by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XX.
Prepared as the mistress of the zenana was to find a great change in thecaptive's appearance, she was startled when, soon after daybreak, shewent in to see her. The lower part of her face was greatly swollen, herlips were covered with white blotches. There were great red scarsround the mouth and on her forehead, and the skin seemed to have beencompletely eaten away. There were even larger and deeper marks on herneck and shoulders, which were partly uncovered, as if by her restlesstossing. Her hands and arms were similarly marked. She took no noticeof her entrance, but talked to herself as she tossed restlessly on thecouch.
There was but little acting in this, for Isobel was suffering an agonyof pain. She had used the acid much more freely than she had beeninstructed to do, determined that the disfigurement should be complete.All night she had been in a state of high fever, and had for a time beenalmost delirious. She was but slightly more easy now, and had difficultyin preventing herself from crying out from the torture she wassuffering.
There was no tinge of pity in the face of the woman who looked at her,but a smile of satisfaction at the manner in which the potion had doneits work.
"The Nana can see her now," she said to herself; "there will be nochange in the arrangements here."
She at once sent out word that as soon as the Rajah was up he was to betold that she begged him to come at once.
An hour later he came to the door of the zenana.
"What is it, Poomba?" he asked; "nothing the matter with Miss Hannay, Ihope?"
"I grieve to say, your highness, that she has been seized with someterrible disease. I know not what it is, for never did I see a woman sosmitten. It must be an illness contracted from confinement and bad airduring the siege, some illness that the Europeans have, for never did Isee aught like it. She is in a high state of fever, and her face is in aterrible state. It must be a sort of plague."
"You have been poisoning her," the Nana said roughly; "if so, beware,for your life shall be the forfeit. I will see her for myself."
"She has had no poison since she came here, though I know not but whatshe may have had poison about her, and may have taken it after she wascaptured."
"Take me to her," the Rajah said. "I will see for myself."
"It may be a contagious disease, your highness. It were best that youshould not go near her."
The Rajah made an impatient gesture, and the woman, without anotherword, led him into the room where Isobel was lying. The Nana wasprepared for some disfigurement of the face he had so admired, but heshrank back from the reality.
"It is horrible," he said, in a low voice. "What have you been doing toher?" he asked, turning furiously to the woman.
"I have done nothing, your highness. All day yesterday she lay in atorpor, as I told you in the evening when you inquired about her, and Ithought then she was going to be ill. I have watched her all night.She has been restless and disturbed, but I thought it better not to gonearer lest I should wake her, and it was not until this morning, whenthe day broke, that I perceived this terrible change. What shall we dowith her? If the disease is contagious, everyone in the palace may catchit."
"Have a closed palanquin brought to the door, wrap her up, and haveher carried down to the Subada Ke Kothee. Let her give it to the womenthere. Burn all the things in this room, and everything that has beenworn by those who have entered it. I will inquire into this matter lateron, and should I find that there has been any foul play, those concernedin it shall wish they had never been born."
As soon as he had left the woman called Rabda in.
"All has gone well," she said; "your father's philter is powerfulindeed. Tell him whenever he needs any service I can render he has butto ask it. Look at her; did you ever see one so disfigured? The Rajahhas seen her, and is filled with loathing. She is to be sent to theSubada Ke Kothee. Are you sure that the malady is not contagious? I havepersuaded the Rajah that it is; that is why he is sending her away."
"I am sure it is not," Rabda said; "it is the result of the drugs. It isterrible to see her; give me some cooling ointment."
"What does it matter about her now that she is harmless?" Poomba saidscornfully. Being, however, desirous of pleasing Rabda, she went awayand brought a pot of ointment, which the girl applied to the sores, thetears falling down her cheeks as she did so.
The salve at once afforded relief from the burning pain, and Isobelgratefully took a drink prepared from fresh limes.
She had only removed her gown when she had lain down, having done thisin order that it should not be burned by the acid, and that her neckand shoulders might be seen, and the belief induced that this strangeeruption was all over her. Rabda made signs for her to put it on again,and pointing in the direction of Cawnpore, repeated the word severaltimes, and Isobel felt with a thrill of intense thankfulness that thestratagem had succeeded, and that she was to be sent away at once,probably to the place where the other prisoners were confined. Presentlythe woman returned.
"Rabda, you had best go with her. It were well that you should leavefor the present. The Rajah is suspicious; he may come back again and askquestions; and as he knows you by sight, and as you told me your fatherwas in disfavor with him at present, he might suspect that you were insome way concerned in the matter."
"I will go," Rabda said. "I am sorry she has suffered so much. I did notthink the potion would have been so strong. Give me a netful of freshlimes and some cooling lotion, that I may leave with her there."
In a few minutes a woman came up to say that the palanquin was inreadiness at the gate of the zenana garden. A large cushion was takenoff a divan, and Isobel was laid upon it and covered with a lightshawl. Six of the female attendants lifted it and carried it downstairs,accompanied by Rabda and the mistress off the zenana, both closelyveiled. Outside the gate was a large palanquin, with its bearers andfour soldiers and an officer. The cushion was lifted and placed in thepalanquin, and Rabda also took her place there.
"Then you will not return today," the woman said to her, in a voice loudenough to be heard by the officers "You will remain with her for a time,and afterwards go to see your friends in the town. I will send for youwhen I hear that you wish to return."
The curtains of the palanquin were drawn down; the bearers lifted it andstarted at once for Cawnpore.
On arrival at the large building known as the Subada Ke Kothee thegates were opened at once at the order of the Nana's officer, and thepalanquin was carried across the courtyard to the door of the buildingwhich was used as a prison for the white women and children. It wastaken into the great arched room and set down. Rabda stepped out, andthe bearers lifted out the cushion upon which Isobel lay.
"You will not be wanted any more," Rabda said, in a tone of authority."You can return to Bithoor at once!"
As the door closed behind them several of the ladies came round tosee this fresh arrival. Rabda looked round till her eye fell upon Mrs.Hunter, who was occupied in trying to hush a fractious child. She puther hand on her arm and motioned to her to come along. Surprised at thesummons, Mrs. Hunter followed her. When they reached the cushion Rabdalifted the shawl from Isobel's face. For a moment Mrs. Hunter failed torecognize her, but as Isobel opened her eyes and held out her hand sheknew her, and with a cry of pity she dropped on her knees beside her.
"My poor child, what have these fiends been doing to you?"
"They have been doing nothing, Mrs. Hunter," she whispered. "I am notso bad as I seem, though I have suffered a great deal of pain. I wascarried away to Bithoor, to Nana Sahib's zenana, and I have burnt myface with caustic and acid; they think I have some terrible disease, andhave sent me here."
"Bravely done, girl! Bravely and nobly done! We had best keep the secretto ourselves; there are constantly men looking through the bars of thewindow, and some of them may understand English."
Then she looked up and said, "It is Miss Hannay, she was captured withus in the boats; please help me to carry her over to the wall there, andmy daughter and I will nu
rse her; it looks as if she had been terriblyburnt, somehow."
Many of the ladies had met Isobel in the happy days before the troublesbegan, and great was the pity expressed at her appearance. She wascarried to the side of the wall, where Mary and Mrs. Hunter at once madeher as comfortable as they could. Rabda, who had now thrown back herveil, produced from under her dress the net containing some fifty smalllimes, and handed to Mrs. Hunter the pot of ointment and the lotion.
"She has saved me," Isobel said; "it is the daughter of the juggler whoperformed at your house, Mrs. Hunter; do thank her for me, and tell herhow grateful I am."
Mrs. Hunter took Rabda's hand, and in her own language thanked her forher kindness to Isobel.
"I have done as I was told," Rabda said simply; "the Sahib Bathurstsaved my life, and when he said the lady must be rescued from the handsof the Nana, it was only right that I should do so, even at the risk ofmy life."
"So Bathurst has escaped," Mrs. Hunter said, turning to Isobel. "I amglad of that, dear; I was afraid that all were gone."
"Yes, I had a note from him; it is by his means that I got away fromBithoor. He sent me the caustic and acid to burn my face. He told meMr. Wilson had also escaped, and perhaps some others may have got away,though he did not seem to know it."
"But surely there could be no occasion to burn yourself as badly as youhave done, Isobel."
"I am afraid I did put on too much acid," she said. "I was so afraidof not burning it enough; but it does not matter, it does not pain menearly so much since I put on that ointment; it will soon get well."
Mrs. Hunter shook her head regretfully.
"I am afraid it will leave marks for a long time."
"That is of no consequence at all, Mrs. Hunter; I am so thankful atbeing here with you, that I should mind very little if I knew that itwas always to be as bad as it is now. What does it matter?"
"It does not matter at all at present, my dear; but if you ever get outof this horrible place, some day you may think differently about it."
"I must go now," Rabda said. "Has the lady any message to send to thesahib?" and she again handed a paper and pencil to Isobel.
The girl took them, hesitating a little before writing:
"Thank God you have saved me. Some day, perhaps, I may be able to tellyou how grateful I am; but, if not, you will know that if the worsthappens to us, I shall die blessing you for what you have done for me.Pray do not linger longer in Cawnpore. You may be discovered, and if Iam spared, it would embitter my life always to know that it had cost youyours. God bless you always.
"Yours gratefully,
"Isobel."
She folded up the paper and gave it to Rabda, who took her hand andkissed it; and then, drawing her veil again over her face, went to thedoor, which stood open for the moment.
Some men were bringing in a large cauldron of rice. The sentries offeredno opposition to her passing out, as the officer with the palanquinhad told them that a lady of the Rajah's zenana would leave shortly.A similar message had been given to the officer at the main gate, who,however, requested to see her hand and arm to satisfy him that all wasright. This was sufficient to assure him that it was not a white womanpassing out in disguise, and Rabda at once proceeded to her father'shouse.
As she expected, he and Bathurst were away, for she had arranged to meetthem at eight o'clock in the garden. They did not return until eleven,having waited two hours for her, and returning home in much anxiety ather non-appearance.
"What has happened? Why did you not meet us, Rabda?" her fatherexclaimed, as he entered.
Rabda rapidly repeated the incidents that had happened since she hadparted from him the evening before, and handed to Bathurst the two notesshe had received from Isobel.
"Then she is in safety with the others!" he exclaimed in delight. "ThankGod for that, and thank you, Rabda, indeed, for what you have done."
"My life is my lord's," the girl said quietly. "What I have done isnothing."
"If we had but known, Rujub, that she would be moved at once, we mighthave rescued her on the way."
Rujub shook his head.
"There are far too many people along the road, sahib; it could not havebeen done. But, of course, there was no knowing that she would be sentoff directly after the Nana had seen her."
"Is she much disfigured, Rabda?" Bathurst asked.
"Dreadfully;" the girl said sorrowfully. "The acid must have been toostrong."
"It was strong, no doubt," Bathurst said; "but if she had put it on as Iinstructed her it could only have burnt the surface of the skin."
"It has burnt her dreadfully, sahib; even I should hardly have knownher. She must be brave indeed to have done it. She must have suffereddreadfully; but I obtained some ointment for her, and she was betterwhen I left her. She is with the wife of the Sahib Hunter."
"Now, Rabda, see if the meal is prepared," Rujub said. "We are bothhungry, and you can have eaten nothing this morning."
He then left the room, leaving Bathurst to read the letters which hestill held in his hand, feeling that they were too precious to be lookedat until he was alone.
It was some time before Rabda brought in his breakfast, and, glancing athim, she saw how deeply he had been moved by the letters. She went up tohim and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"We will get her for you, sahib. We have been successful so far, beassured that we shall succeed again. What we have done is more difficultthan what we have to do. It is easier to get twenty prisoners from ajail than one from a rajah's zenana."
"That is true enough, Rabda. At the moment I was not thinking of that,but of other things."
He longed for sympathy, but the girl would not have understood him hadhe told her his feelings. To her he was a hero, and it would have seemedto her folly had he said that he felt himself altogether unworthy ofIsobel Hannay. After he had finished his breakfast Rujub again came in.
"What does the sahib intend to do now?" he asked.
"As far as I can see there is nothing to do at present, Rujub," he said."When the white troops come up she will be delivered."
"Then will my lord go down to Allahabad?"
"Certainly not. There is no saying what may happen."
"That is so," Rujub agreed. "The white women are safe at present, butif, as the Sahib thinks, the white soldiers should beat the troops ofthe Nana, who can say what will happen? The people will be wild withrage, the Nana will be furious--he is a tiger who, having once laid hispaw on a victim, will not allow it to be torn from him."
"He can never allow them to be injured," Bathurst said. "It is possiblethat as our troops advance he may carry them all off as hostages, and bythe threat of killing them may make terms for his own life, but he wouldnever venture to carry out his threats. You think he would?" he asked.
Rujub remained silent for a minute.
"I think so, sahib; the Nana is an ambitious man; he has wealth andeverything most men would desire to make life happy, but he wanted more:he thought that when the British Raj was destroyed he would rule overthe territories of the Peishwa, and be one of the greatest lords of theland. He has staked everything on that; if he loses, he has lost all. Heknows that after the breach of his oath and the massacre here, there isno pardon for him. He is a tiger--and a wounded tiger is most dangerous.If he is, as you believe he will be, defeated, I believe his one thoughtwill be of revenge. Every day brings news of fresh risings. Scindia'sarmy will join us; Holkar's will probably follow. All Oude is rising inarms. A large army is gathering at Delhi. Even if the Nana is defeatedhere all will not be lost. He has twenty thousand men; there are wellnigh two hundred thousand in arms round Lucknow alone. My belief isthat if beaten his first thought will be to take revenge at once on theFeringhees, and to make his name terrible, and that he will then go offwith his army to Lucknow or Delhi, where he would be received as one whohas dared more than all others to defy the whites, who has no hope ofpardon, and can, therefore, be relied upon above all others to fight tothe last."
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"It may be so, Rujub, though I can scarce believe that there exists amonster who would give orders for the murder of hundreds of women andchildren in cold blood; but, at any rate, I will remain and watch.We will decide upon what will be the best plan to rescue her from theprison, if we hear that evil is intended; but, if not, I can remainpatiently until our troops arrive. I know the Subada Ke Kothee; it is,if I remember right, a large quadrangle with no windows on the outside."
"That is so, sahib; it is a strong place, and difficult indeed to getinto or out of. There is only the main gate, which is guarded at nightby two sentries outside and there is doubtless a strong guard within."
"I would learn whether the same regiment always furnishes the guard; ifso, it might be possible to bribe them."
"I am afraid it would be too dangerous to try. There are scores of menin Cawnpore who would cut a throat for a rupee, but when it comes tobreaking open a prison to carry off one of these white women whom theyhate it would be too dangerous to try."
"Could you not do something with your art, Rujub?"
"If there were only the outside sentries it would be easy enough, sahib.I could send them to sleep with a wave of my hand, but I could notaffect the men inside whom I do not know even by sight. Besides, inaddition to the soldiers who guard the gate, there will be the men whohave been told off to look after the prisoners. It will require a greatdeal of thinking over, sahib, but I believe we shall manage it. I shallgo tomorrow to Bithoor and show myself boldly to the Nana. He knows thatI have done good service to him, and his anger will have cooled down bythis time, and he will listen to what I have to say. It will be usefulto us for me to be able to go in and out of the palace at will, and solearn the first news from those about him. It is most important that weshould know if he has evil intentions towards the captives, so that wemay have time to carry out our plans."
"Very well, Rujub. You do not expect me to remain indoors, I hope, for Ishould wear myself out if I were obliged to wait here doing nothing."
"No, sahib; it will be perfectly safe for you to go about just as youare, and I can get you any other disguise you like. You will gather whatis said in the town, can listen to the Sepoys, and examine the Subada KeKothee. If you like I will go there with you now. My daughter shall comewith us; she may be useful, and will be glad to be doing something."
They went out from the city towards the prison house, which stood inan open space round which were several other buildings, some of themsurrounded with gardens and walls.
The Subada Ke Kothee was a large building, forming three sides of asquare, a strong high wall forming the fourth side. It was low, with aflat roof. There were no windows or openings in the outside wall, thechambers all facing the courtyard. Two sentries were at the gate. Theywere in the red Sepoy uniform, and Bathurst saw at once how much thebonds of discipline had been relaxed. Both had leaned their musketsagainst the wall; one was squatted on the ground beside his firearm, andthe other was talking with two or three natives of his acquaintance. Thegates were closed.
As they watched, a native officer came up. He stood for a minutetalking with the soldiers. By his gesticulations it could be seen he wasexceedingly angry, and the men took their muskets and began to walk upand down. Then the officer knocked at the gate. Instead of its beingopened, a man appeared at a loophole in the gate tower, and the officerhanded to him a paper. A minute later the gate was opened sufficientlyfor him to pass in, and was then closed behind him.
"They are evidently pretty strict," Bathurst said. "I don't think,Rujub, there is much chance of our doing anything there."
Rujub shook his head. "No, sahib, it is clear they have strict ordersabout opening and shutting the gate."
"It would not be very difficult to scale the wall of the house,"Bathurst said, "with a rope and a hook at its end; but that is only thefirst step. The real difficulty lies in getting the prison room open inthe first place--for no doubt they are locked up at night--and in thesecond getting her out of it, and the building."
"You could lower her down from the top of the wall, sahib."
"Yes, if one could get her out of the room they are confined in withoutmaking the slightest stir, but it is almost too much to hope that onecould be able to do that. The men in charge of them are likely to keepa close watch, for they know that their heads would pay for any captivethey allowed to escape."
"I don't think they will watch much, sahib; they will not believe thatany of the women, broken down as they must be by trouble, would attemptsuch a thing, for even if they got out of the prison itself and thenmade their escape from the building, they would be caught before theycould go far."
"Where does the prison house lie, Rabda?" Bathurst asked.
"It is on the left hand side as you enter the gate; it is the farthestdoor. Along that side most of the buildings--which have been used forstorehouses, I should say, or perhaps for the guards when the placewas a palace--have two floors, one above the other. But this is a largevaulted room extending from the ground to the roof; it has windows withiron gratings; the door is very strong and heavy."
"And now, sahib, we can do nothing more," Rujub said. "I will returnhome with Rabda, and then go over to Bithoor."
"Very well, Rujub, I will stay here, and hear what people are talkingabout."
There were indeed a considerable number of people near the building:the fact that the white prisoners were within seemed to exercise afascination, and even women brought their children and sat on thebanks which marked where gardens had once been, and talked of thewhite captives. Bathurst strolled about among the groups of Sepoys andtownspeople. The former talked in loud tones of the little force thathad already started from Allahabad, and boasted how easily they wouldeat up the Feringhees. It seemed, however, to Bathurst that a good dealof this confidence was assumed, and that among some, at least, there wasan undercurrent of doubt and uneasiness, though they talked as loudlyand boldly as their companions.
The townspeople were of two classes: there were the budmashes or roughsof the place, who uttered brutal and ferocious jokes as to the probablefate of the white women. There were others who kept in groups apart andtalked in low voices. These were the traders, to whom the events thathad taken place foreboded ruin. Already most of the shops had beensacked, and many of the principal inhabitants murdered by the mob.Those who had so far escaped, thanks in some instances to the protectionafforded them by Sepoy officers, saw that their trade was ruined, theirbest customers killed, and themselves virtually at the mercy of the mob,who might again break out upon the occasion of any excitement. Thesewere silent when Bathurst approached them. His attire, and the arms soostentatiously displayed in his sash, marked him as one of the dangerousclass, perhaps a prisoner from the jail whose doors had been thrown openon the first night of the Sepoy rising.
For hours Bathurst remained in the neighborhood of the prison. The sunset, and the night came on. Then a small party of soldiers came up andrelieved the sentries. This time the number of the sentries at the gatewas doubled, and three men were posted, one on each of the other sidesof the building. After seeing this done he returned to the house. Afterhe had finished his evening meal Rujub and Rabda came into the room.
"Now, sahib," the former said, "I think that we can tell you how thelady is. Rabda has seen her, spoken to her, and touched her; there issympathy between them."
He seated Rabda in a chair, placed his hand on her forehead, and thendrew the tips of his fingers several times slowly down her face. Hereyes closed. He took up her hand, and let it fall again. It was limp andimpassive. Then he said authoritatively, "Go to the prison." He paused amoment.
"Are you there?"
"I am there," she said.
"Are you in the room where the ladies are?"
"I am there," she repeated.
"Do you see the lady Hannay?"
"I see her."
"How is she?"
"She is lying quiet. The other young lady is sitting beside her. Thelower part of her face is
bandaged up, but I can see that she is notsuffering as she was this morning. She looks quiet and happy."
"Try and speak to her. Say, 'Keep up your courage, we are doing what wecan.' Speak, I order you."
"I have spoken."
"Did she hear you?"
"Yes. She has raised herself on her arm; she is looking round; she hasasked the other young lady if she heard anything. The other shakes herhead. She heard my words, but does not understand them."
Rujub looked at Bathurst, who mechanically repeated the message inEnglish.
"Speak to her again. Tell her these words," and Rujub repeated themessage in English.
"Does she hear you?"
"She hears me. She has clasped her hands, and is looking roundbewildered."
"That will do. Now go outside into the yard; what do you see there?"
"I see eight men sitting round a fire. One gets up and walks to one ofthe grated windows, and looks in at the prisoners."
"Is the door locked?"
"It is locked."
"Where is the key?"
She was silent for some time.
"Where is the key?" he repeated.
"In the lock," she said.
"How many soldiers are there in the guardroom by the gate?"
"There are no soldiers there. There are an officer and four men outside,but none inside."
"That will do," and he passed his hand lightly across her forehead.
"Is it all true?" Bathurst asked, as the juggler turned to him.
"Assuredly it is true, sahib. Had I had my daughter with me atDeennugghur, I could have sent you a message as easily; as it was, I hadto trust only to the power of my mind upon yours. The information is ofuse, sahib."
"It is indeed. It is a great thing to know that the key is left in thelock, and also that at night there are the prison keepers only insidethe building."
"Does she know what she has been doing?" he asked, as Rabda languidlyrose from her chair.
"No, sahib, she knows nothing after she has recovered from thesetrances."
"I will watch tomorrow night," Bathurst said, "and see at what hour thesentries are relieved. It is evident that the Sepoys are not trustedto enter the prison, which is left entirely to the warders, the outsideposts being furnished by some regiment in the lines. It is important toknow the exact hour at which the changes are made, and perhaps youcould find out tomorrow, Rujub, who these warders are; whether they arepermanently on duty, or are relieved once a day."
"I will do that, sahib; if they are changed we may be able to get atsome of them."
"I have no money," Bathurst said; "but--"
"I have money, sahib, and if they can be bribed, will do it; ourcaste is a rich one. We sometimes receive large presents, and we areeverywhere made welcome. We have little need of money. I am wealthy, andpractice my art more because I love it than for gain. There are few inthe land that know the secrets that I do. Men die without having sonsto pass down their knowledge; thus it is the number of those who possessthe secrets of the ancient grows smaller every day. There are hundredsof jugglers, but very few who know, as I do, the secrets of nature, andcan control the spirits of the air. Did I need greater wealth than Ihave, Rabda could discover for me all the hidden treasures of India;and I could obtain them, guarded though they may be by djins and evilspirits."
"Have you a son to come after you, Rujub?"
"Yes; he is traveling in Persia, to confer with one or two of the greatones there who still possess the knowledge of the ancient magicians."
"By the way, Rujub, I have not asked you how you got on with the Nana."
"It was easy enough," the juggler said. "He had lost all interest inthe affairs of Deennugghur, and greeted me at first as if I had justreturned from a journey. Then he remembered and asked me suddenly why Ihad disobeyed his orders and given my voice for terms being granted tothe Feringhees. I said that I had obeyed his orders; I understood thatwhat he principally desired was to have the women here as prisoners, andthat had the siege continued the Feringhees would have blown themselvesinto the air. Therefore the only plan was to make terms with them, whichwould, in fact, place them all in his power, as he would not be boundby the conditions granted by the Oude men. He was satisfied, and said nomore about it, and I am restored to my position in his favor. Henceforthwe shall not have to trust to the gossip of the bazaars, but I shallknow what news is received and what is going to be done.
"Your people at Delhi have beaten back the Sepoys several times, and atLucknow they resist stoutly. The Nana is very angry that the place hasnot been taken, but from what I hear the intrenchments there are muchstronger than they were here, and even here they were not taken by thesword, but because the whites had no shelter from the guns, and couldnot go to the well without exposing themselves to the fire. At Lucknowthey have some strong houses in the intrenchments, and no want ofanything, so they can only be captured by fighting. Everyone says theycannot hold out many days longer, but that I do not know. It does notseem to me that there is any hope of rescue for them, for even if, asyou think, the white troops should beat Nana Sahib's men, theynever could force their way through the streets of Lucknow to theintrenchments there."
"We shall see, Rujub. Deennugghur was defended by a mere handful, andat Lucknow they have half a regiment of white soldiers. They may, foranything I know, have to yield to starvation, but I doubt whether themutineers and Oude men, however numerous they may be, will carry theplace by assault. Is there any news elsewhere?"
"None, sahib, save that the Feringhees are bringing down regiments fromthe Punjaub to aid those at Delhi."
"The tide is beginning to turn, Rujub; the mutineers have done theirworst, and have failed to overthrow the English Raj. Now you will seethat every day they will lose ground. Fresh troops will pour up thecountry, and step by step the mutiny will be crushed out; it is aquestion of time only. If you could call up a picture on smoke of whatwill be happening a year hence, you would see the British triumphanteverywhere."
"I cannot do that, sahib; I do not know what would appear on the smoke,and were I to try, misfortune would surely come upon me. When a pictureof the past is shown on the smoke, it is not a past I know of, but whichone of those present knows. I cannot always say which among them mayknow it; it is always a scene that has made a strong impression on themind, but more than that I do not know. As to those of the future, Iknow even less; it is the work of the power of the air, whose name Iwhisper to myself when I pour out the incense, and to whom I pray. Itis seldom that I show these pictures; he gets angry if called upon toooften. I never do it unless I feel that he is propitious."
"It is beyond me altogether, Rujub; I can understand your power ofsending messages, and of your daughter seeing at a distance. Ihave heard of such things at home; they are called mesmerism andclairvoyance. It is an obscure art; but that some men do possess thepower of influencing others at a distance seems to be undoubted, stillit is certainly never carried to such perfection as I see it in yourcase."
"It could not be," Rujub said; "white men eat too much, and it needslong fasting and mortification to fit a man to become a mystic; thespirit gains power as the body weakens. The Feringhees can make armsthat shoot long distances, and carriages that travel faster than thefastest horse, and great ships and machines. They can do many great anduseful things, but they cannot do the things that have been done forthousands of years in the East. They are tied too fast to the earthto have aught to do with the spirits that dwell in the air. A learnedBrahmin, who had studied your holy books, told me that your GreatTeacher said that if you had faith you could move mountains. We couldwell nigh do that if it were of use to mankind; but were we to do somerely to show our power, we should be struck dead. It is wrong even totell you these things; I must say no more."
Four days passed. Rujub went every day for some hours to Bithoor, andtold Bathurst that he heard that the British force, of about fourteenhundred whites and five hundred Sikhs, was pushing forward rapidly,making double marches
each day.
"The first fight will be near Futtehpore," he said; "there are fifteenhundred Sepoys, as many Oude tribesmen, and five hundred cavalry withtwelve guns, and they are in a very strong position, which the Britishcan only reach by passing along the road through a swamp. It is aposition that the officers say a thousand men could hold against tenthousand."
"You will see that it will not delay our troops an hour," Bathurst said."Do they imagine they are going to beat us, when the numbers are buttwo to one in their favor? If so, they will soon learn that they aremistaken."
The next afternoon, when Rujub returned, he said, "You were right,sahib; your people took Futtehpore after only half an hour's fighting.The accounts say that the Feringhees came on like demons, and that theydid not seem to mind our firing in the slightest. The Nana is furious,but they still feel confident that they will succeed in stopping theFeringhees at Dong. They lost their twelve guns at Futtehpore, but theyhave two heavy ones at the Pandoo Bridge, which sweep the straight roadleading to it for a mile; and the bridge has been mined, and will beblown up if the Feringhees reach it. But, nevertheless, the Nana swearsthat he will be revenged on the captives. If you are to rescue the ladyit must be done tonight, for tomorrow it may be too late."
"You surely do not think he will give orders for the murder of the womenand children?"
"I fear he will do so," Rujub answered gloomily.
Each day Bathurst had learned in the same manner as before whatwas doing in the prison. Isobel was no longer being nursed; she wasassisting to nurse Mary Hunter, who had, the day after Isobel wastransferred to the prison, been attacked by fever, and was the nextday delirious. Rabda's report of the next two days left little doubt inBathurst's mind that she was rapidly sinking. All the prisoners sufferedgreatly from the close confinement; many had died, and the girl'sdescription of the scenes she witnessed was often interrupted by hersobs and tears.