Chapter 22

Nicholson knew that his task would not be finished until the bastion was taken. The enemy would exult if it remained even for a day in their hands. So he called on the 1st Fusiliers to charge along the lane, ordering the 75th to rush along the ramparts and carry the position above. The men, tired as they were, gallantly responded. On they went, reached the first gun, overwhelmed the gunners, then dashed on with a cheer to the second. But ere they reached it a storm of shot--musket-balls, grape, canister, round shot, even stones flung by hand--burst upon them. They recoiled. Again they formed up, again charged up the lane, again captured the first gun, which Captain Greville spiked. Once more they dashed forward to the second gun and the bullet-proof screen. Men fell fast, blocking the narrow lane. Major Jacob, of the 1st Fusiliers, and six other officers were struck down, and Captain Greville was withdrawing the men from what he deemed an impossible task.

But at this moment the great voice of Nicholson himself was heard calling on the men to make one more charge and follow him. He rushed to the front, and turned his back for a moment to the enemy, so that his men might see his face and take courage. A shot from the bastion struck him in the back; he reeled and fell. A sergeant caught him, and laid him in one of the recesses below the ramparts. He was taken back to the Kabul gate, and by and by was placed in a dooli and entrusted to native bearers to carry to the field hospital below the Ridge.

Lieutenant Frederick Roberts, an engineer on General Wilson's staff, had been sent into the city to discover the truth of reports carried to him--that Nicholson had fallen, and Hope Grant and Tombs were both dead. As he rode through the Kashmir gate, Lieutenant Roberts saw a dooli by the roadside with a wounded man in it, but no bearers. The lieutenant dismounted to see what he could do. He found that the wounded man was John Nicholson, deserted by the bearers, lying in helpless agony alone. The bearers had run off to plunder. Four men were found to supply their places; a sergeant of the 61st Foot was put in charge of the party, and the dying soldier was carried to Captain Daly's tent on the Ridge.

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH

Eighty to One

Ahmed entered the city with the first column. When, however, Nicholson decided to work along the ramparts and leave Colonel Jones and the second column to push forward into the streets, he ordered Ahmed to act as guide to the colonel. Ahmed led the way through the streets by which he had come on the night when he dropped over the wall. The victorious troops swept them clear of mutineers, but their progress was slow, because the men could not be restrained from plundering as they went.

In due time they reached the great mosque, whence, after waiting vainly for the arrival of the fourth column, Colonel Jones decided to retire to the Begam Bagh. It happened as the troops withdrew, that a determined rush of mutineers down the street in which Dr. Craddock's house was situated, cut off Ahmed and a small group of men from the main body. To force their way through the enemy was impossible without great loss, and Ahmed, perceiving that the little party was in danger of annihilation, led them at the double into the lane that ran behind the doctor's house, to take refuge there until the way was clear. They were only just in time. They scaled the wall of the garden by mounting upon one another's shoulders; and the last four or five were only saved from the mutineers, who came dashing along in pursuit, by the fire of their comrades who had already gained the top of the wall. In the temporary check the last men were hauled up, and dropped safely into the garden.

The group numbered fifteen besides Ahmed, thirteen being sepoys of the 4th Sikh Infantry, and two corporals of the 2nd Fusiliers. It was clear that they would by and by be no better than rats in a trap unless they found shelter in the house, and Ahmed, rapidly explaining to a native sergeant that he knew the place, made a dash with half the party past the fountain to the back door, leaving the rest to deal with any of the enemy who should attempt to drop into the garden as they themselves had done.

Just as he reached the door, happening to glance up at a small window overlooking the garden, he saw the face of Minghal Khan. Next moment he had disappeared. The door was open. Ahmed rushed in, and up the stairs, followed by the men. He reached the landing only to see the darwan leaping down the front staircase. Running along after him, Ahmed looked over. A shot grazed his ear: the darwan had turned at the bottom and fired. Ahmed sprang down five steps at a time, there was a hurry-scurry below, and by the time he arrived at the compound three or four figures were hastening through the front gate, which they shut behind them with a bang.

Ahmed had no idea of pursuing them. He barred the gate, ran back to the men he had left, who had followed him from the house, and went upstairs again, with the intention of passing through the almirah and assuring himself that the doctor was safe. In the surgery he was amazed to see both the doctor and the khansaman, laid on the floor and securely bound. In a moment he cut their bonds.

"Allah is good!" cried the khansaman. "I have even now suffered grievous pangs, and but for thee the sahib would have suffered also."

"How comes this?" asked Ahmed.

"I had taken food to the sahib when Minghal Khan and the darwan came to us with a sepoy: without doubt the darwan had spied me entering the wall. They were armed: the sahib had his pistol, but it is useless striving against fate. We should have been slain, and I bethought myself that the sahibs are in the city, and perchance if we were spared they could save us. While there is life there is hope. And we were bound, and Minghal Khan had us carried here, and demanded to know the place where the sahib's treasure is concealed. Hai! what treasure have we! He had tortured me to loose my tongue, and would have done the same to the sahib but that thou camest. Truly Allah is great!"

"Have we taken the city?" asked the doctor.

"We have entered, sahib, and Nikalsain is here; but there is still much to do, and I heard it said that Reid Sahib has been checked, and the Lahore gate is still to be won."

"Well, then, we must hold this house until the rebels are driven away," said the doctor; "it will be a hard task for us three."

"There are men with me, sahib," said Ahmed. "We make about a score in all."

"Then we can do it. What men are they?"

"Some Sikhs, sahib, and two Englishmen."

"It could not be better. Go and see what can be done to put the house in a state of defence, and come to me here. I am still too weak to do very much, I fear; but I can advise, and the men will obey me."

Ahmed hastened away with the khansaman. In the dining-room they found several large bales of goods ready packed: Minghal had evidently prepared for the inevitable. It was clear, in spite of his professed poverty, that he had managed to amass a good deal of plunder, and he had apparently only delayed with the prospect of adding to his store the treasure which he believed the doctor had concealed in the house. There were two pistols on a shelf: he had not had time to snatch them up as he fled. And in the passage Ahmed discovered a musket and ammunition left behind by one of Minghal's men in the hurry of departure. With these latter Ahmed armed the khansaman, who like most Mohammedans had some knowledge of the gun. The pistols would form an excellent reserve in case of fighting at close quarters.

Ahmed did not suppose that Minghal had gone for good. With three-parts of the city still in the hands of the mutineers there would be no lack of men to help him recover the house that held not only his enemy, but all his property and, as he believed, a hoard of treasure also. Ahmed was considering how best to prepare for a fierce assault when he heard loud shouts from below. Running to the window from which Minghal had looked down on the garden, he saw that several of the enemy had mounted the wall, on the roof of the colonnade, and that some had dropped to the ground on the inner side. But he saw in the same moment that there was no reason for anxiety as to the safety of the back of the house. There was a crowd of about thirty or forty men in the lane outside, but only about half-a-dozen had had the courage to make the escalade of the wall. If the assault had been at all general, the little party inside the garden would have stood no chance; but dropping one by one, and at irregular intervals, within easy reach of the men underneath the colonnade, the besiegers had but a short shrift. Before he could recover himself each man was beset by the man nearest to him, who dashed from beneath the cover of the colonnade and attacked him with his sword. The defenders wisely reserved their ammunition. A man dropping from a height required a fraction of a second to recover himself. In each case, before recovery was possible, one or other of the men had cut his victim down.

Seeing the fate of their companions, the men on the top of the colonnade hesitated to make the jump. They felt themselves, however, secure from attack, and called to their comrades in the lane to join them. A few began to scramble up, but, although the position of the men beneath the colonnade was not visible to the attackers on top, the men themselves could see their enemy through the cracks in the roof where the wood had warped. One of the Englishmen, firing upwards through the roof, disposed of a mutineer, who rolled down the slope of the colonnade into the garden. His comrades, fearing a like fate, hastily vacated the roof and dropped down into the lane, dashing the new-found courage of the men who were about to join them.

Ahmed ran back to the doctor to inform him of what he had seen.

"Post two men at the window, and let them fire whenever a sepoy shows himself," said the doctor.

The khansaman and one of the Sikhs took up their position at the window. Sped by a few well-directed shots, the enemy either evacuated the lane or took shelter immediately beneath the wall, where they were secure.

Meanwhile, as was soon apparent, they had sent off for reinforcements to root out this little island of the Feringhis in the middle of an as yet unconquered locality. The sound of firing could still be heard in the distance, but Ahmed and his companions realized that they were cut off by several hundred yards of streets and houses from Colonel Jones' column, which indeed had by this time probably reached the Begam Bagh, and that the intervening district was without doubt swarming with mutineers. All they could hope to do was to cling to their position until the tide of attack rolled on once more, driving back the rebels, and clearing the way for a sortie. Ahmed would have been even more anxious than he was had he known that Colonel Jones was even then deciding to fall back from the Begam Bagh to a position nearer the walls, where he intended to remain for the night.

The house was square built, slightly higher than the houses surrounding it. On each side there was a more modern residence, detached, and approaching within about twenty feet of it. There was no access to the garden from the front compound except through the house itself.

During the lull which succeeded the first check, the doctor summoned the two English corporals, and told them to consider themselves under his orders.

"All right, your honour," said one of the men. "We're jolly glad to see that one Englishman has been left alive by the Pandies."

"You don't look very strong, sir," said the other, "and don't you put yourself out. We'll give them ruffians what for."

The doctor posted six men in the front compound. There were six in the garden. Three he stationed within the house, so that they could reinforce either the front or the rear, whichever might be the more seriously pressed. Ahmed he kept with him, and when the others had taken up their positions he sent him to the roof to take stock of the surroundings.

In two or three minutes Ahmed had got all the information he required. That the enemy was on the alert he soon found by the shots that whistled about his ears as soon as he was discovered; but by standing a little way back from the parapet he was protected against any musketry fire from below. After a careful scrutiny of his surroundings he hurried below and made his report to the doctor.

"Hazur," he said in conclusion, "we cannot hold the house if the rebels come in sufficient numbers to overcome our men outside. We could not fire on them from the roof, because we should be seen above the parapet, and hit from below; and if we are seen at the windows we shall be marks for the enemy."

"Then we must set about making the house defensible. Can the parapet be loopholed?"

"Yes, sahib; the brickwork is crumbling, and with tools we could easily make loopholes."

"Get a hammer and a chisel, khansaman, and go to the roof with Ahmed Khan. Jaldi karo! Stay, give the three men below tools for making loopholes in the shutters; we may want them by and by."

The khansaman provided one of the men with an auger, and the others with pokers and other kitchen utensils, with which, made red-hot, they could bore holes through the heavy wood of the shutters. Then he followed Ahmed to the roof, where they set to work vigorously to make loopholes in the parapet.

There were still sounds of firing in the distance. At present there was no sign of an attack on the house. Knowing Minghal Khan, Ahmed suspected that he was making quite sure there was no danger of being taken in the rear before attempting an onslaught.

When his work at the parapet was finished, he went down again to the doctor, who sent him to see how the men were getting on with their task at the shutters. Three front windows on the ground floor had already been bored with two loopholes each, and without consulting the doctor he set the men to treat the shutters of the four windows at the back in the same way. The men looked at each other in surprise when he had given this order and gone.

"Who is this Pathan that gives us commands?" said one of them.

"Yea, he speaks even as the sahibs. Shall we do what one of these puffed-up Guides commands us?"

"Not I, for one," said the third man. "The sahib said the front windows; that was his order, given us by the khansaman, who is the sahib's servant. We shall be shamed if we do the bidding of a vile Pathan."

And they laid down their tools and squatted on the floor.

Ahmed meanwhile had hastened to the front door. He found it was made of extremely hard wood and thickly covered with iron studs, forming a sufficiently stout defence against anything short of a battering-ram or a cannon-shot. Coming back through the house to examine the back door and the door leading to the servants' quarters, he noticed the three Sikhs squatting in idleness.

"Dogs," he cried, "did not I say go to the back windows, and do as you did with the front? Why this idleness?"

"We obey the sahibs," said one of the men sulkily.

"Thou son of a dog, take up thy tools at once, or verily thou wilt be sorry."

Ahmed stood over the men, and his voice rang with a tone of command as authoritative as that of their own officers. The Sikh hesitated for a moment, then, to his own surprise, no less than that of his comrades, he took up his tools, rose, and went off slowly to the back of the house.

"You two follow him," said Ahmed.

And the others got up, and went without a word.

Ahmed found that the back doors were slightly made and frail. They would ill sustain a vigorous assault. So he got the doctor to give orders that a quantity of heavy furniture should be collected in the passage leading to them--material for blockading it if the doors were battered down. While perambulating the lower part of the house, he noticed some bales, containing Minghal Khan's possessions, which had been laid against the wall of the compound, in readiness for instant removal. These he carried, with the khansaman's assistance, to the upper part of the house. Then he removed all provisions--a very scanty store--from the servants' quarters, and conveyed the water-pots, filled by the bhisti that morning, to the dining-room. This done, he felt that the garrison was prepared to meet the storm.

But when he returned to the surgery, the doctor gave a further order.

"Find a long plank," he said, "as wide as the stairs--nail two together, if you cannot find one wide enough--and drive nails through it so that their points stand up."

The necessary material was soon found. When it was thickly studded with nails, the doctor bade them make a hole in it, pass a rope through the hole, and tie it to the newel of the staircase. Ahmed guessed the purpose it was designed for; for the present he laid it on its side, so that there was free passage up and down the stairs.

It was a full hour before the attack was resumed. Looking from a window, Ahmed saw the street beyond the compound thronged with rebels, some sepoys, but the majority Irregulars. Ladders were placed against the wall, and the enemy began to swarm up. There was a volley from the defenders collected at the door of the house. Several of the men who had mounted the wall fell back; others, finding themselves unsupported, gave way before the rush of their opponents, who dashed across the compound and thrust their bayonets fiercely upwards. For a moment the top of the wall was clear, but the defenders had fired their pieces, and Ahmed knew that a determined rush by the enemy must swamp the little band. The question was, Would this rush come before the men could reload? They were hard at work charging their muskets. He shouted to the Sikhs in the house to come to the support of their comrades, and then ran to the back to see how things were faring there.

Ahmed was surprised to find things very quiet in that direction. He heard the sound of a pistol-shot from above. The doctor had stationed himself at the back window, which had been partially shuttered, and fired one pistol while the khansaman loaded the other. He was a fine pistol-shot. The wall at the back prevented the mob in the narrow lane from firing at the window. But, as soon as a head showed itself above the wall, the doctor never failed to hit. For a few minutes the mutineers were baffled, but they soon rose to the situation, swarmed into a house on the other side of the lane, beyond pistol-shot, and began to fire at the shuttered window with their muskets. In a minute or two the doctor was forced from his position. A splinter from the woodwork had slightly wounded him; to stay where he was would have been merely to court death.

Once more the enemy in the lane were emboldened to climb the wall and gain the roof of the colonnade. They also swarmed into the gardens of the next houses, and began to mount the wall from three sides. One of the corporals had ordered the men to reserve their fire until the enemy began to leap down into the garden, knowing that half-a-dozen men within were equal to many times their number dropping one by one from the roof of the colonnade. But the situation was now changed. It was not a question of two or three to one, but thirty or forty to one, and a very determined rush by the enemy might cut the men off from the house altogether. Ahmed saw the danger. Rushing across the garden, he called to the Sikhs to make a dash for the doorway. The men instantly obeyed; in the excitement of the moment they did not stop to question who it was that was giving them orders; it was instinctive with them to obey commands delivered in that sharp, decisive way. But the corporal did not understand the words: he only saw the Sikhs rushing back to the house; and he turned on Ahmed and began to ask, in the lurid vernacular of the British soldier, what he meant by interfering. There was no time to answer. The enemy seized this moment to charge. Ahmed with his sword cut down one of the men before he had recovered from his leap: the corporal's bayonet disposed of another. Then the Englishman became alive to the danger, and with Ahmed sprinted across the garden to the house. One of the Sikhs was waiting to slam the door as soon as they got through. Another, just behind, stood with levelled musket, and took a snap-shot at the man immediately behind Ahmed. The mutineer fell, tripping up the man following him, and giving Ahmed the fraction of a second that was necessary to slip in behind the corporal and bar the door. Two other Sikhs at once occupied the loopholes, and in another second or two their fire brought down two of the leading mutineers.

The doctor, meanwhile, had cried to the other men to post themselves at the back windows, the shutters of which also were loopholed, and they too fired among the throng now crowding into the garden from three sides. There were not wanting men of courage among the assailants, and several of them rushed up to the windows with the idea of firing through the loopholes, which were plainly to be seen, if only by the smoke filtering through them; but the inside of the house being higher than the outside, they were unable to reach high enough to get an aim. All they could do was to fire at the shutters, and a scattered volley of bullets thudded upon them. For the most part they embedded themselves in the woodwork. One or two actually penetrated the loopholes, but being fired from below, they failed to hit the men behind, who had retired slightly from the windows to reload.

The doctor shouted to the men to fire alternately, one reloading while the other fired. The mutineers crowding into the garden found themselves exposed to a deadly dropping of bullets of which they themselves could see the fatal results, while they were ignorant of what damage their own fire was doing. There was no cover in the garden except the fountain. Every part of it was commanded from the door or one or other of the windows; the fountain would at best shelter only one or two. They found that every bullet fired by the garrison meant the loss of one of their number. There were several rushes and attempts to batter in the door with the stocks of muskets, or to push the muzzles up through the loopholes, but these always met with the same fate as the first, although one Sikh was badly hit by a splinter.

While the men still kept up their fire, Ahmed rushed through to the front, whence he again heard the din of conflict. There had been another rush up the ladders, met by a fusillade and a charge by the garrison under the British corporal. Again the enemy had been hurled back. Ahmed arrived on the scene just in time to see the last man disappearing from the wall, transfixed by the corporal's bayonet.

Again there was silence both at the back and in front of the house. At the back the crowd of mutineers in the garden had been suddenly seized with panic, their comrades dropping one by one beneath the fire of the garrison without being able to do anything effectual in reply. They had swarmed back over the colonnade, and regained the lane behind or the gardens of the adjacent houses.

Ahmed seized the interval of quiet to hurry up to the doctor, whom he found somewhat shaken by his injury, but perfectly calm. He was, indeed, on the point of descending, to take more direct and effectual command than was possible from the room above.

"I have had a knock," he said, with a smile, "but I think I can manage to crawl down."

"Not so, sahib," said Ahmed. "They are good fighters, the men below, and the English naik is a very good man. But if the sahib would go to the roof perhaps he might call down word of what the Purbiyas are doing. The khansaman and I can help the sahib to go up."

"Chup! I am not so bad as that. Lend me your arm."