Gil the Gunner - George Manville Fenn (people reading books .TXT) 📗
- Author: George Manville Fenn
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He looked very hard and stern as he drew a long deep breath.
“They are in God’s hands,” he said.
“Not dead, father?” I cried wildly.
“Heaven forbid, boy!” he said excitedly. “I was summoned away with all who could be spared, to form a junction with the —nth and Brace’s troop. My orders were to take command, break up any bands which were collecting, and to keep an eye on Ny Deen, who has been a perfect firebrand through the country. I left as strong a garrison as I could at Nussoor, the place fairly provisioned and armed, and all the women and children are shut up in the Residency. But since I have been away with my little force I have had no communication with the place. We have been completely cut off, and it has been impossible to send or bring news.”
“Then you know nothing of Nussoor?”
“Nothing.”
“But have you sent messengers?”
“At least a dozen, Gil, my boy.”
“How far is it?”
“About sixty miles from here—perhaps seventy. Once this maharajah is taken, we shall go to the relief of the place.”
Just then there was a loud shouting, and my father sent an orderly for news; but the cause of the noise was announced directly.
The fire was gaining ground, and there was a possibility of its reaching the palace.
My father, who had thrown himself upon the cushions to snatch a few minutes’ rest, sprang up.
“Come, Gil,” he said, “you had better keep by me now, till your troop comes back. But have you no other clothes?”
“None,” I said, “and I look like a enemy.”
“No, no. A friendly native,” said my father, laughing, as he hurried out to where a number of buildings were blazing furiously, and a company of the regiment were busily engaged in trying to extinguish the flames.
A few short, sharp orders were given, the men ceased their hopeless toil, and a sapper sergeant and a dozen men set to work to finish the task.
This they did by making a way amongst the people who had not fled. A quantity of powder was obtained from the rajah’s magazine, and in less than half an hour, bags were planted here and there, several houses blown up, and all chance of the fire spreading was at an end.
As the night wore on, with every one but the pickets snatching some rest, there were different little incidents full of excitement, officer after officer coming in to make his report to my father. First there was the lancer officer who had not succeeded in capturing Ny Deen, who, with a very strong body of men, had entered a forest many miles away, and so evaded further pursuit.
Next came Brace, to announce that he had been too late to do any good in the darkness; but he had the news to impart that Ny Deen and his flying men had formed a conjunction with the little army which had been in pursuit of our men when the sham flight had been carried out.
Toward morning, this information was endorsed by the arrival of the foot regiment with the half of our horse artillery troop, and the lancers, who had all performed their duty with very little loss.
“Lie down and sleep, Gil,” said my father. “We shall have hard work to-morrow.”
“But suppose the rajah comes back to-night to try and surprise us?”
“He will not,” said my father quietly. “He would, but he will not get his men up to the work. Hallo! what’s this?”
For at that moment a white figure entered the room, looking perfectly clean and neat.
“Dost!” I exclaimed.
“Who is Dost?” said my father.
“My servant.”
He had come to announce that a supper was spread in the outer room, and upon our going, there stood Salaman and three of his assistants, all of whom Dost had hunted out, and ordered to set to work.
“Very tempting,” said my father; “but is all this safe?”
“On my head be it, sahib,” said Dost, respectfully. “There is no poison in the meat.”
The supper, which was partaken of by a dozen officers as well, being finished, we returned, after going the rounds, to my sleeping-chamber.
“Go to sleep, Gil, boy,” said my father. “Our pickets will give plenty of notice if Ny Deen comes.”
But I could not sleep for thinking of Brace, who had not been to the supper, and I wanted to make my position clear before my mind would be at rest.
The strange silence that reigned in the palace, the dying out of the fierce glare of the fire, and utter exhaustion, at last weighed down my eyelids, and I dropped into an uneasy sleep, but only to dream about escaping over the roofs with Dost, being captured, and then watching the terrible assault and carrying of the rajah’s house. From that I wandered into the meeting with my father, and fancied that I was going with him to Nussoor, where my mother and sister would not recognise me because Brace had been there first and told them I was a miserable renegade who had gone over to the rebels, and slain women and children with a tulwar whose hilt and sheath were covered with jewels.
Oh dear, what nonsense one does dream when one’s brain gets into a fevered state.
I was calling Ny Deen to witness to my perfect innocence, for he was somehow there at Nussoor, when my father suddenly said—
“It is of no use, Gil. You may as well get up.”
I started awake to see that his grey, worn face was bent down over me, and found that he was holding my hand.
“You had better rouse up, and have a bath, lad,” he said kindly. “Your sleep is doing you no good.”
“Oh, what a horrible muddle of a dream,” I exclaimed, as I sprang to my feet.
“You should have undressed, my lad. You are bathed in perspiration.”
Dost came in just then with coffee borne by Salaman, and I turned to him directly.
“How did you escape?” I cried.
“I was beaten down, sahib, and I managed to crawl away. I was not much hurt,” he added, with a smile.
“I am glad,” I cried; and ten minutes later I was out in the court with my father, listening to the arrangements being made; and soon after I was audience to a little council of war in the rajah’s principal room, where it was arranged that two strong companies of the other foot regiment should garrison the palace, and hold it while a troop of lancers stayed back to help preserve order in the town.
An hour later, they were forming a marching column to go out and give battle to the rajah and his force, which lay, according to spies, ten miles away, holding a patch of forest beyond the swift river which ran from there to this town.
“Which will you do, Gil?” said my father; “come with me, or stay with the major who is in command here?”
“I want to go back to my troop,” I said sharply; and as I spoke, Brace, who had before met me that morning, came in looking very careworn, and with his uniform almost in rags.
“Ah, well,” said my father; “here is your captain.”
I hesitated for a moment, and then walked across to Brace, who moved away to one of the windows.
“You wish to speak to me, sir?” he said coldly.
“Of course I do,” I cried passionately; “why are you so ready to condemn me unheard?”
“Say what you wish to say; we march in five minutes,” he replied.
I could not speak, for the hot sensation of indignation which burned within me.
“You are silent,” he said, with a contemptuous shrug of his shoulders. “Well, I am not surprised. I was making every effort possible, as soon as I heard through spies that you were alive, to rescue you; but when—”
“Well, when what?” I said indignantly.
“Since you take that tone, sir,” he retorted, “when I had the news brought to me that you were perfectly unhurt, and had accepted service with the rajah as his chief officer of artillery, why then of course I gave you up.”
“Who told you that?” I said hotly.
“One of the spies I sent in,” he replied coldly.
“It was not true.”
“Not true?” said Brace, bitterly. “Your appearance belies your words, sir. Why, were you not occupying rooms in the rajah’s palace?”
“Yes; as a prisoner,” I said angrily.
Brace laughed mockingly.
“A prisoner in a newly designed artillery uniform, and wearing a magnificent sword and belts, evidently presented by the rajah, I did not know Ny Deen treated his prisoners so well; I thought he murdered them at once.”
I tried to speak, but for some moments no words would come, and it was he who spoke first.
“Well,” he said, “have you anything to say?”
“Yes,” I said; “I want to come back into the troop. Can I have a horse?”
“I have no means of looking after prisoners, sir,” he said. “You can only join your troop as a captured rebel against your queen.”
I turned away, and found myself directly after face to face with Haynes and Doctor Danby; but as I went up, the former turned his back and walked away, while the doctor blew out his cheeks and looked very fierce at me.
“Doctor,” I said, holding out my hand, but he did not take it.
I laughed bitterly, thinking that they would all apologise to me some day.
“Brace thinks I have not been wounded,” I said, signing to him to accompany me into another room.
His whole manner changed in the instant, and he was looking at me with interest.
“Eh? wounded?” he cried. “Let’s see. Ah, head. Humph! Only a bad crack. Healing all right. Put on your iron pot again, and don’t let it fret the place.”
“Oh yes; that’s all right,” I said; “but my arm: shall I ever get the full use of it again?”
“Arm? Let’s see.”
I removed the loose tunic, and he turned up the delicate silk shirt I wore, to become wrapt at once in the interest of his profession, as he examined the wound carefully.
“Brace says you have not been hurt, does he?” cried the doctor. “Tell him to mind his guns, and not talk about what he does not understand. Why, it’s a beautiful wound, my dear boy—a splendid cut. A little more draw in the cut, and the budmash who did it would have lopped it clean off. Here, who was your surgeon?”
I told him.
“Then he is a precious clever fellow, Vincent, and I should like to know him. By George, sir, he has saved your limb. Get back it’s use? Oh yes, with care. Why, my dear fellow, I should have been proud of saving an arm like that. Here, let me help you on with your dandy jacket. So you would be Ny Deen’s artillery general, eh?”
I only gave him a look.
“Not right, boy; but I suppose you could not help yourself. There, I must go.”
We went back into the other room, where Brace, and nearly all the officers, had left.
“Father,” I said, “Captain Brace will not have me back. Can I come with you as a sort of aide-de-camp?”
“Of course. Yes, my boy; but try and keep out of danger.”
The next minute we were following the column out over the bridge, the head wing already raising a long cloud of dust, the horse artillery rattling away in front, and the lancers off scouting in front, and sending out flankers, to take care that no approach was made on either side of the flying column.
By my father’s orders, a magnificent horse had been brought from the rajah’s stables, and, mounted upon this, though I felt very sore about the treatment I had received, I was getting into excellent spirits; and as I was not to be a gunner, I was quite content to ride on in my dashing uniform, though I saw the cavalry and infantry officers exchange smiles.
It was very early yet, and the plain was quite deserted, while the hot
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