Rujub, the Juggler

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER XXII.

  Bathurst knew the Doctor well, and perceived that glad as he was to havemet them, he was yet profoundly depressed in spirits. This, added to thefact that he had left Cawnpore that morning, instead of waiting as hehad intended, convinced Bathurst that what he dreaded had taken place.He waited until Isobel stopped for a moment, that Rabda might rearrangethe cloth folded round her in its proper draping. Then he said quickly,"I heard yesterday what was intended, Doctor. Is it possible that it hasbeen done?"

  "It was done this morning."

  "What, all? Surely not all, Doctor?"

  "Every soul--every woman and child. Think of it--the fiends! the devils!The native brought me the news. If I had heard it in the streets ofCawnpore I should have gone mad and seized a sword and run amuck. As itwas, I was well nigh out of mind. I could not stay there. The man wouldhave sheltered me until the troops came up, but I was obliged to bemoving, so I started down. Hush! here comes Isobel; we must keep it fromher."

  "Now, Isobel," he went on, as the girl joined them, and they all startedalong the road, "tell me how it is I find you here."

  "Mr. Bathurst must tell you, Doctor; I cannot talk about it yet--I canhardly think about it."

  "Well, Bathurst, let us hear it from you."

  "It is a painful story for me to have to tell."

  Isobel looked up in surprise.

  "Painful, Mr. Bathurst? I should have thought--" and she stopped.

  "Not all painful, Miss Hannay, but in parts. I would rather tellyou, Doctor, when we have finished our journey this evening, if yourcuriosity will allow you to wait so long."

  "I will try to wait," the Doctor replied, "though I own it is a trial.Now, Isobel, you have not told me yet what has happened to your face.Let me look at it closer, child. I see your arms are bad, too. What onearth has happened to you?"

  "I burnt myself with acid, Doctor. Mr. Bathurst will tell you all aboutit."

  "Bless me, mystery seems to thicken. Well, you have got yourself into apretty pickle. Why, child, burns of that sort leave scars as bad as ifyou had been burnt by fire. You ought to be in a dark room with yourface and hands bandaged, instead of tramping along here in the sun."

  "I have some lotions and some ointment, Doctor. I have used themregularly since it was done, and the places don't hurt me much now."

  "No, they look healthy enough," he said, examining them closely."Granulation is going on nicely; but I warn you you will be disfiguredfor months, and it may be years before you get rid of the scars. Idoubt, indeed, if you will ever get rid of them altogether. Well, well,what shall we talk about?"

  "I will take pity on you, Doctor. I will walk on ahead with Rabda andher father, and Mr. Bathurst can then tell you his story."

  "That will be the best plan, my dear. Now then, Bathurst, fire away," hesaid, when the others had gone on thirty or forty yards ahead.

  "Well, Doctor, you remember that you were forward talking to the youngZemindar, and I was sitting aft by the side of Miss Hannay, when theyopened fire?"

  "I should think I do remember it," the Doctor said, "and I am not likelyto forget it if I live to be a hundred. Well, what about that?"

  "I jumped overboard," Bathurst said, laying his hand impressivelyupon the Doctor's shoulder. "I gave a cry, I know I did, and I jumpedoverboard."

  The Doctor looked at him in astonishment.

  "Well, so did I, like a shot. But what do you say it in that tone for?Of course you jumped overboard. If you hadn't you would not be herenow."

  "You don't understand me, Doctor," Bathurst said gloomily. "I wassitting there next to Isobel Hannay--the woman I loved. We were talkingin low tones, and I don't know why, but at that moment the mad thoughtwas coming into my mind that, after all, she cared for me, that in spiteof the disgrace I had brought upon myself, in spite of being a coward,she might still be mine; and as I was thinking this there came thecrash of a cannon. Can it be imagined possible that I jumped up likea frightened hare, and without a thought of her, without a thought ofanything in my mad terror, jumped overboard and left her behind to herfate? If it had not been that as soon as I recovered my senses--I washit on the head just as I landed, and knew nothing of what happeneduntil I found myself in the bushes with young Wilson by my side--thethought occurred to me that I would rescue her or die in the attempt, Iwould have blown out my brains."

  "But, bless my heart, Bathurst," the Doctor said earnestly, "what elsecould you have done? Why, I jumped overboard without stopping to think,and so did everyone else who had power to do so, no doubt. What goodcould you have done if you had stayed? What good would it have done tothe girl if you had been killed? Why, if you had been killed, she wouldnow be lying mangled and dead with the others in that ghastly prison.You take too morbid a view of this matter altogether."

  "There was no reason why you should not have jumped overboard, Doctor,nor the others. Don't you see I was with the woman I loved? I might haveseized her in my arms and jumped overboard with her, and swam ashorewith her, or I might have stayed and died with her. I thought of my ownwretched life, and I deserted her."

  "My dear Bathurst, you did not think of your life. I don't think anyof us stopped to think of anything; but, constituted as you are, theimpulse must have been overpowering. It is nonsense your taking thismatter to heart. Why, man, if you had stopped, you would have beenmurdered when the boat touched the shore, and do you think it would havemade her happier to have seen you killed before her eyes? If you hadswam ashore with her, the chances are she would have been killed by thatvolley of grape, for I saw eight or ten bodies lying on the sands, andyou yourself were, you say, hit. You acted upon impulse, I grant, butit was upon a wise impulse. You did the very best thing that could havebeen done, and your doing so made it possible that Isobel Hannay shouldbe rescued from what would otherwise have been certain death."

  "It has turned out so, Doctor," Bathurst said gloomily, "and I thank Godthat she is saved. But that does not alter the fact that I, an Englishgentleman by birth, thought only of myself, and left the woman I loved,who was sitting by my side, to perish. But do not let us talk any moreabout it. It is done and over. There is an end of it. Now I will tellyou the story."

  The Doctor listened silently until he heard of Isobel's being taken toBithoor. "The atrocious villain!" he exclaimed. "I have been lamentingthe last month that I never poisoned the fellow, and now--but go on, goon. How on earth did you get her away?"

  Bathurst told the whole story, interrupted by many exclamations ofapproval by the Doctor; especially when he learned why Isobel disfiguredherself.

  "Well done!" he exclaimed; "I always knew that she was a plucky girl,and it needed courage, I can tell you, to burn herself as she hasdone, to say nothing of risking spoiling her beauty for life. No slightsacrifice for a woman."

  Bathurst passed lightly over his fight in the courtyard, but the Doctorquestioned him as to the exact facts.

  "Not so bad for a coward, Bathurst," he said dryly.

  "There was no noise," Bathurst said; "if they had had pistols, and hadused them, it might have been different. Heaven knows, but I don't thinkthat then, with her life at stake, I should have flinched; I had madeup my mind they would have pistols, but I hope--I think that my nerveswould not have given way then."

  "I am sure they wouldn't, Bathurst. Well, go on with your story."

  "Well, how did you feel then?" he asked, when Bathurst described how theguard rushed in through the gate firing, "for it is the noise, and notthe danger, that upsets you?"

  "I did not even think of it," Bathurst said, in some surprise. "Now youmention it, I am astonished that I was not for a minute paralyzed, asI always am, but I did not feel anything of the sort; they rushed infiring as I told you, and directly they had gone I took her hand and weran out together."

  "I think it quite possible, Bathurst, that your nervousness may havegone forever. Now that once you have heard guns fired close to youwithout your nerves giving way as usual, it is quite possible thatyou mig
ht do so again. I don't say that you would, but it is possible,indeed it seems to me to be probable. It may be that the sudden shockwhen you jumped into the water, acting upon your nerves when in a stateof extreme tension, may have set them right, and that bullet grazealong the top of the skull may have aided the effect of the shock. Menfrequently lose their nerve after a heavy fall from a horse, or a suddenattack by a tiger, or any other unexpected shock. It may be that withyou it has had the reverse consequence."

  "I hope to God that it may be so, Doctor," Bathurst said, with deepearnestness. "It is certainly extraordinary I should not have feltit when they fired within a few feet of my head. If we get down toAllahabad I will try. I will place myself near a gun when it is going tobe fired; and if I stand that I will come up again and join this columnas a volunteer, and take part in the work of vengeance. If I can butonce bear my part as a man, they are welcome to kill me in the nextengagement."

  "Pooh! pooh! man. You are not born to be killed in battle. After makingyourself a target on the roof at Deennugghur, and jumping down in themiddle of the Sepoys in the breach, and getting through that attack inthe boats, I don't think you are fated to meet your end with a bullet.Well, now let us walk on, and join the others. Isobel must be wonderinghow much longer we are going to talk together. She cannot exchange aword with the natives; it must be dull work for her. She is a greatdeal thinner than she was before these troubles came on. You see howdifferently she walks. She has quite lost that elastic step of hers, butI dare say that is a good deal due to her walking with bare feet insteadof in English boots--boots have a good deal to do with a walk. Look atthe difference between the walk of a gentleman who has always worn wellfitting boots and that of a countryman who has gone about in thick ironshod boots all his life. Breeding goes for something, no doubt, andalters a man's walk just as it alters a horse's gait."

  Bathurst could not help laughing at the Doctor dropping into his usualstyle of discussing things.

  "Are your feet feeling tender, Isobel?" the latter asked cheerfully, ashe overtook those in front.

  "No, Doctor," she said, with a smile; "I don't know that I was everthankful for dust before, but I am now; it is so soft that it is likewalking on a carpet, but, of course, it feels very strange."

  "You have only to fancy, my dear, that you are by the seaside, walkingdown from your bathing machine across the sands; once get that in yourmind and you will get perfectly comfortable."

  "It requires too great a stretch of the imagination, Doctor, to thinkfor a moment, in this sweltering heat, that I am enjoying a sea breezeon our English coast. It is silly, of course, to give it even a thought,when one is accustomed to see almost every woman without shoes. I thinkI should mind it more than I do if my feet were not stained. I don'tknow why, but I should. But please don't talk about it. I try to forgetit, and to fancy that I am really a native."

  They met but few people on the road. Those they did meet passed themwith the usual salutation. There was nothing strange in a party ofpeasants passing along the road. They might have been at work atCawnpore, and be now returning to their native village to get away fromthe troubles there. After it became dark they went into a clump of treeshalf a mile distant from a village they could see along the road.

  "I will go in," Rujub said, "and bring some grain, and hear what thenews is."

  He returned in an hour. "The English have taken Dong," he said; "thenews came in two hours ago. There has been some hard fighting; theSepoys resisted stoutly at the village, even advancing beyond theinclosures to meet the British. They were driven back by the artilleryand rifle fire, but held the village for some time before they wereturned out. There was a stand made at the Pandoo Bridge, but it was ashort one. The force massed there fell back at once when the Britishinfantry came near enough to rush forward at the charge, and in theirhurry they failed to blow up the bridge."

  A consultation was held as to whether they should try to join theBritish, but it was decided that as the road down to Allahabad would berendered safe by their advance, it would be better to keep straight on.

  The next day they proceeded on their journey, walking in the earlymorning, halting as soon as the sun had gained much power, and going onagain in the cool of the evening. After three days' walking they reachedthe fort of Allahabad. It was crowded with ladies who had come in fromthe country round. Most of the men were doing duty with the garrison,but some thirty had gone up with Havelock's column as volunteer cavalry,his force being entirely deficient in that arm.

  As soon as the Doctor explained who they were, they were received withthe greatest kindness, and Isobel was at once carried off by the ladies,while Bathurst and the Doctor were surrounded by an eager group anxiousto hear the state of affairs at Cawnpore, and how they had escaped. Thenews of the fighting at Dong was already known; for on the evening ofthe day of the fight Havelock had sent down a mounted messenger to saythe resistance was proving so severe that he begged some more troopsmight be sent up. As all was quiet now at Allahabad, where there had atfirst been some fierce fighting, General Neil, who was in command there,had placed two hundred and thirty men of the 84th Regiment in bullockvans, and had himself gone on with them.

  The Doctor had decided to keep the news of the massacre to himself.

  "They will know it before many hours are over, Bathurst," he said; "andwere I to tell them, half of them wouldn't believe me, and the otherhalf would pester my life out with questions. There is never anyoccasion to hurry in telling bad news."

  The first inquiry of Bathurst and his friends had been for Wilson, andthey found to their great pleasure that he had arrived in safety, andhad gone up with the little body of cavalry. Captain Forster, whom theynext asked for, had not reached Allahabad, and no news had been heard ofhim.

  "What are you going to do, Rujub?" Bathurst asked the native nextmorning.

  "I shall go to Patna," he said. "I have friends there, and I shallremain in the city until these troubles are over. I believe now that youwere right, sahib, although I did not think so when you spoke, and thatthe British Raj will be restored. I thought, as did the Sepoys, thatthey were a match for the British troops. I see now that I was wrong.But there is a tremendous task before them. There is all Oude and theNorthwest to conquer, and fully two hundred thousand men in arms againstthem, but I believe that they will do it. They are a great people, andnow I do not wish it otherwise. This afternoon I shall start."

  The Doctor, who had found many acquaintances in Allahabad, had nodifficulty in obtaining money from the garrison treasury, and Bathurstand Isobel purchased the two handsomest bracelets they could obtain fromthe ladies in the fort as a souvenir for Rabda, and gave them to herwith the heartiest expressions of their deep gratitude to her and herfather.

  "I shall think of you always, Rabda," Isobel said, "and shall begrateful to the end of my life for the kindness that you have done us.Your father has given us your address at Patna, and I shall write to youoften."

  "I shall never forget you, lady; and even the black water will not quiteseparate us. As I knew how you were in prison, so I shall know how youare in your home in England. What we have done is little. Did not thesahib risk his life for me? My father and I will never forget what weowe him. I am glad to know that you will make him happy."

  This was said in the room that had been allotted to Isobel, an ayah ofone of the ladies in the fort acting as interpreter. The girl had wokeup in the morning flushed and feverish, and the Doctor, when sent for,told her she must keep absolutely quiet.

  "I am afraid I am going to have her on my hands for a bit," he said toBathurst. "She has borne the strain well, but she looks to me as if shewas going to have a smart attack of fever. It is well that we got herhere before it showed itself. You need not look scared; it is just thereaction. If it had been going to be brain fever or anything of thatsort, I should have expected her to break down directly you got her out.No, I don't anticipate anything serious, and I am sure I hope that itwon't be so. I have put my name down to go up wit
h the next batch ofvolunteers. Doctors will be wanted at the front, and I hope to have achance of wiping out my score with some of those scoundrels. However,though I think she is going to be laid up, I don't fancy it will lastmany days."

  That afternoon a messenger from Havelock brought down the terrible newsthat they had fought their way to Cawnpore, only to find that the wholeof the ladies and children in the Subada Ke Kothee had been massacred,and their bodies thrown down a well. The grief and indignation caused bythe news were terrible; scarce one but had friends among the prisoners.Women wept; men walked up and down, wild with fury at being unable to doaught at present to avenge the massacre.

  "What are you going to do, Bathurst?" the Doctor asked that evening. "Isuppose you have some sort of plan?"

  "I do not know yet. In the first place, I want to try whether what yousaid the other day is correct, and if I can stand the noise of firingwithout flinching."

  "We can't try here in the fort," the Doctor said, full of interestin the experiment; "a musket shot would throw the whole garrison intoconfusion, and at present no one can go far from the gate; however,there may be a row before long, and then you will have an opportunityof trying. If there is not, we will go out together half a mile or so assoon as some more troops get up. You said, when we were talking about itat Deennugghur, you should resign your appointment and go home, but ifyou find your nerves are all right you may change your mind about that.How about the young lady in there?"

  "Well, Doctor, I should say that you, as her father's friend, are theperson to make arrangements for her. Just at present travel is not verysafe, but I suppose that directly things quiet down a little many of theladies will be going down to the coast, and no doubt some of them wouldtake charge of Miss Hannay back to England."

  "And you mean to have nothing to say in the matter?"

  "Nothing at all," he said firmly. "I have already told you my views onthe subject."

  "Well, then," the Doctor said hotly, "I regard you as an ass." Andwithout another word he walked off in great anger.

  For the next four or five days Isobel was in a high state of fever; itpassed off as the Doctor had predicted it would do, but left her veryweak and languid. Another week and she was about again.

  "What is Mr. Bathurst going to do?" she asked the Doctor the first dayshe was up on a couch.

  "I don't know what he is going to do, my dear," he said irritably; "myopinion of Bathurst is that he is a fool."

  "Oh, Doctor, how can you say so!" she exclaimed in astonishment; "why,what has he done?"

  "It isn't what he has done, but what he won't do, my dear. Here he is inlove with a young woman in every way suitable, and who is ready to sayyes whenever he asks her, and he won't ask, and is not going to ask,because of a ridiculous crotchet he has got in his head."

  Isobel flushed and then grew pale.

  "What is the crotchet?" she asked, in a low tone, after being silent forsome time.

  "What do you think, my dear? He is more disgusted with himself thanever."

  "Not about that nervousness, surely," Isobel said, "after all he hasdone and the way he has risked his life? Surely that cannot be troublinghim?"

  "It is, my dear; not so much on the general as on a particular ground.He insists that by jumping out of the boat when that fire began, he hasdone for himself altogether."

  "But what could he have done, Doctor?"

  "That's what I ask him, my dear. He insists that he ought to either haveseized you and jumped overboard with you, in which case you would bothprobably have been killed, as I pointed out to him, or else stayedquietly with you by your side, in which case, as I also pointed outto him, you would have had the satisfaction of seeing him murdered. Hecould not deny that this would have been so, but that in no way altershis opinion of his own conduct. I also ventured to point out to him thatif he had been killed, you would at this moment be either in the powerof that villainous Nana, or be with hundreds of others in that ghastlywell at Cawnpore. I also observed to him that I, who do not regardmyself as a coward, also jumped overboard from your boat, and thatWilson, who is certainly a plucky young fellow, and a number of others,jumped over from the other boat; but I might as well have talked to apost."

  Isobel sat for some time silent, her fingers playing nervously with eachother.

  "Of course it seems foolish of him to think of it so strongly, but Idon't think it is unnatural he should feel as he does."

  "May I ask why?" the Doctor said sarcastically.

  "I mean, Doctor, it would be foolish of other people, but I don't thinkit is foolish of him. Of course he could have done no good staying inthe boat--he would have simply thrown away his life; and yet I think,I feel sure, that there are many men who would have thrown away theirlives in such a case. Even at that moment of terror I felt a pang, when,without a word, he sprang overboard. I thought of it many times thatlong night, in spite of my grief for my uncle and the others, and myhorror of being a prisoner in the hands of the Sepoys. I did not blamehim, because I knew how he must have felt, and that it was done in amoment of panic. I was not so sorry for myself as for him, for I knewthat if he escaped, the thought of that moment would be terrible forhim. I need not say that in my mind the feeling that he should nothave left me so has been wiped out a thousand times by what he didafterwards, by the risk he ran for me, and the infinite service herendered me by saving me from a fate worse than death. But I can enterinto his feelings. Most men would have jumped over just as he did, andwould never have blamed themselves even if they had at once started awaydown the country to save their own lives, much less if they had stoppedto save mine as he has done.

  "But who can wonder that he is more sensitive than others? Did he nothear from you that I said that a coward was contemptible? Did not allthe men except you and my uncle turn their backs upon him and treat himwith contempt, in spite of his effort to meet his death by standing upon the roof? Think how awfully he must have suffered, and then, when itseemed that his intervention, which saved our lives, had to some extentwon him back the esteem of the men around him, that he should so failagain, as he considers, and that with me beside him. No wonder that hetakes the view he does, and that he refuses to consider that even thedevotion and courage he afterwards showed can redeem what he considersis a disgrace. You always said that he was brave, Doctor, and I believenow there is no braver man living; but that makes it so much the worsefor him. A coward would be more than satisfied with himself for what hedid afterwards, and would regard it as having completely wiped out anyfailing, while he magnifies the failing, such as it was, and places butsmall weight on what he afterwards did. I like him all the better forit. I know the fault, if fault it was, and I thought it so at the time,was one for which he was not responsible, and yet I like him all thebetter that he feels it so deeply."

  "Well, my dear, you had better tell him so," the Doctor said dryly. "Ireally agree with what you say, and you make an excellent advocate. Icannot do better than leave the matter in your hands. You know, child,"he said, changing his tone, "I have from the first wished for Bathurstand you to come together, and if you don't do so I shall say you arethe most wrong headed young people I ever met. He loves you, and I don'tthink there is any question about your feelings, and you ought to makematters right somehow. Unfortunately, he is a singularly pig headed manwhen he gets an idea in his mind. However, I hope that it will come allright. By the way, he asked were you well enough to see him today?"

  "I would rather not see him till tomorrow," the girl said.

  "And I think too that you had better not see him until tomorrow, Isobel.Your cheeks are flushed now, and your hands are trembling, and I do notwant you laid up again, so I order you to keep yourself perfectly quietfor the rest of the day."

  But it was not till two days later that Bathurst came up to see her.

  The spies brought in, late that evening, the news that a small party ofthe Sepoy cavalry, with two guns, were at a village three miles on theother side of the town, and were in communic
ation with the disaffected.It was decided at once by the officer who had succeeded General Neilin the command of the fort that a small party of fifty infantry,accompanied by ten or twelve mounted volunteers, should go out andattack them. Bathurst sent in his name to form one of the party as soonas he learned the news, borrowing the horse of an officer who was laidup ill.

  The expedition started two hours before daybreak, and, making a longdetour, fell upon the Sepoys at seven o'clock. The latter, who hadreceived news half an hour before of their approach, made a stand,relying on their cannon. The infantry, however, moved forward inskirmishing order, their fire quickly silenced the guns, and they thenrushed forward while the little troop of volunteers charged.

  The fight lasted but a few minutes, at the end of which time the enemygalloped off in all directions, leaving their guns in the hands of thevictors. Four of the infantry had been killed by the explosion of a wellaimed shell, and five of the volunteers were wounded in the hand to handfight with the sowars. The Sepoys' guns and artillery horses had beencaptured.

  The party at once set out on their return. On their way they had someskirmishing with the rabble of the town, who had heard the firing, butthey were beaten off without much difficulty, and the victors re-enteredthe fort in triumph. The Doctor was at the gate as they came in.Bathurst sprang from his horse and held out his hand. His radiant facetold its own story.

  "Thank God, Doctor, it has passed. I don't think my pulse went a beatfaster when the guns opened on us, and the crackle of our own musketryhad no more effect. I think it has gone forever."

  "I am glad indeed, Bathurst," the Doctor said, warmly grasping his hand."I hoped that it might be so."

  "No words can express how grateful I feel," Bathurst said. "The cloudthat shadowed my life seems lifted, and henceforth I shall be able tolook a man in the face."

  "You are wounded, I see," the Doctor said.

  "Yes, I had a pistol ball through my left arm. I fancy the bone isbroken, but that is of no consequence."

  "A broken arm is no trifle," the Doctor said, "especially in a climatelike this. Come into the hospital at once and let me see to it."

  One of the bones of the forearm was indeed broken, and the Doctor,having applied splints and bandages, peremptorily ordered him to liedown. Bathurst protested that he was perfectly able to get up with hisarm in a sling.

  "I know you are able," the Doctor said testily; "but if you were to goabout in this oven, we should very likely have you in a high fever bytomorrow morning. Keep yourself perfectly quiet for today; by tomorrow,if you have no signs of fever, and the wound is doing well, we will seeabout it."

  Upon leaving him Dr. Wade went out and heard the details of the fight.

  "Your friend Bathurst particularly distinguished himself," the officerwho commanded the volunteers said. "He cut down the ressaldar whocommanded the Sepoys, and was in the thick of it. I saw him run onesowar through and shoot another. I am not surprised at his fightingso well after what you have gone through in Deennugghur and in thatCawnpore business."

  The Doctor then went up to see Isobel. She looked flushed and excited.

  "Is it true, Doctor, that Mr. Bathurst went out with the volunteers, andthat he is wounded?"

  "Both items are true, my dear. Fortunately the wound is not serious. Aball has broken the small bone of the left forearm, but I don't think itwill lay him up for long; in fact, he objects strongly to go to bed."

  "But how did he--how is it he went out to fight, Doctor? I could hardlybelieve it when I was told, though of course I did not say so."

  "My dear, it was an experiment. He told me that he did not feel at allnervous when the Sepoys rushed in at the gate firing when he was walkingoff with you, and it struck me that possibly the sudden shock and thejump into the water when they attacked the boats, and that rap on thehead with a musket ball, might have affected his nervous system, andthat he was altogether cured, so he was determined on the first occasionto try."

  "And did it, Doctor?" Isobel asked eagerly. "I don't care, you know, onebit whether he is nervous when there is a noise or not, but for his sakeI should be glad to know that he has got over it; it has made him sounhappy."

  "He has got over it, my dear; he went through the fight without feelingthe least nervous, and distinguished himself very much in the charge, asthe officer who commanded his troop has just told me."

  "Oh, I am glad--I am thankful, Doctor; no words can say how pleased Iam; I know that it would have made his whole life unhappy, and I shouldhave always had the thought that he remembered those hateful words ofmine."

  "I am as glad as you are, Isobel, though I fancy it will change ourplans."

  "How change our plans, Doctor? I did not know that I had any plans."

  "I think you had, child, though you might not acknowledge them evento yourself. My plan was that you should somehow convince him that, inspite of what you said, and in spite of his leaving you in that boat,you were quite content to take him for better or for worse."

  "How could I tell him that?" the girl said, coloring.

  "Well, I think you would have had to do so somehow, my dear, but that isnot the question now. My plan was that when you had succeeded in doingthis you should marry him and go home with him."

  "But why, Doctor," she asked, coloring even more hotly than before, "isthe plan changed?"

  "Because, my dear, I don't think Bathurst will go home with you."

  "Why not, Doctor?" she asked, in surprise.

  "Because, my dear, he will want, in the first place, to rehabilitatehimself."

  "But no one knows, Doctor, about the siege and what happened there,except you and me and Mr. Wilson; all the rest have gone."

  "That is true, my dear, but he will want to rehabilitate himself in hisown eyes; and besides, that former affair which first set you againsthim, might crop up at any time. Other civilians, many of them, havevolunteered in the service, and no man of courage would like to go awayas long as things are in their present state. You will see Bathurst willstay."

  Isobel was silent.

  "I think he will be right," she said at last gravely; "if he wishes todo so, I should not try to dissuade him; it would be very hard to knowthat he is in danger, but no harder for me than for others."

  "That is right, my dear," the Doctor said affectionately; "I should notwish my little girl--and now the Major has gone I feel that you are mylittle girl--to think otherwise. I think," he went on, smiling, "thatthe first part of that plan we spoke of will not be as difficult asI fancied it would be; the sting has gone, and he will get rid of hismorbid fancies."

  "When shall I be able to see him?"

  "Well, if I had any authority over him you would not see him for a week;as I have not, I think it likely enough that you will see him tomorrow."

  "I would rather wait if it would do him any harm, Doctor."

  "I don't think it will do him any harm. Beyond the fact that he willhave to carry his arm in a sling for the next fortnight, I don't thinkhe will have any trouble with it."

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  The next morning Bathurst found Isobel Hannay sitting in a shady courtthat had been converted into a sort of general room for the ladies inthe fort.

  "How are you, Miss Hannay? I am glad to see you down."

  "I might repeat your words, Mr. Bathurst, for you see we have changedplaces. You are the invalid, and not I."

  "There is very little of the invalid about me," he said. "I am glad tosee that your face is much better than it was."

  "Yes, it is healing fast. I am a dreadful figure still; and the Doctorsays that there will be red scars for months, and that probably my facewill be always marked."

  "The Doctor is a croaker, Miss Hannay; there is no occasion to trusthim too implicitly. I predict that there will not be any serious scarsleft."

  He took a seat beside her. There were two or three others in the court,but these were upon the other side, quite out of hearing.

  "I congratulate you, Mr. Bathurst," she
said quietly, "on yesterday. TheDoctor has, of course, told me all about it. It can make no differenceto us who knew you, but I am heartily glad for your sake. I canunderstand how great a difference it must make to you."

  "It has made all the difference in the world," he replied. "No one cantell the load it has lifted from my mind. I only wish it had taken placeearlier."

  "I know what you mean, Mr. Bathurst; the Doctor has told me about thattoo. You may wish that you had remained in the boat, but it was well forme that you did not. You would have lost your life without benefitingme. I should be now in the well of Cawnpore, or worse, at Bithoor."

  "That may be," he said gravely, "but it does not alter the fact."

  "I have no reason to know why you consider you should have stopped inthe boat, Mr. Bathurst," she went on quietly, but with a slight flushon her cheek. "I can perhaps guess by what you afterwards did for me, bythe risks you ran to save me; but I cannot go by guesses, I think I havea right to know."

  "You are making me say what I did not mean to say," he exclaimedpassionately, "at least not now; but you do more than guess, youknow--you know that I love you."

  "And what do you know?" she asked softly.

  "I know that you ought not to love me." he said. "No woman should love acoward."

  "I quite agree with you, but then I know that you are not a coward."

  "Not when I jumped over and left you alone? It was the act of a cur."

  "It was an act for which you were not really responsible. Had you beenable to think, you would not have done so. I do not take the view theDoctor does, and I agree with you that a man loving a woman should firstof all think of her and of her safety. So you thought when you couldthink, but you were no more responsible for your action than a madmanfor a murder committed when in a state of frenzy. It was an impulseyou could not control. Had you, after the impulse had passed, come downhere, believing, as you might well have believed, that it was absolutelyimpossible to rescue me from my fate, it would have been different. Butthe moment you came to yourself you deliberately took every riskand showed how brave you were when master of yourself. I am speakingplainly, perhaps more plainly than I ought to. But I should despisemyself had I not the courage to speak out now when so much is at stake,and after all you have done for me.

  "You love me?"

  "You know that I love you."

  "And I love you," the girl said; "more than that, I honor and esteemyou. I am proud of your love. I am jealous for your honor as for my own,and I hold that honor to be spotless. Even now, even with my happinessat stake, I could not speak so plainly had I not spoken so cruelly andwrongly before. I did not know you then as I know you now, but havingsaid what I thought then, I am bound to say what I think now, if only asa penance. Did I hesitate to do so, I should be less grateful than thatpoor Indian girl who was ready as she said, to give her life for thelife you had saved."

  "Had you spoken so bravely but two days since," Bathurst said, takingher hand, "I would have said. 'I love you too well, Isobel, to linkyour fate to that of a disgraced man.' but now I have it in my power toretrieve myself, to wipe out the unhappy memory of my first failure,and still more, to restore the self respect which I have lost duringthe last month. But to do so I must stay here: I must bear part in theterrible struggle there will be before this mutiny is put down, Indiaconquered, and Cawnpore revenged."

  "I will not try to prevent you," Isobel said. "I feel it would be wrongto do so. I could not honor you as I do, if for my sake you turned awaynow. Even though I knew I should never see you again, I would that youhad died so, than lived with even the shadow of dishonor on your name.I shall suffer, but there are hundreds of other women whose husbands,lovers, or sons are in the fray, and I shall not flinch more than theydo from giving my dearest to the work of avenging our murdered friendsand winning back India."

  So quietly had they been talking that no thought of how momentoustheir conversation had been had entered the minds of the ladies sittingworking but a few paces away. One, indeed, had remarked to another, "Ithought when Dr. Wade was telling us how Mr. Bathurst had rescued thatunfortunate girl with the disfigured face at Cawnpore, that there wasa romance in the case, but I don't see any signs of it. They are goodsfriends, of course, but there is nothing lover-like in their way oftalking."

  So thought Dr. Wade when he came in and saw them sitting there, and gavevent to his feeling in a grunt of dissatisfaction.

  "It is like driving two pigs to market," he muttered; "they won't go theway I want them to, out of pure contrariness."

  "It is all settled, Doctor," Bathurst said, rising. "Come, shake hands;it is to you I owe my happiness chiefly."

  "Isobel, my dear, give me a kiss," the Doctor exclaimed. "I am glad,my dear, I am glad with all my heart. And what have you settled besidesthat?"

  "We have settled that I am to go home as soon as I can go down country,and he is going up with you and the others to Cawnpore."

  "That is right," the Doctor said heartily. "I told you that was whathe would decide upon; it is right that he should do so. No man oughtto turn his face to the coast till Lucknow is relieved and Delhi iscaptured. I thank God it has all come right at last. I began to beafraid that Bathurst's wrong headedness was going to mar both yourlives."

  The news had already come down that Havelock had found that it would beabsolutely impossible with the small force at his command to fight hisway into Lucknow through the multitude of foes that surrounded it, andthat he must wait until reinforcements arrived. There was, therefore, nourgent hurry, and it was not until ten days later that a second troopof volunteer horse, composed of civilians unable to resume their duties,and officers whose regiments had mutinied, started for Cawnpore.

  Half an hour before they mounted, Isobel Hannay and Ralph Bathurst weremarried by the chaplain in the fort. This was at Bathurst's earnestwish.

  "I may not return, Isobel," he had urged: "it is of no use to blink thefact that we have desperate fighting before us, and I should go intobattle with my mind much more easy in the knowledge that, come whatmight, you were provided for. The Doctor tells me that he considers youhis adopted daughter, and that he has already drawn up a will leavinghis savings to you; but I should like your future to come from me, dear,even if I am not to share it with you. As you know, I have a fine estateat home, and I should like to think of you as its mistress."

  And Isobel of course had given way, though not without protest.

  "You don't know what I may be like yet," she said, half laughing, halfin earnest. "I may carry these red blotches to my grave."

  "They are honorable scars, dear, as honorable as any gained in battle. Ihope, for your sake, that they will get better in time, but it makesno difference to me. I know what you were, and how you sacrificed yourbeauty. I suppose if I came back short of an arm or leg you would notmake that an excuse for throwing me over?"

  "You ought to be ashamed of even thinking of such a thing, Ralph."

  "Well, dear, I don't know that I did think it, but I am only putting aparallel case to your own. No, you must consent: it is in all ways best.We will be married on the morning I start, so as just to give time forour wedding breakfast before I mount."

  "It shall be as you wish," she said softly. "You know the estate withoutyou would be nothing to me, but I should like to bear your name, andshould you never come back to me, Ralph, to mourn for you all my lifeas my husband. But I believe you will return to me. I think I am gettingsuperstitious, and believe in all sorts of things since so many strangeevents have happened. Those pictures on the smoke that came true, Rujubsending you messages at Deennugghur, and Rabda making me hear her voiceand giving me hope in prison. I do not feel so miserable at the thoughtof your going into danger as I should do, if I had not a sort ofconviction that we shall meet again. People believe in presentiments ofevil, why should they not believe in presentiments of good? At any rate,it is a comfort to me that I do feel so, and I mean to go on believingit."

  "Do so, Isobel. Of course there
will be danger, but the danger willbe nothing to that we have passed through together. The Sepoys willno doubt fight hard, but already they must have begun to doubt; theirconfidence in victory must be shaken, and they begin to fear retributionfor their crimes. The fighting will, I think, be less severe as thestruggle goes on, and at any rate the danger to us, fighting as theassailants, is as nothing to that run when we were little groupssurrounded by a country in arms.

  "The news that has come through from Lucknow is that, for some time atany rate, the garrison are confident they can hold out, while atDelhi we know that our position is becoming stronger every day; thereinforcements are beginning to arrive from England, and though thework may be slow at first, our army will grow, while their strength willdiminish, until we sweep them before us. I need not stop until theend, only till the peril is over, till Lucknow is relieved, and Delhicaptured.

  "As we agreed, I have already sent in my resignation in the service,and shall fight as a volunteer only. If we have to fight our way intoLucknow, cavalry will be useless, and I shall apply to be attached toone of the infantry regiments; having served before, there will be nodifficulty about that. I think there are sure to be plenty of vacancies.Six months will assuredly see the backbone of the rebellion altogetherbroken. No doubt it will take much longer crushing it out altogether,for they will break up into scattered bodies, and it may be a long workbefore these are all hunted down; but when the strength of the rebellionis broken, I can leave with honor."

  There were but few preparations to be made for the wedding. Greatinterest was felt in the fort in the event, for Isobel's rescue fromBithoor and Cawnpore, when all others who had fallen into the power ofthe Nana had perished, had been the one bright spot in the gloom; andthere would have been a general feeling of disappointment had not theromance had the usual termination.

  Isobel's presents were numerous and of a most useful character, for theytook the form of articles of clothing, and her trousseau was a variedand extensive one.

  The Doctor said to her the evening before the event, "You ought to havea certificate from the authorities, Isobel, saying how you came intopossession of your wardrobe, otherwise when you get back to England youwill very soon come to be looked upon as a most suspicious character."

  "How do you mean, Doctor?"

  "Well, my dear, if the washerwoman to whom you send your assortmentat the end of the voyage is an honest woman, she will probably giveinformation to the police that you must be a receiver of stolenproperty, as your garments are all marked with different names."

  "It will look suspicious, Doctor, but I must run the risk of that tillI can remark them again. I can do a good deal that way before I sail. Itis likely we shall be another fortnight at least before we can startfor Calcutta. I don't mean to take the old names out, but shall mark myinitials over them and the word 'from.' Then they will always serve asmementoes of the kindness of everyone here."

  Early on the morning of the wedding a native presented himself at thegate of the fort, and on being allowed to enter with a letter for MissHannay of which he was the bearer, handed her a parcel, which provedto contain a very handsome and valuable set of jewelry, with a slip ofpaper on which were the words, "From Rabda."

  The Doctor was in high spirits at the breakfast to which everybody satdown directly after the wedding. In the first place, his greatest wishwas gratified; and, in the second, he was about to start to take part inthe work of retribution.

  "One would think you were just starting on a pleasure party, Doctor,"Isobel said.

  "It is worth all the pleasure parties in the world, my dear. I havealways been a hunter, and this time it is human 'tigers' I am going inpursuit of--besides which," he said, in a quieter tone, "I hope I amgoing to cure as well as kill. I shall only be a soldier when I am notwanted as a doctor. A man who really loves his profession, as I do, isalways glad to exercise it, and I fear I shall have ample opportunitiesthat way; besides, dear there is nothing like being cheerful upon anoccasion of this kind. The longer we laugh, the less time there is fortears."

  And so the party did not break up until it was nearly time for thelittle troop to start. Then there was a brief passionate parting, andthe volunteer horse rode away to Cawnpore. Almost the first person theymet as they rode into the British lines was Wilson, who gave a shout ofjoy at seeing the Doctor and Bathurst.

  "My dear Bathurst!" he exclaimed. "Then you got safely down. Did yourescue Miss Hannay?"

  "I had that good fortune, Wilson."

  "I am glad. I am glad," the young fellow said, shaking his handviolently, while the tears stood in his eyes. "I know you were rightin sending me away, but I have regretted it ever since. I know I shouldhave been no good, but it seemed such a mean thing for me to go off bymyself. Well, Doctor, and so you got off too," he went on, turning fromBathurst and wringing the Doctor's hand; "I never even hoped that youescaped. I made sure that it was only we two. I have had an awful timeof it since we heard the news, on the way up, of the massacre of thewomen. I had great faith in Bathurst, and knew that if anything could bedone he would do it, but when I saw the place they had been shut up in,it did not seem really possible that he could have got anyone out ofsuch a hole. And where did you leave Miss Hannay?"

  "We have not left her at all," the Doctor said gravely; "there is nolonger a Miss Hannay. There, man, don't look so shocked. She changed hername on the morning we came away."

  "What!" Wilson exclaimed. "Is she Mrs. Bathurst? I am glad, Bathurst.Shake hands again; I felt sure that if you did rescue her that was whatwould come of it. I was almost certain by her way when I talked toher about you one day that she liked you. I was awfully spoony on hermyself, you know, but I knew it was no use, and I would rather by a lotthat she married you than anyone else I know. But come along into mytent; you know your troop and ours are going to be joined. We havelost pretty near half our fellows, either in the fights coming up or bysunstroke or fever since we came here. I got hold of some fizz in thebazaar yesterday, and I am sure you must be thirsty. This is a splendidbusiness; I don't know that I ever felt so glad of anything in my life,"and he dragged them away to his tent.

  Bathurst found, to his disappointment, that intense as was the desire topush forward to Lucknow, the general opinion was that the General wouldnot venture to risk his little force in an operation that, with themeans at his disposal, seemed well nigh impossible. Cholera had madeconsiderable ravages, and he had but fifteen hundred bayonets at hisdisposal. All that could be done pending the arrival of reinforcementswas to prepare the way for an advance, and show so bold a front that theenemy would be forced to draw a large force from Lucknow to oppose hisadvance.

  A bridge of boats was thrown across the Ganges, and the force crossedthe river and advanced to Onao, eight miles on the road to Lucknow. Herethe enemy, strongly posted, barred the way; but they were attacked,and, after hard fighting, defeated, with a loss of three hundred men andfifteen guns.

  In this fight the volunteer horse, who had been formed into a singletroop, did good service. One of their two officers was killed; and asthe party last up from Allahabad were all full of Bathurst's rescueof Miss Hannay from Cawnpore, and Wilson and the Doctor influenced theothers, he was chosen to fill the vacancy.

  There were two other fierce fights out at Busserutgunge, and thenBathurst had the satisfaction of advancing with the column againstBithoor. Here again the enemy fought sturdily, but were defeated withgreat slaughter, and the Nana's palace was destroyed.

  When, after the arrival of Outram with reinforcements, the column setout for Lucknow, the volunteers did not accompany them, as they wouldhave been useless in street fighting, and were, therefore, detailedto form part of the little force left at Cawnpore to hold the city andcheck the rebels, parties of whom were swarming round it.

  The officer in command of the troop died of cholera a few days afterHavelock's column started up, and Bathurst succeeded him. The work wasvery arduous, the men being almost constantly in their saddles,and having frequent e
ncounters with the enemy. They were again muchdisappointed at being left behind when Sir Colin Campbell advanced tothe relief of Havelock and the garrison, but did more than their shareof fighting in the desperate struggle when the mutineers of the Gwalliorcontingent attacked the force at Cawnpore during the absence of therelieving column. Here they were almost annihilated in a desperatecharge which saved the 64th from being cut to pieces at the mostcritical moment of the fight.

  Wilson came out of the struggle with the loss of his left arm, and twoor three serious wounds. He had been cut off, and surrounded, and wasfalling from his horse when Bathurst cut his way to his rescue, and,lifting him into his saddle before him, succeeded after desperatefighting in carrying him off, himself receiving several wounds, none ofwhich, however, were severe. The action had been noticed, and Bathurst'sname was sent in for the Victoria Cross. As the troop had dwindled to adozen sabers, he applied to Sir Colin Campbell, whose column had arrivedin time to save the force at Cawnpore and to defeat the enemy, to beattached to a regiment as a volunteer. The General, however, at onceoffered him a post as an extra aide de camp to himself, as his perfectknowledge of the language would render him of great use; and he gladlyaccepted the offer.

  With the column returning from Lucknow was the Doctor.

  "By the way, Bathurst," he said on the evening of his return, "I met anold acquaintance in Lucknow; you would never guess who it was--Forster."

  "You don't say so; Doctor."

  "Yes; it seems he was hotly pursued, but managed to shake the sowarsoff. At that time the garrison was not so closely besieged as itafterwards was. He knew the country well, and made his way acrossit until within sight of Lucknow. At night he rode right through therebels, swam the river, and gained the Residency. He distinguishedhimself greatly through the siege, but had been desperately wounded theday before we marched in. He was in a ward that was handed over to medirectly I got there, and I at once saw that his case was a hopelessone. The poor fellow was heartily glad to see me. Of course he knewnothing of what had taken place at Deennugghur after he had left, andwas very much cut up when he heard the fate of almost all the garrison.He listened quietly when I told how you had rescued Isobel and of yourmarriage. He was silent, and then said, 'I am glad to hear it, Doctor.I can't say how pleased I am she escaped. Bathurst has fairly won her.I never dreamt that she cared for him. Well, it seems he wasn't acoward after all. And you say he has resigned and come up as a volunteerinstead of going home with her? That is plucky, anyhow. Well, I ampleased. I should not have been so if I hadn't been like this, Doctor,but now I am out of the running for good, it makes no odds to me eitherway. If ever you see him again, you tell him I said I was glad. I expecthe will make her a deucedly better husband than I should have done. Inever liked Bathurst, but I expect it was because he was a better fellowthan most of us--that was at school, you know--and of course I did nottake to him at Deennugghur. No one could have taken to a man there whocould not stand fire. But you say he has got over that, so that is allright. Anyhow, I have no doubt he will make her happy. Tell her I amglad, Doctor. I thought at one time--but that is no odds now. I am gladyou are out of it, too.'

  "And then he rambled on about shooting Sepoys, and did not say anythingmore coherently until late that night. I was sitting by him; he had beenunconscious for some time, and he opened his eyes suddenly and said,'Tell them both I am glad,' and those were the last words he spoke."

  "He was a brave soldier, a fine fellow in many ways," Bathurst said; "ifhe had been brought up differently he would, with all his gifts, havebeen a grand fellow, but I fancy he never got any home training. Well,I am glad he didn't die as we supposed, without a friend beside him, onhis way to Lucknow, and that he fell after doing his duty to the womenand children there."

  Wilson refused to go home after the loss of his arm, and as soon as herecovered was appointed to one of the Sikh regiments, and took part inthe final conquest of Lucknow two months after the fight at Cawnpore.A fortnight after the conclusion of that terrible struggle Sir ColinCampbell announced to Bathurst that amongst the dispatches that hehad received from home that morning was a Gazette, in which his nameappeared among those to whom the Victoria Cross had been granted.

  "I congratulate you heartily, Mr. Bathurst," the old officer said: "Ihave had the pleasure of speaking in the highest terms of the braveryyou displayed in carrying my message through heavy fire a score of timesduring the late operations."

  Great as the honor of the Victoria Cross always is, to Bathurst it wasmuch more than to other men. It was his rehabilitation. He need neverfear now that his courage would be questioned, and the report that hehad before left the army because he lacked courage would be foreversilenced now that he could write V. C. after his name. The pleasureof Dr. Wade and Wilson was scarcely less than his own. The latter'sregiment had suffered very heavily in the struggle at Lucknow, and hecame out of it a captain, having escaped without a wound.

  A week later Bathurst resigned his appointment. There was still much tobe done, and months of marching and fighting before the rebellion wasquite stamped out; but there had now arrived a force ample to overcomeall opposition, and there was no longer a necessity for the service ofcivilians. As he had already left the service of the Company, he was hisown master, and therefore started at once for Calcutta..

  "I shall not be long before I follow you," the Doctor said, as theyspent their last evening together. "I shall wait and see this out, andthen retire. I should have liked to have gone home with you, but it isout of the question. Our hands are full, and likely to be so for sometime, so I must stop."

  Bathurst stopped for a day at Patna to see Rujub and his daughter. Hewas received as an expected guest, and after spending a few hours withthem he continued his journey. At Calcutta he found a letter awaitinghim from Isobel, saying that she had arrived safely in England, andshould stay with her mother until his arrival, and there he found her.

  "I expected you today," she said, after the first rapturous greetingwas over. "Six weeks ago I woke in the middle of the night, and heardRabda's voice distinctly say: 'He has been with us today: he is safe andwell; he is on his way to you.' As I knew how long you would takegoing down from Patna, I went the next day to the office and found whatsteamer you would catch, and when she would arrive. My mother and sisterboth regarded me as a little out of my mind when I said you would beback this week. They have not the slightest belief in what I told themabout Rujub, and insist that it was all a sort of hallucination broughton by my sufferings. Perhaps they will believe now."

  "Your face is wonderfully better," he said presently. "The marks seemdying out, and you look almost your old self."

  "Yes," she said; "I have been to one of the great doctors, and he sayshe thinks the scars will quite disappear in time."

  Isobel Bathurst has never again received any distinct message fromRabda, but from time to time she has the consciousness, when sittingquietly alone, that the girl is with her in thought. Every year lettersand presents are exchanged, and to the end of their lives she and herhusband will feel that their happiness is chiefly due to her and herfather--Rujub, the Juggler.

  THE END.