Jones of the 64th: A Tale of the Battles of Assaye and Laswaree

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER XVIII

  Colonel Le Pourton's Legacy

  "An order from this white fiend is obeyed as if he were an emperorindeed!" Owen repeated the very words to which Mulha had given utterancethat same afternoon when referring to the Colonel, and boldly enteredthe archway through which Colonel Le Pourton had disappeared. There wasa grim and determined look on his dust-smeared face which betokenedrecklessness, for our hero was in a corner.

  "Of what use is it to me to be free of my cell and yet unable to leavethe precincts of the palace?" he murmured. "Besides, there are thetroopers. They cannot leave till to-morrow without an order from thisman, and, well, he will have to give it. The risk is worth the attempt,and if this Colonel was so staggered at my answers to his questions,perhaps he will be even more so at my sudden appearance. If not, I willshoot him like a dog."

  He moistened his lips as he drew out his pistol, and taking advantage ofthe light saw that the weapon was primed and ready. Within the archwayhe could see a long corridor, lit by a second swinging Eastern lamp ofperforated metal-work, and in the distance another opening. The aroma oftobacco filled his nostrils, while he distinctly saw that thin wisps ofsmoke were issuing from this far room. Then the French colonel wasindulging in a smoke, and that pointed to the fact that he had no fearsas to the security of his prisoner. Owen took heart at the sight andpushed on without hesitation, determined to get the better of hisopponent. He thrust his hand beneath his coat, and treading lightly,advanced to the door.

  "Who is there? Speak at once," called the Colonel.

  "Your servant, sahib, come at the word of the sentry. The prisoner isfed and has settled for the night. I am told that you desire to speakwith him."

  "Enter. Come into the room, and listen to what I have to say. Later, wewill go to his cell."

  At the words Owen advanced again and stepped into the room, to find itbrilliantly illuminated, while the lamp hung over a central table atwhich the long figure of his enemy lounged. Colonel Le Pourton had asyet no suspicion of the intention of his visitor or of his disguise, foras the escaping prisoner entered he barely glanced at him, and thenreturned to the work he had in hand. There were plans and maps beforehim, and on one of the latter he was tracing out the positions of thevarious British forces then in the field. At his elbow stood a massivegold box, in which was his store of tobacco, while he held between histhin lips the stem of an English clay pipe, so much beloved of ourforefathers. Smoke issued in thin puffs from his lips and from hisnose and billowed into the room, almost hiding him from view, andobscuring some portion of the decorated ceiling, the limp Easternhangings, and the rich mats which lay on the floor. Owen salaamed, withone hand to his forehead, while he still concealed his pistol.

  COLONEL LE POURTON WAS STARING DOWN THE MUZZLE OF THEWEAPON

  _Page 298_]

  "You called, my lord," he said. "I am here."

  Had he cared he could have shot the Frenchman where he stood with thegreatest ease and security, for Colonel Le Pourton was wont to treat allnatives as if they were dust beneath his feet. It was not his custom tointerrupt any matter upon which he might be engaged because a servanthappened to enter his room; and so, for a minute at least, he stoodthere, lounging over the table, making dots upon the map with a penciland puffing clouds of smoke into the air. At length he dropped thepencil, smoothed out the map, and slowly swung round to interview hisvisitor. His eyes fell first upon the stranger's elaborate turban, andthen travelled to his face. He opened his lips to speak, taking the pipeout as he did so, and then his jaw dropped, his eyes seemed to startfrom his head, while his moustaches bristled. He staggered back to thetable, and leaned one hand upon it. Then his eyes went to his sabre,which stood against the far side, a growl escaping his lips as he sawthat it was out of reach. But he could shout. He could call and givewarning to the sentries at the gate. Owen could almost read histhoughts, and saw his lips open again for the purpose of calling. But hehad a means within his hand to silence his enemy, and at the sight hispistol flashed out from beneath his coat and in less than a secondColonel Le Pourton was staring with protruding eyes down the muzzle ofthe weapon.

  "It is much the same to me, Colonel," said Owen in the Mahrattalanguage, wonderfully cool now that the time for action had arrived. "Iwas to have been murdered to-night. If you call out or attemptopposition I will fire, and will at least have the pleasure of seeingyou die first. Silence, sir! Sit down!"

  There was no mistaking the tone of the order, nor the fact that ColonelLe Pourton in his own apartments, looking down the muzzle of a loadedpistol, was a different individual from the proud and overbearing whiteofficer when in front of Holkar's troops. He weakened. A coldperspiration broke out on his forehead and trickled down his temples.His nervous hands gripped the edge of the table, while what colour hehad had disappeared entirely. He became a child, and feebly whined formercy.

  "I would have rescued you," he said. "It was all Holkar's doing. But youwould have gone free. I myself would have seen to that."

  "Silence!" Owen strode a pace nearer and placed the muzzle against hisforehead.

  "Another lie such as that and I will blow out your brains," he saidsternly, though his heart fluttered now with excitement. "You would haveset me free! You will do so. There is paper there. Here is a pen.Prepare to write."

  Obedient to every command, the servile Frenchman did as he was told, andscrawled the words which Owen dictated, tracing them across the paperin feeble letters which jostled one another, for his hands weretrembling.

  "From Colonel Le Pourton, to the officer on guard, and to thosestationed at the gates. Holkar bids you pass these twenty troopers,their officer and his servant, in safety, without molestation, from thecity."

  "That is right, and now we can proceed," said Owen, becoming calmer asthe moments passed. "Now look at me. You asked me certain questions. Howdid they interest you?"

  He had no intention of sparing his enemy, and as the Frenchman turned apair of shifty eyes upon his, the pistol again went to his forehead.

  "I cannot say," was the trembling answer. "It was merely curiosity. Iknow nothing of you or yours."

  Owen could see that the man was not telling the truth, and would havepushed the question. Then he frowned at his prisoner, while he stillkept the weapon at his head.

  "Pshaw!" he thought. "Important though the answer may be, it cannot beof such moment as is the question of escape. Some day we may meet again,and then I will find time to force him to answer. Listen," he went on."I believe that your questions were prompted by something more thancuriosity, and that you are lying to me. We may meet again, and then Iwill learn what you know. For the present, I have more for you to do.Stand in the corner there and strip your clothing."

  By now the small store of courage possessed by the Colonel wasbeginning to return, and he flashed back a look of defiance at our hero.But Owen gave him little opportunity of going farther. Within a momenthe buffeted his enemy across the face, striking him with his open hand.

  "Obey me instantly!" he commanded in stern tones. "I give you fiveseconds."

  The Frenchman's courage was not proof against such an attack, and hecollapsed immediately. Rising from his chair, he tottered to the farcorner and slowly began to divest himself of his clothing, till Owenhastened him with a glance which threatened further violence. A minutelater the Colonel stood naked but for a thin under-garment.

  "What is in the smaller room beyond?" demanded Owen, for his eye hadseen another door, wide open, and a space beyond. "But I will see formyself. Take that lamp. Now walk before me, and recollect that I willshoot you with pleasure."

  Following his prisoner, he entered the chamber beyond, to ascertain thatit was merely a storeroom filled with maps and other documents, andentirely devoid of windows.

  "The very place for him," thought Owen. "I will have two strings to mybow on this occasion--the pass which he has signed, and the disguisewhich he has so kindly provided
. Give me the lamp," he went on. "Youwill stay here while I arrange matters in the other room. I warn youthat if you attempt to give an alarm I will enter and shoot you. Youwould have murdered me to-night in cold blood, and you must not mind ifI feel disposed to kill you on the smallest pretext."

  He carried the lamp to the table, keeping his face to his prisoner, thenhe banged the door of the inner room and secured it with the key whichwas in the lock. Tucking the pistol into his belt, he then wrestled witha chest which stood in one corner, and by using all his strength movedit over against the door. That done, he wasted no further time on hisprisoner, but rapidly donned his clothing. He was ready within a fewminutes, and stood looking at himself in a fine glass of Europeanmanufacture set in a gilded frame of Mahratta workmanship.

  "A little short, and distinctly youngish," he said. "But theimpersonation is fairly good, and with something over my mouth will do.I'll risk it."

  He was still examining his figure with some satisfaction when a stepoutside called his attention, and he sprang to the door and stepped intothe passage. Some one was entering, and in a moment he recognised thesentry who had been stationed at the foot of the stairway leading to hisprison. The man salaamed as Owen appeared, remaining with his head tothe tips of his fingers, in abject humility. Owen swung round at once,so as to hide his face, while he appeared to be engaged in looking atsomething in the room.

  "What is it?" he demanded curtly, attempting to imitate the accent ofhis prisoner.

  "The jailer, my lord. I have searched for him--we have all searchedevery corner of the palace, and without success. There are groanscoming from the cell where the prisoner is, and we fancy that he may bethere."

  "Then you can ease your minds, dolts that you all are," answered Owen inrasping tones. "The man is here, engaged with me, and will remaintill--till the time comes for him to visit his prisoner. Go back to yourpost, and bid the man at the gate make ready to pass me out. I am goingwithout the palace for a little while."

  He turned to watch the Mahratta salaaming, and then stared after hisretreating figure, his heart palpitating, for discovery had beennarrowly averted. When he was gone, he took the lamp again and inspectedthe door behind which the Frenchman was secured, and finding nothingthere to disturb his mind, he slung the Colonel's sword to his belt,picked up his pistol, and drawing a silk scarf which happened to be inthe room about his mouth went into the passage. Closing the door, helocked it, doing the same with the one which led into the garden. Thenhe tossed the keys into the bushes, flinging after them those whichopened the door of the cell in which he had been quartered.

  "And now for the gate and freedom," he said. "If the fellow on dutydares to stop me----"

  He eased the sabre and strode on, the weapon clanking at his heels. Andpresently he was before the gates, to find three of the Mahrattasstanding there, their pikes across their shoulders, while the gatesstood wide open. Nodding curtly in acknowledgment of their salute, hepassed into the street and turned in the direction opposite to that inwhich he knew his comrades to be quartered. Then he swung into the firstside street, and again to the right, till he came to the back of thebuilding in which Mulha had told him he would find his troopers. Lightswere burning within, and some feet above his head there was an openwindow. Owen picked up a stone and threw it in, sending a second afterit. A head suddenly appeared, there was a sharp cry, and within a coupleof seconds a lithe and active form had slipped through the window,dropped to the ground, and was weeping and kneeling at his feet,grasping his ankles and legs as if begging life itself from the escapedprisoner.

  "Sahib, we have a ladder here. Mount and tell us all that has happened."

  The native officer, whose head and shoulders now protruded from thewindow, lowered a light and flimsy ladder made of sacking, and sternlybade Mulha leave the officer.

  "Silence!" he whispered hoarsely. "Would you that the sahib should nowbe taken when he has made good his escape? Silence!"

  "Steady, Mulha. I'm glad to see you. Now, up we go."

  In less than a minute he was standing on the floor of a loft, lit by acouple of smoky native lamps, and on which his twenty troopers had beenreclining. Now, however, they stood about him exclaiming, giving vent totheir joy.

  "To-morrow we were to have marched, and this night----"

  "I know the tale," said Owen, interrupting the native officer. "Theorders are reversed. To-night we march. To-morrow--well, we may bekilled. Are the horses saddled?"

  "All is in readiness according to your orders, sahib."

  "And is there a door by which we can get out without leading into themain street?"

  "There is, sahib. The locks are opened already."

  "Then listen. My jailer is lying stunned in my cell. The Frenchman whoinfluences Holkar, and who would have killed me to-night, is a prisonerin his own apartments, and is no doubt making frantic efforts to escapeor sound the alarm. I am in his place for the moment, for I have takenhis clothes. The ruse may or may not succeed. If not, and the guards atthe gates refuse to pass us, draw and cut them down at once. For we mustnot delay. We shall have to ride yet for our lives."

  "Silence!" There was a buzz of excitement as Owen rapidly sketched histale, but the native officer quelled it on the instant. He lifted hishand, and at once all became silent.

  "To your horses and mount," he said. "The sahib leads, and you willfollow in your order. I claim the post of honour."

  There was a flash in his eye as the gallant fellow claimed to pass lastout of the city, and then the troopers scattered. Running lightly overthe floor, they went to the stables below, and in less than threeminutes all were mounted--Owen on his favourite Mahratta horse, Mulhajust at his elbow, and the troopers in file behind them. It was verydark down there, but not so dark that they could not make out theoutlines of the building. But in any case the horses knew where theywere, and wanted only directing. At a touch from Owen's heel the partyset out, and rapidly passed through the door of the building. Closing upas they gained the street, they rode in a compact body, their horses'hoofs clattering now and again as they passed over stony ground. Butthere had been recent rain, and thanks to that their progress was forthe most part silent. At length they arrived within a hundred yards ofthe gate of Indore, and halted to reconnoitre.

  "Hark! A horse galloping!"

  Mulha lifted his hand and touched Owen's elbow, while all sat still,listening intently. And soon there could be no doubt that a horse wasthundering down a neighbouring street and was coming towards the gates.More than that, the man who rode this unseen animal shouted at the topof his voice, and even at that distance Owen could see that the sentriesat the gate had come together and were discussing the matter.

  "The Colonel must have got free, or the jailer has been discovered," hesaid suddenly. "Trot! Gallop!"

  He set his heels to his horse, and followed by his troopers dashed downupon the gate, drawing his sabre as he rode. And when within somefifteen yards of the gate the horse which had first roused theirsuspicion burst from a street close beside them, and turning to the gatecrashed on towards it, its hoofs striking sparks from the stones.Mounted upon the beast was a strange figure; for, if Owen could believehis eyes, there was the white leader of Holkar's forces, naked but for alight under-garment, his bare legs and arms showing and his moustachesblowing in the wind.

  "Treachery! Keep the gates closed and turn out the guard. Treachery!" heshouted.

  Owen waved his sabre over his head and again set his heels to his horse.It was a race, and the Colonel had barely the best of it. Dashing up tothe astonished sentries, he pulled in his horse with such a jerk thatthe animal slid some four yards on its heels, scattering stones andsparks. Then he fell from the saddle, and leaping to his feet, rushedinto the guard-house. A musket flashed, and a ball flew past thetroopers. Shouts filled the air, while armed men appeared from alldirections, seeming almost to rise from the ground. Then another musketflashed from the window of the guard-house, and the bullet struck Owen'ssabre with a sharp me
tallic sound, glancing from it and hitting the wallbehind.

  "Hold them while I open the gate," shouted our hero, flinging himselffrom the saddle--an example which Mulha and two of the troopersfollowed, while the remainder, some with their lances, but the majoritywith their sabres, charged at the enemy, scattering them.

  "Here is the bar. Up with it! Now pull!"

  Fortunately there was no lock, and therefore little difficulty inopening the gates. In little more than a minute one was thrown back, andthe way was open. Owen climbed into his saddle, gave the word to hismen, and was in the very act of departing when the figure of the Colonelappeared at the door of the guard-house. He was beside himself withrage, and could barely control his actions. But now was his opportunity,for the attention of the troopers was taken from the guard-house. Helevelled a musket which he snatched from one of the soldiers, took ascareful aim as his excitement would allow, and pressed the trigger.

  "To Cornet Owen Jones," he shouted, as the bullet struck. "A legacy fromColonel Le Pourton."

  He stood there at the door, clutching the woodwork and eagerly watchingto see what effect his shot would have. His eyes started from his head,so great was his eagerness, and when Owen tottered and fell from hissaddle the inhuman Frenchman gave vent to a shriek of joy which could beheard at the palace.

  "Down! Mon dieu! He is killed! At last this matter is settled!"

  There was a shout of rage from the troopers, two of them slipping fromtheir saddles and lifting their officer. Then as they raised him to thearms of Mulha there was a fierce cry from the native officer.

  "See how he gloats over the death of the sahib," he cried, his eyesblazing with wrath. "This for the French leader of Holkar's army. Thisfor all who serve the false and treacherous chief."

  He spurred towards the guard-house, mounted the steps, and cut theColonel down with a terrific blow from his sabre. Then he turned theweapon upon the other soldiers standing near, and so great was theterror that he inspired that within two minutes the guard-house, thegates, and their surroundings were cleared.

  "Is the sahib lifted and cared for?" he demanded. "Tell me not that heis dead! If that be so, then I swear that we will turn and rout out moreof these traitors, for I care not to live while the sahib falls."

  "Come," said Mulha shortly. "He lives. The bullet has struck him hardly,but he will recover with care. Ride on, or we shall all be taken."

  They galloped through the gates, one of the troopers leading Owen'shorse, and did not draw rein till they had covered some five miles.

  "What are the injuries? Let us see to them now while we are halted."

  The officer dropped from his saddle and took Owen from Mulha. Then, withthe light of the moon to help them, they exposed the wound in his sideand dressed it as well as they were able.

  "With care, he will recover," said Mulha with authority. "But he musthave rest. To ride far will be to kill him."

  "While to halt will lead to his death with equal certainty. We mustride, but not in this direction. We will make for Agra."

  Turning their horses, they trotted on into the night, and, managing toelude the swarms of horsemen sent to pursue them, finally came to a haltin a shady wood some twenty miles away.

  "He shall ride in a litter," said Mulha, as he and the native officerdiscussed the question. "The journey will do no harm if taken slowly,for the injury is not so grave as appeared at first. We will construct astretcher to be borne by two of the horses."

  Two days later when they set out, Owen, now quite conscious, lay snuglyin a long litter made of bamboos, the side members of which werefastened in front and behind to a saddle in such manner that even if thetroopers who rode the two horses happened to let their beasts getsomewhat far from one another the stretcher could not fall. And in thisway they came at length to Agra and fell in with the division undercommand of the famous General Lake. Owen was at once transferred to thehospital.