When the Doctor re-entered the house there was a chorus of questions:
“Has Mr. Bathurst started?”
“Why did you not bring him in here before he left? We should all have liked to have said goodby to him.”
“Yes, he has gone. I have seen him over the wall; and it was much better that he should go without any fuss. He went off just as quietly and unconcernedly as if he had been going out for an ordinary evening’s walk. Now I am going up onto the roof. I don’t say we should hear any hubbub down at the lines if he were discovered there, but we should certainly hear a shout if he came across any of the sentries round the house.”
“Has he taken any arms, Doctor?” the Major asked.
“None whatever, Major. I asked him if he would not take pistols, but he refused.”
“Well, I don’t understand that,” Captain Forster remarked. “If I had gone on such a business I would have taken a couple of revolvers. I am quite ready to take my chance of being killed fighting, but I should not like to be seized and hacked to pieces in cold blood. My theory is a man should sell his life as dearly as he can.”
“That is the animal instinct, Forster,” the Doctor said sharply; “though I don’t say that I should not feel the same myself; but I question whether Bathurst’s is not a higher type of courage.”
“Well, I don’t aspire to Bathurst’s type of courage, Doctor,” Forster said, with a short laugh.
But the Doctor did not answer. He had already turned away, and was making for the stairs.
“May I go with you, Doctor?” Isobel Hannay said, following him. “It is very hot down here.”
“Yes; come along, child; but there is no time to lose, for Bathurst must be near where they are likely to have posted their sentries by this time.”
“Everything quiet, Wilson?” he asked the young subaltern, who, with another, was on guard on the roof.
“Yes; we have heard nothing except a few distant shouts and noises out at the lines. Round here there has been nothing moving, except that we heard someone go out into the garden just now.”
“I went out with Bathurst,” the Doctor said. “He has gone in the disguise of a native to the Sepoy lines, to find out what are their intentions.”
“I heard the talk over it, Doctor. I only came up on watch a few minutes since. I thought it was most likely him when I heard the steps.”
“I hope he is beyond the sentries,” the Doctor said. “I have come up here to listen.”
“I expect he is through them before this,” Wilson said confidently. “I wish I could have gone with him; but of course it would not have been any good. It is a beautiful night—isn’t it, Miss Hannay?—and there is scarcely any dew falling.”
“Now, you go off to your post in the corner, Wilson. Your instructions are to listen for the slightest sound, and to assure us against the Sepoys creeping up to the walls. We did not come up here to distract you from your duties, or to gossip.”
“There are Richards and another posted somewhere in the garden,” Wilson said. “Still, I suppose you are right, Doctor; but if you, Miss Hannay, have come up to listen, come and sit in my corner; it is the one nearest to the lines.”
“You may as well go and sit down, Isobel,” the Doctor said; “that is, if you intend to stay up here long;” and they went across with Wilson to his post.
“Shall I put one of these sandbags for you to sit on?”
“I would rather stand, thank you;” and they stood for some time silently watching the fires in the lines.
“They are drawing pretty heavily on the wood stores,” the Doctor growled; “there is a good deal more than the regulation allowance blazing in those fires. I can make out a lot of figures moving about round them; no doubt numbers of the peasants have come in.”
“Do you think Mr. Bathurst has got beyond the line of sentries?” Isobel said, after standing perfectly quiet for some time.
“Oh, yes, a long way; probably he was through by the time we came up here. They are not likely to post them more than fifty or sixty yards from the wall; and, indeed, it is, as Bathurst pointed out to me, probable that they are only thick near the gate. All they want to do is to prevent us slipping away. I should think that Bathurst must be out near the lines by this time.”
Isobel moved a few paces away from the others, and again stood listening.
“I suppose you do not think that there is any chance of an attack tonight, Doctor?” Wilson asked, in low tones.
“Not in the least; the natives are not fond of night work. I expect they are dividing the spoil and quarreling over it; anyhow, they have had enough of it for today. They may intend to march away in the morning, or they may have sent to Cawnpore to ask for orders, or they may have heard from some of the Zemindars that they are coming in to join them—that is what Bathurst has gone out to learn; but anyhow I do not think they will attack us again with their present force.”
“I wish there were a few more of us,” Wilson said, “so that we could venture on a sortie.”
“So do I, lad; but it is no use thinking about it as it is. We have to wait; our fate is not in our own hands.”
“And you think matters look bad, Doctor?”
“I think they could hardly look worse. Unless the mutineers take it into their heads to march away, there is, humanly speaking, but one chance for us, and that is that Lawrence may thrash the Sepoys so completely at Lucknow that he may be able to send out a force to bring us in. The chances of that are next to nothing; for in addition to a very large Sepoy force he has the population of Lucknow—one of the most turbulent in India—on his hands. Ah, what is that?”
Two musket shots in quick succession from the Sepoy lines broke the silence of the evening, and a startled exclamation burst from the girl standing near them.
The Doctor went over to her.
“Do you think—do you think,” she said in a low, strained voice, “that it was Bathurst?”
“Not at all. If they detected him, and I really do not see that there is a chance of their doing so, disguised as he was, they would have seized him and probably killed him, but there would be no firing. He has gone unarmed, you know, and would offer no resistance. Those shots you heard were doubtless the result of some drunken quarrel over the loot.”
“Do you really think so, Doctor?”
“I feel quite sure of it. If it had been Forster who had gone out, and he had been detected, it would have been natural enough that we should hear the sound of something like a battle. In the first place, he would have defended himself desperately, and, in the next, he might have made his way through them and escaped; but, as I said, with Bathurst there would be no occasion for their firing.”
“Why didn’t he come in to say goodby before he went? that is what I wanted to ask you, Doctor, and why I came up here. I wanted to have spoken to him, if only for a moment, before he started. I tried to catch his eye as he went out of the room with you, but he did not even look at me. It will be so hard if he never comes back, to know that he went away without my having spoken to him again. I did try this morning to tell him that I was sorry for what I said, but he would not listen to me.”
“You will have an opportunity of telling him when he comes back, if you want to, or of showing him so by your manner, which would be, perhaps, less painful to both of you.”
“I don’t care about pain to myself,” the girl said. “I have been unjust, and deserve it.”
“I don’t think he considers you unjust. I did, and told you so. He feels what he considers the disgrace so much that it seems to him perfectly natural he should be despised.”
“Yes, but I want him to see that he is not despised,” she said quickly. “You don’t understand, Doctor.”
“I do understand perfectly, my dear; at least, I think—I think I do; I see that you want to put yourself straight with him, which is very right and proper, especially placed as we all are; but I would not do or say anything hastily. You have spoken hastily once, you see, and made a mess of it. I should be careful how I did it again, unless, of course,” and he stopped.
“Unless what, Doctor?” Isobel asked shyly, after a long pause. But there was no reply; and looking round she saw that her companion had moved quietly away and had joined Wilson at his post. She stood for a few minutes in the same attitude, and then moved quietly across the staircase in the center of the terrace, and went down to the party below. A short time later the Doctor followed her, and, taking his rifle, went out into the garden with Captain Doolan, who assisted him in climbing the tree, and handed his gun up to him. The Doctor made his way out on the branch to the spot where it extended beyond the wall, and there sat, straining his eyes into the darkness. Half an hour passed, and then he heard a light footfall on the sandy soil.
“Is that you, Bathurst?” he whispered.
“All right, Doctor;” and a minute later Bathurst sat on the branch beside him.
“Well, what’s your news?”
“Very bad, Doctor; they expect the Rajah Por Sing, who, it seems, is the leader of the party in this district, and several other Zemindars, to be here with guns tomorrow or next day. The news from Cawnpore was true.. The native troops mutinied and marched away, but were joined by Nana Sahib and his force, and he persuaded them to return and attack the whites in their intrenchments at Cawnpore, as they would not be well received at Delhi unless they had properly accomplished their share of the work of rooting out the Feringhees.”