CHAPTER IV
The Fanatics
In spite of our hero's recent disgust he had quickly become reconciledto the sweet girl who was to be his brother's wife. There was noresisting her charms. He found her as full of fun and as fond ofadventure as any boy could wish, and he soon grew very anxious to winher good opinion, even attempting to show off occasionally for herbenefit. Ethel had become no less attached to the honest,healthy-minded, plucky lad, and wrote warningly to Jim that she hadfallen desperately in love with his jolly young brother.
A few weeks had elapsed since Captain Russell's departure, whensomething happened to attach them still more closely. One beautifulwinter day Ethel asked the ensign if he would care to stroll through thenative _bazar_ with her, and the lad willingly complied.
Not being of a very curious disposition, he had hitherto neglected thisquarter of the town, and had spent most of his leisure time riding andshooting in the country beyond. But on this occasion the girl was ableto make the visit much more interesting than he had anticipated. Sheknew the people and more than one of the many dialects fairly well, andshe pointed out to her companion the men of various nationalities andreligions who swarmed in the narrow streets. He noticed with amazementthe difference between the strong fighting men of the North-west--thesturdy Jat and stalwart Pathan--and the fat, mild, shrinking Babu fromBengal, or the slender and weaker Hindu from the South.
This part of the town was quite distinct from the quarter in which theEuropeans lived, and was much more picturesque, if also more dirty. Inthe narrow streets all the goods of the small shops were exposed to thepasser-by. Workmen could be seen plying their trade, undisturbed by theinquisitive glances of the lookers-on. And what clumsy tools they had!It would have been impossible for such delicate, exquisite work to havebeen turned out therewith, had not the artisans put their whole soulinto the labour: for to do his work thoroughly and beautifully is areligious duty with the Hindu.
Passing the stalls of the money-changers, fruit-sellers, and dealers innative sweetmeats, their attention was attracted by certain curios inone of the queer shops, and our ensign looked about for something worthsending home. He fixed upon a queer silver bangle, set with turquoises.The setting was uncommon, but the stones were only poor. The turbaned,white-robed shopkeeper rose and came forward at once, salaamingprofoundly, and putting on one side the hubble-bubble he was smoking.After a lengthy argument, in which Ted failed to understand the man'srapid utterance, and his own Hindustani was beyond comprehension, MissWoodburn came to the rescue, fixed the price, and concluded thebusiness.
Attracted by the sahib's curious rendering of their native tongue, anumber of the many idlers around had drawn near. At a corner of thenarrow street, not fifty paces distant, voices had been meanwhile raisedin earnest and violent harangue. Having learned even during his shortsojourn in the land how furious an altercation may arise over a matterof a couple of annas, Ted had not paid much attention to the noise; butnow the speakers rose and came towards them. Foremost was a tall,half-naked man, with long and flowing beard--a mass of dirt and evilsmells; for with these strange people cleanliness is not on speakingterms with godliness, and the most holy men are the most filthy. Hiseyes were inflamed, and his looks and gestures wild. Ethel, from herlonger experience, saw that the mullah had rendered himself mad withbhang, and that two of his companions were in a similar condition.
Pointing to the Feringhis, the mullah's voice rose to a wild shriek.
"What do these offspring of the evil one here? O followers of theProphet, how long will ye allow yourselves to be denied by these kafirs.The time is even now at hand when Allah shall no longer permit this:then shall his wrath fall upon them, and they shall be swept from theface of the earth. The hundred years of the white man's _raj_[2] arefulfilled, and the curse shall be lifted from us!"
[2] dominion.
The fanatic's voice rose to a wild shriek as he concluded the harangue.Ted could not follow the speech: he could only gather from the tone andgestures that he and his companion were the objects of abuse, and heguessed from the half-angry, half-cringing manner of the tradesman thatsomething serious was being said. Ethel, however, understood every word,and was alarmed.
They tried to leave the _bazar_, but found their progress barred.
"Out of the way, there!" the ensign commanded, but no one moved.
"Kill the kafir pigs!--there is no one to see!" called out a voice fromthe rear.
"No, no!" objected others hastily. "What harm have they done? And willnot the vengeance of the Whites be upon us all? Make way there for thesahib-log!"
But another of the bhang-drugged fanatics, who had been swaying to andfro in his delirium, screamed:
"Aye! Why not kill now?" and he roughly seized the white-faced girl.
With a savage exclamation the English boy sprang forward and struck thespeaker behind the ear with all his force. Not for nothing had EdwardRussell been trained in gymnastics, in boxing and fencing--the fellowdropped like a log. But before Ted could turn or draw his sword themullah had plucked a knife from beneath his scanty garment and plungedit in the lad's side.
"Die, unbeliever!" he cried.
As the ensign pressed his hands to his side and dropped to the earthwith a feeble moan, the screaming and jabbering of the by-standersceased as if by magic. Even the mullah and his disciples drew backappalled at what they had done, while the more timid of the crowd fledto their homes in dread of the consequences and the sure wrath of thesahibs, fearing lest vengeance should fall on innocent and guilty alikefor this murder of a white man. The merchants before whose shops the acthad been committed wrung their hands in despair, shrieking imprecationsdown upon the heads of the fanatics, who stood gazing at theirhandiwork.
The mullah's hesitation lasted but a second. He turned towards thetrembling girl, and called to his abettors:
"Finish off the lad while I slay the woman!"
Ethel Woodburn was a soldier's daughter: she had more than once lookeddanger in the face bravely and calmly. Had she been alone she might havehesitated, or had her companion been in a condition to protect her shemight have relied on him. But, seeing the boy of whom she was so fondstretched at her feet, cruelly wounded and helpless, and at the mercy ofthese madmen, her instinct prompted her to do the right thing without amoment's hesitation, and she blessed the father who had taught her tocarry and use a pistol.
The little weapon was hardly more than a toy, but it checked theassassins sufficiently to enable her to bend down swiftly and snatchTed's sword from its scabbard. The murderer was but a pace away when shepulled the trigger and stepped back. He fell, writhing, the bullet inhis chest. The second received the point of the sword under his arm-pitas he raised his hand to strike. The third assailant, dazed by the blowfrom Ted's fist, had now risen, and was hesitating as to his next step,when a couple of native police, attracted by the report and noise, ranup, and, being Sikhs, they had no hesitation in securing the uninjuredMohammedan, and they also prevented the crowd from carrying off thewounded Wahabis.[3]
[3] The most fanatical and implacable Moslem sect.
Never losing her presence of mind, Ethel bound the unconscious lad'swound to stop the bleeding, and ordered the by-standers to carry him tohis quarters, where the regimental surgeon attended to the injury. Thebangle had disappeared.
A few weeks later, when the injured persons had recovered, the threewould-be assassins were tried on the charge of attempted murder, andwere sentenced to long terms of imprisonment.
Some time elapsed before Ted was able to get about as usual. Had it notbeen for the bandage so promptly applied by Ethel he must have bled todeath, so she had saved his life in two different ways. During his slowand painful recovery he was nursed untiringly by his new sister; andthough she made light of her heroic deed, the girl's courage andpresence of mind were the chief themes of conversation with theofficers who frequently visited his bed-side, and the ensign's luckybrother became more envied than ever. Ethel invariably check
ed hisexpressions of gratitude, and would not allow him to talk about theincident.
"Bosh, Ted!" she would say; "I was in such a state of abject fear that Ididn't know what I was doing. I only shot the man because my handtrembled so that the trigger went off, and he happened to be in front."
"Certainly, Ethel, I quite understand. I'll just read you a letter I hadthis morning from Jim. You'd p'r'aps like to hear his opinion?"
"Oh, that boy's demented! I had a note also from him this morning. He'squite wild."
"Good chap Jim,--knows a thing or two!" said Ted, nodding his headsagely.
The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny Page 5