A Tale of the Indian Mutiny.

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 12, 26 January 1870, Page 2

A Tale of the Indian Mutiny.

( Cuasdl'g Mivjaz'tne.) SilottE than once there was a stifled sob or half-uttered cry, choked back by hand or handkerchief; but all present knew well tf.he necessity for ntter silence, as now (plainly heard overhead came the trampling of feet and the loud talking of a large I foody of men, amongst whom I could yplrtinly distinguish Lardy, whose voice was harsh and peculiar. What was being said I could not tell, but with my mind full of suspicious thoughts, 1 stood there at the entrance well armed, feeling that those would be brave men who wqxdd dare to attack me in the dark place, where it would be only ■over the bodies of several of their party that the mutineers would arrive at their ; prey. Then my arm would sink almost 'unnerved by my side, as I could plainly -distinguish in that utter-darkness how first •one and then another of the women was sobbing hysterically, while the more strongnjcrved tried to hush and comfort, and, to I extent, smother the cries. J At times it seemed impossible that we j <could avoid being heard, for at one time 'there were footsteps passing and re-passing •above our heads, the boards cracking be- j sieuth the weight-; and the voices of those ! •engaged in plundering the various rooms »eould be plainly heard shouting to one ainother'a&they tore out something which pleased their fancy. Time went on, and though more than ;onee my heart had .'leaped .as I fancied I 3ieard steps in the adjoining cellar, we were «s yet undiscovered. More than once there was quite a quarrel over our heads, and shots were fired. Then there was the sheavy fall of a body, and from the lips of •our elder sister guite a .loud -.ejaculation of >dread escaped, sending a shudder through -me as 1 listened and waited for some movement following the cry, which must have been heard. Again came a noisy dispute, and Lard v's voice loud above the others, when they seemed to follow him out into the -fcack .part of the house, and we crouched there •waiting to learn our fate. 1 thought at.first that the slain man whose fall we had heard might be our servant, but his voice undeceived me directly • and could we have felt confidence in his truth, we should not have been quite wif h•out hope of escape.

But where were the rebels now? and ■what could they be doing 1 Judging aa well as I could, it seemed they had followed Lardy out to see something. Perhaps he was going to set them oft" upon a false trail. My plan was undoubtedly good to make them believe we had departed in haste, but it did not seem likely that they would leave the station without well searching the place ; and though I had fancied 1 had heard steps in the passage leading ■down into the cellars, I could not he sureButt there was no longer any room for doubt. I had not heard steps before, but now they were coining plainly enough—a rush of fiends headed by Lardy, whom T heard plainly enough directing the bloodthirsty wretches.

" This way, this way," 1 heard him exclaim ; and with a curse upon his treacherous head, and another upon my own folly in trusting him, I pressed those under my charge back into the furthest angle of the cellar, and strode forward to the entrance, r< ady to fight to the last, for I told myself I could do no more : heaven must befriend the helpless when I fell.

But, in spite of the frailty of the brickedup door, mine was a strong citadel, and, always allowing that they did not call in the aid of fire, I did not epiite despair of beating back my foes, for I had a good supply of ammunition, a rifle, a double gun, and a couple of revolvers, all ready loaded, and, well sheltered myself, I felt sure of doing terrible mischief to the crowds of miscreants now hurrying down.

" If the first bullet would only strike down tlu't treacherous wretch," I thought, as I cockeil my pieces, laying them ready to hand, and thou stood awaiting the result. I was some paces baek in the cellar, so as to be clear of the falling bricks, which I momentarily expected to hear crumble down, and with strained eyes trying to pierce the black darkness, I tried to make out the outlines of the brickwork. The voices seemed painfully near, and once 1 whs nearly pulling the trigger, and firing through the opening I expected to see crowded with dusky faces ; but no bricks K, and my pent-up breath was allowed |(BSS "ut almost like a groat), as the Utilig <>f tlii- i -11 in the cellar n.ts ps-

plained by the loud clinking of bottles, and the hurrying to and fro of feet. Lardy, then, was true, and this then was a ruse—a bold one, but not likely to prove unsuccessful,' for, by leading the sepoys down into the cellar, all suspicion would be disarmed, and at the cost only of my brother's poor lifcclo stock of wine. I even ventured upon a reassuring whis-1 per to the trembling women, although the voices sounded so plainly through the illlilting brickwork that it was terrible to have almost certain death so near. Now there came the sound of contention—there was a scuffle and a blow against the brickwork that made some of the wet mortar fall inside with a wet " pat." Then came curses in liindostanee, and the smashing of bottles, and all sounding as if within the cellar where I stood trembling—l am not ashamed to own it—trembling horribly, my hands shaking so that they could hardly steady the pistols ; but my heart was firm, and I was ready to hold that narrow way till some bullet or bayonet laid me low.

1 was hopeful that if it came to a struggle I might beat the enemy off for a time, so as to be able to re-charge my weapons ; for there, in utter darkness, where we hid, it would have been useless to expect the women to load pistol or gun : and, after all, with fifteen barrels to discharge, I had not so bad a reception for our cruel foes.

But the noise had ceased in the next cellar; voices were there, but without contention, and it was evident that the sepoys were collecting in the room overhead for the purpose of having a carouse. And now it was that I had to give a vhispered warning or two to my charge, who seemed as if under the impression that the danger was past, although only averted for a time, since a careful seai'cb. of the place must certainly discover ' our whereabouts. I could hear plainly whispers and replies, and then it was that not merely the icy sweat of horror broke out upon me, but there came a strange lifting sensation amongst the roots of my hair, as one, till now almost forgotten, could be heard beginning in faint, smothered, querulous tones trying to assert its presence, and in the dread of the moment I let one of my pistols fall amongst the sawdust at my feet.

What was to be done 1 Six lives, besides its own little spark, depending whollv upon its voice ; but one sharp, unchecked cry, and the bloodthirsty pack would be upon us with all the horrors they had perpetrated in so many peaceful homes. What was to be done ? The question seemed to be hissing in my ears, and the hell-inspired answer bounded into my heart. What was its life that it was to he of more value than the honour and lives of five women? And my life was nothing then, but I seemed to be called upon to act as judge, give judgment, nay, to act as executioner. Who were to live? were they—the five women mutely appealing to me for protection—or that tiny one, whose span of life was but a month in length, and would, I knew from dread experience, be but some few minutes longer if the butchers came upon us ? Its mother, I

could heai-, was trying all she could, and those around her were piling blankets, bedding, everything they could catch.up, upon her head, suffocating her almost, but in vain ; for still came the faint, querulous cry, increasing momentarily in power, while still hissed in my ears came the question, u What must be done ?"

If I could have died then, if insensibility would have come upon me, or if I could have plunged into the excitement of a fight, I could have borne it; but to crouch there, with the voices of a fierce horde of wretches famous for their cruelty close at hand, five helpless women, almost girls, in my charge, and that infant's cry struggling almost fiercely to be heard, it was horrible ; and in the whirl of dread thoughts that came upon me, I wonder that I did not lose my reason. Louder, louder, loudei-, I could hear.the little voice rising, half stifled from beneath the coverings, and every effort made by its mother seemed to make the cries more shrill. I could not bear it; the thought was awful, unnatural, cruel to a degree; but reason seemed to say, "Are a few minutes of that frail life to be balanced against the honour and lives of five helpless women ?"

I was blind and mad with horror, us, thrusting my revolvers aside, 1 crept hastily towards the spot from whence the inulHed cries arose, when, as J fiercely laid my hand upon the woollen coverlet, J felt it grasped, and another hand thrust me baek, jtis't tut a lotuLw.til arose ;*nud thou Ibfir Was an awful mlcivi-, >h if that wail

had been suddenly checked. I could hear a faint struggling, a gasp or two, and then, as the noise grew more boisterous overhead, I crawled back to where I had laid my pistols, cold, palsied, unnerved, and stooped crouching to the earth, with one hand to my wet forehead, to feel if the cursed mark that branded the brow of Cain was not already there. Time passed on with a dread an:l awful silence iu that dark, suffocating vault; but it might have been hours, days, or years— I could not tell. Voices could be heard above, but they seemed nothing to me; my ears seemed to be filled with that one muffled wail, and again and again I seemed to hear it checked suddenly, and all to become silent as the grave. To me the vault seemed now peopled with horrors, its black darkness rife with moving figures; incipient madness had me in its clutches, and I would have given my life a dozen times over to have heard that infant cry again. Murderer? No; 1 was no murderer. 1 had not touched the tiny throat; but whose, then, had been the cruel hand to stifle its cries? Had my fiend-begotten j thought inspired its mother's heart % It ! was awful, dread, maddening; and I groj veiled there upon the ground in my anI guish. Voices whispered to me, hands I were laid upon mine, upon my face, but in j vain. I believe that I did not even give : a sign that I was aware of there being anyone present till hours after, when sudj denly there was a.shout in the outer cellar, j the wall was kicked down, and Lardy—j poor, faithful, old Lardy—forced his way ■ in, crying, laughing, hugging first one and j then another, as he dragged at us to get us j out of the living tomb where we had lain. | I followed the poor fellow mechanically, ; and staggered about like a drunken man ! as I reached the light, leaning heavily upon ! the arms that then supported me up the I stairs, and into the hall, where I fell into : a chair, and buried my face in my hands. | The next moment the women were on I their knees by my side, kissing my hands, | whispering their thanks, while I—l shrank J from them, till, maddened almost with the j thoughts within my breast, I started up j and was hurrying away, when, gazing I wildly at my brother's wife, a swimming j came over my brain, and I fell heavily

upon the floor. " I thought I should have died, Charley," my sister whispered, as, completely unnerved, I lay upon the tattered sofa in our ruined room ; " but God must have heard my cry for help in our sore distress, and the little tiling stopped as if by ,a miracle, sleeping afterwards for what musthave been hours, as peacefully and cannly as if the angels watched its slumbers—sleeping till those wretches were gone, and pool old Lardy came shouting down that we were safe, and had nothing to fear." I made an effort and rose, but tottered in my steps as I followed old Lardy out into the yard behind the house, for he said he had something to show me, and I was too grateful to him not to follow. " So you made them believe that we had gone, Lardy?" I said, faintly. " Villains! no, Sahib. Drink all de wine, take de plate, smash a looking-glass, do ebbery mischief, but wouldn't believe you all gone, Sahib." "Then how did you get them away V T said.

" Say I killed you all, like good 'Horametan," said Lardy, proudly ; and, loading me to the well, he uncovered it to show me—ghastly sight!—live bodies lying at the bottom, half covered by the water, while one, evidently jusi east down, hung half-way across a beam, which stretched from side to side of the well. " Pitch him down just now, Sahib," explained Lardy. " Rhngee Kee shoot um 'cause get too much share silver spoon."" " But who are those others V I asked. " Dem poor Doctor Richard, wife, and two servants. I fetch across and put 'em down there, take four night; and when mutineer come, I show 'em, and say I killed you all, and dey say T good fellow, and rajah, and dance round me. And flat why no let you drink a water." We had no further visit from the mutineers, and before I left the station there was a neat stone erected over the ulled-in well to the memory of our poor murdered neighbours ; but though the sisters married happily and settled in Delhi, I never felt at rest till once more at home in the old country. And as I gaze upon the stuuly Eton boy sent over to be educated under his uncle's eye, the thoughts come back of that awful tin/o in the but for