The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib, G. A. Henty [different e readers .txt] 📗

herself to a native, and to receive her for a year at the rectory; but that her behaviour, in so precipitately engaging herself to a rough sailor, rendered it impossible to countenance her. As she stated that she had come over with a sum sufficient to pay her expenses, while in England, she advised her to ask the captain--who, by the way, must have grossly neglected his duties by allowing an intimacy between her and his mate--to place her in some school, where she would be well looked after until her return to India.

The Indian blood in Margaret's veins boiled fiercely, and she wrote her aunt a letter which caused that lady to congratulate herself on the good fortune that had prevented her from having to receive, under her roof, a girl of so objectionable and violent a character.

Although the language that John Holland used concerning this letter was strong, indeed, he was well satisfied, as he had foreseen that it was not probable Margaret's friends would have allowed her to marry him, without communicating with her father; and that the rajah might have projects of his own for her disposal. He laid the case before the captain, who placed her in charge of his wife, until the marriage took place.

Except for the long absences of her husband, Margaret's life had been a very happy one, and she was looking forward to the time when, after another voyage, he would be able to give up his profession and settle down upon his savings.

When months passed by, and no news came of the Hooghley having reached port, Mrs. Holland at once gave up her house and moved into a smaller one; for, although her income would have been sufficient to enable her to remain where she was, she determined to save every penny she was able, for the sake of her boy. She was possessed of strong common sense and firmness of character, and when Ben Birket returned with his tale, he was surprised at the composure with which she received it.

"I have always," she said, "had a conviction that John was still alive, and have not allowed Dick to think of his father as dead; and now I believe, as firmly as before, that someday John will be restored to me. I myself can do nothing towards aiding him. A woman can do little, here. She can do nothing in India, save among her own people. I shall wait patiently, for a time. It may be that this war will result in his release. But in the meantime, I shall continue to prepare Dick to take up the search for him, as soon as he is old enough.

"I hear, once a year, from my brother, who is now rajah; and he will be able to aid my boy, in many ways. However, for a time I must be patient and wait. I have learnt to wait, during my husband's long absences; and besides, I think that the women of India are a patient race. I trust that John will yet come home to me, but if not, when it is time, we will try to rescue him."

Ben said nothing, at the time, to damp her courage; but he shook his head, as he left the cottage.

"Poor creature," he said. "I would not say anything to discourage her, but for a woman and boy to try to get a captive out of the claws of the Tiger of Mysore is just madness."

Each time he returned from a voyage, Ben called upon Mrs. Holland. He himself had given up every vestige of hope, when it was known that the name of her husband was not among the list of those whom Tippoo had been forced to release. Margaret Holland, however, still clung to hope. Her face was paler, and there was a set, pathetic expression in it; so, when she spoke of her husband as being still alive, Ben would sooner have cut out his tongue than allow the slightest word, indicative of his own feeling of certainty as to the captain's fate, to escape him; and he always made a pretence of entering warmly into her plans.

The training, as she considered it, of her son went on steadily. She always conversed with him in her father's language, and he was able to speak it as well as English. She was ever impressing upon him that he must be strong and active. When he was twelve, she engaged an old soldier, who had set up a sort of academy, to instruct him in the use of the sword; and in such exercises as were calculated to strengthen his muscles, and to give him strength and agility.

Unlike most mothers, she had no word of reproach when he returned home from school with a puffed face, or cut lips; the signs of battle.

"I do not want you to be quarrelsome," she often said to him, "but I have heard your father say that a man who can use his fists well is sure to be cool and quick, in any emergency. You know what is before you, and these qualities are of far more importance, in your case, than any book learning. Therefore, Dick, I say, never quarrel on your own account, but whenever you see a boy bullying a smaller one, take the opportunity of giving him a lesson while learning one yourself. In the days of old, you know, the first duty of a true knight was to succour the oppressed, and I want you to be a true knight. You will get thrashed sometimes, no doubt, but don't mind that. Perhaps, next time, you will turn the tables."

Dick acted upon this advice and, by the time he was fifteen, had established a reputation among, not only the boys of his own school, but of the district. In addition to his strength and quickness, he had a fund of dogged endurance, and imperturbable good temper, that did not fail him; even on the rare occasions when, in combats with boys much older than himself, he was forced to admit himself defeated.

The fact that he fought, not because he was angry, but as if it were a matter of business, gave him a great advantage; and his readiness to take up the cause of any boy ill-treated by another was so notorious, that "I will tell Dick Holland" became a threat that saved many a boy from being burned.

Ten days before his conversation with Ben, his mother had said:

"Dick, I can stand this no longer. I have tried to be patient, for six years, but I can be patient no longer. I feel that another year of suspense would kill me. Therefore, I have made up my mind to sail at once. The voyage will take us five months, and perhaps you may have to remain some little time, at my brother's, before you can start.

"Now that the time is come, I think that perhaps I am about to do wrong, and that it may cost you your life. But I cannot help it, Dick. I dream of your father almost every night, and I wake up thinking that I hear him calling upon me to help him. I feel that I should go mad, if this were to last much longer."

"I am ready, Mother," the boy said, earnestly. "I have been hoping, for some time, that you would say you would start soon; and though I have not, of course, the strength of a man, I think that will be more than made up by the advantage I should have, as a boy, in looking for my father; and at any rate, from what you tell me, I should think that I am quite as strong as an average native of your country.

"Anyhow, Mother, I am sure that it will be best for us to go now. It must have been awful for you, waiting all this time; and though you have never said anything about it, I have noticed for a long time that you were looking ill, and was sure that you were worrying terribly. What would be the use of staying any longer? I should not be very much stronger in another year than I am now, and a year would seem an age, to Father."

And so it was settled, and Mrs. Holland at once began to make preparations for their departure. She had already, without saying anything to Dick, given notice that she should give up the house. She had, during the six years, saved a sum of money amply sufficient for the expenses of the journey and outfit, and she had now only to order clothes for herself and Dick, and to part with her furniture.

Ben, on his return, had heard with grave apprehension that she was about to carry out her intention; but, as he saw that any remonstrance on his part would be worse than useless, he abstained from offering any, and warmly entered into her plans. After an hour's talk, he had proposed to Dick to go out for a stroll with him.

"I am glad to have a talk with you, Ben," Dick said. "Of course, I have heard, from Mother, what you told her when you came home; but I shall be glad to hear it from you, so as to know exactly how it all was. You know she feels sure that Father is still alive. I should like to know what your opinion really is about it. Of course, it will make no difference, as I should never say anything to her; but I should like to know whether you think there is any possibility of his being alive."

To this Ben had replied as already related. He was silent when Dick asserted that, desperate or not, he intended to carry out his mother's plan.

"I would not say as I think it altogether desperate, as far as you are concerned," he said thoughtfully. "It don't seem to me as there is much chance of your ever getting news of your father, lad; and as to getting him out of prison, if you do come to hear of him; why, honest, I would not give a quid of 'baccy for your chance; but I don't say as I think that it is an altogether desperate job, as far as you are concerned, yourself. Talking their lingo as you do, it's just possible as you might be able to travel about, in disguise, without anyone finding you out; especially as the Rajah, your uncle, ought to be able to help you a bit, and put you in the way of things, and perhaps send some trusty chap along with you. There is no doubt you are strong for your age, and being thin, and nothing but muscle, you would pass better as a native than if you had been thick and chunky. My old woman tells me as you have a regular name as a fighter, and that you have given a lesson to many a bully in the neighbourhood. Altogether, there is a lot in your favour, and I don't see why you should not pull through all right; at any rate, even should the worst come to the worst, and you do get news, somehow, that your poor father has gone down, I am sure it will be better for your mother than going on as she has done for the last six years, just wearing herself out with anxiety."

"I am sure it will, Ben. I can tell you that it is as much as I can do, sometimes, not to burst out crying when I see her sitting, by the hour, with her eyes open, but not seeing anything, or moving as much as a finger--just thinking, and thinking, and thinking.

"I wish we were going out in your ship, Ben."

"I wish you was, lad; but it will be five or six weeks before we are off again. Anyhow, the ship you are going in--the Madras--is a fine craft, and the captain bears as high a character as anyone in the Company's fleet.

"Well, lad, I hope that it will all turn out well. If I could have talked the lingo like a native, I would have been glad to have gone with you, and taken my chances. The captain saved my life in that wreck, and it would only have been right that I should risk mine for him, if there was but a shadow of chance of its being of use. But I know that, in a job of this sort, I could be of no good whatsomever, and should be getting you into trouble before we had gone a mile together."

"I am sure that you would help, if you could, Ben; but, of course, you could be of no use."

"And when do you think of being home again, lad?"

"There is no saying, Ben--it may be years. But, however