To Her
Parent For Protection; But Ere He Reached Her, A Loud, Clear Voice At No
Great Distance Rang Out, "Fire! Gentlemen, And Charge!" Then Came From
Between The Leaves And Bushes A Withering Volley Of Bullets From Rifle
And Revolver, Striking Down The Youth, And Emptying Three Saddles, The
Riders Falling Lifeless To The Ground. In Another Instant The Branches
Parted, And Arthur Carlton, With His Six Companions, Cleared The Low
Brushwood, And Sword In Hand Dashed Into The Centre Of The Ruffianly
Group.
Although Taken Completely By Surprise--For They Had Not Calculated Upon
Being Interfered With, Especially At So Early A Period Of Their
Proceedings Or By So Formidable A Foe--The Mutineers Instantly Prepared
To Give Their Unexpected Assailants A Fierce And Bloody Reception. They
Fought Frantically With A Courage Born Of Desperation, Well Knowing That
To Cut Through Their Foes And Escape By Flight Was Their Only Chance;
For Should They Not Perish By The Sword In The Present Contest, A
Halter, Or To Be Blown To Fragments From The Cannon's Mouth, Would Be
Their Doom If Made Prisoners, Consequently They Rained Down Their Blows
Frantically, And Made Several Desperate
Comments (0)