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

I suppose it was through being weak, and having passed through a feverish state, which made me dream to such a tremendous extent, with everything so real and vivid that it was horrible. It comes natural to a man to dread snakes. It is as part of his education, and the dread was upon me terribly that night.

For I was pursued by them in all kinds of grotesque shapes: now they were all sowars in white, but with serpents’ heads, galloping down upon me in a mad charge; now they were slimy monsters, creeping round my tent, trying to crawl in and murder me because the rajah had taken me under his protection. Then Ny Deen himself came to me, all glittering with gold and gems, but in a confused way. He did not seem to be any longer a man, for his face looked serpent-like and treacherous, and one moment there were glittering jewels, the next it was the light shimmering upon his brilliant scales.

And so on for the rest of the night, till I dreamed that the serpent slain by the attendant had revived, and crept back through the hole between the two portions of the canvas, after heaving off the earth and sand in which it had been buried. And then it came gliding and writhing its way over the carpet, nearer and nearer to where I lay, not with the graceful, gliding motion of an ordinary serpent, but clumsily, with its neck broken and a portion of its tail bent almost at right angles. But, all the same, as I lay there, it came on nearer and nearer, till it was close to my couch in the full light of the lamp, and then, to my horror, it raised itself up, bent its broken neck over me, and glared down with its horrible eyes threatening to strike.

I awoke then, and it was quite time, for the agony was greater than I seemed to be able to bear. And there was the bright glow of light, and the eyes gazing down into mine, not with the malignant glare of a serpent, but in a pleasant, friendly way.

It was morning, and on one side the tent wall had been lifted, so that the place was flooded with the clear, soft, early sunshine, and the place was sweet with the fresh, cool air which came with the dawn even in that hot land.

It was my attendant bending over me, and he said quietly—

“My lord was restless, and sleeping ill. The tent was hot, and the great drops were on his face, so I opened the side to let in the light.”

He ceased speaking, and I uttered a sigh of relief as all the feverish vision of the night passed away, the sensation of rest and comfort growing stronger as he clapped his hands, and the other men came in bearing a large brass basin full of cool fresh water, with which my face was bathed with all the care and solicitude that would have been shown by a woman.

Then followed my medicine, and, soon after, coffee and sweet cakes, preparatory to a real breakfast later on, to which I found that I could pay greater attention, eating so that the man smiled with satisfaction.

“My lord is getting well,” he said. And I gave my head a feeble nod.

“Tell me whereabouts we are,” I said at last.

He shook his head. “I am only to tell you that you are in my lord the rajah’s care,” he replied.

“Well, I can guess,” I replied. “I can hear nothing of people; there is no town near; and I know from the noises made by birds and beasts, and by the coming of those serpents, that we must be in the forest. I am at some hunting-station, I suppose. Look here,” I continued, as the man remained silent, “tell me where the English soldiers are.”

“I cannot, my lord. I do not know,” he replied.

“It is of no use to ask you anything,” I cried pettishly. “Yes, it is; you can tell me this—what is your name?”

“Salaman, my lord,” he replied, with a smile.

“Humph!” I said sourly, for I was getting into an invalid’s tetchy, weary state. “Salaman! why couldn’t they call you Solomon? That’s the proper way to pronounce it.”

“My lord can call me Solomon,” he said quietly.

“Of course I can,” I said, “and I will. Then look here, Solomon, did you bury that great snake?”

“Yes, my lord, as soon as it was light, and the others found and killed its mate. They are now dead, and covered with the earth.”

“That’s right. No fear of their getting out?” I added, as I remembered my dream.

He laughed and shook his head.

“Tell me this too; the rajah, will he be here to-day?”

“Who can say, my lord? His highness is master, and he goes and comes as he pleases. Perhaps he will come, perhaps he will not. I never know.”

“The doctor, then; will he be here?”

“Oh yes, my lord, and soon.”

He left the tent, and I lay thinking again, ready to quarrel with everything, for my arm pained me, and my head felt stiff and sore.

“I wish he’d speak in a plain, matter-of-fact way,” I grumbled to myself. “I’m sick of being ‘my lorded’ and bowed down to. I always feel as if I could kick a fellow over when he bows down to me as if I were one of their precious idols.”

Then I laughed to myself long and heartily, for I knew that I must be getting better by my irritable ways. And now I forced myself into thinking about our position as English rulers of the land, and wondered whether it would be possible for our power to be overthrown. Then came on a feverish desire to know where Brace was, and in what kind of condition his men were, and those of the colonel.

“It seems hard that they do not come and try to rescue me,” I thought. “Brace would come fast enough,” I added spitefully, “if I were a gun.”

This idea seemed so comic in its disagreeable tone, and so thoroughly due to my state of weakness and unreason, that I laughed silently.

“How precious ill-tempered I am!” I said to myself.

A moment later I was wondering about the fate of those dear to me at Nussoor—whether my father was still there, and whether there had been any rising in his neighbourhood.

Directly after I came to the conclusion that his regiment would certainly have been called away, and I hoped that he had made arrangements for my mother and sister to go back to England; and then I was marvelling at the rapid way in which my thoughts ran excitedly from one subject to the other.

“It is all through being so weak, I suppose,” I said to myself; and then I began eagerly to listen, for I could hear trampling.

Feeling certain that it was the rajah, and making up my mind to speak quietly to him, and ask him to try and exchange me for some other prisoner, I lay with my eyes fixed upon the open side of the tent, to see directly after the tall, stately figure of the grey-bearded physician, who came to my side in his customary sedate fashion, and knelt down to examine and dress my injuries, which he declared to be in a perfectly satisfactory state. But, all the same, they pained me a great deal during the time he was unbandaging and covering them afresh.

I plied him with questions all the time—as to how long it would be before I was well; how soon I might sit up; how soon I might go out in a palanquin, and the like; all of which he answered in the same grave way, but when I turned the question to the state of the country, and asked for information about our troop, and the late battle, he shook his head and smiled gravely.

“I am the rajah’s physician,” he said, “and my duties are with the sick. I can tell you no more.”

“But tell me this,” I said eagerly; “where are our people now?”

“I only know about my own people,” he replied, with a smile. “You are one of them, and you are troubling your brain about matters that you cannot deal with now, so be at rest.”

I made an impatient gesture, and he laid his hand upon my brow, saying gently—

“Be at rest. You will learn all these things in time. You have but one duty now—to get well.”

There was only one other resource left to me—to get an answer somehow from the rajah when he came; and upon the doctor leaving, I lay there impatiently listening for the visitor who would, I was sure, come before long, though whether I should get my information appeared doubtful indeed.