CHAPTER IX

Defence of the Commissioner's House

When Major Munro's eighty officers and men arrived inside the house of refuge, they found that the few civilians, ladies, and children of Aurungpore had all escaped thereto, having been warned in time. At the first sign of outbreak they had found access to the fort impossible, and had taken refuge in the Commissioner's house, the largest and strongest in the town, situated within easy reach of all the European bungalows, and close to the fort itself. They were in sore plight when the soldiers forced their way in--another half-hour would have been too late.

From roof, loophole, and sheltered parapet blazed the muskets of the Rajputs, lending their aid to the rifles of the English gentlemen, and the mob drew back, raging furiously, but afraid to strike at close quarters. The sad story was told; dry-eyed but heavy-hearted the residents heard of the murder of their friends. The wounded men were speedily given every possible assistance, and the ladies left nothing undone to alleviate their pain. To tend the sufferers was their first care, but the great-hearted Englishwomen insisted on taking their share in the defence, refusing to leave the posts of danger for the comparative safety of the inner rooms whilst there were rifles and muskets to load and hand to the marksmen.

Greatly to his dismay Munro found it quite impossible to send aid to the little garrison of the fort, the route being blocked by hundreds of fanatical savages. If he should despatch even half his command to break their way through they would be destroyed, and the remaining half would fall an easy prey to the triumphant rebels.

The continued fusillade from the direction of the fort told him that the handful of defenders he had left behind was being hotly assailed, and he sadly feared that he had left them there to die. Bitterly the major regretted his error. Such concentrated fury on the part of the inhabitants had never been anticipated; he had felt sure of clearing the street and bringing the party safely back, and he had made a mistake.

Colonel Woodburn's wound, though serious, was not dangerous, and before long Ethel was able to leave him for a short time. Whilst the soldiers were breaking their way through the crowd, she had seen her father carried in their midst, and had eyes for none but him. Now she looked around for Ted and could not see him.

"Where is Ted Russell, Major Munro? He's not--surely he has not been murdered!"

Munro was agitated, and showed it.

"He's in the fort, Ethel; I left Lowthian, Tynan, and Russell with a few sepoys to guard it, and they're being attacked. Listen! I ought not to have left 'em. Leigh," he exclaimed, turning to an officer beside him, "is there nothing to be done? Can we leave those fellows to die? And if the fort is captured there is no escape for us!"

Lieutenant Leigh shook his head.

"We are helpless, sir. If we make a sortie not one of us would reach the fort, and the women would be left without protectors."

Still the rattle of musketry kept up, and the inmates listened with troubled hearts for the firing to cease--the signal of the capture of the fort and the death of its garrison.

"It's stopped!" groaned Sir Arthur Fletcher, and a shudder ran through the house.

Ethel Woodburn turned pale, shuddered, and gripped the table for support. Ted Russell murdered by those savages! She recalled the ensign's merry looks and honest nature, and realized what a place the boy had won in her heart. Could it be possible that she would never see him again? How terribly cut up Jim would be!

Jim! Aye, what of him? If her own trusted, well-tried regiment could so suddenly transform itself into a horde of fiends, what might not have happened to the Guides, that collection of outlaws and robbers? In all probability her lover had already been murdered. Her grief for Ted gave way to a greater anxiety regarding the fate of her betrothed. She walked aimlessly towards the window and looked out upon the distant mob, her thoughts far away from Aurungpore.

"Miss Woodburn, for heaven's sake come away from the window!" Sir Arthur Fletcher almost shrieked as he planted himself in front of the girl.

"They are not firing now, but--"

A bullet crashed through the shattered window, and passing within an inch of the Commissioner's head, flattened itself against the far wall.

Ethel awoke and skipped aside, and, seeing that she was safe, Sir Arthur followed suit. She had forgotten her own danger; she had not reflected that, even had the Guides proved true to their salt, nothing seemed less likely than that Jim Russell would ever see her again. She thanked Sir Arthur mechanically, and began to wonder how poor Jim would bear the news of her death. Having no doubt of his great love for her, her grief was more for him than for herself, horrible as the outlook was.

Led by Major Munro, the men grimly went on with their work of strengthening the defences of the house, whilst their picked shots replied to the random firing.

Suddenly another volley rang out from the direction of the fort; then a second; then the loud irregular firing of the pandies.

"They're not done for yet!" Munro cried. "Thank God, there is still a chance!"

For half an hour the distant firing was heard, and intense anxiety prevailed as it gradually died away. The tension was nerve-shattering; so much so, that a half-hearted attack upon the house came almost as a relief from the suspense. Strong in their defences, they once more beat the rebels back with heavy loss, and another weary period of waiting ensued.

Volley after volley, regular and disciplined as though with blank cartridge on parade, caused their hearts to beat more wildly. What could it mean? The volley was too heavy to have been the work of the little garrison, and so far the traitors had fired independently, as each man thought best, without regard to any word of command. Could help have come?

They looked out towards the parade-ground, and the unconcerned appearance of the groups that moved restlessly up and down destroyed this wild hope. Besides, who could possibly have come to the rescue?

They had heard the cracks of the volleys that covered the first rush of the battering crews. Unable to fathom its meaning, they rejoiced therein as a proof that their comrades still held out.

Again a lull, and again an assault upon their own stronghold, directed this time against the rear of the house. For a space they had no time to think of the fort, so hotly were they engaged; but the rabble lacked resolute leaders, and the budmashes would obey no commands. Thirty of their bravest were slain, and the others sneaked away like a pack of wolves, beaten and cowed. So far the garrison had lost only two men killed and one badly wounded.

The sun was wheeling slowly downwards beyond the fort, and for a time no sound had been heard save the yells of the excited mob ebbing and flowing through the streets.

"It seems wicked to stay here in safety, Major," Ethel whispered, "and to think of our plucky fellows at the mercy of those fiends."

The major made no reply. For hours that same thought had made him wretched, but he knew better than she how helpless was their own position.

"Could we not make a sortie?" the girl continued. "Might it not be possible, as soon as darkness comes, for us all to make a rush for the fort? We might take them completely by surprise, and once inside, a hundred could hold it for weeks. If only we could get the guns!"

Munro shook his head sadly.

"A hundred to one that we should find the rebels in possession, Ethel,"

he made answer, "and then all would indeed be lost. But we should never get so far. Here we may hold our own for days--unless indeed the pandies take the fort and are able to load the guns--but not for half an hour in the street with women to protect and wounded men to carry. No, it is not possible; would it were! Believe me, Ethel, there is not a man here but would gladly take the risk if we had only ourselves to think of."

"I know it well," she admitted, "and I know you are right; but it is horrible, horrible to think of, and it is our fault. If we were not here you men could rescue them. That seems so hard."

"Listen!" said Leigh. "I think I hear the sound of firing again. It is very faint."

Everyone listened intently, and Ethel could hear the ticking of her watch. She was the first to break the silence.

"I think I hear it. The sound comes from inside the fort."

She had hardly spoken the words when the roar of a tremendous explosion filled their ears and almost deafened them. The house shook, and a column of dense smoke rose where the fort had been. They looked at one another with blanched faces and then at the ruin in front. That portion of the fort which contained the magazine was demolished, and some buildings that had partially obstructed their view were dismantled or levelled with the ground. Streams of natives rushed to and fro in wild confusion, shrieking with pain and fear. Masses of timber and masonry fell around, killing numbers in the closely-packed streets, and the scene was one of destruction and desolation.

Major Munro clapped his hand to his thigh; his face glowed with admiration and enthusiasm.

"Lowthian's done that!" he exclaimed. "He's saved the arsenal from their clutches.----Gallant fellows!"

"But what of Ted Russell?" Ethel breathlessly asked. "And of Lieutenant Lowthian and the others?" she added as an afterthought.

Munro hesitated before replying.

"I'm afraid there's little hope for them, my dear Ethel; though they do say that those nearest sometimes escape better than others farther away." This was also an afterthought, added from a weak desire to cheer.

The girl turned away her head to hide her emotion and returned to her father's room. In awed whispers the men discussed the glorious act, and various conjectures were hazarded as to the manner of its doing and the possibility of their comrades' escape.

Away in the west the sun had just vanished below the horizon and darkness set in swiftly. The vicinity of the Commissioner's house seemed deserted, and no fresh attack was made that night. Evidently that bloodthirsty crew was awed and its ardour damped by the appalling vengeance taken by the unbeaten handful. Scores had been killed, and yet more injured, by the force of the explosion.

They had been taught the lesson that it does not pay to push white men too far, and Munro felt assured that for that night at least the house was safe. Yet he neglected no precaution, and guards were set on every side, whilst the remainder of the garrison were ordered to rest whether they wished to or not. Few could sleep, try as they would, and a loud challenge by one of the sentries at the rear brought men and women flocking to the scene, ready for the fray.

Ethel hastened to the spot, in time to see the door thrown open, and two ragged figures, black with smoke and grime, enter the house. A loud cheer was raised as the door was shut and barricaded.

"Ted!" she joyfully cried. "You, Ted?"

To our hero's embarrassment she stepped forward and kissed his smoke-begrimed countenance.