by G. A. Henty
All day the signals to the fleet were kept flying, but not a ship moved. All night, an anxious watch was kept, in hopes that, at the last moment, some returning feeling of shame might induce the recreants to send up the boats of the ships. But the night passed without a movement on the river, and in the morning the fleet were seen, still lying at anchor.
The enemy recommenced the attack, even more vigorously than before. The men fell fast and, to Charlie’s great grief, his friend Mr. Haines was shot by a bullet, as he was standing next to him. Charlie anxiously knelt beside him.
“It is all over with me,” he murmured. “Poor little Ada. Do all you can for her, Marryat. God knows what fate is in store for her.”
“I will protect her with my life, sir,” Charlie said earnestly.
Mr. Haines pressed his hand feebly, in token of gratitude; and, two or three minutes later, breathed his last.
By midday, the loss had been so heavy that the men would no longer stand to their guns. Many of the European soldiers broke open the spirit stores, and soon drank to intoxication.
After a consultation with his officers, Mr. Holwell agreed that further resistance was hopeless. The flag of truce was therefore hoisted, and one of the officers at once started for the nabob’s camp, with instructions to make the best terms he could for the garrison. When the gates were opened the enemy, seizing the opportunity, rushed in in great numbers; and as resistance was impossible, the garrison laid down their arms.
Charlie at once hurried to the spot where Ada, and the only other European lady who had not escaped, were anxiously awaiting news. Both were exhausted with weeping.
“Where is papa, Captain Marryat?” Ada asked.
Charlie knew that the poor girl would need all her strength, for what she might have to undergo; and at once resolved that, for the present at least, it would be better that she should be in ignorance of the fate of her father. He therefore said that, for the present, Mr. Haines was unable to come, and had asked him to look after her.
It was not until five o’clock that the nabob entered the fort. He was furious at hearing that only five lacs of rupees had been found in the treasury, as he had expected to become possessed of a vastly larger sum. Kissendas, the first cause of the present calamities, was brought before him; but the capricious tyrant, contrary to expectation, received him courteously, and told him he might return to Dacca. The whole of the Eurasians, or half castes, and natives found in the fort were also allowed to return to their homes.
Mr. Holwell was then sent for, and after the nabob had expressed his resentment at the small amount found in the treasury, he was dismissed, the nabob assuring him of his protection. Mr. Holwell returned to his English companions, who, one hundred and forty-six in number, including the two ladies, were drawn up under the veranda in front of the prison. The nabob then returned to his camp.
Some native officers went in search of some building where the prisoners could be confined, but every room in the fort had already been taken possession of, by the nabob’s soldiers and officers. At eight o’clock, they returned with the news that they could find no place vacant, and the officer in command at once ordered the prisoners into a small room, used as a guardroom for insubordinate soldiers, eighteen feet square.
In vain they protested that it was impossible the room could contain them, in vain implored the officer to allow some of them to be confined in an adjoining cell. The wretch was deaf to their entreaties. He ordered his soldiers to charge the prisoners, and these, with blows of the butt ends of the muskets, and prods of the bayonets, were driven into the narrow cell.
Tim Kelly had kept close to his master, during the preceding days. The whole of the four native officers, who had so distinguished themselves under Charlie, were killed during the siege. Hossein, who would fain have shared his master’s fortunes, was forcibly torn from him, when the English prisoners were separated from the natives.
The day had been unusually hot. The night was close and sultry, and the arched veranda, outside, further hindered the circulation of the air. This was still heavy with the fumes of powder, creating an intolerable thirst. Scarcely were the prisoners driven into their narrow cell where, even standing wedged closely together, there was barely room for them, than cries for water were raised.
“Tim, my boy,” Charlie said to his companion, “we may say goodbye to each other now, for I doubt if one will be alive, when the door is opened in the morning.”
On entering Charlie, always keeping Ada Haines by his side, had taken his place against the wall farthest from the window, which was closed with iron bars.
“I think, yer honor,” Tim said, “that if we could get nearer to the window, we might breathe a little more easily.”
“Ay, Tim; but there will be a fight for life round that window, before long. You and I might hold our own, if we could get there, though it would be no easy matter where all are struggling for life; but this poor little girl would be crushed to death. Besides, I believe that what chance there is, faint as it may be, is greater for us here than there. The rush towards the window, which is beginning already, as you see, will grow greater and greater; and the more men struggle and strive, the more air they require.
“Let us remain where we are. Strip off your coat and waistcoat, and breathe as quietly and easily as you can. Every hour the crowd will thin, and we may yet hold on till morning.”
This conversation had been held in a low voice. Charlie then turned to the girl.
“How are you feeling, Ada?” he asked cheerfully. “It’s hot, isn’t it!”
“It is dreadful,” the girl panted, “and I seem choking from want of air; and oh, Captain Marryat, I am so thirsty!”
“It is hot, my dear, terribly hot, but we must make the best of it; and I hope, in a few days, you will join your mamma on board ship. That will be pleasant, won’t it?”
“Where is papa?” the girl wailed.
“I don’t know where he is now, my child. At any rate, we must feel very glad that he’s not shut up here, with us. Now take your bonnet off, and your shawl, and undo the hooks of your dress, and loosen everything you can. We must be as quiet and cheerful as possible. I’m afraid, Ada, we have a bad time before us tonight. But try to keep cheerful and quiet; and above all, dear, pray God to give you strength to carry you through it, and to restore you safe to your mamma, in a few days.”
As time went on, the scene in the dungeon became terrible. Shouts, oaths, cries of all kinds, rose in the air. Round the window men fought like wild beasts, tearing each other down, or clinging to the bars for dear life, for a breath of the air without. Panting, struggling, crying, men sank exhausted upon the floor, and the last remnants of life were trodden out of them, by those who surged forward to get near the window.
In vain, Mr. Holwell implored them to keep quiet, for their own sakes. His voice was lost in the terrible din. Men, a few hours ago rich and respected merchants, now fought like maddened beasts for a breath of fresh air. In vain, those at the window screamed to the guards without, imploring them to bring water. Their prayers and entreaties were replied to only with brutal scoffs.
Several times Charlie and Tim, standing together against the wall behind, where there was now room to move, lifted Ada between them, and sat her on their shoulders in order that, raised above the crowd, she might breathe more freely. Each time, after sitting there for a while, the poor girl begged to come down again; the sight of the terrible struggle, ever going on at the window, being too much for her; and when released, leaning against Charlie, supported by his arm, with her head against his shoulder, and her hands over her ears to shut out the dreadful sounds which filled the cell.
Hour passed after hour. There was more room now, for already half the inmates of the place had succumbed. The noises, too, had lessened, for no longer could the parched lips and throats utter articulate sounds. Charlie and Tim, strong men as they were, leaned utterly exhausted against the wall, bathed in perspiration, gasping for air.
“Half the night must be gone, Tim,” Charlie said, “and I think, with God’s help, we shall live through it. The numbers are lessening fast, and every one who goes leaves more air for the rest of us.
“Cheer up, Ada dear, ’twill not be very long till morning.”
“I think I shall die soon,” the girl gasped. “I shall never see papa or mamma again. You have been very kind, Captain Marryat, but it is no use.”
“Oh, but it is of use,” Charlie said cheerfully. “I don’t mean to let you die at all, but to hand you over to mamma, safe and sound. There, lay your head against me, dear, and say your prayers, and try and go off to sleep.”
Presently, however, Ada’s figure drooped more and more, until her whole weight leaned upon Charlie’s arm.
“She has fainted, Tim,” he said. “Help me to raise her well in my arms, and lay her head on my shoulder. That’s right. Now, you’ll find her shawl somewhere under my feet; hold it up, and make a fan of it. Now, try to send some air into her face.”
By this time, not more than fifty out of the hundred and forty-six who entered the cell were alive. Suddenly a scream of joy, from those near the window, proclaimed that a native was approaching with some water. The struggle at the window was fiercer than ever. The bowl was too wide to pass through the bars, and the water was being spilt in vain; each man who strove to get his face far enough through to touch the bowl being torn back, by his eager comrades behind.
“Tim,” Charlie said, “you are now much stronger than most of them. They are faint from the struggles. Make a charge to the window. Take that little shawl and dip it into the bowl, or whatever they have there, and then fight your way back with it.”
“I will do it, yer honor,” said Tim, and he rushed into the struggling group.
Weak as he was from exhaustion and thirst, he was as a giant to most of the poor wretches, who had been struggling and crying all night; and, in spite of their cries and curses, he broke through them and forced his way to the window.
The man with the bowl was on the point of turning away, the water being spilt in the vain attempts of those within to obtain it. By the light of the fire which the guard had lit without, Tim saw his face.
“Hossein,” he exclaimed, “more water, for God’s sake! The master’s alive yet.”
Hossein at once withdrew, but soon again approached with the bowl. The officer in charge angrily ordered him to draw back.
“Let the infidel dogs howl,” he said. “They shall have no more.”
Regardless of the order, Hossein ran to the window, and Tim thrust the shawl into the water at the moment when the officer, rushing forward, struck Hossein to the ground: a cry of anguish rising from the prisoners, as they saw the water dashed from their lips.
Tim made his way back to the side of his master. Had those who still remained alive been aware of the supply of water which he carried, in the shawl, they would have torn it from him; but none save those just at the window had noticed the act, and inside it was still entirely dark.
“Thank God, yer honor, here it is,” Tim said; “and who should have brought it, but Hossein. Shure, yer honor, we both owe our lives to him this time, for I’m sure I should have been choked by thirst, before morning.”
Ada was now lowered to the ground and, forcing her teeth asunder, a corner of the folded shawl was placed between her lips, and the water allowed to trickle down. With a gasping sigh, she presently recovered.
“That is delicious,” she murmured. “That is delicious.”
Raising her to her feet, Charlie and Tim both sucked the dripping shawl, until the first agonies of thirst were relieved. Then, tearing off a portion, in case Ada should again require it, Charlie passed the shawl to Mr. Holwell; who, after sucking it for a moment, again passed it on to several standing round; and in this way many of those, who would otherwise have succumbed, were enabled to hold on until morning.
Presently the first dawn of daylight appeared, giving fresh hopes to the few survivors. There were now only some six or eight standing by the window, and a few standing or leaning against the walls around. The room itself was heaped high with the dead.
It was not until two hours later that the doors were opened, and the guard entered; and it was found that, of the hundred and forty-six Englishmen inclosed there the night before, but twenty-three still breathed. Of these, very few retained strength to stagger out through the door. The rest were carried out, and laid in the veranda.
When the nabob came into the fort in the morning, he ordered Mr. Holwell to be brought before him. He was unable to walk, but was carried to his presence. The brutal nabob expressed no regret for what had happened, but loaded him with abuse, on account of the paucity of the treasure, and ordered him to be placed in confinement. The other prisoners were also confined in a cell. Ada, the only English female who had survived the siege, was torn, weeping, from Charlie’s arms, and conveyed to the zenana, or ladies’ apartments, of one of the nabob’s generals.
A few days later, the English captives were all conveyed to Moorshedabad, where the rajah also returned, after having extorted large sums from the French and Dutch, and confiscated the whole of the property of the English in Bengal.
The prospect was a gloomy one for the captives. That the English would, in time, return and extort a heavy reckoning from the nabob, they did not doubt for a moment. But nothing was more likely than that, at the news of the first disaster which befell his troops, the nabob would order his captives to be put to death.
Upon the march up the country Charlie had, by his cheerfulness and good temper, gained the goodwill of the officer commanding the guard; and upon arriving at their destination, he recommended him so strongly to the commander of the prison that the latter, instead of placing him in the apartment allotted to the remainder of the prisoners, assigned a separate room to him; permitting Tim, at his request, to occupy it with him. It was a room of fair size, in a tower on one of the angles of the walls. It had bars, but these did not prevent those behind them looking out at the country which stretched around. The governor of the prison, finding that Charlie spoke the language fluently, often came up to sit with him, conversing with him on the affairs of that unknown country, England.
Altogether, they were fairly treated. Their food was plentiful and, beyond their captivity, they had little to complain of. Over and over again, they talked about the possibilities of effecting an escape; but, on entering the prison, they had noticed how good was the watch, how many and strong the doors through which they had passed. They had meditated upon making a rope and escaping from the window; but they slept on the divan, each with a rug to cover them; and these, torn into strips and twisted, would not reach a quarter of the way from their window to the ground; and there was no other material of which a rope could possibly have been formed.
“Our only hope,” Charlie said one day, “is in Hossein. I am sure he will follow us to the death; and if he did but know where we are confined, he would not, I am certain, rest day or night, till he had opened a communication with us.
“See, Tim, there is my regimental cap, with its gold lace. Let us fasten it outside the bars, with a thread from that rug. Of course, we must remove it when we hear anyone coming.”
This was speedily done and, for the next few days, one or other remained constantly at the window.
“Mr. Charles!” Tim exclaimed in great excitement, one day; “there is a man I’ve been watching, for the last half hour. He seems to be picking up sticks, but all the while he keeps getting nearer and nearer, and two or three times it seems to me that he has looked up in this direction.”
Charlie joined Tim at the window.
“Yes, Tim, you are right. That’s Hossein, I’m pretty sure.”
The man had now approached within two or three hundred yards of the corner of the wall. He was apparently collecting pieces of dried brushwood, for firing. Presently, he glanced in the direction of the window. Charlie thrust his arm through the bar, and waved his
hand. The man threw up his arm with a gesture which, to a casual observer, would have appeared accidental; but which the watchers had no doubt, whatever, was intended for them. He was still too far off from them to be able to distinguish his features, but they had not the least doubt that it was Hossein.
WITH CLIVE IN INDIA [Part 3]
CHAPTER 19
A Daring Escape
“And what’s to be done next, Mister Charles? That’s Hossein, sure enough, but it don’t bring us much nearer to getting out.”
“The first thing is to communicate with him in some way, Tim.”
“If he’d come up to the side of the moat, yer honor might spake to him.”
“That would never do, Tim. There are sure to be sentries on the walls of the prison. We must trust to him. He can see the sentries, and will know best what he can do.”
It was evident that Hossein did not intend doing anything, at present; for, still stooping and gathering brushwood, he gradually withdrew farther and farther from the wall. Then they saw him make his sticks into a bundle, put them on his shoulder, and walk away. During the rest of the day, they saw no more of Hossein.
“I will write,” Charlie said, “—fortunately I have a pencil—telling him that we can lower a light string down to the moat, if he can manage to get underneath with a cord which we can hoist up, and that he must have two disguises in readiness.”
“I don’t think Hossein can read,” Tim said, “any more than I can, myself.”
“I daresay not, Tim, but he will probably have friends in the town. There are men who were employed in the English factory at Kossimbazar, hard by. These will be out of employment, and will regret the expulsion of the English. We can trust Hossein. At any rate, I will get it ready.