The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER XII

  The Treachery of the Guides

  The shadows were slowly lengthening, and the whistling of the kites thatcircled overhead, waiting until the groups of sepoys should disperse,was being supplemented by the querulous howls of the equally impatientjackals. Yet no fresh attack had been made upon the English post, thoughmore than an hour had passed since the Guides had joined forces with themutineers. That they had not been idle, however, was testified by thestack of round-shot and grape rescued from the fort and piled ready tohand behind each cannon.

  A guard had been mounted over the guns and ammunition to check anydesperate sortie that might be made by the besieged, and the towngradually became less riotous. This restoration of order onlyintensified the despair of the Europeans, who drew the conclusion thatthe rebels were now being controlled by men more able--and thereforemore dangerous--than their late leaders. The more capable their enemies,the more perilous the situation of the garrison.

  That is, if anything more perilous could be imagined.

  Just after sunset, and before darkness had set in, a Hindu sepoy wasobserved creeping stealthily towards the house, apparently anxious toattract the attention of the inmates, and equally bent on avoidingobservation from outside. As the man drew near, Ambar Singh and Ted bothrecognized him as Dwarika Rai, one of their comrades in the arsenal. Hewas quickly smuggled inside, and told the story of his escape fromdeath and concealment up to the present, when duty had urged him at allrisks to inform his comrades and the Englishmen of the changedsituation.

  He explained that the detachment of the Guides had mutinied as soon asthey heard of the arrival of the 138th; they had murdered the only whiteofficer with them, and had appointed Ressaidar Bahram Khan ascommandant. The announcement was not unexpected, yet up to this momentTed had hoped against hope that Jim had escaped.

  "Art thou certain, Dwarika Rai, that they have slain my brother?" heasked after a painful pause.

  "Quite, sahib; they make boast of it. And look, their leader is wearinghis uniform."

  Ethel Woodburn had entered the room unobserved, and, standing behindthem, had overheard. She grasped a chair to steady herself, and shookher head as Ted besought her to retire to the ladies' room. There was along silence.

  "Bahram Khan?" enquired the major presently, hardly knowing what to say."Is that he, then, in the English officer's uniform and wearing hismedals?" pointing to a muscular man who could be made out in thedistance apparently ordering the sepoys about.

  "That is the hound, sahib," replied Dwarika Rai. "He has sworn toexterminate you all before noon to-morrow. He has taken command of allthe treacherous curs."

  Ethel, half-stunned by the terrible tidings, was now seated, and Tedleaned against the girl's chair, gently stroking her hand,--dimlyrecognizing that her sorrow was even greater than his own. The shock ofCaptain Russell's murder was too sudden for her to realize fully, andthe rest of the news seemed dwarfed to mere insignificance. The poorgirl attempted to pull herself together by thinking how greatly herhelpless father stood in need of her.

  "Bahram Khan!" said Ted bitterly. "Why, he is the cur who was present atthe steeple-chase,--a robber and outlaw! However could such a crew havebeen trusted?"

  "It was Sir Henry Lawrence's doing," said Leigh. "It's rare for him tomake a mistake, but here is the result of his great 'Guides' scheme.Evidently they don't mean to make the grand assault until to-morrow."

  "I wish they would," said Ted with feeling; "and end it, to-night."

  To give the boy credit, he was thinking more of the hours of bittergrief Ethel Woodburn was doomed to endure than of himself.

  It may be readily surmised that very few of the garrison contrived tosleep that night. Soon after sunrise all--women, civilians, blacksoldiers, and white officers--were gathered together to watch themutineers assemble for the final assault. Of its issue there could be nodoubt. As they stood there awaiting their fate Ethel Woodburn could notremain insensible, even at so trying a moment, to the beauty of theearly Indian morning. The slanting rays of the Eastern sun were gildingthe mosques and minarets of the town and lighting up with lurid glow thereddish buildings behind the fort, and the thought of Nature's beautyadded to her sorrow. But the greater number of those doomed people hadweightier matters to occupy their thoughts.

  In and around the courtyard of the fort itself all was bustle andconfusion; some could be both seen and heard giving commands, and othersobeying the same, though the vast majority of the assembled hundredsappeared to display a total lack of discipline. Inside thecommissioner's house the feeling of helplessness and suspense washorrible. The wisdom of a sortie, a mad rush on the guns,--to diefighting rather than cooped up and made a target of,--was debated, andnot a man there but would have preferred the chance of striking back.There were women, however, to be considered, and to leave them was outof the question.

  "Whilst there's life there's hope," declared the Commissioner, with anattempt at cheerfulness. "The house is not destroyed yet."

  He barely succeeded, however, in convincing even himself that there wasthe faintest glimmer of hope. No British troops were within three days'journey. The handful of unfortunates bade good-bye to one another, shookhands all round, and prepared to meet their death with a smile upontheir faces, without flinching or showing the least sign of weaknessbefore the eyes of their gallant and devoted Rajputs. Nor were the womenbehind the men in respect of courage.

  Major Munro, after consulting his officers, had advised the faithfulsepoys to save their lives as best they could, either by cutting theirway through at night, or by pretending to desert and to fall in with theviews of their rebel comrades.

  To give them this chance was only fair, thought the major; the Rajputs,having done their duty, deserved consideration, and though theEnglishmen could not leave the wounded and the women, yet thedark-faces, now that resistance was hopeless, should be allowed to savetheir lives. To Munro's delight, however, the gallant fellows announceda firm resolve to stand by their duty to the last. They took theirplaces shoulder to shoulder with the pale-faces, grimly waiting andwatching now that the last glimmer of hope had died out.

  For in the great square of the fort more than two thousand men wereunder arms; and in another moment the nine-pounders were charged withgrape, under the supervision of Bahram Khan and a score of picked Sikhsand Pathans of the Guide Corps--men who had served in the old KhalsaArtillery and who thoroughly understood their work.

  Behind the guns and flanking them the remaining hundred men of theGuides, conspicuous by their powerful and soldierly bearing, maintainedsome appearance of discipline, whereas the majority of the sepoys and ofarmed fanatics and budmashes were acting as seemed best in their owneyes.

  Ressaidar Bahram Khan, however, insisted with many threats and muchstrong language on some kind of order being maintained. He placed the193rd Sepoys in one position, the poorbeahs[7] of the 138th in another,and the Sikhs of the latter corps to the right front of the guns.

  [7] A name given to the Oudh sepoys.

  "When the guns have battered down the walls," thundered the rebelcommandant, "then must ye take the house by storm. The Feringhi dogsprevail against us because they trust to the bayonet, instead of stayingto fire as ye do, for the bayonet is more certain than the bullet. Wemust learn from them and attack as they would, for our aim must be todestroy utterly the hated tyrants; not one must escape our vengeance."

  The mob applauded, shouting "Din! din! Death to the Feringhis!" And theressaidar went on:

  "Take, then, the charges from your muskets, lest ye be tempted to stopand fire, for if ye do that doubtless many of the dogs may escape ourwrath. Trust to the bayonet! Kill the infidels with the steel! Now,unload!"

  The charges were withdrawn.

  "That dacoit fellow has some idea of discipline; he seems to know whathe's about,--though he's placing some of his men in queer positions, tobe sure!" commented Major Munro stoutly, bent on showing an undauntedfront to the end.

  "Oh fo
r a good, wholesome, red-coated regiment," sighed LieutenantLeigh, "to wipe these fiends off the earth! Watch that treacherous,murdering Pathan! What's he up to now?"

  "Trusting to the bayonet!" exclaimed Munro in astonishment. "That's notlike an Asiatic, but he's right."

  They heard but could not distinguish Bahram Khan's commands, and saw thesepoys empty their muskets and begin to fix bayonets. Their hearts werebeating wildly, and small shame to them, for they were helpless andcould not strike back--as helpless as condemned criminals bound andgagged. Would the word never be given to fire? What was the matter now?

  Waiting in silent agony for the fatal word, they perceived the Pathancommandant turn hastily to his gunners, who stood port-fire in hand.

  Quick as thought, before rebels or onlookers could realize what wastaking place, the muzzles of the guns were turned slightly to the rightand lowered, and ere the assemblage had time to wonder, a shower ofgrape was belched forth into the clustered ranks of the faithless Sikhsof the 138th. At the very same instant, before sepoys or besieged wereable to take in what had happened, the hundred men of the Guides--or asmany of them as were not helping their gunner comrades--brought theirrifles (for theirs were still loaded) to the shoulder, and blazed awayinto the helpless mass of brown humanity. The rebels fell in scores,mown down by the heavy discharge. One or two of the native officersattempted to rally them, but the cannon, well and promptly served by theGuides, cut lanes through the mob; and the well-aimed, disciplinedvolley-firing of the Pathans and Gurkhas augmented the confusion.

  For some seconds open-mouthed wonder kept all our friends silent. Thewhole world seemed topsy-turvy.

  Then one man grasped the situation.

  "Oh, splendid!... Well played, Guides, well played!" shouted Leigh; andthe garrison screamed and danced in a delirium of enthusiasm as theirsenses came back to them, and they understood.

  "What is it? What does it mean?" demanded Ethel breathlessly and thesick from the hospital-room echoed the cry.

  "It's the Guides!" was shouted back. "The Guides have been shammingmutiny. They've got possession of the guns, and have turned them on thetraitors!"

  Thrice did the mutineers attempt a rally, but the Sikhs--the staunchestof the rebels--had been almost blown away by the discharge of grape, andthe poorbeahs dared not face that terrible fire--those spurts of flamethat blazed forth, section by section, without hurry and withoutconfusion, from the steady, levelled rifles.

  In the Commissioner's house the Pathan messenger howled and shrieked inhis excitement, then, snatching up rifle and sword, he darted from thesheltering walls and cut his way through the terrified rebels to theside of his comrades.

  "Look!" cried Lieutenant Leigh. "Bahram Khan has given aver thecommand--to a private soldier, too!"

  He pointed towards a dark-visaged man, of middle height and sturdybuild, in the uniform of a sepoy of the Guide Corps, who was nowdirecting the sectional volley-firing. At the same moment the mutineersbroke away in all directions--two thousand men cowed by six score!

  "Why, that's Jim!--that's my brother!" screamed our ensign joyfully.Ethel gave one look, recognized the long scar that showed on the stainedface, and sank down, and to Ted's bewilderment burst into tears.

  "Well, that's a rummy go!" he murmured under his breath. "What on earthshould she blub for now that she knows he's safe?"

  As the flying, panic-stricken mutineers approached the beleagueredhouse, they received a fresh and hardly less deadly fusillade from thejubilant garrison. They scattered in all directions, staggering inblind terror. Through the narrow streets ran and stumbled the defeatedsepoys, and after them rushed fifty of the terrible men in drab, theactive little Gurkhas being ever to the front. So thorough was the panicevoked by the surprise, that here and there a dozen or even a score ofthe rebels might be seen running with terrified eyes and panting breathfrom a single fierce Afridi or Yusufzai of the hills, or still fiercerGurkha from the Himalayan snows; and Ted acknowledged his error ofjudgment as he saw one of these little Nepalese Highlanders chargesingle-handed a group of ten or a dozen Wahabi fanatics who wereattempting a rally. Cutting down four in rapid succession with hiskukri, heeding the long knives no more than cardboard, the fearlesslittle fellow scattered the remainder like sheep, and chased them untiltheir long legs carried them far out of his reach.

  Up flew the Union Jack to the top of the fort flagstaff, and CaptainRussell, recalling his pursuing men, posted guards around the place. Theloyal Rajputs, rejoicing now that they had not accepted Major Munro'spermission to desert, had not dared join in the fray except by theirfire from windows and roof, for had they shown themselves outside theywould undoubtedly have been slain by the rescuers.

  But now the little garrison marched out in safety, carrying the woundedin their midst, for not a rebel was to be seen. Never had surprise beenmore complete! At the same moment Captain Russell issued forth at thehead of half his men to escort the survivors inside the wing of the fortthat had not been demolished.

  There was no time for more than a hasty grip of the hand and a lookexchanged between two pairs of eyes, telling more eloquently than anyspeech of the lips its tale of love, anxiety, and deep, grateful joy.Ethel had thought her lover dead; Jim had hardly dared to hope that bothsweetheart and brother had survived the massacre. We can imagine theunspoken joy. Leaving Leigh and Ted with a strong guard within the fort,Munro, Captain Russell, and Paterson sallied forth at the head of onehundred and fifty Guides and no less eager Rajputs, and chased thepanic-filled pandies from street to street to prevent them fromreassembling. Long before mid-day the rebels had streamed out of thetown in all directions, a wholesome fear planted deep within theirbreasts.

  One room had been apportioned to the ladies, and others to officers andsepoys, but all the Europeans came together to cheer their rescuers.Colonel Woodburn was now well enough to greet his future son-in-law,whose exciting story all gathered round to hear. Jim told it simply.

  "Well, for a gang of double-dyed traitors commend me to the Guides andtheir English and native officers!" exclaimed Munro, his eyes twinklingwith delight at the thought of the trick.

  "All Bahram Khan's idea," laughed Jim. "We'd sent scouts ahead, andyesterday we heard of the arrival of the 138th and learned that theypossessed artillery. I felt that I'd no right to risk my handful againstsuch overwhelming odds, so I consulted the ressaidar[8]. That gentlemenalso thought the task hopeless at first, then he suddenly burst out intoa demoniacal laugh.

  [8] A native officer of cavalry.

  "'Why, Captain Sahib,' said he,'why shouldn't we mutiny? We could killyou and make friends with the poorbeahs. Then I'd take command of therebels--the curs will only be too glad to have me--and I could getpossession of the guns and post the men as I choose. With our men at theguns and behind the guns, we can sweep the poorbeahs from off theearth!'

  "It was a glorious idea; we explained it to the men, who took it in likeso many school-boys. Those little Gurkha fiends turned somersault asthey thought of the pandies[9] being taken in; and they laughed till thetears rolled down their smooth cheeks. I stained my face and put on oneof the men's uniforms, whilst Bahram Khan squeezed himself into mine,and everything worked beautifully."

  [9] A nickname for rebels. Mongul Pandy was the name of the first noted mutineer.

  "And did no one suspect?" asked the major.

  "Not a soul! You see, there never were such rabid haters of the Britishas we have been for the past twenty-four hours! We were quite willing toeat you all, either cooked or raw; no half-measures with the Guides!"

  "You disgustin' treacherous brutes!" chirped our ensign, who was in astate of wild and gleeful excitement.

  Bahram Khan stood by, grinning, well pleased with his handiwork, as wereall these stalwart soldiers of the Guide Corps. Jim Russell's storyended, the deputy-commissioner passed his arm through Munro's, and,announcing that he wished to consult him with respect to granting areward to the loyal Rajputs, he led the major from the room. The remarkwa
s accompanied by a significant look, and, taking the hint, theremaining officers made some excuse to leave.

  The ladies saw and understood, and in a few moments Jim and Ethel wereleft alone. They were grateful, yet for some moments not a word wasuttered by either. The precious time was not exactly wasted, though.

  "My poor girl, what you must have suffered!" Jim murmured as he held herhands within his own and fondled them.

  "Are you really here, Jim, or am I dreaming? It seems too good to betrue."

  "I think I really am here," was the reply, and Jim set to work toconvince her.

  "You have heard how poor Markham was killed, and Tynan and Lewis andArden?"

  Jim nodded and tightened his grip of the hands until she winced.

  "What a brute I am!" he penitently exclaimed, covering the little handswith kisses.

  "I--I liked it, Jim.---- But you know you oughtn't to reward yourselffor being a brute."

  There was another interval of silence.

  "And so the young 'un has behaved like a brick!" said Jim at length."I'm proud of the kid."

  "I should just think he has. I really believe I shall have to marry you,Captain Russell, if only to have Ted for a brother. I think he likes menow."

  "I'll punch the young 'un's head if he doesn't," declared the brutalJim. "It's very decent of the others to give us this good time, littlewoman."

  "It is, indeed. Oh, Jim, are you sure we're not dreaming? Can you stayhere with your men?"

  The captain shook his head sadly.

  "I don't know what to do until I have consulted Munro and Fletcher andyour father. We must follow the rest of the corps as quickly aspossible, and I think the best plan will be for you all to come with us,if we can obtain horses and ekkas for the wounded and the ladies, untilwe can drop you at the first safe place."

  "Cannot Sir Arthur, as head of the district, countermand your orders tojoin the Guide Corps at once? If he says that you are needed here, Ishould think he has authority to detain you. Besides, you and your menare now under father, or rather under Major Munro, whilst you remainhere, and you will have to do as they order."

  Jim laughed.

  "I wish it were so; but it happens to be John Lawrence himself who hassent us to Delhi, and he said he wanted us to get there quickly. Andwhen Jan Larens says 'do this' you've got to do it, and do it smartly.The major is a brave man, and so is Fletcher, but I shall be very muchsurprised if either of them dare trifle with Jan."

  Major Munro had assembled the loyal Rajputs and thanked them in astraight soldierly speech that touched their faithful hearts and broughta glow of pride to their eyes. The Commissioner, moreover, deemed itwell to let congratulations take a more substantial form. He thereforedistributed the sum of five thousand rupees amongst the seventysurvivors--a welcome reward for their loyalty and courage.

  On the following morning Jim's anxiety and hesitation were removed, as adetachment of the 4th Sikhs--a glorious, loyal regiment--marched in andmaintained order in the town.

  Miss Woodburn's safety being thus assured, Captain Russell at once setout to rejoin his comrades in their seven hundred and fifty miles' marchto the Mogul capital, and, to the delight of Ted and Paterson, thecolonel allowed the boys to accompany the gallant corps.

  We shall hear later on of that memorable march of the Corps of Guides toDelhi--the finest march in Indian history, if not indeed in the recordsof any army--as well as of their doings during the famous siege.