CHAPTER XIII
Tynan makes his Choice
The door of Tynan's prison opened and the captive's heart beat wildly.Was it life or death? Only Ghulam Beg bringing his chupatties and water.
"Where is Pir Baksh?" he enquired. "I want to see him."
"The Subadar Sahib has gone out," replied the sepoy, leaving the roombefore any other questions could be asked. Tynan turned to his humblefare and regarded it with disgust. He felt wronged that he should be fedso meanly by the man he was to reward so handsomely. It was all therewas, however, and hard bread was better than nothing, so he devoured itto the last crumb.
What was that? The loud booming of cannon roused him to his feet, anEnglishman again, and he made desperate attempts to force open theshutters. The sharper crack and rattle of musketry--volley uponvolley--followed the booming of the guns; then the cannon spoke again,and loud cries of alarm, exhortation, and triumph filled the air.
Surely it must be a rescue! He stamped up and down the narrow chamberlike a caged wild beast, fuming and raging. Still no one came; heshrieked and stormed in vain.
His suspense was not for long. The door was flung open, and Pir Baksh,followed by his brother, Muhammad Baksh, Ghulam Beg, and another sepoy,rushed into the room. Tynan assumed an attitude of defence.
"Fool!" cried the subadar, anger and impatience in his voice. "I amcome to save you. Quick! put on these clothes."
He flung down the garments of a sepoy, and Tynan hesitated. Why was PirBaksh so excited? There was fear also in his eyes.
"What mean the noise of cannon, Pir Baksh?" he demanded.
"Quick, on with the uniform or we shall all be slain!" the Moslemangrily replied. "The rebels are mad, and they suspect that I have saveda Feringhi, and will soon be here, though I know not who has told them.The noise thou didst hear was the cannon with which they have utterlydestroyed the house of the Commissioner Sahib, and they have killedevery man, woman, and child therein. Hasten! Hasten! In the name of theProphet, hasten or thou art lost, and I too for being so foolish as tohelp thee!"
Another bitter disappointment for the lad. Hurriedly doffing the uniformof his rank and donning the disguising raiment, he followed his fourwarders outside, and away from the town--and from safety--the wild yellsbecoming fainter and fainter.
Presently the subadar turned into a road that led northeastwards, andslackened the pace to a walk, neither he nor his prisoner being in fitcondition to run far. They walked on and on at a quick swinging stride,every step causing intense pain. Though Tynan begged them to restawhile, Pir Baksh refused. His limbs and body had been rubbed andanointed; his bruises were nearly healed, and the rate of marching didnot affect his broken arm. The lad's anguish was pitiful to see.
"Have we not gone far enough?" whispered one of the sepoys at last. "Letus halt here and put the cub to death. There is no one to interrupt."
The subadar was not so sure. The fact that he, Pir Baksh, had contrivedto get hold of one of the Feringhi officers was not such a secret as hehad led Tynan to believe, and he knew that some of his neighbours, inorder to curry favour with the winning side, would probably impart thenews to the Commissioner Sahib. Being an arrant coward he feared lest arescue party should be following on his trail, and he knew what trackersthe Gurkhas were. Until his anxiety on this head should be lifted, hedid not mean to rid himself of his hostage.
He pressed the party forward until close upon sunset, when Tynan wasabsolutely incapable of another step. The heat had told upon his wastedstrength, and he was on the point of fainting. Nothing save the hope ofescape could have kept him up so long. They halted in a small clearingamong the trees.
"For heaven's sake, subadar, let me have something to eat!"
"I think the place will suit our purpose," Pir Baksh observed, calmlyignoring the boy's request.
The words and tone struck Tynan as a whip-lash across the face. Helooked round for a way of escape, and his arms were seized from behind.
Unnecessary precaution! He was much too weak to resist, and Ghulam Begthrew him roughly to the ground. Pir Baksh contemptuously kicked hisfallen enemy.
"Fool!" he snarled. "Didst thou think to escape my vengeance so easily?"
The wretched boy saw the look of hatred in the brute's eyes, and feltthat he was doomed. There was no hope of mercy there. He knew at lastthat the blackguard's object had been to increase his misery by raisinghis hopes, and the vile scheme had succeeded.
"Remember your oath," the ensign gasped. "Remember the reward, PirBaksh."
"And dost thou think," the traitor retorted with an air of virtue thatsat badly upon his vicious face, "dog of an unbeliever, that we of theFaith would sell our souls for money?"
Again he kicked the prostrate Tynan.
"In what manner shall we slay him?" asked Muhammad Baksh.
"Bury him alive," suggested Ghulam Beg.
"With our bayonets?" sneered the third sepoy. "Let us talk sense."
"Tie him to yonder tree, then," said Tynan's late attendant, "and make atarget of him. Fire first at hands and feet and legs and arms."
"Aye, and make a noise that may be heard for miles?" the leader angrilyretorted.
Pir Baksh had his reasons for wishing to put his victim away morequietly. In a state of abject terror Tynan listened to the horriblesuggestions. The nightmare of suspense and despair experienced in hisprison chamber was as nothing to this.
"I have a better plan," said the subadar quietly. "Ye will tie him handand foot to yonder tree, gag his mouth, and leave him there. There willbe little left of him in the morning except bare bones, and clever asthe Feringhis are, they will find no mark of knife or bullet should theychance to come across what is left. Ye have the cords. Tie him up."
Tynan shouted for help until a cloth was bound over his mouth. Then thefrenzy of despair lent him strength, but the struggle was short, and hewas quickly pushed and pulled towards the tree indicated by Pir Baksh.
Something moved in the undergrowth behind, and a squat little manstepped into the light. A musket was in his hand, and a grin upon hishairless face. In an unknown tongue he addressed a question to the menwho held the struggling Tynan, and being regarded with a stare ofmingled amazement and terror, he peered into the face of the captive.Then the grin died out of his face, for he saw the white skin of anEnglishman and understood.
Again he jabbered in the strange language, then quick as thought he drewfrom its scabbard a curved knife, whose keen broad blade flashed thricelike a heliograph as it caught the slanting rays of the disappearingsun. The sepoys had let go their hold of Tynan, and had raised theirmuskets, but before the triggers could be pulled the vicious kukri bladehad descended twice, and the traitors sank on the sward, cut through theshoulder.
Crack went the musket of Muhammad Baksh, and a bullet skimmed over thecap of the ugly little stranger. Before the echo had died away ananswering report rang out, and as Muhammad Baksh paid the penalty of histreachery, a second Gurkha stepped from behind a tree-trunk withinfifteen paces of Pir Baksh. The subadar turned and ran.
"Shoot, brother!" sang out the Gurkha, whose musket was empty.
The first-comer's weapon was already covering the runagate. He pulledthe trigger, and when the smoke had rolled away, there lay thearch-traitor writhing upon the ground, alternately calling down cursesupon the little mountain demons who had frustrated him, and calling uponthe Englishman for mercy. Evidently he was not very badly wounded, or hecould not have made so much noise.
The Gurkhas trotted towards him with bared knives, and though theMohammedan still held his loaded musket the little hillmen neverhesitated. Pir Baksh was consistent in his cowardice. Dropping theweapon he held up his hands in token of surrender, and called upon TynanSahib to save him from the fiends.
Harry Tynan had barely realized what had happened, and what a verynarrow squeak he had had.
"Do not kill him!" he shouted in Urdu, as he limped towards the woundedsavage. He wanted to see what Pir Baksh would have to say for
himselfbefore he handed him over to be hanged or blown away. The fact must beadmitted that Tynan meant to gloat over the failure of the subadar'svile plans.
The Gurkhas did not understand the words, but they divined his meaning.
"Sahib," implored the subadar, "save me from these demons. I spared yourlife, so do not leave me to be murdered."
"You spared my life!" Tynan indignantly repeated. "You mean you broughtme here to torture me."
"Sahib, you wrong me. I did but pretend. I had no influence over thosethree curs who lie dead--praised be Allah!--and they insisted on slayingyou. They would have murdered me had I not feigned to fall in with theirplans, and we must all safeguard our own lives first. But I meant tosave you, and that is why I rejected their proposals as to the manner ofdeath. I would have tied you to the tree, and, after giving them theslip in the darkness, would have returned to set you free."
"But you kicked me and spat upon me."
"That was to remove their suspicions. The more I seemed to hate you themore easy would it be to help you."
Not being a particularly intelligent youth, Tynan began to think theremight be something in what the subadar said.
"Well, thou art my prisoner now, and for the present I will save thylife. Where is thy wound?"
"Indeed, sahib, I fear they have slain me."
Pir Baksh placed his hand to his leg and indicated the nature of thewound. One of the Gurkhas bent down, sliced off some of the cloth withhis kukri, and burst out laughing.
"The _kafar_ (coward)!" he cried to his companions.
The bullet had grazed the rebel's thigh, tearing off a little strip ofskin. Feeling the sharp sting, Pir Baksh had clapped his hand to thespot and drawn it away covered with blood. Concluding that he was donefor, he had tumbled over and howled.
"Get up!" said Tynan brusquely. "You're not hurt."
Turning to the Gurkhas he motioned them to lead the way. Picking up thefour muskets, the party set forth, the prisoner in the midst renderedvery unhappy by the knowledge that a loaded musket was within a fewinches of his backbone, and he dreaded carelessness on the part of theGurkha. The precaution was unnecessary, for the roaring lion of half anhour ago was now as harmless as a dove.
An hour's walk brought them within sight of camp fires, and before longthey had passed the sentries, and Tynan was in the commandant's tent. Hewas a small wiry man of about twenty-five, tough as whip-cord.
"Hullo!" he cried, holding a lantern above his head so that the lightfell full upon Tynan's face. "Who are you?"
"Ensign Tynan of the 193rd. I've just been rescued from a gang ofcut-throats by these two men of yours. They tackled four and killedthree."
"Take the prisoner to the guard-tent."
The Gurkha saluted and retired, and the officer continued: "Now, Mr.Tynan, you'll be hungry, so just fall to. If you'd come half an hour agothere would have been a better spread."
"I'm very hungry, thanks. What force is yours?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon! I'm Captain Hornby of the Kumaon GurkhaBattalion. I've a hundred men here, and we are _en route_ for Sadalpur.We are expecting orders from John Lawrence--for Delhi, I hope. I won'tlisten to your tale until you've finished."
The meal over, the fugitive narrated his adventures since the outbreakof the mutiny until the moment of his rescue. When he came to theaccount of the explosion he hesitated, and finally said: "We decided toblow it up rather than allow it to fall into the hands of the rebels."
Ted Russell had also used the word "we", but from what differentmotives!
"You were senior officer?" questioned the captain.
"Yes."
"Good!" Hornby held out his hand. "I'm proud to shake hands with you. Iheard a rumour yesterday that the Aurungpore arsenal had been blown up."
Harry Tynan felt ready to sink into the ground with shame. His hand felllimp from the grasp, and he hastily resumed his story.
"I can't make up my mind about Pir Baksh," he said. "He may have beenonly pretending to fall in with the views of the majority, but if so, hewas a very good actor."
"You've had a rough time, youngster, so just lie down and sleep as wellas you can. There's my mattress, and I'll get another. Good-night! I'mgoing the rounds."
The camp was astir soon after sunrise. Hornby asked how the ensign hadslept, and explained that the two rescuers had informed him how they hadtracked the party and followed them for nearly a mile, but had not beenable to fathom their proceedings until they had seen the white skin.Pir Baksh was conducted before Captain Hornby to be examined with regardto his share in the mutiny. Before any questions could be asked, thetraitor drew forth the documents signed by Tynan, and handed them to theGurkha officer.
"There, sahib, they will prove I am a true man. Tynan Sahib has reason,I admit, to doubt me, and I should have whispered my intentions to himas we ran away, had not my comrades kept close at hand all the time,being suspicious."
Captain Hornby read the papers, and regarded the ensign with a puzzledexpression.
"This is your signature?" he asked; and Tynan, who was nervously toyingwith his sword-hilt, stammered an admission of the fact.
"H'm! It certainly seems that the fellow's story is true, though I don'tlike his looks. However, if he tried to save your lives and to restrainhis comrades, it looks as if he really meant to be loyal, does it not?"
Tynan agreed that it did, and as he recollected how the treacheroussubadar, now bowing and salaaming with an ingratiating smile, had shotdown his colonel and helped to murder Lowthian, he cursed the lies hehad signed. Yet he had not the moral courage to disavow them, and so layhimself open to the charge of cowardice.
"And of course," went on the captain, "of course he treated you badly inthe house in order to allay the suspicions of his men, who mightotherwise have murdered you. It was rough on you, but probably for thebest."
Tynan acquiesced with a nod, and felt very uncomfortable. Hornby readfor a second time the note added by Pir Baksh, and said:
"I see why you hesitated when you were speaking of the explosion, and Irespect your modesty. So it was your plan to blow up the magazine, andno wonder he admired you for it. The other ensign was killed, Isuppose?"
"Yes; I think I am the only one saved."
"Poor beggar! Well, you must stop with us until I can hand you and theprisoner to Colonel Bratherton at Jehanabad. These papers shouldcertainly save him from death, and I should say that he deserves areward."
Tynan looked utterly miserable, and there is no reason to doubt that hewas. How he wished he had never signed that fatal paper! How he wishedhe had had the pluck to tell the whole story to Hornby last night,admitting that he was half-mad with pain and fear when he signed thestatement! But no; he had lied to Hornby then, and had backed up the liein the morning through cowardice, and the wretched boy now resolved thatthe easier course would be to stick to the lie. No one could contradicthim now, except the subadar. As the thought occurred to him that PirBaksh knew the truth, and that unless he, Tynan, was prepared to stateon oath at the trial that was bound to take place, that the subadar hadsaved his life and attempted to save them all--unless he did that, theprisoner could and would ruin him, he groaned to himself and kickedviciously at the nearest object. One lie had led to another and yetanother, and he had made a net for himself, from whose entanglement hesaw no way of escape.
Yet, bad as the prospect seemed to him, he little guessed the real stateof affairs.
And Pir Baksh understood as well as he. As this hopeful gentleman hadbeen led back to the guard-tent he had winked slyly at the ensign,clearly intimating that they would stand or fall together. It was asickening thought. Having had time to think it over, Tynan felt surethat Pir Baksh had meant to murder him, and he bitterly regretted havingmoved a finger to save him from the Gurkhas. He had not even theconsolation of thinking that he had shown mercy to an enemy, for he hadonly saved him then in order to have him hanged.
Ten minutes later camp was struck, and they moved off towardsJehanabad
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The Disputed V.C.: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny Page 14
