With Clive in India; Or, The Beginnings of an Empire, G. A. Henty [the two towers ebook txt] 📗

fort, with the news that you utterly desert them, that you intend to remain quietly here, while they are sacrificed before your eyes? Is it possible that you are capable of such infamy as this?"

"Infamy!" exclaimed the three men, rising to their feet.

"I place you in arrest at once, for your insolence," Mr. Drake said.

"I despise your arrest, as I do yourself.

"I did not believe it possible," Charlie said, at last giving vent to his anger and scorn; "and England will not believe, that three Englishmen so cowardly, so infamous as yourselves, are to be found.

"As for you, Captain Minchin, if ever after this I come across you, I will flog you publicly first, and shoot you afterwards like a dog, if you dare to meet me.

"As for you, Mr. Drake—as for you, Captain Young—you will be doomed to infamy, by the contempt and loathing which Englishmen will feel, when this deed is known.

"Cowards; base, infamous cowards!"

Charlie stepped back to go.

"Seize him!" Mr. Drake said, himself rushing forward.

Charlie drew back a step; and then, with all his strength, smote the governor between the eyes, and he fell in a heap beneath the table. Then Charlie grasped a decanter.

"Now," he said, "if either of you hounds move a finger, I'll brain you."

The two officers stood paralysed. Charlie walked to the door, and sprang up the cabin stairs; and, as he did so, heard shouts for assistance from behind. He gained the deck, walked quietly to the bulwark and, placing his hand upon it, sprang over the side into the river. He swam to shore and, climbing up the bank, made his way along it back to the fort, where he arrived without any misadventure.

A fury of indignation seized all in the fort, when the result of Charlie's mission became known. With daybreak the attack recommenced; but the garrison, all day, bravely repulsed every attempt of the enemy to gain a footing. The fire from the houses was, however, so severe, that by nightfall nearly half the garrison were killed or wounded.

All day the signals to the fleet were kept flying, but not a ship moved. All night, an anxious watch was kept, in hopes that, at the last moment, some returning feeling of shame might induce the recreants to send up the boats of the ships. But the night passed without a movement on the river, and in the morning the fleet were seen, still lying at anchor.

The enemy recommenced the attack, even more vigorously than before. The men fell fast and, to Charlie's great grief, his friend Mr. Haines was shot by a bullet, as he was standing next to him. Charlie anxiously knelt beside him.

"It is all over with me," he murmured. "Poor little Ada. Do all you can for her, Marryat. God knows what fate is in store for her."

"I will protect her with my life, sir," Charlie said earnestly.

Mr. Haines pressed his hand feebly, in token of gratitude; and, two or three minutes later, breathed his last.

By midday, the loss had been so heavy that the men would no longer stand to their guns. Many of the European soldiers broke open the spirit stores, and soon drank to intoxication.

After a consultation with his officers, Mr. Holwell agreed that further resistance was hopeless. The flag of truce was therefore hoisted, and one of the officers at once started for the nabob's camp, with instructions to make the best terms he could for the garrison. When the gates were opened the enemy, seizing the opportunity, rushed in in great numbers; and as resistance was impossible, the garrison laid down their arms.

Charlie at once hurried to the spot where Ada, and the only other European lady who had not escaped, were anxiously awaiting news. Both were exhausted with weeping.

"Where is papa, Captain Marryat?" Ada asked.

Charlie knew that the poor girl would need all her strength, for what she might have to undergo; and at once resolved that, for the present at least, it would be better that she should be in ignorance of the fate of her father. He therefore said that, for the present, Mr. Haines was unable to come, and had asked him to look after her.

It was not until five o'clock that the nabob entered the fort. He was furious at hearing that only five lacs of rupees had been found in the treasury, as he had expected to become possessed of a vastly larger sum. Kissendas, the first cause of the present calamities, was brought before him; but the capricious tyrant, contrary to expectation, received him courteously, and told him he might return to Dacca. The whole of the Eurasians, or half castes, and natives found in the fort were also allowed to return to their homes.

Mr. Holwell was then sent for, and after the nabob had expressed his resentment at the small amount found in the treasury, he was dismissed, the nabob assuring him of his protection. Mr. Holwell returned to his English companions, who, one hundred and forty-six in number, including the two ladies, were drawn up under the veranda in front of the prison. The nabob then returned to his camp.

Some native officers went in search of some building where the prisoners could be confined, but every room in the fort had already been taken possession of, by the nabob's soldiers and officers. At eight o'clock, they returned with the news that they could find no place vacant, and the officer in command at once ordered the prisoners into a small room, used as a guardroom for insubordinate soldiers, eighteen feet square.

In vain they protested that it was impossible the room could contain them, in vain implored the officer to allow some of them to be confined in an adjoining cell. The wretch was deaf to their entreaties. He ordered his soldiers to charge the prisoners, and these, with blows of the butt ends of the muskets, and prods of the bayonets, were driven into the narrow cell.

Tim Kelly had kept close to his master, during the preceding days. The whole of the four native officers, who had so distinguished themselves under Charlie, were killed during the siege. Hossein, who would fain have shared his master's fortunes, was forcibly torn from him, when the English prisoners were separated from the natives.

The day had been unusually hot. The night was close and sultry, and the arched veranda, outside, further hindered the circulation of the air. This was still heavy with the fumes of powder, creating an intolerable thirst. Scarcely were the prisoners driven into their narrow cell where, even standing wedged closely together, there was barely room for them, than cries for water were raised.

"Tim, my boy," Charlie said to his companion, "we may say goodbye to each other now, for I doubt if one will be alive, when the door is opened in the morning."

On entering Charlie, always keeping Ada Haines by his side, had taken his place against the wall farthest from the window, which was closed with iron bars.

"I think, yer honor," Tim said, "that if we could get nearer to the window, we might breathe a little more easily."

"Ay, Tim; but there will be a fight for life round that window, before long. You and I might hold our own, if we could get there, though it would be no easy matter where all are struggling for life; but this poor little girl would be crushed to death. Besides, I believe that what chance there is, faint as it may be, is greater for us here than there. The rush towards the window, which is beginning already, as you see, will grow greater and greater; and the more men struggle and strive, the more air they require.

"Let us remain where we are. Strip off your coat and waistcoat, and breathe as quietly and easily as you can. Every hour the crowd will thin, and we may yet hold on till morning."

This conversation had been held in a low voice. Charlie then turned to the girl.

"How are you feeling, Ada?" he asked cheerfully. "It's hot, isn't it!"

"It is dreadful," the girl panted, "and I seem choking from want of air; and oh, Captain Marryat, I am so thirsty!"

"It is hot, my dear, terribly hot, but we must make the best of it; and I hope, in a few days, you will join your mamma on board ship. That will be pleasant, won't it?"

"Where is papa?" the girl wailed.

"I don't know where he is now, my child. At any rate, we must feel very glad that he's not shut up here, with us. Now take your bonnet off, and your shawl, and undo the hooks of your dress, and loosen everything you can. We must be as quiet and cheerful as possible. I'm afraid, Ada, we have a bad time before us tonight. But try to keep cheerful and quiet; and above all, dear, pray God to give you strength to carry you through it, and to restore you safe to your mamma, in a few days."

As time went on, the scene in the dungeon became terrible. Shouts, oaths, cries of all kinds, rose in the air. Round the window men fought like wild beasts, tearing each other down, or clinging to the bars for dear life, for a breath of the air without. Panting, struggling, crying, men sank exhausted upon the floor, and the last remnants of life were trodden out of them, by those who surged forward to get near the window.

In vain, Mr. Holwell implored them to keep quiet, for their own sakes. His voice was lost in the terrible din. Men, a few hours ago rich and respected merchants, now fought like maddened beasts for a breath of fresh air. In vain, those at the window screamed to the guards without, imploring them to bring water. Their prayers and entreaties were replied to only with brutal scoffs.

Several times Charlie and Tim, standing together against the wall behind, where there was now room to move, lifted Ada between them, and sat her on their shoulders in order that, raised above the crowd, she might breathe more freely. Each time, after sitting there for a while, the poor girl begged to come down again; the sight of the terrible struggle, ever going on at the window, being too much for her; and when released, leaning against Charlie, supported by his arm, with her head against his shoulder, and her hands over her ears to shut out the dreadful sounds which filled the cell.

Hour passed after hour. There was more room now, for already half the inmates of the place had succumbed. The noises, too, had lessened, for no longer could the parched lips and throats utter articulate sounds. Charlie and Tim, strong men as they were, leaned utterly exhausted against the wall, bathed in perspiration, gasping for air.

"Half the night must be gone, Tim," Charlie said, "and I think, with God's help, we shall live through it. The numbers are lessening fast, and every one who goes leaves more air for the rest of us.

"Cheer up, Ada dear, 'twill not be very long till morning."

"I think I shall die soon," the girl gasped. "I shall never see papa or mamma again. You have been very kind, Captain Marryat, but it is no use."

"Oh, but it is of use," Charlie said cheerfully. "I don't mean to let you die at all, but to hand you over to mamma, safe and sound. There, lay your head against me, dear, and say your prayers, and try and go off to sleep."

Presently, however, Ada's figure drooped more and more, until her whole weight leaned upon Charlie's arm.

"She has fainted, Tim," he said. "Help me to raise her well in my arms, and lay her head on my shoulder. That's right. Now, you'll find her shawl somewhere under my feet; hold it up, and make a fan of it. Now, try to send some air into her face."

By this time, not more than fifty out of the hundred and forty-six who entered the cell were alive. Suddenly a scream of joy, from those near the window, proclaimed that a native was approaching with some water. The struggle at the window was fiercer than ever. The bowl was too wide to pass through the bars, and the water was being spilt in vain; each man who strove to get his face far enough through to touch the bowl being torn back, by his eager comrades behind.

"Tim," Charlie said, "you are now much stronger than most of them. They are faint from the struggles. Make a charge to the window. Take that little shawl and dip it into the bowl, or whatever they have there, and then fight your way back with it."

"I will do it, yer honor," said Tim, and he rushed into the struggling group.

Weak as he was from exhaustion and thirst, he was as a giant to most of the poor wretches, who had been struggling and crying