A MUTINY REMINISCENCE.

Thames Star, Volume XIII, Issue 4284, 23 September 1882, Page 1

A MUTINY REMINISCENCE.

Ik March '67, the Indian Mutiny began. People had been slumbering peaceably for some time, bat this event roused them. Having remarked however,that no doubt it was going to be quelled at once, they turned over and went to sleep again. ■' Holding this opinion Colonel Gray ' commanding the—th-rthen stationed at Bandermunda—gave a ball; and at this ball the following conversation took place:— '' , "Pretty? •'Pretty' is not the word for it. ' Lovely' I say." > " Perhaps, but no more animation than a poker." ' . r. " That's how you take it.. For my part I like repose." " And I motion. Miss Gray is an ice* " For shame.!" exclaimed, a voice be* hind them; and Captain Waring suddenly came, round the curtains upon the two men who had been canvassing the colonel's niece so freely. "For shame! Where has your taste gone, my masters t The idea of such perfection being critisise'd in that way when garrison hacks are as.plentiful as peas—here, there, and everywhere!'' . "You should'nt have listened then," retorted the sub. saucily. "I"didn't. I caught only your last words. Anyone would have thought that, even in those—to you—disadvantageous circumstances, she was a refreshing sort of person to know, in weather like this, with the thermometer a few hundred in the shade—moon-shade, I mean—and waltzes danced at steam-rate. Iceberg^ by Jove ! It's my next dance ; I'll go and see if she can cool me 1" with which remark the captain left them, picking his way carefully to where the lady of their talk was seated. '■ If Waring only manages to wake up," said the sub., as soon as the other was out of hearing with a meaning smile, and he strolled off lazily into the gardens.,; t "Yes," said Markham Shaw, as he watched Miss Gray's quiet eyes brighten* ing when her partner approached. *' She seems struck, too.. Crpdite,jH)ste?i 1 - She evidently yawned thrice, although Gabby Anstruther was in the middle of one of his .most brilliant flights." . °. .•< 1 Gabby Anstruther bad obtained that strange affix from his supposedeloquence; and Markham Shaw, a clever young fellow in the Civil Service, but of strange diffidence in relation to-ladies, was apt-to look rather unkindly on the virtues and graces of his fellows which he himrelf did not possess. • " : , , ." /; : " Hallo, Gabby," he cried, as that now dismissed worthy strolled aimlessly toward the door—" cut out, I see!" " Exactly!" retorted Ahstruther a little pettishly. " But don't be so confoundedly familiar I" _ > "I'm sorry for you," laughed Markham. "But you oan't expect to make any running in that quarter. She has struck her flag years ago—only Waring doesn't seem to., see it. Would you believe me if I told you that Miss Gray chevied a rat round her bed-room three times with a poker, and then slew it in the fire-grate?" ■'■i;;. l!';i : "I believe you to be capable of listen* ing to any bosh that anyone likes to tell

, \jou," growled the : other. ""Why •honldn'tlhe?" ' " Oh, I don't know! But she's such a sleepy* sort of, creature that it seems almost incredible." ■• . "'Do-you hke her?" asked Gabby, . leaning lazily against the door-post, and slowly lifting his eyes to the other's , face. "Well, no," answered Markham— " Can't say I do. She's not my style at all. I like animation, wit, and all that sort of thing." ,- . - "Has she snubbed you?" asked Gabby; aggravatingly. Markham laughed again. "Well, no. Why should she? I never gave her the chance—like you did." ' " . \ . Steps were heard on the verandah, accompanied by the gentle rustle of a ball dress. . ' "And you consider," went on Captain Waring, as he and his companion stopped , for a moment and looked out into the night, " that these—blacks have some : justification for their cruelty ?" -.- " Surely " was the reply. I .Markham Shaw looked at Gabby j Ansiruther, and the two walked away into ! the ball-room. . , " Have you heard the, story of Cawn- \ pore, or rather the fearful story that is! gradually gaining credence, and is now ! almoßt a fact ?" asked Captain Waring*: " "A messenger from there to-day corrob' j borated this report. Where is the justification of the murder of those men, women and children P. . Where can ,be ' the justification for that foul well choked , with their bodies ?" * ;l(iss Gray did not answer at once, but kept her eyes fixed on the beautiful scene beneath and around them. After a few moments, however, she said suddenly— " Had we not better seek that jußtifica» tion in the days of a Clive arid a Warren Hastings ?, Surely we have not far to go to find it. Captain Waring, there are things that in England women scarcely know as realities which are here manifest to the eyes of a child. When men go to ,- . India, it seems to me as though they go to a different world. When they leave England, they leave all their gentlemanly ness behind them with their dogs." "Pardon the interruption," said he, "but do you mean that men are without all refinement when they are here ?" " No, not exactly. 1 mean that when

they come to this country they seem to

.forget that the people over whom they are . placed by the chance of fate have feelings of honor like themselves. You know what I mean, don't you ?" She turned quickly and looked straight into his eyes. "Of course I should," she exclaimed

with animation—*" of course! Why, - Captain Waring, I often feel that I should like to have such an opportunity. I feel as if I should like to be a heroine—a woman who might do more than live like other women—dancing,knitting, and playing, and- screaming when danger comes I" " And this," thought Jack Waring, "is the iceberg." " Look there!" she said suddenly dropping her voice and pointing down to a , large grass-plot surrounded by bushes. *' Who is that ? He seems to be enjoying himself." ** Why, it is—yes, by . Jove, it's Brandon!" The young sub. was at that moment strolling up and down luxuriously puffing forth the smoke of a cigarette, unconscious „- of the sensation he was creating..

" He is a lazy boy," remarked the cap* tain reflectively—"just straight from . Eton."

"What small soldiers we. have!" said Miss Gray. " Why do they let them join so young ? He can't be more than sixteen ; is he ? "Oh, yes, he's eighteen" answered Capt. Waring, "and a fine enough lad in his way—plenty of pluck, and all that sort of thing—plays cricket magnificently and runs like a hare!" , "What an admirable Crichton," said Miss Gray, with a laugh. "But hark! they're striking up for the next waltz, and I'm engaged. I hope I shall get such another partner." " " Why ?" and Jack bowed.. " I mean one who will prefer sitting quiet to dancing in that oven." ' As she spoke Lieut. Hawksley came through the door, and, seeing her, claimed the dance. They went off together, leaving Waring % alone. He was still leaning against the railings of the veranda watching the dim figure of the sub. moving, up and down below him. '.' Brandon!" "Ah!" ' " Why the deuce aren't you dancing ?" "'Cause I ain't—no other reason. Who are you ? I can't see because of the shade. Is it the gallant Captain Waring?" •'.-... " It is, young impudence! '•Come down—there's a good fellow—

I want to speak te you." Jack walked along the rerandah to the 'steps that led down to the garden and descended them. Crossing the grass, he came up to Brandon. ••Well, what is it?" . " When are you going to barracks ?" •• In a little while, I think; why ?" ; -, "Because I want yon to walk home - with me." •• Consider the grind." .'•You la«y mortal, it's only three - miles; the erening will be coaparatirely 0001, and a walk across the fields and -, through Ben's: Brake will be somewhat refreshing.' 1 ■ " Supposing I do, what then ?" " At what time does the ball end P" ** Two, I think.. The colonel was called away, you know, but left his wishes

behind that it shouldn't bo postponed; consequently it wasn't. But it won't go on long.", " Well,' then, we'll go and say ' Goodnight' to the hostess." " And Miss Gray " put in the sub. as as they started. They found the colonel's wife and thanked her for their pleasant evening, the captain not forgetting her niece. " And now," said Jack, " here we are— fire away!" The road that led up to Colonel Gray's bungalow was a curious one—what was called a " wiggle-waggle "—that is almost a series of semicircles joined together, and making a chain. There were three of these semicircles. The first on the left— which was larger than the others—contained what was called the fort. Past it the road bulged into the second ; and to the right of this—though not within itwas a wood or jangle, the outskirts of which straggled over the road as sea waves over a sand ridge.

Where the second left off and the third began was a path through the foiest which was called Ben's Brake. This last semi- circle, running oat to the left, was cut a quarter of the way up by a crossroad, which, shooting off at right angles, skirled the trees till it reached the cantonment of Bandermunda and the barracks. A little way away from where the cross-lode left the main road was yet another branch. This was the real continuation of the semicircles, or the Ban* dermunda Eoad.

The third was an unimportant " waggle," and had been made merely for the convenience of the residents at the colonel's bungalow ; it rejoined the main road farther on. The distance from Col. Gray's residence to the entrance of Ben's Brake was" two miles, and it was another two miles from there to the barThere was the other way of proceeding thither—from Ben's Brake to the fort; that was ten miles as the crow flies— allowing for the curve, perhaps it was twelve. The captain and Brandon intended to go by the Brake, because it was a much nicer walk. "Well," said Waring, after a brief, silence, when they had left the house and ' started on their journey, ". You've taken no notice to my remark. Fire away !" The sub. watched the smoke as it floated from his lips, and then said provokingly— " How did you get on with her ?" " With whom ?" asked Jack impatiently. " The iceberg, of course. Whom else should'l mean?" " Hang jour impudence .'" cried Waring. " I'll wring your neck in a minute!" Brandon threw away his cigarette and proceeded to light a fresh one. "Wring away," he said. "My head is like a bell when I come to think of it— mellow, deep, sonorous—that sort of thing!" ' , " Cracked and empty rather," retorted the other. " Talking of bells," remarked.Brandon, " do you remember little Belle ?" " Belle Wood ? Bather —she was my god-daughter. What of her ?" " She dead," said the sub. gently. Waring stopped. " Dead ? Are you sure ?" "Perfectly."

They went on again in silence, Cecil Brandon looking away from his companion's face ; for the captain was very fond of his little god-daughter, Pet—the 11 pet of the regiment." " How do you know ?" " Mrs Wood was a great friend of my mother's, and was very kind to me, as you will remember. She is a sort of relative, you know—her niece is my cousin. Well, Nell wrote to me, telling me all about it, and asked me to break it to you. Being naturally clumsy, I have done it after my own way—clumsily." " Go on." " Well, on the morning the child died, before going out for a walk with her ayah, the little one insisted on kissing Mrs Wood, and kept saying * Good-by.' They didn't return at luncheon time, so Mrs Wood went down to the stream where they usually walked. She found Belle—"

" Drowned ?" "In the water—pierced with a bayonet." " Good Heaven !" " And the ayah lying stabbed on the bed." " Mrs Wood ?" ! "Is dying or else going mad." ; There was silence for a few moments. ! •' This is horrible," snid Waring at last. "It is, and it means mischief," re* marked Brandon. Jack was wondering if he was dreaming, Belle, dear little Belle, who had sat on his knee a week ago, dead! " You saw that thing ?" suddenly said Brandon, " What thing ?" and Waring looked up quietly. " Something white," answered his , riend, looking toward the* side of the | fank. i " I see nothing," said Jack. " Nor do I now; bat I saw something j then.,' ".Nonsense." v They walked on in silence again. The third semicircle had just been finished and the second begun. For a moment the' road was almost straight. Ben's Brake was four hundred yards ahead. ! "Waring!" •,. . ! "I saw it. There it is 1" The figure hurried along beneath the bank that constituted the side of the road. The light was grey; and so was it. Stopping for a moment, it moved about irresolutely, and then went on again. " Bran—" But Brandon was off. The Etonian was a capital runner, and had only won the "Quarter" at his school. Waring, however, was the stronger man, and in better training—the old days at Shrewsbury had not been rough ones to no purpose. He reached the sub. in two hundred yards, passed him in fifty more, and in another hundred was close upon the flying figure in front. Suddenly it turned. Waring slackened his pace a little, expecting the figure to dodge or bolt at right angles; but the banks stopped the manoeuvre. Cecil was j only a few yards behind. The captain | jumped forward and then stood still. The other was bounding past, when he caught him by the collar and held him back with all his strength. " Let me go," panted Brandon.

11 It's a woman," said Waring. " It's Seeta."^

He released Brandon snd stepped forward.

" They're talking Hindostan c," muttered Cecil; and then he coiu-hed.

Waring turned and gave him nn angry loolr.

■ " She's quite pre(fy, if my eyes don't deceive, me," thought the sub. as he cast one glance, and then took out his handkerchief. "My Jove I have squashed that cigarette to atoms for a running stick. Where the deuce did Waring learn to run. I wonder? I thought I could beat any man in " Ours " at my own distance ; but it appears I can't." "Brandon!" " Yes'r ; is it your pleasure that I approach now?" and he saluted. " Don't be a fool. This lady here- " The captain paused. " Yes'r; this lady here—" Jack scowled.

"The fact is," said Waring, "Seeta's father's is a Sepoy. She has overheard a plot to surprise the fort, murder the men at the barracks, and massacre all the English.

" And you believe—the lady ?" said Cecil Brandon, laughing. "I do."

"Consider what a merry jest it would be if we went and roused every one, and it ail turned out a hoax."

Sceta exclaimed something in Hindostanee, which the sub. did not understand. Waring turned on him rather fiercely. " I'll stake my life that her words are true. Cecil, for Heaven's sake drop your nonsense ! The girl is true as steel."

" Then we must be quick," said Brandon, gravely, his manner changing in a moment.

" The signal is to be the burning of Col. Gray's bungalow." Brandon winced for a moment; but the light was very grey. " And the signal for that will be the putting out of the lights in the house." The sub. looked at his watch. " Good Heaven," he cried, "it is twelve minutes to two." " Ah, but," said Waring, " they won't be punctual." . *' They may." " Then we must act. lam your senior officer; the post of danger is mine. I will warn the fort. You hurry back like the. wind to the colonel's, and bid them to keep the lights burning—then dash en to the barracks, knock up Campbell, and tell him to send a few companies to the fort to help the.garrison. Now be off." "One moment," said Cecil. "Shake hands, it may be the last time." He came quietly to the other, pressed his hand, and then sped up the BandermundaEoad. " You must go' to the colonel's," he shouted back, and in a moment was out of sight, hurrying round the curve. The captain ran a few yards after him, and then stopped seeing how useless pur* suit would be. The lights of the bungalow might be out at any minute; all depended on the lights. " Noble lad !"■■ muttered Jack, and then turned back and called " Seeta." "Sahib!" "You have saved us all." "It is not for the others —it is for you." " And now," Jack went on, taking no notice of her remark, "you must get home. The men are about; they may make you pay for your information. Good night! ' God bless you ' I say for all these people, whether they live or die." He bent down, raised her band to his lips, and kissed, it—then turned and ran for his life—all their lives—especially Nellie Gray's life. Waring was approaching the thick grass by the jungle path. He was scarcely a hundred yards from it, when he suddenly slackened speed to look at his watch. " Hang it," he muttered, " I forgot to wind it up." As he uttered the words, ho heard a foot fall behind him. Before he went to the colonel's ball he had been cutting his finger nails, a prosaic matter enough; but it reminded him that a good sharp penknife, with a big blade three inches long was in his pocket. This he pulled out as he ran. Opening it, he turned on his pursuer. " Seeta I" he exclaimed, on seeing who it was. She hurried to his side, pointing excitedly with her finger up the road. As he stopped irresolute for a moment, her shoulder touched his, and, before he knew what she was going to do, she kissed him on the lips. Then she sped away, crying to him to run for his life—that the mutineers were behind. He,, started, with the knife firmly gripped in bis hand, using it like a ..running stick, and soon came up to her. Keeping to her rle;hfc, he held on, determined to pull her by the arm it they could not progress any other way. Even as they ran; however, he wondered why she had kissed him. They entered the dark jungle path, through which they had to pass before reaching the place where the three roads met. Suddenly Seeta dropped behind. Jack slackened his pace. " Come on, Seeta—l will wait for you." She caught up to him, running now on his right, though more slowly. A tree had been blown down, and lay on the slanting bank. As they reached it she quickened her pace. "Now for your life, my darling." She spoke in Hindostanee, and he understood her meaning. For a moment she shot ahead, and thon ha overtook her, straining every nerve to do so. Jack had often run a stiff race in the old school days, toiling after the huntsmen over the Haughmond Hill and the " Long," or else breasting those terrible hedges in the steeplechase—once against Gilford, the Salopian, who was a 'varsity blue ; but never had he so fearful a race as this with the native girl down the gorge of Bandermunda Road—step to step—almost stride to stride—shoulder to shoulder through the night air. The wind whistled in his ears, and. the water gathered in his eyes as they tore on in their mad rush. Then there came a flash from behind him—a sharp report—the ring of a bullet. Still they, pressed on. There appeared another thin jet of fire, and the " ping " of the leaden messenger whistled past their faces. Still on, shoulder to shoulder. . ' Once more came the sudden flash, and* then, mingled with the report, was heard a gargling cry; a white figure leaped I straight up into the air, and.all was over. Jack was running alone. " Oh, Seeta I" he cried, and stopped.

(To he continued?)