Gil the Gunner, George Manville Fenn [fun books to read for adults txt] 📗

Ah, if I had only known of this when we met that regiment of sowars! Why, Gil, they must be the scoundrels who murdered their European officers here.”

“I’m afraid so,” I said.

“Then we must strike, and strike hard now, Gil. I am not unmerciful, but for the sake of home, and our English kindred, we must be stern as well as just. Come, you are better already.”

“No,” I said gloomily, “I am horribly troubled.”

“About what?”

“Nussoor.”

“Ah! where your father’s regiment is stationed?”

“Yes. My mother and sister are there. Oh, Brace, if my father has been surprised as these people were here, and—”

I stopped short—the words choked me.

“My dear Gil!” cried Brace, gently, “I see now. Yes; such thoughts are enough to chill any one. I had not thought of them. But come, come; we have enough to do to fight with real troubles. You must not build up imaginary ones. Your father is a good soldier, I have heard, and his regiment is noted for its discipline. Let us trust that he has not been surprised, but had warnings of the trouble to come, and has placed your mother and sister and the other ladies of his station in safety.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly, for his words were comforting; and I knew that my trouble was imaginary.

“Hah, that’s better!” he cried. “Come, we must be getting near the town.”

We were passing through a wooded part of the country now, the road being cut in several places through patches of forest; and scouts and flankers were sent out to make sure against surprise, as we were getting so near the enemy’s lair.

Ten minutes later there was an alarm in front, shouts and the clashing of swords, and in a wonderfully short time a couple of guns were unlimbered and ready for action, while Haynes was sent forward to support our men as they were out of sight beyond the trees, and did not return.

But before Haynes had gone far, he met them coming back, to report that they had surprised a picket of half a dozen sowars who were watching our road.

“And you let them gallop off,” cried Brace, angrily, “to alarm their comrades?”

“No, sir,” said the corporal, who was at the head of the advance; “we went at ’em directly.”

“How many got back?”

“None on ’em, sir.”

“Anybody hurt?”

“No, sir. Scratch or two on the horses’ heads and necks; that’s all.”

The orders were given to limber up again, and we advanced once more, as soon as the farriers had roughly seen to the injuries the horses had received; and as we went on, I caught a glimpse or two of the white uniforms and puggrees of the sowars in amongst the trees to right and left, the broken-down twigs and herbage showing where the running fight had taken place.

Brace reined up by one of the dead men.

“Why, Gil,” he said, “this must be the same regiment as the one we met.”

I was thinking the same, and said so.

“The scoundrels! If we could only surprise them. We are so weak in numbers, I hardly dare leave my guns; otherwise, with a troop of our lads to act as cavalry, I could pretty well cut them up, and scatter the rest, so that they would not do much more mischief for months to come.”

“Hush!” I whispered, as I caught his arm. “What’s that?”

“The first gun bumping over bad ground and rattling.”

“No; it’s firing,” I whispered, though the sound must have been a mile away.

“Yes; you are right. What is going on now? some fresh outrage?”

Our pace was increased, and orders given to the advance-guard to increase their distance ahead.

The firing grew fiercer, and a halt was called, the guns took up position, and we waited full of anxiety for news from the scouts sent out.

We had not long to wait in our uncertainty, for one of our men galloped back with the information that the firing was on this side of the town, and, directly after, a second man dashed up with the news that a regiment of cavalry in white coats was in full retreat toward us.

“Then they are being driven out by the foot regiment, which must have returned. Stand fast, my lads, if they charge us; but I doubt whether they will come right up to the guns.”

A few exciting minutes passed, and then, as the running, trampling noise of a large body of horse came nearer, Brace rode from gun to gun, giving his order that no shot should be fired till he was certain these were not friends, and then the fire was to be concentrated on the advancing column.

The sun had gone down, and night was coming on fast, but as the head of the regiment came into sight, the firing having ceased beyond them, Brace’s glass satisfied him as to whom these were.

“The sowar regiment!” he cried. “Fire!”

One after the other rapidly the six guns thundered forth a terrible reception, just as, in fairly good order, the regiment in full retreat came on at a gallop, and in perfect ignorance of our proximity.

It was the work of a moment; I saw the white column galloping toward us looking dim and strange, like some strange body rushing along beneath a cloud of dust; then it was rent and torn and thrown into confusion, as round shot and canister hurtled through the rank; and at the sixth report the road was littered with struggling horses, and then the fields on either side dotted with galloping fugitives, and the sowar regiment that had been tearing across the road towards us was non-existent.

Six shots; no more. By the time another one had reloaded, there were only flying individuals to aim at as they galloped over the plain, and Brace looked in vain for a rallying point, and the gathering together of a troop at which a round shot could be aimed.

“Sauve qui peut!” cried Brace, as orders were given for a fresh advance. “We cannot pursue them. Now forward for the town.”

“Some one coming,” I said, as the galloping of a horse was heard.

“Their last man,” said Brace. “Open out, my lads, and capture him.”

The horseman came on at a swinging gallop, and made straight for us, checking his charger as he drew near, and we saw that the face of the rider was white.

“Where’s your officer?” he cried hoarsely, as he reined up, with his sword hanging by the knot from his wrist.

“Here,” replied Brace.

“Thank God!” cried the new-comer. “I’m Mason—Captain Mason, 04th Highlanders. You fired on those bloodthirsty scoundrels.”

“And scattered the regiment. I could do no more.”

“Ah, if you could have shot them to a man! We were called away to help at Miapore, where a sepoy regiment mutinied. It was a long march, and as soon as we had gone—the European officers of that cursed regiment answering for their men’s fidelity—they rose and murdered the poor fellows who trusted them, and then—”

He stopped there and groaned.

“My wife—her sister—two of my little children—the whole of the English residents, and— Oh, why don’t you pursue? Hah!”

“Take care!” I roared, as I snatched sword from sheath, pistol from holster, and fired, for, from out of the gathering darkness, a dozen of the sowars, men who had recovered their horses, or those of slain men, dashed down upon us like a whirlwind right for where Brace stood talking to the Highland officer.

As I fired into the thick of them, I saw one man throw up his sword, but I also saw a fierce-looking savage charge right at Brace, who was unprepared; the sowar’s sword was raised, and he made a tremendous cut at our captain, one which must have ended his career; but, quick with the quickness begotten by practice and peril, our new friend caught and raised the point of his sword; and in the act of delivering his cut, the man was literally transfixed. He fell back over the cantrel of his saddle, and as his horse dashed on, he was dragged out of the saddle by Captain Mason’s jerk to withdraw his sword.

I saw all this, and almost at the same moment was conscious of a crushing blow on the head, accompanied by a terrible shock, and then I was looking stupidly at the doctor, who was kneeling by me in the road.

“Here, what is it?” I cried angrily. “Who was it rode me down? Is my horse hurt?”

“Never mind your horse, Gil. Speak, lad. Doctor. His head?”

“Oh, his head’s right enough,” said the doctor, as I struggled into a sitting position, and felt very sick and giddy. “I say, Vincent, my lad, you will have to send the accoutrement-maker a testimonial. Here’s a tremendous dint in your helmet, but it has saved your life.”

“Then he isn’t killed, sir?” cried a familiar voice.

“No, my lad; only a bit stunned,” said the doctor.

“Hooray!” rose in a tremendous cheer, in which every man in the troop seemed to join.

“Nice to be a favourite,” I heard Haynes say.

“But, look here,” I cried in an irritated way, “I don’t quite understand it. My head’s all—I— Why, some one must have knocked me down. Did I pitch on to my helmet, then?”

“My dear boy, you were struck down by a sowar, and your helmet saved your life.”

“The savage brute!” I cried pettishly. “It couldn’t have been the one who rode at you, because— Yes, I remember. Then the man who rode at me got off free.”

“Humph!” ejaculated the doctor, turning round and looking off to our right.

I followed his eyes, and saw a white figure lying face downward among some green corn.

“Yes,” said the doctor, “that is he; and you may thank Haynes for saving your life.”

“Oh, nonsense!” cried my brother-officer hastily. “We can’t be talking about that sort of thing; it’s nonsense. I only did what any one else would have done. Steady there, my lads. Silence in the ranks.”

The word was given to advance directly after, and in a few minutes there was a burst of cheers from on in front, where a skirmishing party of Captain Mason’s regiment had come upon our advance-guard.

This was answered by our troop, and directly after the officers were eagerly talking together as we marched into the outskirts of the little town, and soon after were congratulating ourselves on the excellent quarters we had found, the foot regiment being most eager in showing us where we could obtain provisions, and the necessaries for a restful night.

About an hour after, when the sentinels and outposts had been visited, and the round made of the horses, I was one of a party in one of the ruined rooms of the residency, where the officers were debating what steps should be taken at daylight the next morning, and matters were still in doubt as to whether we should march east or west when a prisoner was brought in. This was a shivering non-combatant, who eagerly gave every information he knew about the movements of the rebels, and was able to inform us, by way of buying his own life, as he thought, that the sowars were going to join the rajah, Ny Deen, the next morning, when their arrangements were suddenly upset by the return of the foot regiment which, on finding out that it had been deluded, came back by a forced march, but too late to save those at the station.

“Then the relics of the regiment will still seek to join this revolted rajah,” said the colonel of the foot regiment. “But his power has been broken up,” said Brace. “We put him to flight.”

“They’ll try to join him, all the same,” cried the colonel.

“The only hope of these men,” he continued, “is in co-operation. Depend upon it, the scoundrels will move west, and I say we ought to follow. Our march must be on Badhpore, and from thence in the direction of Nussoor. What do you say?”

“I say,” cried Brace, “that we are weak without infantry, and you are feeble without guns. It is a question of