CHAPTER X

Hope and Despair

Two more weary days passed inside the fortified house. Numerous attacks had been made, and though they had invariably failed, some damage had been inflicted on the besieged. As the assailants were retiring in disorder after one of these futile attempts, a big, light-featured man in scanty costume sidled up to the house, waving a sealed letter.

"Quick! let me in!" he shouted. "I'm a sepoy of the Guide Corps!"

The door was hurriedly thrown open, but not before the besiegers had divined the man's intentions, and bullets whizzed perilously near his head before he was safe inside. Espying our hero, the Guide handed him the letter, and Ted recognized the fellow as Faiz Talab, his brother's orderly.

He opened the note, and his face glowed. He whistled, then shouted in great excitement, "Hurrah! the Guides are coming!"

"The Guides!" echoed Sir Arthur, and a joyful light came into Ethel's eyes. Faiz Talab, the Pathan, grinned gleefully.

The letter, dated from Manghur, thirty-two miles away, ran as follows:--

"We were starting for Delhi when the Aurungpore news arrived, and as we pass so close I obtained permission to detach 120 men to your aid. A greater number cannot be spared, as Delhi is all-important. So, old man, tell Ethel I'll soon be with her."

The great news quickly spread from one end of the big house to the other. Food was prepared for the bearer of good tidings, and Faiz Talab, Yusufzai, was fêted as he had never been before. He described the route by which the Guides would come, and stated when they might be expected.

"Russell Sahib will be here to-morrow, and by the beard of the Prophet, we shall teach these curs a lesson!" he concluded.

"You seem to know this district well," said the Commissioner. "You have been here before," and the man grinned slyly.

"I was a youngster, sahib, when first I saw Aurungpore. We Yusufzais came down at night and lifted the cattle and raided the villages, and we laughed at Ranjit Singh's army that followed, for we knew that we had a good start, and the Sikhs would not venture into the hills. Ah, those were the good old days! Yet people say they have come again, and that Delhi is a richer town to loot than Aurungpore."

The Yusufzai smacked his lips at the prospect. Here, thought Ted, was another sample of the robbers that apparently formed the backbone of the Guide Corps. The brightness of the prospect revealed by Faiz Talab's message was fast fading away, and as the garrison had time to think it over there came a diminution of enthusiasm. Ted voiced the general opinion when he abruptly asked:

"But of what use is a single company against such swarms of rebels and budmashes, even if they are to be trusted?"

"But we are the Guides, sahib," said Faiz Talab proudly.

That self-same day came tidings that more than destroyed the hopes raised by Jim's letter. Into Aurungpore marched the 138th Bengal Native Infantry, rebels and murderers, flushed with success. They had shot down their officers and looted the treasury, to guard which had been their duty. Dire was the consternation caused by the arrival of the new contingent, and great was the dismay.

But when, next morning, our friends noticed that the six 9-pounders of the fort were being moved by certain of the new-comers into a position whence their place of refuge could be bombarded, dismay gave place to utter despair. The sepoys of the 193rd did not understand the handling of these guns, and had regarded them with some awe as fearsome weapons that might turn against themselves. But the 138th counted a couple of hundred Sikhs amongst their number.

Now the Sikh maharaja, Ranjit Singh, had maintained a splendid force of artillery, and many of the Sikh sepoys, who had enlisted under British colours, had previously been gunners in the army of the Khalsa,[6] and they saw at once how the little garrison might be speedily destroyed. A few hours' search brought to light a quantity of material that had not been demolished in the explosion. All day long the exploration went on, and plenty of ammunition to feed the guns was soon stored close at hand.

[6] The title of the Sikh Confederacy.

The time of the expected arrival of the Guides drew nigh.

"Better that they should not come," Major Munro wearily opined. "They would only share our fate. What chance would they have against 1500 trained soldiers?"

"Do you think they will turn back, sir, when they hear of the arrival of this fresh lot?" Ted enquired in an anxious tone.

"I certainly do. It would be foolish--idiotic--to attempt a rescue in the face of such odds. Were I in your brother's place I should feel it my duty to government, as well as to my men, not to throw them away on so helpless an undertaking. It will be very hard for him to leave his affianced wife in such dreadful peril, but that is one of a soldier's risks. His men belong to the government, not to him, and he has no right to risk them where there is no chance. We are short enough of men as it is."

Ethel, standing by, grew pale as she thought of the danger to her beloved. Her own peril, and even her father's, were forgotten for the moment.

"Oh, Major Munro," she exclaimed, "let us hope that they will turn back! They cannot do us good by throwing their own lives away!"

And this was the opinion of all.

The devoted Rajputs of Captain Markham's company never for a moment wavered in their allegiance. They fought and took their turn on guard, and fought again as staunchly as the white men, and many were the acts of heroism they displayed. Twice was the staff of the Union Jack, that still floated above the house, broken by missiles, and on each occasion some of the intrepid Hindus volunteered to splice the wood. In full sight of the enemy, who fired wildly at them, they achieved this, and again the silken folds waved freely in the breeze.

Again and again the mutineers advanced on every side, with great noise and waving of weapons. Again and again they approached more peaceably, shouting to the Hindus that they should come out and join their comrades, promising them gold and silver in abundance should they deliver the white men into their hands.

Each attack was met with steadfast courage; the noisy firing was answered by a steadier rattle of musketry, and the rebels dropped fast; unwavering fidelity rejected both bribes and friendly advances; and on more than one occasion a determined, vigorous sortie was the only reply vouchsafed by these gallant dark-faces.

Slowly and anxiously the day wore on. Care-worn faces wistfully regarded the threatening nine-pounders that would soon begin to pour destruction upon them. For a moment the attacks ceased as the rebels crowded round the guns that were placed upon an open eminence overlooking the house.

Fascinated by the sight, the whole garrison gathered before the windows, powerless to avert their gaze from the instruments of destruction.

But what means that sudden commotion--that loud shrill cheering? The mob is seen to part right and left, the rebel sepoys fling their caps in the air and wave their muskets excitedly as a body of fine, well-set-up men, fierce of aspect, turbaned, and clad in drab uniforms, marches into the courtyard of the fort. Though no word of command is given, the fresh arrivals there halt, fall out, and at once begin to fraternize with the mutineers. Behind the tall men appear a score of much smaller figures, clothed in the same uniform, and these shout and gesticulate more wildly than any.

"The Guides!" gasps Lieutenant Leigh.

"Traitors, by George!" thunders Major Munro, with intense and vehement bitterness. "Traitors!"

A long pause followed. The Britons gazed upon one another with blank, haggard faces. The whole Indian Empire was tumbling down, and none was loyal! Until this moment not a man amongst them but had known some ray of hope, however feeble.

"Are they truly the Guides?" asked one. "Who, then, are the little beggars?" pointing to the rearmost.

"Gurkhas of the Guide Corps," answered Leigh, no less bitterly. "And their officers have always maintained that Gurkhas can be trusted when all others fail. Well, we live and learn."

"Aye, we learn,--but not the other," was Munro's grim aside.

Momentarily forgetting their predicament, Ted stared with great interest at the short figures and Tartar laces that grinned in fiendish anticipation; for his father had often spoken in terms of the highest praise of these reputedly fearless Himalayan mountaineers, against whom he had fought, and whom he had afterwards led.

"Well, if those are Gurkhas, I don't think much of 'em," said the ensign, his critical spirit asserting itself even at this crisis. "Our seventy Rajputs could tackle a hundred of them."

As for Faiz Talab, his eyes seemed to be starting from his head.

"The pigs! the curs!" he gasped at length. "What can it mean?"

As the Yusufzai spoke he grasped an Enfield rifle, brought it to his shoulder, and fired at the mass of drab uniforms, then fell to cursing his comrades afresh for the shame they had brought upon their corps. The onlookers could distinguish their own disloyal men pointing out the British stronghold to the Guides, who seemed to be examining the situation with keen interest. The siege was temporarily raised, whilst a general confabulation took place among the rebel leaders.

"Faiz Talab, what have they done to my brother?" asked Ted.

The Yusufzai shook his head. "I know not," said he.

"Hadst thou no word or hint of this intended treachery?"

"Neither word nor hint, sahib. Surely I must be dreaming, for yesterday we were all loyal to the backbone, and we loved thy brother greatly. I do not understand it."

"Yesterday," interposed Lieutenant Leigh, "they had not heard of the mutiny and entry of the 138th. Perhaps that decided the rascals to throw over the British raj."

"It must indeed be so, yet it does not seem possible."

"Think you they have allowed the Captain Sahib to escape?" asked Alec Paterson, guessing that Ted could not bring himself to ask this question for fear of the reply.

"Nay, that could hardly be. If they have been so base as to prove untrue to the salt they have eaten, they would not hesitate to kill their officer."

"Though you pretend that they loved him?" Ted bitterly demanded.

"The better reason for slaying him. They would kill him first of all, because they loved and honoured him, so that he might never know their shame. Yet I cannot believe it. May my father's grave be defiled if I do not kill some of the traitors before I die!"

Ted walked to the window and gazed forth upon the distant hubbub. Paterson followed, and laid his hand upon the shoulder of his chum.

"It will be worse for the poor lassie, I'm thinking, Ted," he said.

Our hero nodded, but could not trust himself to speak.

"We must keep the news from her as long as we can," Alec continued. "She is with her father now, and has not heard. The others will not tell her."