CHAPTER XX.
WHICH DESCRIBES A STRATEGIC RETREAT.
_From Mrs Fraser to Miss Amelia Turnor._
Culnah, _June ye_ 15_th._
I have amused myself not a little, my dear friend, during this last few days, in picturing the manner in which my Amelia would receive the astonishing news contained in my last letter, which I was so eager to place in her hands that I writ it in scraps, as the time offered, at Moidapore, and despatched it the night of last Saturday (the 11th), by a _cossid_ that was carrying an epistle from Mr Watts to Colonel Clive, and called at the hunting-lodge for any private letters the gentlemen might wish to send. ’Tis true I have been inclined to repent of this precipitancy, for since arriving at the army we have heard a rumour that the fellow, being pursued by _decoyts_ or highway robbers, lost in his flight some of the missives with which he had been entrusted. Still, I can’t bring myself to believe that the epistle in which I acquainted my dear girl of all the incidents (whether alarming, affecting, or comical) of my marriage, and of the misunderstanding that, but for the interposition of good Dr Dacre, might have wrecked for ever my happiness with my dear Mr Fraser, could be the one of all the rest to go astray. Should it prove to have been thus ill-advised, I fear my Amelia must be the sufferer, for I could not bring myself to write that letter again.
At Moidapore, which is a country-house situated about one _coss_, or rather over two miles, to the south of Cossimbuzar, we spent in all five days, a period during which I was apparently as much a prisoner as when in Sinzaun’s house, but with how great a difference! Carried into the place rolled up in a bundle of mattresses (believe me, my dear, I could have imagined myself again in the Black Hole, such was the heat and the want of air on my journey), I had allotted to me the _Ginanah_, or women’s part of the house, with an agreeable small garden on which it looked; and here I remained without my presence being so much as suspected by any of the domestics, with the exception of the gentlemen’s body-servants, who, being honest fellows, and continually employed about the house, were admitted into the secret. Of the anxious kindness shown me by Mr Fraser I need not speak, for the generosity of his mind is abundantly testified by the history I gave you of our first quarrel, if quarrel it may be called, which was so productive in misery at the time, but yet has something droll in it. The consideration of the other two gentlemen displayed itself in the most engaging manner, as my Amelia will perceive when I tell her that I had not to resent a single free remark from Mr Ranger, and that Dr Dacre was so obliging as to translate for me on the spot all the quotations from the ancient authors that he happened to employ in his discourse. What can I say more? As long as our stay lasted, my spouse and Mr Ranger occupied themselves during the morning and evening principally in hunting, which was necessary to give colour to their removal to the place; and your Sylvia found plenty to do in cutting out and making up from the stout cotton cloth of the country a riding-dress for herself, which Mr Watts had warned her she might need at any moment; while Dr Dacre, pursuing his studies with the most philosophical composure in the world, was so polite as to read aloud to her occasionally certain extracts from the work he is preparing on the relation of the Sanskerreet to the classical tongues, to cheer her labours.
During this blessed period we were not left entirely without news from the outer world, for Mr Watts despatched a messenger to us on some pretext or other once a day. The first of his messages was that which awoke in your foolish Sylvia’s bosom all the apprehension which her Fraser misread so unfortunately. It acquainted us that Sinzaun had accosted him that day in a very affable style at the Durbar, asking his pardon for Moonloll’s attempted invasion of the night before, and saying he was certain the female who had escaped was not at the Agency, for he had found a clue to her presence in a different part of the city, and expected to recover her immediately. To this Mr Watts had added: “I can’t doubt but this complaisant address was designed to throw me off my guard, to the end that Monsieur Sinzaun, who has satisfied himself that Mrs Fraser was not of the party that rid to Moidapore, may find opportunity to introduce his spies into this house. His bribing some of the servants is merely a matter of time, and when by this means he has discovered that the lady en’t here, he will divine that we have succeeded in overreaching him, and will turn his attention to Moidapore. When that happens, gentlemen, look to yourselves.”
On the day after this alarming letter came a second to say that Aume-beg, an officer of the Buckshy Meer Jaffier, with whom Mr Watts has covenanted to turn traitor to the Nabob, was returned from Calcutta, whither he had gone to convey the treaty between his master and the British, bringing the news that the secret of the alliance had got abroad, and was the common talk of the soldiers at that place and Chandernagore. The wicked old Gentoo, Omy Chund, of whom my Amelia has heard before, having played a leading part in obtaining the treaty, had become alarmed that his advantage was not sufficiently regarded in it, but his apprehensions were pacified (I fear, by what Mr Fraser hints to me, in some not over honourable manner), and he was content to do no more than watch over his interests by accompanying Colonel Clive and his army when they marched against Muxadavad. Since this might take place any day, Meer Jaffier had sent to warn Mr Watts to make his escape, but the good gentleman was resolved to maintain his position until the last extremity, and, if possible, until he had permission from Colonel Clive to leave it. All this time the Nabob and Meer Jaffier, shut up in their respective castles within the city, were making preparations, the one for defence and t’other for attack, and exchanging such bloodthirsty menaces as might well terrify those who heard as well as those who received them.
Last Monday was the day on which our fears arrived at a climax, and our fortunes at a crisis. As soon as the heat of the day was over, Mr Ranger, who was gone to the stables to tell the grooms to have the horses ready for going hunting that evening, found an old woman of one of the gipsy tribes in the compound. On his tossing her the piece of money for which she begged, the crone requested to see his hand, and told him his fortune so accurately as regards the past, and so flatteringly as regards the future, that he was most extravagantly delighted, and carried the old creature to the house, where he summoned Mr Fraser and Dr Dacre, who submitted their hands to her inspection with an equally agreeable result. Mr Ranger’s kind concern for my entertainment next caused him to suggest to Mr Fraser that he should bring the old woman into the Ginanah, that she might tell my fortune also. Always ready to consult my pleasure, and grown now somewhat secure through our continued safety, Mr Fraser came to propose the visit to me, suggesting that I should wrap myself in my Moorish veil, so that the sorceress might not know me to be a European. The notion of admitting this stranger did not commend itself to me, but seeing my spouse so eager, and attributing my reluctance to a foolish shyness springing from my long seclusion, I begged of him to bring her in. I could not doubt her possession of the powers to which she pretended when, after examining my hand very minutely, she informed me that I had of late passed through many trials, hinting not obscurely at their nature, and that I had been married only a few weeks, perhaps even days. To test her further, Mr Fraser asked her whether I had any enemies, to which she made answer that my safety was menaced by a very great person, but that I might rest easy, for his plots against me should not prosper. To this she added further prophecies, such as awoke in Mr Fraser an extraordinary delight, and he carried her out in great good humour. Returning to me, he remarked on the woman’s having contrived to bite the coin he gave her, in order to test its goodness, although she appeared to possess no teeth to speak of. “I observed the marks,” said he.
“Sir,” I cried, a frightful conviction seizing me, “the woman was Misery in a disguise, and with her teeth blackened.”
“What! the hag that betrayed my beloved girl to Sinzaun?” cried Mr Fraser, catching up his sword, and ran out, calling to Mr Ranger to accompany him. But although they searched high and low, and questioned the servants closely, they could find no trace of the sorceress, and returned disappointed, cursing their own credulity.
“How will my dearest life forgive me for bringing her into this new peril?” said my spouse, with the kindest, most melancholy air imaginable. “But at least the hag prophesied the downfall of her own schemes,” he added, seeking to cheer me.
“’Twas but to throw us off our guard, I fear, sir. Relieved from dread of Sinzaun, she looks that we shall grow careless. But, oh, dear sir,” and I catched hold of Mr Fraser’s two hands, “if we are indeed exposed to that wicked person’s attacks, let me alone be the sacrifice. Believe me, ’twould add infinitely to my affliction to know that I had endangered others.”
“I fear, Mrs Fraser,” says my spouse very solemnly, “you forget sometimes that you’re married. How otherwise could you coldly propose that I would resign my wife to that lawless villain? Or perhaps you are good enough to intimate that you prefer him to me?”
“Oh, sir, sir!” I cried; and Mr Fraser embraced me with the most obliging tenderness.
“My foolish girl knows now what I’ll think if I hear her say that again,” he said, and went away to consult with Mr Ranger on plans of defence. But as it chanced, their valour proved unnecessary; for their council was interrupted with the commotion caused by the arrival of a palanqueen, out of which stepped Mr Watts, very cheerful and sedate, while among the servants attending on him was Mirza Shaw Buzbeg, riding a very fine horse of his own. The palanqueen and bearers Mr Watts sent back to Cossimbuzar, saying that he was going hunting with the gentlemen, and would carry them thither with him for supper, which (as he bade them remind the cooks) must be on the table without fail at the hour he had named. Coming in then among us, and rubbing his hands very complacently--
“Come,” he said, “the hour is arrived, gentlemen, and Surajah Dowlah’s knell has begun to toll. Meer Jaffier sent to me this afternoon to entreat that I would leave the city, since a rumour had reached the Nabob that Colonel Clive was advancing from Calcutta as far as Chandernagore with his troops. You’ll guess that I was not catched unprepared, for I think ’twould be scarce kind in me to permit Surajah Dowlah to add to his crimes by compassing all our deaths. Leaving the city house in my palanqueen, I betook myself to Cossimbuzar, as I have done pretty often of late on pretence of business, and ordered the servants there to have supper ready against the time I should bring you back with me, gentlemen; but I fear that supper will be cold indeed before we return to eat it. Pack up your falbalas, madam; you have prepared an equestrian habit as I recommended you, I hope? To horse in half an hour, gentlemen! The beasts are in good condition, I trust?”
“Sure, sir,” I heard Dr Dacre say, as I returned into my own apartment, “you can’t intend to ride the whole distance to Chandernagore? Have you forgot we have a female of our party? Mr Fraser consulted me as to your intentions, and I assured him that you was but proposing to ride as far as some point on the river where we might obtain boats. You won’t contradict me, I hope?”
“Why, look ye here, doctor,” cried Mr Watts, “no man knows better than I do that the length of the journey and the extreme heat of the season will make this adventure of ours excessively fatiguing and not a little dangerous, but our lives are at stake. One of my reasons for lingering on in the city longer was that I was in hopes of hearing from Colonel Clive that he desired our retreat, and had provided boats to meet us on the way. But since he han’t chose to be so considerate, we can only trust that the rumour which has alarmed the Nabob is true, and that we shall find the army on the march to Muxadavad. The Colonel knows our danger, for Aume-beg tells me that it has several times been reported in Calcutta that I had been seen slain, and my head set on a pole, and I don’t doubt but he’ll help us if he can. As for the lady, if I know anything of her, she’ll share our hardships without whining or peevishness, and prefer ’em to the alternative of remaining here. And pray, gentlemen, do me the favour to get ready at once. I may be pursued even now.”
The words were not out of Mr Watts’ lips when the other gentlemen scattered each to his apartment, and Mr Fraser, lifting the _antiporta_ of reeds through which I had heard all their conversation, came to me.
“My incomparable girl must show the stuff she’s made of to-night,” he said, with as great an air of cheerfulness as he could command. “We will have a long hard ride, but I know she’ll do her best to support it for her Fraser’s sake.”
“Indeed, dear sir, I’ll endeavour not to disappoint you,” I said, the tears coming into my eyes at the kind and flattering style in which he spoke. Truly, my dear, I can conceive nothing that would grieve me more than to disappoint the dear gentleman in any particular, though I fear I shall never attain to the high ideal he has so obligingly formed of me. My Amelia would, I am convinced, discover a perpetual fund of amusement in the mutual dread which Mr Fraser and I entertain of losing each other’s good opinion. I must tell her that so many years spent on shipboard have rendered my spouse an adept in what he prefers to call _making things fast_. His apartment at the Agency made me laugh, for everything that could by any means be packed up, put away, rolled up or hung up, had been so treated, until the place looked as bare as my hand. Observing my surprise, Mr Fraser told me that he liked to have things shipshape; and when I asked him whether he anticipated a flood, in which the whole house might sail gaily away, he looked at me as though I had displayed a design to attack his nation. It needs a woman, my dear, to diffuse that air of elegant disorder without which the finest apartment has an uninhabited air. To our sex alone does it belong to be easy without being untidy; for if men dispose things neatly they become also stiff. But seeing that Mr Fraser piques himself on his neatness, I allow him to do as he pleases at present, and to devise all manner of expedients for stowing everything away, until even the water-jar is furnished with a sort of rack on the wall. And here at Moidapore, when I had put on my riding-dress, he showed me a device of his by which my little bundle of clothes (containing my only gown, Amelia) might serve me for a cushion when I rode behind him, and was so pleased with his contrivance that I could not find it in my heart to rebuke his ingenuity by asking him what he thought the gown would look like when I wore it next. En’t I a pattern wife, my dear?
“Alas, alas!” cried Mr Ranger, when I joined with the rest of the party, “sure the shade of good Mr Addison must wander distressed to-night. His fairest disciple has forsook him, and adopted the equestrian habit he detested.”
This was said because I was forced to complete my riding-dress with a laced hat and undress frock of Mr Fraser’s, suiting very well with my skirt, which is of a dark blue colour, but giving me (I can’t deny) something of the air of the young ladies rebuked by Mr Spectator for aping men. Indeed, I think I should figure very passably in Hyde Park, unless the mode has altered since I left England.
“Don’t tease the lady, sir,” says Mr Watts. “She has acted like a woman of sense in dressing herself so as to attract as little attention as possible to our party. She might pass for a man at a very short distance.”
If this was said to comfort me it failed of its effect, but I said nothing as we walked out through the garden to a spot remote from the servants’ quarters, where the horses were waiting, each with its groom, called a _syce_, who can keep pace with his beast for several hours, even when the speed is very great. The Tartar, who had seen to the security of all the straps and buckles, was already mounted, and several dogkeepers, holding greyhounds in leashes, were present to give our evasion the air of a simple hunting-party. Having mounted (Mr Fraser had devised a sort of side-saddle for me, with the aid of a stirrup fastened over a peg) we rode out gently to the southward for some miles, feigning to be very eager in the search for antelopes or game of any kind, but displaying the utmost care not to fatigue the horses. Mr Ranger seemed to find this leisurely progress very wearisome, for he began presently to rally Mr Fraser on his appearance in the saddle, diverting himself with various odd comparisons respecting sailors on horseback. This mockery I should have found very annoying had I believed it to be well grounded, but Mr Fraser was accustomed to riding in his early youth, and has never neglected the accomplishment when on shore, so that he acquits himself with as much elegance as any gentleman need exhibit, and was able to endure Mr Ranger’s raillery with the greatest complaisance. The young gentleman was so good-humoured as not to turn his attention to me, or I should have been less happy than my spouse, not having mounted a horse for over a year, but riding gently over level ground I found myself easy enough. Having started on our ride when it wanted about an hour to sunset, we had gone over six miles before darkness began to come on, which happens very suddenly in these countries, and Mr Watts drew rein at the summit of a slight eminence.
“See here,” he said to the dogkeepers, “we don’t seem to discover any game, so ’tis scarce worth while to keep the dogs out longer. Take ’em back to Moidapore at once. The gentlemen and I will ride quietly round by Cossimbuzar, and sup there before returning, and we’ll hope for better luck another evening.”
The dogkeepers obeying without any reluctance (for the Indians have a great fear of the darkness, both on account of wild beasts and of evil spirits), Mr Watts called upon us to follow him, and rid smartly down the further side of the rise.
“A moment back,” he said, “before it was grown so dark, I catched sight of two men coming from the south, and if they en’t wandering _juggies_[20.01] they’re _cossids_.”
We came upon the men before long, for it seemed that they had perceived our figures against the sky upon the hill-top, and directed their steps towards us. One of them was known to Mr Watts, who cried out to him to say where he had left Colonel Clive, to which he replied that ’twas at Chandernagore, but that he was only halting there for the night on his march to Muxadavad. This news served to raise all our spirits, which the _cossid_ observing, he increased the effect by delivering to Mr Watts a letter which he had carried concealed in the folds of his turbant (for so scanty is the clothing of these swift messengers that they have no other place in which to deposit the missives with which they are charged), and which caused our leader infinite delight.
“Good!” he cried. “Here’s the Colonel’s letter desiring me to quit Muxadavad and join him with all possible speed. He will send forward boats with a military escort to the point where the Jelingeer[20.02] River meets this from Cossimbuzar, which will cut a fine slice off our journey, and he looks to have reached Culnah before we meet him.”
Bidding the _cossids_ continue their journey to the factory and refresh themselves there, Mr Watts saw them out of sight and then turned to us.
“Now, my good friends, our real work is to begin. Madam, allow me to assist you to dismount. Mr Fraser will put his saddle on your horse, and you’ll find it best to ride behind him. Mirza Shaw will lead t’other nag, and you can change to it again half-way. Are your pistols charged, gentlemen, and your swords loose in the scabbards? We may have to fight our way to-night--indeed it’s scarce probable we shall escape without a tussle with the blackfellows--and in such a case all will hang on our being able to ride ’em down before they see how few we are.”
Almost as soon as Mr Watts had finished speaking, the saddles had been changed and Mr Fraser was mounted again, when Mr Ranger helped me to spring up behind him, and we started afresh, moving cautiously at first, but soon quitting the road and striking to the left. Here the country for a prodigious distance is uninhabited, and covered with thickets of an extraordinary denseness, along the skirt of which we rode at the utmost speed of which our beasts were capable, still maintaining a southerly direction. My dear, I have no inordinate desire, I hope, to establish myself as a heroine, nor to indulge in any extravagant descriptions of that night’s sufferings, but since I contrived at the moment to refrain from any expression of the miseries I endured, in order not to incommode my kind protectors further, I may, perhaps, be permitted to confide them to the faithful bosom of my Amelia. Oh, my dear girl, the heat, the dust, the rough paces of the horse when we passed over a tract of hard parched ground, the thirst, the constant alarms, and worst of all, the sounds! Do you know what it is to _hear_ the heat, Amelia? Don’t think my intellects are disordered when I tell you that I heard it come rolling up like huge waves. I imagined it to be thunder until the gentlemen had assured me positively there was none. Then the sounds of the horses’ feet multiplied themselves into the tramp of an immense army marching upon us, or there was a continual roar, such as might be made by a whole mighty river pouring over a precipice, and from the thickets we skirted came shrieks and groans and cries, which I was told were due to night-birds and wild animals, but which sounded at once more alarming and more mysterious from the uncertainty with which they reached the ear. These terrors did not, of course, attain their greatest height immediately. During the first part of the journey Mr Watts astonished us all by the gay good-humour with which he encountered the situation. Whenever we slackened speed for a rise in the ground, he would break into such agreeable and rallying discourse as made us forget our discomforts. The skill and temper with which he had braved the Nabob’s threatenings and disarmed his suspicions, while at the same time plotting with his courtiers for his overthrow, formed his chief theme, as though, like the great Roman commander, he would have banished our fears by reminding us that we were in company with himself and his fortunes. Again, as though the sudden removal of the heavy anxieties under which he had laboured so long had left him as careless as a boy, he would set to rallying one of the other gentlemen, as when we stopped once that Mr Fraser and I might transfer ourselves to the fresh horse, and I sat panting on the ground while the saddles were changed.
“Come, doctor,” he cried, in answer to a Greek quotation from Dr Dacre, “confess that you’re cherishing a grudge against me at this moment for dragging you away from your books. I’m persuaded that in your heart of hearts you’d prefer to die with your dear classical authors rather than be saved without ’em. The blackfellows will make a fine bonfire of them, I’ll warrant you.”
“Indeed, sir,” said the doctor, with something of a guilty air, “I must confess I would not trust the Indians with any of my treasures.”
“Would not, sir? Pray what does that mean? I have observed your horse flagging very painfully--sure your saddle-bags are prodigious hard, and your pockets. Oh, doctor, doctor! can it be that you have loaded the poor dumb beast with the weight of your library--and you a _burra Padra_?”
“Only the most precious volumes, sir, I’ll assure you.”
“The cruelty’s the same. Come, doctor, pitch ’em all out. Lighten the ship, as Mr Fraser would say. Will you exhibit less strength of mind than his lady, who was content to bring the smallest possible package with her?”
“Ah, sir, Mrs Fraser had no more to bring,” said the poor divine with a deprecating air, which made Mr Watts laugh heartily. But having alarmed Dr Dacre sufficiently, he was good-natured enough to relieve him of the weight of one or two of the books, and Mr Ranger doing the same, the doctor’s horse displayed a good deal more vivacity than before. On starting on our journey again, Mr Watts changed our course, remarking that we must have rode over twenty miles since parting with the _cossids_, so that there were thirty miles at least between us and Muxadavad, and ’twas now safe to turn our steps westward, and seek to come upon the river. Horses and riders were now alike fatigued, and even Mr Watts appeared to lose his cheerfulness as we rode on through the night, with the poor _syces_ still keeping close to the heels of their beasts. Occasionally there was an alarm that a village might be near, when the Tartar, who was considered to possess the most perspicuous eye of the party, would ride forward alone and return to report his discoveries, but we succeeded in avoiding almost entirely the habitations of man, although, to speak truth, I could almost have welcomed the being taken prisoner, if it had signified that I was at liberty to leave the horse and throw myself on the ground. Longing only to be still and to slumber, it caused me the extremest agony to be borne along in this unceasing motion, afraid to indulge the drowsiness that tormented me lest I should lose hold of Mr Fraser’s belt and find myself dashed to the ground. My dear Mr Fraser lost no opportunity of endeavouring to raise my spirits, praising my endurance in the kindest terms (oh, had he but known that I could barely keep myself from crying out to him for mercy’s sake to stop the horse and suffer me to rest!), and cheering me constantly with anticipations of arriving shortly at the boats, but I fear he met with but slight response. I felt as though all the strength I possessed was needed for maintaining my hold, and yet I must have been able to speak, for on a sudden I found Mr Fraser addressing me with great concern.
“Why, what’s the matter, sir?” I asked him, as he checked the horse.
“You cried out that you was forced to let go of your hold, my dearest life.”
“I didn’t know it, sir,” I said, and laughed, and my voice had so droll a sound that I laughed again, “but indeed I can’t wonder.”
“Don’t get light-headed, child,” said my spouse, sharply. “Hold the bridle for me a moment,” and when I reached forward and obeyed him, he unbuckled his sword-belt, and slipping it off, fastened it round himself and me both, so that I could not fall even though I loosed my hold. This occupied but an instant, but Mr Ranger came riding back to see what had detained us, and was very merry with Mr Fraser on his riding with his sword out, as though at a review. After this I must believe that I fell asleep in spite of the awkwardness of my position, for when the horse stopped suddenly I should have fallen off had it not been for the belt. As it was, I slipped helplessly from the beast’s back when Mr Fraser unfastened the strap, and should have fell to the ground if Mr Watts had not catched me.
“Come, madam, keep your heart up,” says the good gentleman. “We have made huge progress, and met with the most marvellous good luck throughout.”
“How, sir?” I asked him.
“Why, we have encountered no enemy nor wild beast, there’s light enough to see our way, and the rains en’t begun, as they might well be, since last year they commenced so late. Figure to yourself what our flight would have been with rain falling, and the entire country a swamp!”
“Come, my dear, you must rest while we halt here,” says Mr Fraser, while I endeavoured with my confused brain to picture the situation suggested by Mr Watts, and I resigned the attempt thankfully, lying down on the cloak my husband had spread for me on the ground, and suffering him to cover me with another. I must have fallen asleep immediately, for I dreamed that Mr Fraser came and looked at me very earnestly, but without speaking, and then went away, and waking, I found that he was gone. In the obscurity of the grove in which we were, I could discern the figures of Mr Watts and Dr Dacre, wrapped in their cloaks and stretched upon the ground; at a little distance were the _syces_, crouched upon their heels close to the horses, and Mirza Shaw, with his scymitar drawn, stood guarding his master with the most extreme vigilance, but my spouse and Mr Ranger were not to be seen.
“Where’s Mr Fraser?” I cried out to the Tartar, sitting up in my place, but it was Dr Dacre that answered me.
“Why, madam, your spouse believed you asleep. He’s but this moment gone forward with Mr Ranger to ascertain our position. There was some talk of a force of the Nabob’s horse encamped in the village ahead of us, and blocking our way to the river, and Mirza Shaw has wounded his foot with a thorn----”
“But you’ve sent him into the midst of the enemy? Sure they’ll murder him!” I cried, but Mr Watts, waking, silenced me roughly.
“Be quiet, madam, and pray let other people rest if you won’t do it yourself. Mr Fraser’s in no such terrible danger. If he’s the wise man I fancy him, the enemy will have no chance so much as to catch sight of him.”
Mr Watts fell asleep again at once, but I could not follow his example. The desire for sleep, which had tormented me so long, seemed to have left me, and a hundred horrid visions took its place. I saw Mr Fraser discovered, tracked, pursued, seized, tortured, slain, in all the circumstances that my apprehensive mind could suggest, and even the most ordinary sound that reached me was the signal to start a fresh train of horrors. I was a prey to the most cruel, the most poignant anxiety, and at the same moment to the liveliest remorse, and this because I had not awaked when Mr Fraser came and regarded me, thus losing what I persuaded myself was his last farewell. The shocking selfishness, which had caused me a year ago to destroy my dear Captain Colquhoun in obtaining for me the water that cost him his life, I saw repeated now in the insensibility I had shown to the presence of the person to whom I owe everything, and my heart was almost broken with the thought of such unparalleled ingratitude. Trembling all over with apprehension, I sat leaning against a tree, listening for a distant shot or shout that might confirm my worst fears. Presently Mirza Shaw, catching sight of me, limped across the glade to recommend me in a low voice to lie down.
“Is it near morning yet?” I asked him.
“Why, no, Beebee; only a little past midnight.”
“But sure we must have been riding a dozen hours at least.”
“Less than six, Beebee.”
“Why, how long is it then since Mr Fraser started?”
“Twenty minutes, Beebee.”
“But that’s not possible. I have been listening for him for hours.”
“Not so, Beebee. He has scarce had time to reach the village yet, much less to return to us. Beebee Fraser need not fear for him.”
This was excessively consoling, questionless, but it failed to calm my fears, and I sat and shuddered until there was a rustling of the bushes, and the two missing gentlemen crept back safe into our midst. Mr Watts, awake at once, questioned them eagerly, and they told him they had reached the village, which is named Augadeep, and found the Nabob’s force encamped on both sides of the road, but all fast asleep and without a single sentinel, after the manner of the Indians in war, so that they believed it possible to ride straight through them undiscovered, and reach the river on the further side.
“And so we will!” cried Mr Watts. “Wake up, doctor. The Retreat of the Ten Thousand will be naught to ours. Straight through the enemy’s camp!”
The _syces_ began saddling the horses again immediately, Dr Dacre arose with a good deal of sadness, and unwound himself from his cloak, Mirza Shaw put up his sword and led up Mr Watts’ beast for him to mount, and Mr Fraser approached softly the spot where I was, intending to awake me gently.
“What, my dear, awake? and I recommended you to rest!” he cried.
“Excellent, sir!” cried Mr Watts. “You might have been married ten years, Mr Fraser.”
“Save that then he would scarce have looked for his lady to obey him, sir,” says Mr Ranger; but I paid no heed to their raillery.
“Oh, dear sir,” I cried, throwing myself into Mr Fraser’s arms, “how could I sleep when I imagined each instant that you was fallen into the enemy’s hands?” and the remembrance of my frightful imaginations overpowering me, I burst into a passion of tears and sobs, which I endeavoured in vain to check.
“My dearest creature,” said Mr Fraser at last, “these transports will endanger all our lives if you don’t moderate ’em. Come, that’s my brave girl! But you en’t fit to ride any further to-night.”
“Pray, Mr Fraser, do you purpose settling down for life in this patch of _jungul_?” cried Mr Watts, who was waiting impatiently. “No man can sympathise more heartily with your lady than I do, but delay will mean her destruction as well as ours.”
Mr Fraser made no further protestation, but when Mr Ranger approached to assist me to mount, he gave him a sign, and together they lifted me to the saddle before my husband, so that he could hold me with his left arm, and still have his right at liberty. Mr Watts murmured a little, representing that in the event of a fight Mr Fraser would find himself sorely encumbered, but he was good-humoured enough, and we rode out of the wood. Before we had gone very far, Mr Ranger declared that we were approaching Augadeep, and the speed of the horses was checked. The road was happily deep in dust, so that there was no sound made, and we approached the village in dead silence, the ashes of expiring watch-fires alone showing where the Nabob’s troops were encamped. And now I am about to record a confession that will force my Amelia to despise me, but not more heartily than I despise myself. As we passed between the watch-fires to right and to left, there came upon me the most horrid temptation imaginable to shriek aloud. I tried to reason with myself, in vain; I felt that I must scream, although I knew that all our lives would be the forfeit. Sure it was a heavenly inspiration that saved me, for I seized my handkerchief and stuffed it into my mouth with all my strength. “At least there’ll be no sound now, even if I should scream,” I said to myself, and then I must have swooned, for I knew no more until I found myself laid flat on a pile of cloaks in a small boat, with Mr Fraser endeavouring to force some spirit between my teeth. I wondered in a foolish sort of style whether he would succeed in getting it down, but never thought of assisting him in any way, even by opening my mouth, until he ceased his efforts and turned with a hopeless air to Mr Watts, who, with a pistol in one hand and t’other on his sword, was watching the black men that were rowing.
“’Tis too late, sir!” said Mr Fraser, heavily.
“What’s too late, sir?” I asked him, finding my tongue all of a sudden, and Mr Watts broke into a loud laugh, which he sought anxiously to check.
“Why, the dram, madam. Here has your spouse been tearing his hair and vowing you was dead, and he your murderer. Pray why did you try to throttle yourself? That had more the air of suicide.”
“I--I was afraid of crying out, sir. But where are we, and where are all the rest?”
“Why, madam, we are rowing down the Cossimbuzar river, as fast as these rascally _dandies_ will take us. The Padra and Mr Ranger are in another boat, but since we could find no more than two, and there was no room for the horses, Mirza Shaw refused to abandon his nag, and preferring the beast to his master, remained behind with the _syces_, undertaking to save the whole caravan. Pray, Mr Fraser, keep an eye on that _mangee_ there. I doubt he’s purposing to run us aground.”
“Now, my dearest life, I must have you try to sleep,” said my kind spouse, making at the same time a threatening motion towards the helmsman, as Mr Watts desired. “My good girl won’t be alarmed, knowing her Fraser is close at hand?”
“Why, no, dear sir,” said I, and composed myself to sleep upon the cloaks, as though this strange situation were the most natural thing in the world. It seemed I had slept but a moment, when I was awaked with a great sound of cheering and huzzaing, and saw that we were arrived at a point where two rivers met, and off which there were lying several large boats. On board of these boats was a number of Europeans (whom I judged to be soldiers by the clothes they had hastily catched up), and these were all testifying their delight in seeing us by excessive shouts of joy. It needed no telling that we had met with the guard sent by Colonel Clive to greet us and bring us to the army, and there was little delay in rewarding the Indian boatmen who had done us such good service against their wills, and sending them about their business, while we were taken on board the Colonel’s boats. My Amelia will set me down as a sad lazy creature, but I’ll confess to her honestly that no sooner had I laid myself down in a cabin than I fell asleep again, and slept--how long does she imagine?--why, my dear, for twelve hours! Your idle girl never woke once until the boats reached Culnah at three o’clock in the afternoon, and I can quite believe she would have slumbered again after that but for the agitating news that reached her. Mr Watts has since rallied me more than once upon this feat, and says there’s not a European in India but would gladly purchase the secret of sleeping so well in the hot weather, though I doubt they would scarce choose to earn their slumber by riding from Moidapore to Augadeep. But what, you’ll ask, was the agitating news that I mentioned? Why, my dear, while I was eating some breakfast at four in the afternoon on board the boat, in comes Mr Fraser, who had gone on shore with Mr Watts to pay his respects to Colonel Clive, with an air of huge triumph.
“The Colonel made particular enquiry how you did, my dearest life, and desired his compliments to you. He also requested the honour of your company at his table to supper this evening if you feel sufficiently restored.”
“Oh, dear sir--sup with Colonel Clive! But I have no gown.”
“Why, madam, where’s that thin white thing you wore at Moidapore?”
“That muslin? ’Tis a simple rag, sir, nothing more, and all in the most frightful creases.”
“’Twill but set off my lovely girl’s face all the better. Come, dear madam, you wouldn’t have me disoblige the Colonel? He showed me extraordinary kindness before I set out on my quest for my lost mistress, and I would wish him to see her now she’s found.”
“Oh, if you desire it particularly, dear sir----” Did you ever know a young woman more sweetly obliging than your Sylvia, Amelia? How otherwise could she have consented to appear at the table of the first general of the age in a horrid limp muslin gown without a hoop, made by her own hands, and a cap hastily fashioned (yes, my dear, I’ll own it) out of one of her spouse’s pocket-handkerchiefs? But there was no other ladies present, so that at least no comparisons could be drawn to her disadvantage, and the gentlemen were all in undress, as was, indeed, only proper at an entertainment held in a captured town in the middle of a campaign. Distinguished with the most flattering civilities by Colonel Clive, who came himself to the gate of his quarters to hand her out of her palanqueen, and set her at his right hand during the meal, won’t you give your girl some credit, Amelia, that her head was not turned? But I must not leave my dear friend in ignorance of one fact that should surely have prevented the lightest mind from being uplifted by the elegant kindness of the Colonel. Among the officers and others that were invited, and whom Colonel Clive presented to me, were Mr le Beaume, now a captain in the Company’s army, and Mr Fisherton, who is advanced to be the Colonel’s secretary. When you remember, Amelia, the scenes in which I last beheld these two gentlemen, Captain le Beaume carried wounded into Fort William after the batteries had been abandoned, and Mr Fisherton in that place of horror, the Black Hole itself, will you wonder that they both approached me without a word, and that their feelings came near to overcome them when they touched my hand? Those who stood round were sensibly affected, and I needed but a little encouragement to give way to the melancholy recollections that thronged upon me. This the Colonel had not observed, for he was searching among those present for one whom he did not appear to find.
“Where’s Captain Grant?” he said at last. “I hoped to present all your old friends to you, madam, and you must have been well acquainted with him.”
“Here, sir, at the lady’s service,” said a gentleman wearing the dress of Adlercron’s Regiment.
“No, not you, Major,” says the Colonel. “’Twas Captain Alexander Grant of the Bengall Service I was seeking, an old acquaintance of Mrs Fraser’s.”
“The Captain sent his most humble apologies, sir, but he’s indisposed this evening,” says Mr Fisherton, and his eyes chanced to meet mine. You know in what posture I saw Captain Grant last, Amelia. Perhaps it en’t to be wondered at that he should shrink from meeting the woman whom, in his eagerness for his own safety, he had refused to turn back to save. Something of this I think Colonel Clive must have read in our faces, for he muttered angrily to himself as though he had remembered something suddenly, and brought forward another gentleman, whom I recollect seeing once or twice at Calcutta, although he belonged to the Cossimbuzar factory.
“Mr Hastings, madam,” said the Colonel. “Like Mr Fraser he’s a new-married man,[20.03] but unhappily he han’t had the foresight to bring his lady with him on this campaign, when Mrs Fraser and she might have exchanged confidences and allayed each other’s fears.”
Mr Hastings replying very genteelly that he hoped before long to have the honour of making his wife acquainted with Mrs Fraser, we went to supper, I being placed, as I said, on Mr Clive’s right, with Dr Dacre on t’other side. The Colonel conversed continually with me in the most agreeable manner, asking me whether I had seen much of the army yet, and what I thought of his _loll pultun_?[20.04] This is a regiment of Seapoy soldiers which he has clothed and drilled like Europeans, thus giving them a much more martial air than our old _buxerries_, who were dressed after the Indian fashion in the long breeches called _panjammers_,[20.05] a _cabay_ or vest, and a turbant. I told him that I had observed a number of these men as I passed through the place on my way to his quarters, and been much pleased with their air of neatness and discipline, and then, his words recalling to me that old mystery of Misery’s and the other servants respecting the _loll addama_, I ventured to inform him with what awe and submissiveness the Indians were watching his progress, counting it to be of little use opposing him.
“I hope Mrs Fraser is so obliging as to share this persuasion of theirs?” said he.
“Why, yes, sir. How could I look to see a cause so good as ours permitted to suffer defeat at the hands of such a wretch as the Nabob?”
“Pray, madam, is it the case in your experience that Providence always awards the victory to the most deserving side?”
“Alas, sir, no! But I can’t bring myself to believe that so great a commander as Colonel Clive would have been brought to Bengall merely to add another trophy to the blood-stained laurels of Surajah Dowlah.”
“I thank you, madam, for the thought, which comes in pat enough with one that has occurred to me before. There was a young fellow of my acquaintance once that was sunk to the lowest depths of melancholy. He was poor and proud and in debt, and had not a friend that he could call his own, for besides being of a sad unsociable temper, there was a petulant roughness about him that alienated his acquaintances and outraged his superiors. The severities of this climate, added to his misfortunes, so affected the lad that he resolved to put an end to his existence. There was a loaded pistol at hand, and he placed the muzzle to his head, and pulled the trigger. The piece missed fire, but he was not to be put off. After examining the condition of the charge, he pulled the trigger a second time. Again it missed, and the youth, wondering at this unaccountable failure, determined that he must be intended for some great work, and laid aside the thought of self-destruction. I was that young fellow, madam, and it has seemed to me more than once that the liberation of Bengall may be the task I was destined for.”
“Oh, sir, what cause has Britain to thank Heaven that your rash resolve was frustrated!” I cried. “Sure you can’t now entertain a doubt of your ultimate success, for which all you have yet achieved is but a preparation?”
“Do you know what are the odds against us, madam? Do you know that this army which is called mine is held together only by the memory of my past successes? One disaster and my officers will recollect that their general was bred a clerk, and failed as a writer, and the Tellinghies will forsake the standard of the man whose luck is gone. For myself, madam, I may say without boasting that I have sufficient courage and patience to retrieve a disaster, if I may but retain the confidence of my friends. But to find myself forsaken by those on whose fidelity I had relied, to meet contempt where I had once inspired respect, and distrust where I looked for loyal confidence, that would be intolerable to me. To renew acquaintance with the miseries of my early Madrass days after having tasted of success and public favour, this I could not support--and the pistol is at hand now as then.”
“Oh pray, dear sir, don’t tempt Heaven a second time to alter its designs.”
“Why, madam, have I not told you that so long as I am sure of my friends I can go on boldly? and I thank Heaven that’s the case at present. But how solemn and serious is this discourse for so joyful an occasion! Sure it’s very unkind in Mrs Fraser to tempt me into such melancholy recollections and confessions.”
“May I venture to ask a favour of you, sir?” I saw Mr Clive desired to change the subject.
“Any favour Mrs Fraser asks is already granted. But perhaps I can guess what it is. You would have leave, madam, for your spouse to quit the army when we advance from hence, and attend you at once to Calcutta--en’t that it?”
“Why, no, sir, I was about to entreat you to find some situation for Mr Fraser in which he may contrive to take part in the battle you expect.”
“What, madam! tired of him already?” cried the Colonel; but seeing me covered with confusion and my eyes filled with tears at this unkind remark, he testified extreme penitence, and begged me to explain my desire more fully.
“Indeed, sir, I can’t help being sensible that Mr Fraser lost his share in the taking of Chandernagore by his concern for my safety, which detained him at Muxadavad, and I would not be the cause of depriving him of this also.”
“Why, madam, I thought there was but one woman in the world, and she my own wife, that would extend any sympathy to the concern a man has in his calling, but now I see there’s another. I’ll promise you to find a post for your spouse, if I have to make him Lord High Admiral of my fleet of rowboats.”
“But, sir, you’ve only heard half my request. You’ll permit me to accompany him?”
“Oho, madam, is that it? A battlefield’s no place for women.”
“Oh pray, dear sir, don’t send me away from him. Picture the miserable apprehensions I should be under for his safety. Indeed I’ll give no trouble.”
“Will you be contented to remain with the sick and the baggage when the army marches out to fight, madam? Otherwise I’ll have none of you.”
“Oh yes, sir, provided you won’t leave me too far behind.”
“Madam, I’m not to be conditioned with by non-combatants. If I see too much of you, I’ll send you down the river again under a guard. Our good Mr Watts is minded to accompany the army[20.06] and see the coping-stone set on his labours for the liberation of Bengall, and you’ll be under his orders. Mr Fraser, I need volunteers for the artillery, sir, since I was forced to leave Lieutenant Hay and near all his seamen to garrison Chandernagore. What do you say to giving us the advantage of your sea-experience? Your lady tells me she won’t let you out of her sight, but I hope we may be able to oblige her without losing your services.”
“Indeed, sir, I’ll be only too much honoured in being permitted to place myself at Colonel Clive’s disposal.” Mr Fraser’s face was so full of delight, Amelia, that I felt rewarded for my sacrifice. After all, one must do one’s best to oblige a man that’s so ready to oblige you, and at least I shan’t be parted from him.
This letter is frightfully long, Amelia. I wrote a good piece of it at Culnah, where the army remained until the 16th, and went on with it at Pultee, where we halted that night and part of the next day, while Major Coote with a portion of the army went forward to receive the surrender of the fortress of Cutwah, which had been promised by the governor of the place, although he thought it expedient to make some slight show of resistance. After a little firing the garrison retreated, leaving Cutwah, with a vast quantity of grain and considerable military stores, to us, and none too soon, for yesterday the rains began, and the army, who had spent the night in their tents, were forced to seek refuge in the houses of the town. I am finishing my letter in a commodious apartment of the fortress, overlooking the river Agey,[20.07] while all around preparations are making for the next advance. On the day of our reaching Culnah, Mr Watts despatched a messenger to our ally Meer Jaffier informing him of his safety and of the approach of the army, while almost at the same moment there arrived from this nobleman an Armenian, called Cojah Petroos by the Europeans and by the Moors Aga Bedross, to entreat Colonel Clive to hasten his advance. (I must not omit to say that Mr Watts’ servant, Mirza Shaw, arrived safe on the 15th, with the _syces_ and all the horses, which, having contrived to find another boat, they had swum across the river, holding them with the bridles lengthened.) From Muxadavad the Colonel hears that on learning of Mr Watts’ evasion the Nabob exhibited the most abject terror, and breaking off the attack he was about to make on Meer Jaffier’s castle, humbled himself so far as to seek a reconciliation with him, and received his oath of allegiance, which has caused some apprehension here. Elated with this triumph, Surajah Dowlah has wrote in terms of defiance to the Colonel, and though hindered by a mutiny of his troops, which was only appeased by the distributing among them a vast sum of money, is about taking up his ancient position at Placis,[20.08] a spot where he has a hunting-lodge, some fifteen miles from here. He has summoned Mons. Law and the other fugitive French to join him from Bogglypore, and Sinzaun and the rest of his countrymen that are with him already have shown the first taste of their quality by plundering and burning the Cossimbuzar factory in their rage at Mr Watts’ escape. I write on June the 20th. What happened a year ago this day I need not remind my Amelia, but sure it’s strange enough that the avenging of Calcutta should arrive at a time so closely joined with its fall.