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ALFRED VINES,
+1AXELus PioTEL,
STRAND,
LONDON.
1910.








Bathurst succeeded in carrying him off.
Frontisp'iece.
‘-
-_-u-l411


.-. .am-a' -


RUJUB, "[HE J UGGLER
BY
G. A. H E N T Y
AUTHOR OF "THE CURSE OF CARNE'S noun," "A HIDDEN FOE,” ETC.


A NEW EDITION
WITH EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY STANLEY L. WOOD
innbun
CHATTO & WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1893





ILLU STRATIONS
BATHURST SUCCEEDED IN CARRYING HIM OFF . .
IIATHURST BROUGHT DOW'N THE HEAVY LASH OF HIS
WHIP \VITH ALL HIS FORCE . . .
SEILA A LENGTH AHEAD . . o . - .
IIE \VAS RIDING AT FULL SPEED FOR THE COURT-
HOUSE . . . . . . . . .
FIRING VENGEFULLY \VHENEVER HE CAUGHT SIGHT
OF A LURKING NATIVE . . . . . .
THE DOCTOR AND FARQUIIARSON KEPT UP AN ALMOST
CONTINUOUS FIRE . . . . . . .
SHE AND HER COMPANIONS CROUCHED TOGETHER .
RUSHING FORWARD, SHE THREW HER ARMS ROUND
HIS NECK . . . . . . . .


Fronlz'spz'eae
T 0 face page I I
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170
182





RUJUB, THE JUGGLER.
CHAPTER I.
IT would be diflicult to find a. fairer scene. Throughout the
gardens lanterns of many shapes and devices threw their
light down upon the paths, which were marked out by lines
of little lamps suspended on wires a foot above the ground.
In a treble row they encircled a large tank or pond and
studded a little island in its centre. Along the terraces were
festoons and arches of innumerable lamps, while behind was
the Palace or Castle, for it was called either; the Oriental
doors and windows and the tracery of its walls lit up below
by the soft light, while the outline of the upper part could
scarce be made out. Eastern as the scene was, the actors
were for the most part English. Although the crowd that
promenaded the terrace was composed principally of men, of
whom the majority were in uniform of one sort or another, the
rest in evening dress, there were many ladies among them.
At the end of one of the terraces a band of the Io3rd
Bengal Infantry was playing, and when they ceased, a band
of native musicians, at the opposite end of the terrace, took
up the strains. \Vithin, the palace was brilliantly lighted,
and at the tables in one of the large apartments, a few
couples were still seated at supper. Among his guests moved
the Rajah, chatting in fluent English, laughing with the
men, paying compliments to the ladies, a thoroughly good
fellow all round, as his guests agreed. The affair had been
a great success. There had first been a banquet to the
officers and civilians at the neighbouring station. WVhen
this was over, the ladies began to arrive, and for their amuse-
ment there had been a native nautch upon a grand scale,
followed by a fine display of fireworks, and then by supper,
at Which the Rajah had made a speech expressive of his deep
A


z R0703, THE YUGGLER.
admiration and affection for the British. This he had followed
up by proposing the health of the ladies in flowery terms.
Never was there a better fellow than the Rajah. He had
English_tastes, and often dined at one or other of the oflicers’
messes. He was a good shot, and could fairly hold his own
at billiards. He had firstrate English horses in his stables,
and his turn-out was perfect in all respects. He kept a few
horses for the races, and was present at every ball and enter-
tainment. At Bithoor he kept almost open house. There
was a billiard-room and racquetcourts, and once or twice a
week there were luncheon parties, at which from twelve to
twenty officers were generally present. In all India there
was no Rajah with more pronounced English tastes or
greater affection for English people. The one regret of his
life, he often declared, was that his colour and his religion
prevented his entertaining the hope of obtaining an English
wife. All this, as every one said, was the more remarkable
and praisew'orthy, inasmuch as he had good grounds of com-
laint against the British Government.
With the ladies he was an especial favourite; he was
always ready to show them courtesy. His carriages were
at their service. He was reafiy to give his aid and assistance
to every gathering. His private band played frequently
on the promenade, and handsome presents of shawls and
jewellery were often made to those whom he held in highest
favour. At present he was talking to General Wheeler and
some other officers.
“I warn you that I mean to Win the cup at the races,”
he said; “ I have just bought the horse that swept the board
on the Bombay side; I have set my heart on winning the cup,
and so secured this horse. I am ready to back it if any of
you gentlemen are disposed to wager against it.”
“All in good time, Rajah,” one of the officers laughed;
“we don’t know what will be entered against it yet, and we
must wait to see what the betting is, but I doubt whether
we have anything that will beat the Bombay crack on this
side ; I fancy you will have to lay odds on.”
“We shall see," the Rajah said; “I have always been
unlucky, but I mean to win this time.”
“ I don’t think you take your losses much to heart, Rajah,”
General \Vheeler said ; “yet there is no doubt that your bets
are generally somewhat rash ones.”
‘I mean to make a coup this time. That is your word for a


RU] UB, THE j'UGGLER. 3
big thing, I think. The Government has treated me so badly I
must try to take something out of the poekets of its officers.”
“You do pretty well still,” the General laughed; “after
this splendid entertainment you have given us thisevening,
you can hardly call yourself a poor man.”
“I know I am rich. I have enough for my little pleasures
—I do not know that I could wish for more—still no one is
ever quite content.”
By this time the party was breaking up, and for the next
half hour the Rajah was occupied in bidding good-bye to his
guests. \Vhen the last had gone, he turned and entered the
palace, passed through the great halls, and pushing aside a ,
curtain, entered a small room. The walls and the columns
were of white marble, inlaid with arabesque work of coloured
stones. Four golden lamps hung from the ceiling, the floor was -
covered with costly carpets, and at one end ran a raised plat-
form a foot in height, piled with soft cushions. He took a
turn or two up and down the room, and then struck a silver
bell. An attendant entered. “Send Khoosheal and Imambux
here.” Two minutes later the men entered. Imambux com-
manded the Rajah’s troops, whil\Khoosheal was the master of
his household. _
“All has gone oflf well,” the Rajah said; “I am pleased
with you, Khoosheal. One more at most and we shall have
done with them. Little do they think what their good friend
Nana Sahib is preparing for them. \'hat a poor-spirited
creature they think me to kiss the hand that robbed me, to
be friends with those who have deprived me of my rights.
But the day of reckoning is not far off, and then woe to them
all! Have any of your messengers returned, 111121111qu '2 "
“Several have come in this evening, my lord; would you
see them now, or wait till morning 'l ”
“I will see them now; I will get the memory of these
chattering men and these women with their bare shoulders
out of my mind. Send the men in one by one. I have no
further occasion for you tonight ; two are better than three
when men talk of matters upon which an empire depends.”
The two officers bowed and retired, and shortly afterwards
the attendant drew back the curtain again, and a native, in
the rags of a mendicant, entered, and bowed till his forehead
touched the carpet. Then he remained kneeling, with his
arms crossed over his chest, and his head inclined in the
attitude of the deepest humility.


4 R0702, THE jUGGLER.
“Where have you been 1 ” the Rajah asked.
“My lord’s slave has been for three weeks at Meerut. I
have obeyed orders. I have distributed chupaties among the
native regiments, with the words, ‘ \Vatch, the time is coming,’
and have then gone before I could be questioned. Then, in
another disguise, I have gone through the bazaar, and said in
talk with many that the Sepoys were unclean and outcast, for
that they had bitten cartridges anointed with pig’s fat, and
that the Government had purposely greased the cartridges
with this fat in order that the caste of all the Sepoys should
be destroyed. When I had set men talking about this I left;
it will be sure to come to the Sepoys’ ears.”
The Rajah nodded—“ Come again to-morrow at noon ; you
will have your reward then and further orders; but see that
you keep silence; a single word, and though you bid in the
farthest corner of India you would not escape my vengeance.”
Man after man entered. Some of them, like the first, were
in mendicant’s attire, one or two were fakirs, one looked like
a well-to-do merchant. With the exception of the last, all
had a. similar tale to tell; they had been visiting the various
cantonments of the native army, everywhere distributing
chupaties and whispering tales of the intention of the Govern-
ment to destroy the caste of the Sepoys by greasing the car-
tridges with pig’s fat. The man dressed like a trader was the
last to enter.
“ How goes it, Mukdoomee 'l ”
“It is well, my lord; I have traversed all the districts
where we dwelt of old, before the Feringhee stamped us out
and sent scores to death and hundreds to prison. Most of
the latter whom death has spared are free now, and with
many of them have I talked. They are most of them old,
and few would take the road again, but scarce one but has
trained up his son or grandson to the work ,' not to practise
it—the hand of the whites was too heavy before, and the
gains are not large enough to tempt men to run the risk—
but they teach them for the love of the art. To a worshipper
of the goddess, there is a joy in a cleverly contrived plan and
in casting the roomal round the neck of the victim, that can
never die. Often in my young days, when perhaps twelve of
us were on the road in a party, we made less than we could
have done by labour, but none minded.
“ \Ve were sworn brothers, we were working for Kali, and
so that we sent her victims we cared little; and even after


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 5

fifteen or twenty years spent in the Feringhee’s prisons, we
love it still; none hate the white man as we do; has he not
destroyed our profession? We have two things to weik for;
first, for vengeance; second, for the certainty that if the
white man’s Raj were at an end, once again would the brother-
hood follow their profession, and reap booty for ourselves and
victims for Kali; for, assuredly, no native prince would dare
to meddle with us. Therefore, upon every man who was once
a Thug, and upon his sons and grandsons, you may depend.
I do not say that they would be useful for fighting, for we
have never been fighters, but the stranglers will be of use.
You can trust them with misdons, and send them where you
choose. From their fathers’ lips they have learnt all about
places and roads; they can decoy Feringhee travellers, the
Company’s servants or soldiers, into quiet places, and slay
them. They can creep into compounds and into houses, and
choose their victims from the sleepers. You can trust them,
Rajah, for they have learned to hate, and each in his way
will, when the time comes, aid to stir up men to rise. The
past had almost become a dream, but I have roused it into
life again, and upon the descendants of the stranglers through-
out India you can count surely.” .
“You have not mentioned my name?” the Rajah said
suddenly, looking closely at the man as he put the question.
“Assuredly not, your highness; I have simply said deliver-
ance is at hand; the hour foretold for the end of the Raj of
the men from beyond the sea will soon strike, and they will
disappear from the land like fallen leaves; then will the glory
of Kali return, then again will the brotherhood take to the
road and gather in victims. I can promise that every one of
those whose fathers or grandfathers or other kin died by the
hand of the Feringhee, or sufiered in his prisons, will do his
share of the good work, and be ready to obey to the death the
orders which will reach him.”
“ It is good,” the Rajah said; “you and your brethren will
have a rich harvest of victims, and the sacred cord need never
be idle. Go; it is well nigh morning, and I would sleep.”
But not for some time did the Rajah close his eyes; his
brain was busy with the schemes which he had long been
maturing, but was only now beginning to put into action.
“It must succeed,” he said to himself; “all through India
the people will take up arms when the Sepoys give the
signal by rising against their ofiicers. The whites are wholly


6 RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER.
’unsuspicious; they even believe that I, I whom they have
robbed, am their friend. Fools! I hold them in the hollow
of my hand; they shall trust me to the last, and then I will
crush them. Not one shall escape me. \Vould I were as
certain of all the other stations in India as I am of this.
Oude, I know, will rise as one man; the Princes of Delhi I
have sounded; they will be the leaders, though the old King
will be the nominal head; but I shall pull the strings, and
as Peishwa, shall be an independent sovereign, and next in
dignity to the Emperor. Only nothing must be done until
all is ready; not a movement must be made until I feel sure
that every native regiment from Calcutta to the North is
ready to rise.”
And so, until the day had fully broken, the Rajah of
Bithoor thought over his plans—the man who had a few
hours before so sumptuously entertained the military and
civilians of Cawnpore, and the man who was universally
regarded as the firm friend of the British, and one of the best
fellows going.
The days and weeks passed on, messengers came and went,
the storm was slowly brewing ; and yet to all men it seemed
that India was never more contented nor the outlook more
tranquil and assured.
CHAPTER II.
A YOUNG man in a suit of brown karkee, with a white
puggaree wound round his pith helmet, was just mounting in
front of his bungalow at Deennugghur, some forty miles from
Cawnpore, when two others came up.
“ \Vhich way are you going to ride, Bathurst l ”
“I am going out to Narkeet; there is a dispute between
the villagers and a Talookdar as to their limits. I have got
to look into the case. Why do you ask, Mr. Hunter 1”
“I thought that you might be going that way. You know
we have had several reports of ravages by a maneater whose
headquarters seem to be that big jungle you pass through on
your way to Narkeet. He has been payingvisits to several
villages in its neighbourhood, and has carried off two mail-
runners. I shoulcl advise you to keep a sharp look-out.”
“Yes, I have heard plenty about him; it is unfortunate we


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 7

have no one at this station who goes in for tiger-hunting.
Young Bloxam was speaking to me last night; he is very
but about it; but as he knows nothing about shooting, and
has never fired off a rifle in his life, except at the military
target, I told him that it was madness to think of it by him-
self, and that he had better ride down to the regiment at
Cawnpore, and get them to form a party to come up to hunt
the beast. I told him they need not bring elephants with
them; I could get as many as were necessary from some of
the Talookdars, and there will be no want of heaters. He
said he would write at once, but he doubted whether any of
them would be able to get away at present; the general
inspection is just coming on. However, no doubt they will be
able to do so before long.” 7
“ \Vell, if I were you I would put a pair of pistols into my
holster, Bathurst ; it would be awfully awkward if you came
across the beast.”
“I never carry firearms,” the young man said shortly;
and then more lightly, “I am a peaceful man by profession,
as you are, Mr. Hunter, and I leave firearms to those whose
profession it is to use them. I have hitherto never met ‘
with an occasion when I needed them, and am not likely
to do so. I always carry this heavy hunting-whip, which
I find useful sometimes, when the village dogs rush out and
pretend that they are going to attack me; and I fancy that
even an Oude swordsman would think twice before attacking
me when I had it in my hand. But, of course, there is no fear
about the tiger. I generally ride pretty fast; and even if he
were lying by the roadside waiting for a meal, I don’t think he
would be likely to interfere with me.” So saying, he lightly
touched the horse’s flanks with his spurs and cantered off.
“He’s a. fine young fellow, Garnet,” Mr. Hunter said to
his companion; “full of energy, and, they say, the very
best linguist in Oude."
“Yes, he is all that,” the other agreed ; “ but he is a sort
of fellow one does not quite understand. I like a man who
is like other fellows; Bathurst isn’t. He doesn’t shoot, he
doesn’t ride—I mean he don’t care for pig-sticking ; he never
goes in for any fun there may be on hand; he just works——
nothing else; he does not seem to mix with other people;
he is the sort of fellow one would say had got some sort of
secret connected with him.”
“ If he has, I am certain it is nothing to his personal


s RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
disadvantage,” Mr. Hunter said warmly. “I have known
him for the last six years—I won’t say very well, for I don’t
think any one does that, except, perhaps, Doctor \Vade.
When there was a wing of the regiment up here three years
ago, he and Bathurst took to each other very much—perhaps
because they were both different from other people. But,
anyhow, from what I know of Bathurst I believe him to be
a very fine character, though there is certainly an amount
of reserve about him altogether unusual. At any rate, the
service is a. gainer by it. I never knew a fellow work so
indefatigably. He will take a very high place in the service
before he has done.”
“I am not so sure of that,” the other said. “He is a man
with opinions of his own, and all sorts of crotchets and fads.
He has been in hot water with the Chief Commissioner more
than once. When I was over at Lucknow last, I was
chatting with two or three men, and his name happened to
crop up, and one of them said, ‘ Bathurst is a sort of knight-
errant, an official Don Quixote. Perhaps the best oflicer in
the province in some respects, but hopelessly impracticable.’ ”
“Yes, that I can quite understand, Garnet. That sort of
man is never popular with the higher ofiieial, whose likings go
to the man who does neither too much nor too little, who does
his work without questioning, and never thinks of making
suggestions, and is a mere official machine. Men of Bathurst’s
type, who go to the bottom of things,- protest against what
they consider unfair decisions, and send in memorandums
showing that their superiors are hopelessly ignorant and
idiotically wrong, are always cordially disliked. Still, they
generally work their way to the front in the long run. \Vell,
I must be 01f.” .
Bathurst rode to Narkeet without drawing rein. His
horse at times slackened its pace on its own accord, but an
almost mechanical motion from its rider’s heel soon started
it off again at the rapid pace at which its rider ordinarily
travelled. From the time he left Deennugghur to his arrival
at Narkeet no thought of the dreaded man-eater entered
Bathurst’s mind. He was deeply meditating on a memo-
randum he was about to draw up, respecting a decision that
had been arrived at in a case between a Talookdar in his
district and the Government, and in which, as it appeared to
him, a wholly erroneous and unjust view had been taken as
to the merits of the case; and he only roused himself when


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 9


the horse broke into a walk as it entered the village. Two
or three of the head men, with many bows and salutations
of respect, came out to receive him. “My lord Sahib has
seen nothing of the tiger '1 ” the head man said ; “ our hearts
were melted with fear, for the evil beast was heard roaring
in the jungle not far from the road early this morning.”
“ I never gave it a thought, one way or the other,” Bathurst
said, as he dismounted. “I fancy the horse would have let
me know if the brute had been anywhere near. See that he is
tied up in the shed, and has food and water, and put a boy
to keep the flies from worrying him. And now let us get to
business. First of all, I must go through the village records
and documents; after that I will question four or five of the
oldest inhabitants, and then we must go over the ground.
The whole question turns, you know, upon whether the
irrigation ditch mentioned in the Talookdar’s grant is the
one that runs across at the foot of the rising ground on his
side, or whether it is the one that sweeps round on this side
of the grove with the little temple in it. Unfortunately most
of the best land lies between those ditches.”
For hours Bathurst listened to the statements of the old
people of the village, cross-questioning them closely, and sparing
no efforts to sift the truth from their confused and often con-
tradictory evidence. Then he spent two hours going over the
ground and endeavouring to satisfy himself which of the two
ditches was the one .named in the village records. He had
two days before taken equal pains in sifting the evidence on
the other side.
“I trust that my lord sees there can be no doubt as to
the justice of our claim,” the head man said humbly, as he
prepared to mount again.
“According to your point of view, there is no doubt about
it, Childee ; but then there is equally no doubt the other way,
according to the statements they put forward. But that is
generally the way in all these land disputes. For good hard
swearing your Hindoo cultivator can be matched against the
world. Unfortunately there is nothing either in your grant
or in your neighbours’ that specifies unmistakably which of
these ancient ditches is the one referred to. My present im-
pression is that it is essentially a case for a compromise, but
you know the final decision does not rest on me. I shall be
out here again next week, and I shall write to the Talookdar
to meet me here, and we will go over the ground together


IO RUj‘UB, THE YUGGLER.
again, and see if we cannot arrange some line that will be fair
to both parties. If we can do that, the matter would be
settled without'expense and trouble; whereas, if it goes up
to Lucknow it may all have to be gone into again; and if the
decision is given against you, and as far as I can see it is just
as likely to be one way as another, it will be a serious thing
for the village.”
“\Ve are in my lord’s hands,” the native said ; “he is the
protector of the poor, and will do us justice.”
“ I will do you justice, Childee, but I must do justice to the
other side too. Of course, neither of you will be satisfied, but
that cannot be helped.” His perfect knowledge of their
language, the pains he took to sift all matters brought before
him to the bottom, had rendered the young oflicer very popular
among the natives. They knew they could get justice from
him direct. There was no necessity to bribe underlings: ho
had the knack of extracting the truth from the mass of lying
evidence always forthcoming in native cases; and even the
defeated party admired the manner in which the fabric of
falsehood was pulled to pieces. But the main reason of his
popularity was his sympathy, the real interest which he showed
in their cases, and the patience with which he listened to
their stories. ‘
Bathurst himself, as he rode homewards, was still think-
ing of the case. Of course there had been lying on both
sides; but to that he was accustomed. It was a question of
importance—of greater importance, no doubt, to tlielvillagers
than to their opponent, but still important to him—for this
tract of land was a. valuable one, and of considerable extent,
and there was really nothing in the documents produced
on either side to show which ditch was intended by the
original grants. Evidently, at the time they were made,
very many years before, one ditch or the other was not in
existence; but there was no proof as to which was the more
recent, although both sides professed that all traditions
handed down to them asserted the ditch on their side to be.
the more recent.
He was riding along the road through the great jungle, at
his horse’s own pace, which happened for the moment to be a.
gentle trot, when a piercing cry rang through the air a hundred
yards ahead. Bathurst started from his reverie, and spurred
his horse sharply; the animal dashed forward at a gallop.
At a. turn in the read he saw, twenty yards ahead of him,










Bathurst brought down the heavy lash of his whip with all his force,


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. n
Ari—M
a tiger, standing with a foot upon a prostrate figure, while
a man in front of it was gesticulating wildly. Tho tiger
stood as if hesitating whether to strike down the figure in
front or to content itself with that already in its power.
The wild shouts of the man had apparently drowned the
sound of the horse's feet upon the soft road, for the animal
drew back half a pace as it suddenly came into view. .
The horse swerved at the sight, and reared high in the ai
as Bathurst drove his spurs into it. As its feet touched
the ground again, Bathurst sprang off and rushed at the
tiger, and brought down the heavy lash of his whip with all
his force across its head. \Vith a fierce snarl it sprang back
two paces, but again and again the whip descended upon it,
and bewildered and amazed at the attack, it turned swiftly
and sprang through the bushes.
Bathurst, knowing that there was no fear of its returning,
turned at once to the figure on the road. It was, as in even the
momentary glance he had noticed, a woman, or rather a girl of
some fourteen or fifteen years of age—the man had dropped on
his knees beside her, moaning and uttering incoherent words.
“I see no blood,” Bathurst said, and stooping, lifted the
light figure. “Her heart beats, man; I think she has only
fainted. The tiger must have knocked her down in its spring
without striking her. So far as I can see she is unhurt."
He carried her to the horse, which stood trembling a few
yards away, took a flask from the holster, and poured a. little
brandy and water between her lips.
Presently there was a faint sigh. “She is coming round,”
he said to the man, who was still kneeling, looking on with
vacant eyes, as though he had neither heard nor compre-
hended what Bathurst was doing. Presently the girl moved
slightly and opened her eyes. At first there was no ex-
pression in them; then a vague wonder 'stole into them at
the white face looking down upon her. She closed them
again, and then reopened them, and then there was a slight
struggle to free herself. He allowed her to slip through his
arms until her feet touched the ground; then her eyes fell
on the kneeling figure. .
“Father!” she exclaimed. With a cry the man leapt to
his feet, sprang to her and seized her in his arms, and poured
out words of endearment. Then suddenly he released her
and threw himself on the ground before Bathurst, with
ejaculations of gratitude and thankfulness. “Get up, man,


12 RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
get up,” the latter said; “your daughter can scarce stand
alone, and the sooner we get away from this place the better ;
that savage beast is not likely to return, but he may do so;
let us be off.” He mounted his horse again, brought it up
to the side of the girl, and then learning over, took her and
swung her into the saddle in front of him. The man took
up a. large box that was lying in the road and hoisted it on
to his shoulders, and then, at a foot’s pace, they proceeded
on their way—Bathurst keeping a close watch on the jungle
at the side on which the tiger had entered it.
“ How came you to travel along this road alone ‘i ” he asked
the man. “The natives only venture through in large parties,
because of this tiger.”
“I am a stranger,” the man answered; “I heard at the
village where we slept last night that there was a tiger in
this jungle, but I thought we should be through it before
nightfall, and therefore there was no danger. If one heeded
all they say about tigers, one would never travel at all. I am
a. juggler, and we are on our way down the country through
Cawnpore and Allahabad. Had it not been for the valour
of my lord Sahib, we should never have got there ; for had I
lost my Rabda, the light of my heart, I should have gone no
further, but should have waited for the tiger to take me also.”
“There was no particular valour about it,” Bathurst said
shortly. “I saw the beast with its foot on your daughter,
and dismounted to beat it off just as if it had been a. dog,
without thinking whether there was any danger in it or not.
Men do it with savage beasts in menageries every day. They
are cowardly brutes after all, and can’t stand the lash. He
was taken altogether by surprise too.”
“My lord has saved my daughter’s life, and mine is at his
service henceforth,” the man said. “The mouse is a small
beast, but he may warn the lion. The white Sahibs are brave
and strong. Would one of my countrymen have ventured
his life to attack a tiger, armed only with a whip, for the
sake of the life of a poor wayfarer'l”
“Yes, I think there are many who would have done so,”
Bathurst replied. “ You do your countrymen injustice. There
are plenty of brave men among them, and I have heard before
now of villagers, armed only with sticks, attacking a tiger
who has carried off a victim from among them. You yourself
were standing boldly before it when I came up.”
“My child was under its feet—besides, I never thought of


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 13
myself. If I had had a Weapon, I should not have drawn it.
I had no thought of the tiger; I only thought that my child
was dead. She works with me, Sahib; since her mother died,
five years ago, we have travelled together over the country;
she plays while I conjure. She takes round the saucer for
the money, and she acts with me in the tricks that require
two persons ; it is she who disappears from the basket. \Ve
are everything to each other, Sahib. But what is my lord’s
name? Will he tell his servant, that he and Rabda may think
of him and talk of him as they tramp the roads together? ”
“My name is Ralph Bathurst. I am District Officer at
Deennugghur. How far are you going this evening?”
“We shall sleep at the first village we come to, Sahib; we
have walked many hours to-day, and this box, though its
contents are not weighty, is heavy to bear. We thought of
going down to-morrow to Deennugghur, and showing our
performances to the Sahib-logue theie."
“Very well; but there is one thing—what is your name '1 ”
“ Rujub.”
“Well, Rujub, if you go on to Deennugghur to-morrow,
say nothing to any one there about this affair with the tiger ;
it is nothing to talk about. I am not a shikari, but a hard-
working oflicial, and I don’t want to be talked about.”
“The Sahib’s Wish shall be obeyed,” the man said.
“You can come round to my bungalow and ask for me; I
shall be glad to hear whether your daughter is any the worse
for her scare. How do you feel, Rabda ? ”
“I feel as one in a dream, Sahib. I saw a great yellow beast
springing through the air, and I cried out, and I knew nothing
more till I saw the Sahib’s face; and now I have heard him
and my father talking, but their voices sound to me as if far
away, though I know that you are holding me.”
“You will be all the better after a night’s rest, child; no
wonder you feel strange and shaken. Another quarter of an
hour and we shall he at the village. I suppose, Ru jub, you
were born a conjurer.”
“Yes, Sahib, it is always so ; it goes down from father to
son. As soon as I was able to walk I began to work with my
father, and as I grew up he initiated me in the secrets of our
craft, which we may never divulge. ”
“ No, I know they are a mystery. Many of your tricks can
be done by our conjurers at home, but there are some that -
have never been solved. ”


14 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
“I have been offered, more than once, large sums by Eng-
lish Sahibs to tell them how some of the feats were done, but
I could not ; we are bound by terrible oaths, and in no case has
a juggler proved false to them. 'Were one to do so, he Would
be slain without mercy, and his fate in the next world would
be terrible ; for ever and for ever his soul would pass through
the bodies of the foulest and lowest creatures, and there would
be no forgiveness for him. I would give my life for the Sahib,
but even to him I would not divulge our mysteries.”
In a few minutes they came to the first village beyond the
jungle. As they approached it, Bathurst checked his horse
and lifted the girl down. She took his hand and pressed her
forehead to it.
“I shall see you tomorrow, then, Rujub,” he said, and
shaking the reins, went on at a canter. - '
“That is a new character for me to come out in,” he said
bitterly; “I do not know myself—I, of all men. But there
was no bravery in it ; it never occurred to me to be afraid ; I
just thrashed him off as I should beat off a dog who was
killing a lamb; there was no noise, and it is noise that
frightens me; if the brute had roared I should assuredly have
run ; I know it would have been so ,' I could not have helped
it to have saved my life. It is an awful curse that I am not
as other men, and that I tremble and shake like a girl at the
sound of firearms. It would have been better if I had been
killed by the first shot fired in the Punjaub eight years ago,
or if I had blown my brains out at the end of the day. Good
heaVens! what have I suffered since. But I will not think of
it. Thank God, I have got my work ; and as long as I keep
my thoughts on that there is no room for that other;” and
then, by a great effort of will, Ralph Bathurst put the past
behind him, and concentrated his thoughts on the work on
which he had been that day engaged.
The juggler did not arrive on the following evening as he
had expected, but late in the afternoon a native boy brought
in a message from him, saying that his daughter was too
shaken and ill to travel, but that they would come when she
recovered.
A week later, on returning from a long day’s work,
Bathurst was told that a juggler was in the verandah waiting
to see him.
“I told him, Sahib,” the servant said, “that you cared not
for such entertainments, and that he had better go elsewhere;


16 R0703, THE 7UGGLER.
“She will remain outside until I want her,” the juggler
said, as he entered and squatted himself on the floor. “I am
not going to juggle, Sahib. \Vith us there are two sorts of
feats ; there are those that are performed by sleight of hand or
by means of assistance. These are the juggler’s tricks we
show in the verandahs and compounds of the white Sahibs,
and in the streets of the cities. There are others that are
known only to the higher order among us, that we show only
on rare occasions. They have come to us from the oldest
times, and it is said they were brought by wise men from
Egypt ; but that I know not.”
“I have always been interested in juggling, and have seen
many things that I cannot understand,” Bathurst said. “I
have seen the basket trick done on the road in front of the
verandah, as well as in other places, and I cannot in any way
account for it.”
The juggler took from his basket a piece of wood about two
feet in length and some four inches in diameter.
“ You see this '1 ” he said.
Bathurst took it in his hand. “It looks like a bit sawn off
a telegraph pole,” he said.
“ \Vill you come outside, Sahib '1 "
The night was very dark, but the lamp on the table threw
its light through the window on to the drive in front of the
verandah. Rujub took with him a piece of wood about nine
inches square, with a soft pad on the top. He went out in
the drive and placed the piece of pole upright, and laid the
wood with the cushion on the top.-
“Now will you stand in the verandah awhile ’i ”
Bathurst stood back by the side of the window so as not to
interfere with the passage of the light. Rabda stole forward
and sat down upon the cushion.
“Now watch, Sahib.”
Bathurst looked, and saw the block of wood apparently
growing. Gradually it rose until Rabda passed up beyond
the light in the room.
“You may come out,” the juggler said, “ but do not touch
the pole. If you do, it will cause a fall, which would be fatal
to my child.”
Bathurst stepped out and looked up. He could but just
make out the figure of Rabda, seemingly already higher than
the top of the bungalow. Gradually it became more and
more indistinct. ‘


R07 UB, THE j‘UGGLER. 17
“You are there, Rabda '? ” her father said.
“ I am here, father l” and the voice seemed to come from a
considerable distance.
Again and again the question was asked, and the answer
became fainter and fainter, although it sounded as if it was a
distant cry in response to Rujub’s shout rather than spoken
in an ordinary voice. _
At last no response was heard.
“Now it shall descend,” the juggler said.
Two or three minutes passed, and then Bathurst, who was
staring up into the darkness, could make out the end of the
pole with the seat upon it, but Rabda was no longer there.
Rapidly it sank, until it stood its original height on the
ground.
“ Where is Rabda '1 ” Bathurst exclaimed.
“She is here, my lord,” and as he Spoke Rabda rose from
a sitting position on the balcony close to Bathurst.
“ It is marvellous,” the latter exclaimed. “I have heard
of that feat before, but have never seen it. May I take up
that piece of wood '! ”
“Assuredly, Sahib.”
Bathurst took it up and carried it to the light. It was
undoubtedly, as he had before supposed, a piece of solid wood.
The juggler had not touched it, or he would have supposed he
might have substituted for the piece he first examined a sort
of telescope of thin sheets of steel, but even that would not
have accounted for Rabda’s disappearance.
“I will show you one other feat, my lord.”
He took a brass dish, placed a few pieces of wood and char-
coal in it, struck a match, and set the wood on fire, and then
fanned it until the wood had burnt out, and the charcoal was
in a glow; then he sprinkled some powder upon it, and a.
dense white smoke rose.
“Now turn out the lamp, Sahib.”
Bathurst did so. The glow of the charcoal enabled him
still to see the light smoke; this seemed to him to become
clearer and clearer.
“ Now for the past ! ” Rujub said. The smoke grew
brighter and brighter, and mixed with flashes of colour;
presently Bathurst saw clearly an Indian scene. A village
stood on a crest, jets of smoke darted up from between the
houses, and then a line of troops in scarlet uniform advanced
against the village, firing as they went. They paused for a
" B


18 RU} UB, THE jUGGLER.
moment, and then with a rush went at the village and dis-
appeared in the smoke over the crest. .
“Good heavens,” Bathurst muttered, “it is the battle of
Chillianwalla.”
“The future 1 ” Rujub said, and the colours on the smoke
changed. Bathurst saw a wall surrounding a courtyard.
On one side was a house. It had evidently been besieged,
for in the upper part were many ragged holes, and two of the
windows were knocked into one. On the roof were men
firing, and there were one or two women among them. He
could see their faces and features distinctly. In the court—
yard wall there was a gap, and through this a crowd of Sepoys
were making their way, while a handful of whites were
defending a breastwork. Among them he recognised his
own figure. He saw himself club his rifle and leap down
into the middle of the Sepoys, fighting furiously there. The
colours faded away, and the room was in darkness again.
There was the crack of a match, and then Rujub' said quietly,
“If you will lift off the globe again, I will light the lamp,
Sahib.” '
Bathurst almost mechanically did as he was told.
“ \Vell, Sahib, what do you think of the pictures 'I ”
“The first was true,” Bathurst said quietly, “though how
you knew I was with the regiment that stormed the village
at Chillianwalla I know not. The second is certainly not true.”
“You can never know what the future will be, Sahib,” the
juggler said gravely.
“That is so," Bathurst said; “ but I know enough of
myself to say that it cannot be true. I do not say that the
Sepoys can never be fighting against whites, improbable as it
seems, but that I was doing what that figure did is, I know,
impossible. ”
“Time will show, Sahib,” the juggler said; “ the pictures
never lie. Shall I show you other things 'I ”
“No, Rujub, you have shown me enough; you have
astounded me. I want to see no more to-night.”
“Then farewell, Sahib; we shall meet again, I doubt not,
and mayhap I may be able to repay the debt I owe you ;”
and Rujub, lifting his basket, went out through the window
without another word.


RUjUB, THE YUGGLER. 19
CHAPTER III.
SOME seven or eight oflicers were sitting round the table
in the mess-room of the Io3rd Bengal Infantry at Cawnpore.
It had been a guest night, but the strangers had left, the
lights had been turned out in the billiard-room overhead, the
whist party had broken up, and the players had rejoined three
officers who had remained at table smoking and talking quietly.
Outside, through the open French windows, the ground
looked as if sprinkled with snow beneath the white light of
the full moon. Two or three of the mess servants were squat-
ting in the verandah, talking in low voices. A sentry walked
backwards and forwards by the gate leading into the mess-
house compound ; beyond, the maidan stretched away flat and
level to the low huts of the native lines on the other side.
“So the Doctor comes back to-morrow, Major,” the Ad-
jutant, who had been one of the whist party, said. “I shall
be very glad to have him back. In the first place, he is a
' capital fellow, and keeps us all alive ,' secondly, he is a good deal
better doctor than the station surgeon who has been looking
after the'men since we have been here; and lastly, if I had
got anything the matter with me myself, I would rather be
in his hands than those of any one else I know.”
“Yes, I agree with you, Prothero ,' the Doctor is as good
a fellow as ever stepped. There is no doubt about his talent
in his profession; and there are a good many of us who owed
our lives to him when we were down with cholera in that
bad attack three years ago. He is good all round; he is just
as keen a. shikari as he was when he joined the regiment,
twenty years ago; he is a good billiard-player, and one of
the best story-tellers I ever came across ; but his best point is
that he is such a thoroughly good fellow—always ready to do
’a good turn to any one, and to help a lame dog over a stile.
I could name a dozen men in India who owe their commis-
sions to him. I don’t know what the regiment would do
without him.”
“He went home on leave just after I joined,” one of the
subalterns said. “Of course, I know, from all I have
heard of him, that he is an awfully good fellow, but from
the little I saw of him myself, he seemed always growling
and snapping.”


go RUjUB, THE YUGGLER.
There was a general laugh from the others.
“Yes, that is his way, Thompson,” the Major said; “he
believes himself to be one of the most cynical and morose
of men.” .
“ He was married, wasn’t he, Major 7 ”
“Yes, it was a sad business. It was only just after I
joined. He is three years senior to me in the regiment. He
was appointed to it a month or two after the Colonel joined.
Well, as I say, a month or two after I came to it, he went
away on leave down to Calcutta, where he was to meet a
young lady who had been engaged to him before he left home.
They were married, and he brought her up country. Before
she had been with us a month we had one of those outbreaks
of cholera. It wasn’t a very severe one. I think we only
lost eight or ten men, and no officer ; but the Doctor’s young
wife was attacked, and in three or four hours she was carried
off. It regularly broke him down. However, he got over it,
as we all do, I suppose; and now I think he is married to the
regiment. He could have had staff appointments a score of
times, but he has always refused them. His time is up next
year, and he could go home on full pay, but I don’t suppose
he will.”
“And your niece arrives with him to-morrow, Major,” the
Adjutant said.
“Yes, I am going to try petticoat government, Prothero.
I don’t know how the experiment will succeed, but I am tired
of an empty bungalow, and I have been looking forward for
some years to her being old enough to come out and take
charge. It is ten years since I was home, and she was a
little chit of eight years old at that time.”
“ I think a vote of thanks ought to be passed to you, Major.
\Ve have only married ladies in the regiment, and it will wake
us up and do us good to have Miss Hannay among us.”
“There are the Colonel’s daughters,” the Major said, with
a smile.
“Yes, there are, Major, but they hardly count; 'they are
scarcely conscious of the existence of poor creatures like us ;
nothing short of a Resident or, at any rate, of a full»blown
Collector, will find favour in their eyes.”
“\Vell, I warn you all fairly,” the Major said, “that I
shall set my face against all sorts of philandering and love-
making. I am bringing my niece out here as my house-
keeper and companion, and not as a prospective wife for any


RUj'UB, THE j‘UGGLER. 21
of you youngsters I hope she will turn out to be as plain as
a pikestaff, and then I‘ may have some hopes of keeping her
with me for a time. The Doctor, in his letter from Calcutta,
says nothing as to what she is like, though he was good enough
to remark that she seemed to" have a fair share of common
sense, and has given him no more trouble on the voyage than
was to be expected under the circumstances. And now,
lads, it is nearly two o’clock, and as there is early parade
to-morrow, it is high time for you to be all in your beds.
\Vhat a blessing it would be if the sun would forget to shine
for a bit on this portion of the world, and we could have an
Arctic night of seven or eight months with a full moon the
whole time.”
A few minutes later the mess-room was empty, the lights
turned out, and the servants wrapped up in their blankets
had disposed themselves for sleep in the verandah.
As soon as morning parade was over, Major Hannay went
back to his bungalow, looked round to see that his bachelor
quarters were as bright and tidy as possible, then got into a
light suit, and went down to the posthouse. A quarter of
an hour later a cloud of dust along the road betokened the
approach of the Dak-Gharry, and two or three minutes later
it dashed up at full gallop amid a loud and continuous
cracking of the driver’s whip. The wiry little horses were
drawn up with a sudden jerk. The Major opened the door.
A little man sprang out and grasped him by the hand.
“Glad to see you, Major—thoroughly glad to be back
again. Here is your niece ; I deliver her safe and sound into
your hands.” And between them they helped a girl to alight
from the vehicle.
“I am heartily glad to see you, my dear,” the Major said,
as he kissed her ; “though I don’t think I should have known
you again.
“I should think not, uncle,” the girl said. “In the first
place, I was a little girl in short frocks when I saw you last ;
and in the second place, I am so covered with the dust that
you can hardly see what I am like. I think I should have
known you; your visit made a great impression upon us,
though I can remember now how disappointed we were when
you first arrived that you hadn’t a red coat and a sword, as we
had expected.”
“Well, we may as well be off at once, Isobel; it is only
five minutes’ walk to the bungalow. My man will see to your


22 R0703, THE YUGGLER.
luggage being brought up. Come along, Doctor. Of course
you will put up with me until you can look round and fix
upon quarters. I told Rumzan to bring your things round
with my niece’s. You have had a very pleasant voyage out,
I hope, Isobel? ” he went on, as they started.
“ Very pleasant, uncle, though I got rather tired of it at last."
“That is generally the way—every one is pleasant and
agreeable at first, but before they get to the end they take to
quarrelling like cats and dogs.”
“ We were not quite as bad as that,” the girl laughed, “ but
we certainly weren’t as amiable the last month or so as we
were during the first part of the voyage. Still, it was very
pleasant all along, and nobody quarrelled with me.”
“ Present company are always excepted,” the Doctor said.
“I stood in loco parentis, Major, and the result has been that
I shall feel in future more charitable towards mothers of
marriageable daughters. Still, I am bound to say that Miss
Hannay has given me as little trouble as could be expected.”
“You frighten me, Doctor; if you found her so onerous
only for a. voyage, what have I to look forward to 7”
“Well, you can’t say that I didn’t warn you, Major; when
you wrote home and asked me to take charge of your niece
on the way out, I told you frankly that my opinion of your
good sense was shaken.”
“Yes, you did express yourself with some strength,” the
Major laughed; “but then one is so accustomed to that, that
I did not take it to heart as I might otherwise have done.”
“That was before you knew me, Dr. YVade, otherwise I
should feel very hurt,” the girl put in.
“Yes, it was,” the Doctor said drily.
“ Don’t mind him, my dear,” her uncle said; “ we all know
the Doctor of old. This is my bungalow.”
“It is pretty, with all these flowers and shrubs round it,”
she said admiringly.
“Yes, we have been doing a good deal of watering the last
few weeks, so as to get it to look its best. This is your
special attendant; she will take you up to your room. By
the time you have had a bath, your boxes will be here. I
told them to have a cup of tea ready for you upstairs. Break—
fast will be on the table by the time you are ready.”
“ \Vell, old friend,” he said to the Doctor, when the girl had
one upstairs, “ no complications, I hope, on the voyage ‘.l ”
“ No, I think not,” the Doctor said. “ Of course, there were
..;_, '


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 23
lots of young puppies on board, and as she was out-and-out
the best-looking girl in the ship, half of them were dancing
attendance upon her all the voyage, but I am bound to say
that she acted like a sensible young woman ; and though she
was pleasant with them all, she didn’t get into any flirtation
with one more than another. I did my best to look after her,
but, of course, that would have been of no good if she had
been disposed to go her own way. I fancy about half of them
proposed to her—not that she ever said as much to me—but
whenever I observed one looking sulky and giving himself
airs, I could guess pretty well what had happened. These
young puppies are all alike, and we are not without experience
of the species out here.
“ Seriously, Major, I think you are to be congratulated. I
consider that you ran a tremendous risk in asking a young
woman, of whom you knew nothing, to come out to you; still
it has turned out well. If she had been a frivolous, giggling
thing, like most of them, I had made up my mind to do you
a good turn by helping to get her engaged on the voyage, and
should have seen her married off-hand at Calcutta, and have
come up and told you that you were well out of the scrape.
As, contrary to my expectations, she turned out to be a
sensible young woman, I did my best the other way. It is
likely enough you may have her on your hands some little
time, for I don’t think she is likely to be caught by the first
comer. Well, I must go and have my bath; the dust has
been awful coming up from Allahabad. That is one advan-
tage, and the only one as far as I can see, that they have got
in England. They don’t know what dust is there.”
\Vhen the bell for breakfast rang, and Isobel made her
appearance, looking fresh and cool, in a light dress, the Major
said, “You must take the head of the table, my dear, and
assume the reins of government forthwith.”
“ Then I should say, uncle, that if any guidance is required,
there will be an upset in a. very short time. No, that won't
do at all. You must go on just as you were before, and I
shall look on and learn. As far as I can see, everything is
perfect just as it is. This is a charming room, and I am sure
there is no fault to be found with the arrangement of these
flowers on the table. As for the cooking, everything looks
very nice, and, anyhow, if you have not been able to get them
to cook to your taste, it is. of no use my attempting anything
in that way. Besides, I suppose I must learn something of


24 RU} UB, THE j‘UGGLER.
the language before I can attempt to do anything. No, uncle,
I will sit in this chair if you like, and make tea and pour it
out, but that is the beginning and the end of my assumption
of the head of the establishment at present.”
“Well, Isobel, I hardly expected that you were going to
run the establishment just at first ; indeed, as far as that goes,
one’s butler, if he is a good man, has pretty well a free hand.
He is generally responsible, and is in fact what we should call
at home housekeeper—he and the cook between them arrange
everything. I say to him, ‘Three gentlemen are coming to
tiffen.’ He nods and says, ‘Atcha Sahib,’ which means ‘All
right, sir,’ and then I know it will be all right. If I have a
fancy for any special thing, of course I say so. Otherwise, I
leave it to them, and if the result is not satisfactory, I blow up.
Nothing can be more simple.”
“But how about bills, uncle 2 ”
“Well, my dear, the butler gives them to me, and I pay
them. He has been with me a good many years, and will not
let the others—that is to say, the cook and the syce, the washer-
man, and so on, cheat me beyond a reasonable amount. Do
you, Rumzan'l ”
Rumzan, who was standing behind the Major’s chair, in a
white turban, and dress with a. red and white sash round his
waist, smiled.
“ Rumzan not let any one rob his master.”
“Not to any great extent, you know, Rumzan. One doesn’t
expect more than that.”
“It is just the same here, Miss Hannay, as it is everywhere
else,” said the Doctor; “only in big establishments in England
they rob you of pounds, while here they rob you of annas,
which, as I have explained to you, are twopence-halfpennies.
The person who undertakes to put down little peculations
enters upon a war in which he is sure to get the worst of it.
He wastes his time, spoils his temper, makes himself and
every one around him uncomfortable, and after all he is robbed.
Life is too short for it, especially in a. climate like this. Of
course, in time you get to understand the language; if you see
anything in the bills that strikes you as showing waste, you
can go into the thing, but as a rule you trust entirely to your
butler; if you cannot trust him, get another one. Rumzan
has been with your uncle ten years, so you are fortunate. If
the Major had gone home instead of me, and if you had had
an entirely fresh establishment of servants to look after, the


RU] UB, THE YUGGLER. 25
case would have been different; as it is, you will have no
trouble that way.”
“Then what are my duties to be, uncle?”
“Your chief duties, my dear, are to look pleasant, which
will evidently be no trouble to you ; to amuse me and keep me
in a good temper as far as possible; to keep on as good terms
as may be with the other ladies of the station; and, what will
perhaps be the most difficult part of your work, to snub and
keep in order the young otficers of our own and other corps.”
Isobel laughed. “That doesn’t sound a very diflicult pro-
gramme, uncle, except the last item; I have already had a
little experience that way, haven’t I, Doctor'! I hope I shall
have the benefit of your assistance in the future, as I had
aboard the ship.”
“I will do my best,” the Doctor said grimly; “but the
British subaltern is pretty well impervious to snubs ; he
belongs to the pachydermatous family of animals ; his armour
of self-conceit renders him invulnerable against the milder
forms of raillery. However, I think you can be trusted to
hold your own with him, Miss Hannay, without much assistance
from the Major or myself. Your real difficulty will lie rather in
your struggle against the united female forces of the station."
“But why shall I have to struggle with them?” Isobel
asked, in surprise, while her uncle broke into a laugh.
“Don’t frighten her, Doctor."
“She is not so easily frightened, Major; it is just as well
that she should be prepared. Well, my dear Miss Hannay,
Indian society has this peculiarity, that the women never
grow old. At least,” he continued, in reply to the girl’s look
of surprise, “they are never conscious of growing old. At
home a woman’s family grows up about her, and are constant
reminders that she is becoming a matron. Here the children
are sent away when they get four or five years old, and do
not appear on the scene again until they are grown up. Then,
too, ladies are greatly in the minority, and they are accustomed
to be made vastly more of than they are at home, and the
consequence is that the amount of envy, hatred, jealousy, and
all uncharitableness is appalling.”
“N o, no, Doctor, not as bad as that,” the Major remon-
strated.
“Every bit as bad as that,” the Doctor said stoutly. “I
am not a woman-hater, far from it ; but I have felt sometimes
that if John Company, in its beneficenoe, would pass a decree


26 ' RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER.
absolutely exeluding the importation of white women into
India, it would be an unmixed blessing.”
“For shame, Doctor,” Isobel Hannay said; “and to think
that I should have such a high opinion of you up to now.”
“I can't help it, my dear ; my experience is that for ninety-
nine out of every hundred unpleasantnesses that take place
out here, women are in one way or another responsible. They
get up sets and cliques, and break up what might be other-
wise pleasant society into sections. Talk about caste amongst
natives; it is nothing to the caste among women out here.
The wife of a civilian of high rank looks down upon the wives
of military men, the general’s wife looks down upon a cap-
tain's, and so right through from the top to the bottom.
“ It is not so among the men, or at any rate to a very much
smaller extent. Of course, some men are pompous fools, but,
as a rule, if two men meet, and both are gentlemen, they care
nothing as to what their respective ranks may be. A man
may be 2. lord or a doctor, a millionaire or a struggling bar-
rister, but they meet on equal terms in society; but out here
it is certainly not so among the women—they stand upon their
husband’s dignity in a. way that would be pitiable if it were
not exasperating. Of course, there are plenty of good women
among them, as there are everywhere—women whom even
India can’t spoil; but what with exclusiveness, and with the
amount of admiration and adulation they get, and what with
the want of occupation for their thoughts and minds, it is
very hard for them to avoid getting spoilt.” .
“\Vell, I hope I shan’t get spoilt, Doctor; and I hope, if
you see that I am getting spoilt, you will make a point of
telling me so at once.”
The Doctor grunted. “Theoretically, people are always
ready to receive good advice, Miss Hannay ; practically, they
are always offended by it. However, in your case I will risk
it, and I am bound to say that hitherto you have proved your-'
self more amenable in that way than most young women I
have come across.” '
“And now, if we have done, we will go out on the
verandah,” the Major said. “I am sure the Doctor must be
dying for a cheroot.”
“The Doctor has smoked pretty continuously since we left
Allahabad,” Isobel said. “He wanted to sit up with the
driver, but, of course, I would not have that. I had got
pretty well accustomed to smoke coming out, and even if I


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 17
had not been, I would much rather have been almost suffo-
cated than have been in there by myself. I thought a dozen
times the vehicle was going to upset, and what with the
bumping and the shouting and the cracking of the whip——
especially when the horses wouldn’t start, which was generally
the case at first—I should have been frightened out of my life
had I been alone. It seemed to me that something dreadful
was always going to happen.”
“You can take it easy this morning, Isobel,” the Major
said, when they were comfortably seated in the bamboo
lounges in the verandah. “You won’t have any callers to-
day, as it will be known you travelled all night. People will
imagine that you want a quiet day before you are on show.”
“ \Vhat a. horrid expression, uncle.”
“\Vell, my dear, it represents the truth. The arrival of
a fresh lady from England, especially of a ‘spin.,’ which is
short for spinster or unmarried woman, is an event of some
importance in an Indian station. Not, of course, so much in
a place like this, because this is the centre of a large district,
but in a. small station it is an event of the first importance.
The men are anxious to see what a newcomer is like for
herself; the women, to look at her dresses and see the latest
fashions from home, and also to ascertain whether she is
likely to turn out a formidable rival. However, to-day you
can enjoy quiet; to-morrow you must attire yourself in your
most becoming costume, and I will trot you round.”
“Trot me round, uncle 1”
“Yes, my dear. In India the order of procedure is re-
versed, and newcomers call in the first place upon residents.”
“What a very unpleasant custom, uncle; especially as
some of the residents may not want to know them.”
“Well, every one must know every one else in a station,
my dear, though they may not wish to be intimate. So,
about half-past one to-morrow, we will start.”
“ \Vhat, in the heat of the day, uncle?”
“Yes, my dear. That is another of the inscrutable freaks
of Indian fashion. The hours for calling are from about half-
past twelve to half-past two, just in the hottest hours. I
don’t pretend to account for it.”
“ How many ladies are there in the regiment?”
“There is the Colonel’s wife, Mrs. Cromarty. She has two
grown-up red-headed girls,” replied the Doctor. “She is a.
distant relation—a second cousin—of some Scotch lord or


28 RUerB, THE j‘UGGLER.
other, and, on the strength of that and her husband’s colonelcy,
gives herself prodigious airs. Three of the captains are
married. Mrs. Doolan is a. merry little Irish woman. You
will like her. She has two or three children. She is a general
favourite in the regiment. _
“Mrs. Rintoul—I suppose she is here still, Major, and
unchanged? Ah, I thought so. She is a washed-out woman,
without a spark of energy in her composition. She believes
that she is a chronic invalid, and sends for me on an average
once a week. But there is nothing really the matter with
her, if she would but only believe it. Mrs. Roberts ”
“ Don’t be ill-natured, Doctor,” the Major broke in. “ Mrs.
Roberts, my dear, is a good-looking woman, and a general
flirt. I don’t think there is any harm in her whatever. Mrs.
Prothero, the Adjutant’s wife, has only been out here eighteen
months, and is a pretty little woman, and in all respects nice.
There is only one other, Mrs. Scarsdale; she came out six
months ago. She is a quiet young woman, with, I should
say, plenty of common sense: I should think you will like
her. That completes the regimental list.”
“Well, that is not so very formidable. Anyhow, it is a
comfort that we shall have no one here to-day.”
“You will have the whole regiment here in a few minutes,
Isobel, but they will be coming to see the Doctor, not you;
if it hadn’t been that they knew you were under his charge,
every one would have come down to meet him when he arrived.
But if you feel tired, as I am sure you must be after your
journey, there is no reason why you shouldn’t go and lie down
quietly for a few hours.”
“I will stop here, uncle; it will be much less embarrassing
to see them all for the first time when they come to see Dr.
\Vade and I am quite a secondary consideration, than if they
had come specially to call on me.”
“Well, I agree with you there, my dear. Ah! here come
Doolan and Prothero.”
A light trap drove into the enclosure and drew up in front
of the verandah, and two officers jumped down, whilst the syce,
who had been standing on a step behind, ran to the horse’s
head. They hailed the Doctor, as he stepped out from the
verandah, with a shout.
“Glad to see you back, Doctor. The regiment has not
seemed like itself without you."
“We have been just pining without you, Doctor,” Captain


R07 01:, THE jUGGLER. 29
Doolan said 3 “and the ladies would have got up a. deputation
to meet you on your arrival, only I told them that it would be
too much for your modesty.”
“Well, it is a good thing that some one has a little of
that quality in the regiment, Doolan,” the Doctor said, as he
shook hands heartily with them both. “It is very little of
it that fell to the share of Ireland when it was served out.”
As they dropped the Doctor’s hand, the Major said, “Now,
gentlemen, let me introduce you to my niece.” The intro-
ductions were made, and the whole party took chairs on the
verandah.
“ Do you object to smoking, Miss Hannay; perhaps you have
not got accustomed to it yet? I see the Doctor is smoking;
but then he is a privileged person, altogether beyond rule."
“I rather like it in the open air,” Isobel said. “ N o doubt
I shall get accustomed to it indoors before long.”
In a few minutes four or five more of the officers arrived,
and Isobel sat an amused listener to the talk; taking but
little part in it herself, but gathering a good deal of informa-
tion as to the people at the station from the answers given to
the Doctor’s inquiries. It was very much like the conversa-
tion on board ship, except that the topics of conversation were
wider and more numerous, and there was a community of
interest wanting on board a ship. In half an hour, however,
the increasing warmth and her sleepless night began to tell
upon her, and her uncle, seeing that she was beginning to look
fagged, said, “The best thing that you can do, Isobel, is to go
indoors for a bit, and have a good nap. At five o’clock I will take
you round for a drive, and show you the sights of Cawnpore.”
“I do feel sleepy,” she said, “though it sounds rude to
say so.”
“Not at all," the Doctor put in; “if any of these young
fellows had made the journey out from Allahabad in that
wretched gharry, they would have turned into bed as soon as
they arrived, and would not have got up till the first mess
bugle sounded, and very likely would have slept on until next
morning.
“Now,” he went on, when Isobel had disappeared, “ we
will adjourn with you to the mess-house. That young lady
would have very small chance of getting to sleep with all this
racket here. Doolan’s voice alone would banish sleep any-
where within a. distance of a hundred yards.”
“I will join you there later, Doctor,” the Major said. “ I


30 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
have got a couple of hours’ work in the orderly room. Itumzan,
don’t let my niece be disturbed, but if she wakes and rings
the bell, send up a message by the woman that I shall not be
back until four.”
The Major walked across to the orderly room, while the
rest, mounting their buggies, drove to the mess-house, which
was a. quarter of a mile away.
“I should think Miss Hannay will prove a valuable addition
to our circle, Doctor,” the Adjutant said. “I don’t know
why, but I gathered from what the Major said that his niece
was very young. He spoke of her as if she were quite a
child.”
“She is a very nice, sensible young woman,” the Doctor
said; “clever and bright, and, as you can see for yourselves,
pretty, and yet no nonsense about her. I only hope that she
won’t get spoilt here; nineteen out of twenty young women
do get spoilt within six months of their arrival in India, but
I think she will be one of the exceptions.”
“I should have liked to have seen the Doctor doing
chaperon,” Captain Doolan laughed; “he would have been
a brave man who would have attempted even the faintest
flirtation with any one under his charge.”
“That is your opinion, is it, Doolan?" the Doctor said
sharply. “I should have thought that even your common
sense would have told you that any one who has had the mis-
fortune to see as much of womankind as I have, would have
been aware that any endeavour to check a, flirtation for which
they are inclined would be of all others the way to induce
them to go in for it headlong. You are a married man your-
self, and ought to know that. A woman is a good deal like a
spirited horse; let her have her head, and, though she may for
a time make the pace pretty fast, she will go straight, and
settle down to her collar in time, whereas if you keep a tight
curb she will fret and fidget, and as likely as not make a bolt
for it. I can assure you that my duties were of the most
nominal description. There were the usual number of hollow-
pated lads on board, who buzzed in their usual feeble way
round Miss Hannay, and were one after another duly snubbed.
Miss Hannay has plenty of spirits, and a considerable sense of
humour, and I think that she enjoyed the voyage thoroughly.
And now let us talk of something else.”
After an hour’s chat, the Doctor started on his round of
calls upon the ladies; the Major had not come in from the


RvaB, THE jUGGLER. 31
orderly room, and, after the Doctor left, Isobel Hannay was
again the topic of conversation.
“She is out and out the prettiest girl in the station,” the
Adjutant said to some of the oflicers who had not seen her.
“She will make quite a sensation; and there are five or six
ladies in the station, whose names I need hardly mention, who
will not be very pleased at her coming. She is thoroughly in
good form, too; nothing in the slightest degree fast or noisy
about her. She is quiet and self-possessed. I fancy she
will be able to hold her own against any of them. Clever?
I should say ‘certainly ;’ but, of course, that is from her face
rather than from anything she said. I expect half the un-
married men in the station will be going wild over her. You
need not look so interested, Wilson; the matter is of no
more personal interest to you than if I were describing a new
comet. Nothing less than a big civilian is likely to carry off
such a. prize, so I warn you beforehand you had better not be
losing your heart to her.”
“\Vell, you know, Prothero, subalterns do manage to get
Wives sometimes.”
There was a laugh.
“That is true enough, Wilson ; but then, you see, I
married at home; besides, I am adjutant, which sounds a lot
better than subaltern.”
“That may go for a good deal in the regiment,” Wilson
retorted, “but I doubt if there are many women that know
the difl‘erence between an adjutant and a quartermaster.
They know about colonels, majors, captains, and even sub-
alterns; but if you were to say that you were an adjutant
they would be simply mystified, though they might under-
stand if you said bandmaster. But I fancy sergeantmajor
would sound ever so much more imposing.”
“ Wilson, if you are disrespectful, I shall discover to-morrow,
on parade, that No. 3 Company wants a couple of hours’ extra
drill badly, and then you will feel how grievous a mistake it
is to cheek an adjutant.”
The report of those who had called at the Major’s was
so favourable that curiosity was quite roused as to the new-
comer, and when the Major drove round with her the next
day every one was at home, and the verdict on the part of the
ladies was generally favourable, but was by no means so un-
qualified as that of the gentlemen.
Mrs. Cromarty admitted that she was nice-looking; but


32 R0703, THE jUGGLER.
was critical as to her carriage and manner. She would be
admired by young oflicers, no doubt, but there was too much
life and animation about her, and although she would not
exactly say that she stooped, she was likely to do so in time.
“ She will be nothing remarkable when her freshness has
worn 011’ a little.” In this opinion the Misses Cromarty
thoroughly assented. They had never been accused of stoop-
ing, and, indeed, were almost painfully upright, and were
certainly not particularly admired by subalterns.
Mrs. Doolan was charmed with her, and told her she hoped
that they would be great friends.
“ This is a very pleasant life out here, my dear,” she said, “if
one does but take it in the right way. There is a great deal of
tittle-tattle in the Indian stations, and some quarrelling ; but,
you know, it takes two to make a quarrel, and I make it a point
never to quarrel with any one. It is too hot for it. Then, you
see, I have the advantage of being Irish, and, for some reason
or other that I don’t understand, we can say pretty nearly
what we like. People don’t take us seriously, you know ; so
I keep in with them all.”
Mrs. Rintoul received her visitors on the sofa. “ It is
quite refreshing to see a face straight from England, Miss
Hannay. I only hope that you may keep your bright colour
and healthy looks. Some people do. Not their colour, but
their health. Unfortunately I am not one of them. I do not
know what it is to have a day’s health. The climate com-
pletely oppresses me, and I am fit for nothing. You would
hardly believe that I was as strong and healthy as you are
when I first came out. You came out with Dr. Wade—a
clever man—I have a very high opinion of his talent, but my
case is beyond him. It is a sad annoyance to him that it is
so, and he is continually trying to make me believe that there
is nothing the matter with me, as if my looks did not speak
for themselves.”
Mrs. Rintoul afterwards told her husband she could hardly
say that she liked Miss Hannay. “ She is distressingly brisk
and healthy, and I should say, my dear, not of a sympathetic
nature, which is always a pity in a young woman.”
After this somewhat depressing visit, the call upon Mrs.
Roberts was a refreshing one. She received her very cordially.
“I like you, Miss Hannay,” she said, when, after a quarter
of an hour’s lively talk, the Major and his niece got up to go.
“ I always say what I think, and it is very good-natured of me


RU} 013, THE jUGGLER. 33
to say so, for I don’t disguise from myself that you will put
my nose out of joint.”
“I don’t want to put any one’s nose out of joint,” Isobel
laughed.
“You will do it, whether you want to or not,” Mrs. Roberts
said; “my husband as much as told me so last night, and I
was prepared not to like you, but I see that I shall not be
able to help doing so. Major Hannay, you have dealt me a
heavy blow, but I forgive you.”
\Vhen the round of visits was finished, the Major said,
“ Well, Isobel, what do you think of the ladies of the regi-
mentl”
“I think they are all very nice, uncle. I fancy I shall
like Mrs. Doolan and Mrs. Scarsdale best; I won’t give any
opinion yet about Mrs. Cromarty.”
CHAPTER IV.
THE life of Isobel Hannay had not, up to the time when she
left England to join her uncle, been a very bright one. At
the death of her father, her mother had been left with an
income that enabled her to live, as she said, genteelly at
Brighton. She had three children : the eldest a girl of twelve;
Isobel, who was eight; and a boy of five, who was sadly de-
formed, the result of a fall from the arms of a careless nurse
when he was an infant. It was at that time that Major
Hannay had come home on leave, having been left trustee
and executor, had seen to all the money arrangements, and
had established his brother’s widow at Brighton. The work
had not been altogether pleasant, for Mrs. Hannay was a
selfish and querulous woman, very difficult to satisfy even in
little matters, and with a chronic suspicion that every one
with whom she came in contact was trying to get the best of
her. Her eldest girl was likely, Captain Hannay thought, to
take after her mother, whose pet she was, while Isobel took
after her father. He had suggested that both should be sent
to school, but Mrs. Hannay would not hear of parting from
Helena, but was willing enough that Isobel should be sent to
a boarding school at her uncle’s expense.
As the years went by, Helena grew up, as Mrs. Hannay
proudly said, the image of what she herself had been at her
C


34 RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER.
age—tall and fair, indolent and selfish, fond of dress and
gaiety, discontented because their means would not permit
them to indulge in either to the fullest extent. There was
nothing in common between her and her sister, who, when at
home for the holidays, spent her time almost entirely with
her brother, who received but slight attention from any one
else, his deformity being considered as a personal injury and
affliction by his mother and elder sister.
“You could not care less for him,” Isobel once said, in a.
fit of passion, “if he were a (log. I don’t think you notice
him more, not one bit. He wanders about the house without
anybody to give a thought to him. I call it cruel, downright
cruel.”
“You are a wicked girl, Isobel,” her mother said angrily,
“a wicked, violent girl, and I don’t know what will become
of you. It is abominable of you to talk so even if you are
wicked enough to get into a passion. \Vhat can we do for
him that we don’t do? \Vhat is the use of talking to him
when he never pays attention to what we say, and is always
moping. I am sure we get everything that we think will
please him, and he goes out for a walk with us every day;
what could possibly be done more for him 1 ”
“A great deal more might be done for him,” Isobel burst
out. “You might love him, and that would be everything to
him. I don’t believe you and Helena love him, not one bit,
not one tiny scrap.”
“ Go up to your room, Isobel, and remain there for the rest
of the day. You are a very bad girl. I shall write to Miss
Virtue about you 3 there must be something very wrong in her
management of you, or you would never be so passionate and
insolent as you are.”
But Isobel had not stopped to hear the last part of the
sentence, the door had slammed behind her. She was not
many minutes alone upstairs, for Robert soon followed her
up, for when she was at home he rarely left her side, watch-
ing her every look and gesture with eyes as loving as those of
a dog, and happy to sit on the ground beside her, with his
head leaning against her, for hours together.
Mrs. Hannay kept her word and wrote to Miss Virtue, and
the evening after she returned to school, Isobel was summoned
to her room.
“I am sorry to say, I have a very bad account of you from
your mother. She says you are a passionate and wicked girl.


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 35
How is it, dear; you are not passionate here, and I certainly
do not think you are wicked 1”
“I can't help 'it when I am at home, Miss Virtue. I am
sure I try to be good, but they won’t let me. They don’t like
me because I can’t be always tidy and what they call prettin
behaved, and because I hate walking on the parade and being
stuck-up and unnatural, and they don’t like me because I am
not pretty, and because I am thin and don’t look, as mamma.
says, a credit to her; but it is not that so much as because of
Robert. You know he is deformed, Miss Virtue, and they
don’t care for him, and he has no one to love him but me, and
it makes me mad to see him treated so. That is what it was
she wrote about. I told her they treat him like a dog, and
so they do,” and she burst into tears.
“But that was very naughty, Isobel,” Miss Virtue said
gravely. “You are only eleven years old, and too young to
be a. judge of these matters, and even if it were as you say, it
is not for a child to speak so to her mother."
“I know that, Miss Virtue, but how can I help it'l I
could cry out with pain when I see Robert looking from one
to the other just for a. kind word, which. he never gets. It
is no use, Miss Virtue; if it was not for him I would much
rather never go home at all, but stop here through the holi—
days, only what would he do if I didn’t go home? I am the
only pleasure he has. \Vhen I am there he will sit for hours
on my knee, and lay his head on my shoulder, and stroke my
face. It makes me feel as if my heart would break.”
“Well, my dear,” Miss Virtue said, somewhat puzzled, “it
is sad, if it is as you say, but that does not excuse your
being disrespectful to your mother. It is not for you to
judge her.”
“But cannot something be done for Robert, Miss Virtue?
Surely they must do something for children like him.”
“There are people, my dear, who take a few afflicted chil-
dren and give them special training. Children of that kind have
sometimes shown a great deal of unusual talent, and, if so, it is
cultivated, and they are put in a way of earning a livelihood.”
“Are there? " Isobel exclaimed, with eager eyes. “ Then I
know what I will do, Miss Virtue; I will write off at once to
Uncle Tom—he is our guardian. I know if I were to speak
to mamma about Robert going to school it would be of no use ;
but if uncle writes, I dare say it would be done. I am sure
she and Helena would be glad enough. I don’t suppose she


36 R07 UB, THE j‘UGGLER.
ever thought of it. It would be a relief to them to get him
out of their sight”
Miss Virtue shook her head. “ You must not talk so, Isobel.
It is not right- or dutiful, and you are a great deal too young
to judge your elders, even if they were not related to you;
and, pray, if you write to your uncle do not write in that
spirit—it would shock him greatly, and he would form a very
bad opinion of you."
And so Isobel wrote. She was in the habit of writing once
every half year to her uncle, who had told her that he wished
her to do so, and that people out abroad had great pleasure in
letters from England. Hitherto she had only written about her
school life, and this letter caused her a great deal of trouble.
It answered its purpose. Captain Hannay had no liking
either for his sister-in-law or his eldest niece, and had, when
he was with them, been struck with the neglect with which
the little boy was treated. Isobel had taken great pains not
to say anything that would show she considered that Robert
was harshly treated ; but had simply said that she heard there
were schools where little boys like him could be taught, and
that it would be such a great thing for him, as it was very
dull for him having nothing to do all day. But Captain
Hannay read through the lines, and felt that it was a protest
against her brother’s treatment, and that she would not have
written to him had she not felt that so only would anything
be done for him. Accordingly he wrote home to his sister-in-
law, saying he thought it was quite time now that the boy
should be placed with some gentleman who took a few lads
unfitted for the rough life of an ordinary school. He should
take the charges upon himself, and had written to his agent in
London to find out such an establishment, to make arrange-
ments for Robert to go there, and to send down one of his
clerks to take charge of him on the journey. He also wrote
to Isobel, telling her what he had done, and blaming himself
for not having thought of it before, winding up by saying : “ I
have not mentioned to your mother that I heard from you about
it that is a little secret just as well to keep to ourselves.”
The next five years were much happier to Isobel, for the
thought of her brother at home without her had before been
constantly on her mind. It was a delight to her now to go
home and to see the steady improvement that took place in
Robert. He was brighter in every respect, and expressed
himself as most happy where he was.


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 37
As years went on, he grew into a bright and intelligent
boy, though his health was by no means good, and he looked
frail and delicate. He was as passionately attached to her as
ever, and during the holidays they were never separated ,' they
stood quite alone, their mother and sister interesting them-
selves hut little in their doings, and they were allowed to take
long walks together, and to sit in a room by themselves, where
they talked, drew, painted, and read.
Mrs. Hannay disapproved of Isobel as much as ever.
“She is a most headstrong girl,” she would lament to her
friends, “and is really quite beyond my control. I do not at
all approve of the school she is at, but unfortunately my
brother-in-law, who is her guardian, has, under the will of my
poor husband, absolute control in the matter. I am sure poor
John never intended that he should be able to override my
wishes ; but though I have written to him several times about
it, he says that he sees no valid reason for any change, and
that from Isobel’s letters to him she seems very happy there,
and to be getting on well. She is so very unlike dear Helena,
and even when at home I see but little of her ; she is completely
wrapped up in her unfortunate brother. Of course I don’t
blame her for that, but it is not natural that a girl her age
should care nothing for pleasures or going out or the things
natural to young people. Yes, she is certainly improving in
appearance, and if she would but take some little pains about
her dress, would be really very presentable.”
But her mother’s indifference disturbed Isobel but little.
She was perfectly happy with her brother when at home, and
very happy at school, where she was a general favourite. She
was impulsive, high-spirited, and occasionally gave Miss Virtue
some trouble, but her disposition was frank and generous,
there was not a tinge of selfishness in her disposition, and
while she was greatly liked by girls of her own age, she was
quite adored by little ones.
The future that she always pictured to herself was a little
cottage with a bright garden in the suburbs of London, where
she and Robert could live together—she would go out as a
daily governess; Robert, who was learning to play the organ,
would, she hoped, get a post as organist. Not, of course, for
the sake of the salary, for her earnings, and the interest of
the thousand pounds that would be hers when she came of
age, would be sufficient for them both, but as an amusement
for him, and to give him a sense of independence.


3s RUjUB, THE j'UGGLER.
But when she was just seventeen, and was looking forward
to the time when she would begin to carry her plan into
effect, a terrible blow came. She heard from her mother that
Robert was dead.
“It is a sad blow for us all,” Mrs. Hannay wrote, “but, as
you know, he has never been strong; still, we had no idea
that anything serious ailed him until we heard a fortnight
since he was suffering from a violent cough, and had lost
strength rapidly. A week later we heard that the doctors
were of opinion it was a case of sudden consumption, and that
the end was rapidly approaching. I went up to town to see
him, and found him even worse than I expected, and was in
no way surprised when this morning I received a letter saying
that he had gone. Great as is the blow, one cannot but feel
that, terribly afflicted as he was, his death is, as far as he is ,
concerned, a happy release. I trust you will now abandon
your wild scheme of teaching and come home.”
But home was less home than ever to Isobel now, and she
remained another six months at school, when she received an
important letter from her uncle.
“MY DEAR Isonnn,-—VVhen you first wrote to me and told
me that what you were most looking forward to was to make
a home for your brother, I own that it was a blow to me, for
I had long had plans of my own about you 3 however, I
thought your desire to help your brother was so natural, and
would give you such happiness in carrying it into effect, that
I at once fell in with it and put aside my own plan. But the
case is altered now, and I can see no reason why I cannot
have my own way. \Vhen I was in England I made up my
mind that unless I married, which was a. most improbable
contingency, I would, when you were old enough, have you
out to keep house for me. I foresaw, even then, that your
. brother might prove an obstacle to this plan. Even in the
short time I was with you it was easy enough to see that the
charge of him would fall on your shoulders, and that it would
be a labour of love to you.
“If he lived, then, I felt you would not leave him, and
that you would be right in not doing so, but even then it
seemed likely to me that he would not grow up to manhood.
From time to time I have been in correspondence with the
clergyman he was with, and learned that the doctor who
attended them thought but poorly of him. I had him taken


RUjUB, THE YUGGLER. 39
to two first-class physicians in London ; they pronounced him
to be constitutionally weak, and said that beyond strengthen-
ing medicines and that sort of thing, they could do nothing
for him.
“ Therefore, dear, it was no surprise to me when I received
first your mother’s letter with the news, and then your own
written a few days later. \Vhen I answered that letter I
thought it as well not to say anything of my plan, but by the
time you receive this it will be six months since your great
loss, and you will be able to look at it in a fairer light than
you could have done then, and I do hope you will agree to
come out to me. Life here has its advantages and disadvan-
tages, but I think that, especially for young people, it is a
pleasant one.
“ I am getting very tired of a bachelor’s establishment, and
it will he a very great pleasure indeed to have you here.
Ever since I was in England I made up my mind to adopt
you as my own child. You were very like my brother John,
and your letters and all I have heard of you show'that you
have grown up just as he would have wished you to do.
Your sister Helena is your mother’s child; and without wish-
ing to hurt your feelings, “your mother and I have nothing in
common. I regard you as the only relation I have in the
world, and whether you come out or whether you do not,
whatever I leave behind me will be yours. I do hope that
you will at any rate come out for a time. Later on, if you
don’t like the life here, you can fall back upon your own plan.
“If you decide to come, write to my agent. I enclose
envelope addressed to him. Tell him when you can be ready.
He will put you in the way of the people you had better go to
for your outfit, will pay all bills, take your passage, and so on.
“ Whatever you do, do not stint yourself. The people you
go to will know a great deal better than you can do what is
necessary for a. lady out here. All you will have to do will
be to get measured and to give them an idea of your likes and
fancies as to colours and so on. They will have instructions
from my agent to furnish you with a complete outfit, and will
know exactly how many dozens of everything are required.
“I can see no reason why you should not start within a
month after the receipt of this letter, and I shall look most
anxiously for a. letter from you saying that you will come,
and that you will start by a sailing ship in a month at latest
from the date of your writing.”


4o RUjUB, THE j’UGGLER.
Isobel did not hesitate, as her faith in her uncle was un-
bounded. Next to her meetings with her brother, his letters
had been her greatest pleasures. He had always taken her
part; it was he who, at her request, had Robert placed at
school, and he had kept her at Miss Virtue’s in spite of her
mother’s complaints. At home she had never felt comfortable ;
it had always seemed to her that she was in the way; her
mother disapproved of her; while from Helena she had never
had a sisterly word. To go out to India to see the wonders she
had read of, and to be her uncle’s companion, seemed a per-
fectly delightful prespect. Her answer to her uncle was sent
off the day after she received his letter, and that day month
she stepped on board an Indiaman in the London Docks.
The intervening time had not been a pleasant one. Mrs.
Hannay had heard from the Major of his wishes and inten-
tions regarding Isobel, and she was greatly displeased thereat.
“Why should he have chosen you instead of Helena 1 ” she
said angrily to Isobel, on the first day of her arrival home.
“I suppose because he thought I should suit him better,
mamma. I really don’t see why you should be upset about it ;
I don’t suppose Helena would have liked to go, and I am sure
you would not have liked to have had me with you instead of
her. I should have thought you would have been pleased I
was oif your hands altogether. It doesn’t seem to me that
you have ever been really glad to have me about you.”
“That has been entirely your own fault,” Mrs. Hannay said.
“ You have always been headstrong and determined to go your
own way, you have never been fit to be seen when any one
came, you have thwarted me in every way.”
“I am very sorry, mamma. I think I might have been
better if you had had a little more patience with me, but even
now if you really wish me to stay at home I will do so. I can
write again to uncle and tell him that I have changed my mind.”
“Certainly not,” Mrs. Hannay said. “Naturally I should
wish to have my children with me, but I doubt whether your
being here would be for the happiness of any of us, and
besides, I do not wish your uncle’s money to go out of the
family; he might take it into his head to leave it to a hos—
pital for black women. Still, it would have been only right and
proper that he should at any rate have given Helena the first
choice. As for your instant acceptance of his offer, without
even consulting me, nothing can surprise me in that way after
your general conduct towards me.”


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 41
However, although Mrs. Hannay declined to take any in-
terest in Isobel‘s preparations, and continued to behave as an
injured person, neither she nor Helena were sorry at heart
for the arrangement that had been made. They objected very
strongly to Isobel’s plan of going out as a governess; but,
upon the other hand, her presence at home would in many ways
have been an inconvenience. Two can make a better appear-
ance on a fixed income than three can, and her presence at
home would have necessitated many small economies. She
was, too, a disturbing element; the others understood each
other perfectly, and both felt that they in no way understood
Isobel. Altogether, it was much better that she should go.
As to the heirship, Captain Hannay had spoken freely as
to his monetary affairs when he had been in England after
his brother’s death.
“My pay is amply sufficient for all my wants,” he said;
“but everything is expensive out there, and I have had no
occasion to save. I have a few hundred pounds laid by, so
that if I break down, and-am ordered to Europe at any time on
sick leave, I can live comfortably for that time; but, beyond
that, there has been no reason why I should lay by. I am not
likely ever to marry, and when I have served my full time, my
pension will be ample for my wants in England; but I shall
do my best to help if help is necessary. Fortunately the
interest of the thousand apiece the girls were left by my aunt
will help your income. When it is necessary to do anything
for Robert, poor lad, I will take that expense on myself.”
“I thought all Indians came home with lots of money,”
Mrs. Hannay said complainingly.
“Not the military. \Ve do the fighting, and get fairly paid
for it. The civilians get five times as highly paid, and run no
risks whatever. Why it should be so no one has ever attempted
to explain ; but there it is, sister.”
Mrs. Hannay, therefore, although she complained of the
partiality shown to Isobel, was well aware that the Major’s
savings could amount to no very great sum 3 although, in nine
years, with higher rank and better pay, he might have added
a good bit to the little store of which he had spoken to her.
When, a week before the vessel sailed, Dr. Wade appeared
with a letter he had received from the Major, asking him to
take charge of Isobel on the voyage, Mrs. Hannay conceived
a. violent objection to him. He had, in fact, been by no means
pleased with the commission, and had arrived in an unusually


42 RUJUB, THE jUGGLER.
aggressive and snappish humour. He cut short Mrs. Hannay's
well~turned sentences ruthlessly, and aggrieved her by re-
marking on Helena’s want of colour, and recommending plenty
of walking exercise taken at a brisk pace, and more ease and
comfort in the matter of dress.
“Your daughter’s lungs have no room to play, madam,” he
said; “her heart is compressed. No one can expect to be
healthy under such circumstances.”
“I have my own medical attendant, Dr. \Vade,” Mrs.
Hannay said decidedly.
“No doubt, madam, no doubt. All I can say is, if his
recommendations are not the same as mine, he must be a
downright fool. Very well, Miss Hannay, I think we under-
stand each other; I shall be on board by eleven o’clock, and
shall keep a sharp look-out for you. Don’t be later than
twelve; she will warp out of the dock by one at latest, and if
you miss that your only plan will be to take the train down
to Tilbury, and hire a boat there."
“I shall be in time, sir,” Isobel said.
“Well, I hope you will, but my experience of women is
pretty extensive, and I have scarcely met one who could be
relied upon to keep an appointment punctually. Don’t laden
yourself more than you can help with little bags, and parcels,
'and bundles of all kinds; I expect you will be three or four in
a. cabin, and you will find that there is no room for litter.
Take the things you will require at first in one or two flat
trunks which will stow under your berth; once a. week or so,
if the weather is fine, you will be able to get at your things in
the hold. Do try if possible to pack all the things that you
are likely to want to get at during the voyage in one trunk,
and have a star or any mark you like painted on that trunk
with your name, then there will be no occasion for the sailors
to haul twenty boxes upon deck. Be sure you send all your
trunks on board, except those you want in your cabin, two days
before she sails. Do you think you can remember all that l ”
“I think so, Dr. Wade.”
“ Very well then, I’m ofii,” and the Doctor shook hands with
Isobel, nodded to Mrs. Hannay and Helena, and hurried away.
“What a perfectly detestable little man,” Mrs. Hannay ex-
claimed, as the door closed over him. “Your uncle must have
been out of his senses to select such an odious person to look
after you on the voyage. I really pity you, Isobel.”
“I have no doubt he is very much nicer than he seems,


RUjUB, THE ~YUGGLER. 43
mamma. Uncle said, you know, in his letter last week, that
he had written to Dr. \Vade to look after me, if, as he thought
probable, he might be coming out in the same ship. He said
that he was a little brusque in his manner, but that he was a
general favourite, and one of the kindest hearted of men.”
"A little brusque,” Mrs. Hannay repeated scornfully. “ If
he is only considered a little brusque in India, all I can say is,
society must be in a lamentable state out there.”
“Uncle says he is a great shikari, and has probably killed
more tigers than any man in India.” .
“ I really don’t see that that is any recommendation what-
ever, Isobel, although it might be if you were likely to en-
counter tigers on board ship. However, I am not surprised
that your opinion differs from mine; we very seldom see matters
in the same light. I only hope you may be right and I may
be wrong, for otherwise the journey is not likely to be a very
pleasant one for you; personally, I would almost as soon have
a Bengal tiger loose about the ship than such a very rude, un—
mannerly person as Dr. \Vade.”
Mrs. Hannay and Helena accompanied Isobel to the Docks,
and went on board ship with her.
The Doctor received them at tho gangway. He was in a
better temper, for the fact that he was on the point of start-
ing for India again had put him in high spirits. He escorted
the party below and saw that they got lunch, showed Isobel
which was her cabin, introduced her to two or three ladies of
his acquaintance, and made himself so generally pleasant that
even Mrs. Hannay was mollified.
As soon as luncheon was over the bell was rung, and the
pal-tings were hurriedly got through, as the pilot announced
that the tide was slackening nearly half an hour before its time,
and that it was necessary to get the ship out of dock at once.
“ Now, Miss Hannay, if you will take my advice,” the
Doctor said, as soon as the ship was fairly in the stream,
“ you will go below, get out all the things you will want from
your boxes, and get matters tidy and comfortable. In the
first place, it will do you good to be busy; and in the second
place, there is nothing like getting everything ship-shape in
the cabin the very first thing after starting, then you are
ready for rough weather or anything else that may occur. I
have got you a chair. I thought that very likely you would
not think of it, and a passenger without a chair of her own is
a most forlorn creature, I can tell you. When you have done


1203r UB, THE yUGGLER. 45
Doctor. There was a straightforward frankness about her
that kept men from talking nonsense to her. A compliment
she simply laughed at, an attempt at flattery made her angry,
and the Doctor afterwards declared to her uncle he would not
have believed that the guardianship of a girl upon the long
Indian voyage could possibly have caused him so little trouble
and annoyance.
“When I read your letter, Major, my hair stood on end,
and if my leave had not been up, I should have cancelled my
passage and come by the next ship ,' and indeed when I went
down to see her, I had still by no means made up my mind as
to whether I would not take my chance of getting out in time
by the next vessel. However, I liked her appearance, and, as
1 have said, it turned out excellently, and I should not mind
making another voyage in charge of her.”
CHAPTER V.
Two days after his arrival at Cawnpore, Dr. \Vade moved
into quarters of his own.
“I like Dr. \Vade very much indeed, you know, uncle, still
I am glad to have you all to myself and to settle down into
regular ways.”
“Yes, we have got to learn to know each other, Isobel.”
,“ Do you think so, uncle? Why, it seems to me that I know
all about you, just the same as if we had always been together,
and I am sure I always told you all about myself, even when
I was bad at school and got into scrapes, because you said
particularly that you liked me to tell you everything, and did
not want to know only the good side of me.”
“ Yes, that is so, my dear, and no doubt I have a fair idea
as to what are your strong points and what are your weak
ones, but neither one nor the other affect greatly a person’s
ordinary everyday character. It is the little things, the
trifles, the way of talking, the way of listening, the amount
of sympathy shown, and so on, that make a man or woman
popular. People do not ask whether he or she may be morally
sleeping volcanoes, who, if fairly roused, might slay a rival or
burn a city; they simply look at the surface—is a man or
a woman pleasant, agreeable, easily pleased, ready to take a
share in making things go, to show a certain amount of


46 RUj‘UB, THE jUGGLER.
sympathy in other people’s pleasures or troubles—in fact, to
form a pleasant unit of the society of a station.
“ So in the house you might be the most angelic temper in
the world, but if you were creaky boots, had a habit of slam-
ming doors, little tricks of giggling or fidgeting with your hands
or feet, you would be an unpleasant companion, for you would
be constantly irritating one in small matters. Of course, it is
just the same thing with your opinion of me. You have an
idea that I am a good enough sort of fellow, because I have
done my best to enable you to carry out your plans and wishes,
but that has nothing to do at all with my character as a man
to live with. Till we saw each other, when you got out of
the gharry, we really knew nothing whatever of each other.”
Isobel shook her head decidedly. -
“ Nothing will persuade me that I didn't know everything
about you, uncle. You are just exactly what I knew you
would be in look, and voice, in manner and ways and every-
thing. Of course, it is partly from what I remember, but I
really did not see a. great deal of you in those days ; it is from
your letters, I think, entirely that I knew all about you, and
exactly what you were. Do you mean to say that I am not
just what you thought I should be 1”
“ \Vell, not so clearly as all that, Isobel. Of course you
were only a little child when I saw you, and except that
you had big brown eyes, and long eyelashes, I confess that it
struck me that you were rat-her a plain little thing, and I do
not think that your mother’s letters since conveyed to my
mind the fact that there had been any material change since.
Therefore I own that you are personally quite difi'erent from
what I had expected to find you. I had expected to find you, I
think, rather stumpy in figure, and square in build, with a very
determined and business-like manner.”
“ Nonsense, uncle, you could not have expected that.”
“\Nell, my dear, I did, and you see I find I was utterly
wrong.” i
“ But you are not discontented, uncle 'l” Isobel asked, with
a smile.
“No, my dear, but perhaps not quite so contented as you
may think I ought to be.”
“Why is that, uncle l ”
“ \Vell, my dear, if you had been what I had pictured you,
I might have had you four or five years to myself. Possibly
you might even have gone home with me, to keep house for


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 47
me in England, when I retire. As it is now, I give myself
six months at the outside.”
“What nonsense, uncle. You don’t suppose I am going to
fall in love with the first man who presents himself. \Vhy,
every one says the sea-voyage is a most trying time, and, you
see, I came through that quite scathless. Besides, uncle,” and
she laughed, “there is safety in multitude, and I think that
a girl would be far more likely to fall in love in some country
place, where she only saw one or two men, than where there
are numbers of them. Besides, it seems to me that in India
a girl cannot feel that she is chosen, as it were, from among
other girls as she would do at home. There are so few girls,
and so many men here, there must be a sort of feeling that you
are only appreciated because there is nothing better to be had.
“But, of course, uncle, you can understand that the idea of
love-making and marrying never entered my head at all, until
I went on board a ship. As you know, I always used to think
that Robert and I would live together, and I am quite sure
that I should never have left him if he had lived. If I had
stopped in England I should have done the work I had trained
myself to do, and it might have been years and years, and
perhaps never, before any one might have taken a fancy to
me, or I to him. It seems strange, and I really don’t think
pleasant, uncle, for every one to take it for granted that
because a girl comes out to India she is a. candidate for
marriage. I think it is degrading, uncle.”
“The Doctor was telling me yesterday that you had some
idea of that sort,” the Major said, with a slight smile, “and I
think girls often start with that sort of idea. But it is like
looking on at a game. You don’t feel interested in it until
you begin to play at it. \Vell, the longer you entertain those
ideas the better I shall be pleased, Isobel. I only hope that
you may long remain of the same mind, and that when your
time does come your choice will be a wise one.”
There could be no doubt that the Major’s niece was a great
success in the regiment. Richards and \Vilson, two lads who
had joined six months before, succumbed at once, and mutual
animosity succeeded the close friendship they had hitherto
entertained for each other. Travers, the Senior Captain, a
man who had hitherto been noted for his indifference to the
charms of female society, went so far as to admit that Miss
Hannay was a very nice, unaffected girl. Mrs. Doolan was
quite enthusiastic about her.


48 R0703, THE jUGGLER
“It is very lucky, Jim,” she said to her husband, “that you
were a sober and respected married man before she came out,
and that I am installed here as your lawful and wedded wife
instead of being at Ballycrogin with only an engagement ring
on my finger. I know your susceptible nature ; you would have
fallen in love with her, and she would not have had you, and
we should both of us have been miserable.”
“ How do you know she wouldn’t have had me, Norah ?”
“Because, my dear, she will be able to pick and choose just
where she likes; and though no one recognises your virtues
more than I do, a company in an Indian regiment is hardly
as attractive as a. Residency or Ideutenant-Governorship. But
seriously she is a dear girl, and as yet does not seem to have
the least idea how pretty she is. How cordially some of them
will hate her. I anticipate great fun in looking on. I am out
of all that sort of thing myself.”
“That is news to me, Norah; I think you are just as fond
of a quiet flirtation as you used to be."
“ Just of a very little one, Jim; fortunately not more. So
I can look on complacently ; but even I have suffered. \Vhy,
for weeks not a day has passed without young Richards drop-
ping in for a chat, and when he came in yesterday he could
talk about nothing but Miss Hannay, until I shut him up by
telling him it was extremely bad form to talk to one lady about
another. The boy coloured up till I almost laughed in his
face; in fact, I believe I did laugh.”
“That I will warrant you did, Norah.”
“I could not help it, especially when he assured me he was
perfectly serious about Miss Hannay.”
“You did not encourage him, I hope, Norah."
“No; I told him the Colonel set his face against married
subalterns, and that he would injure himself seriously in his
profession if he were to think of such a thing, and as I knew
he had nothing but his pay, that would be fatal to him.”
Captain Doolan went off into a burst of laughter.
“And he took it all in, Norah? He did not see that you
were humbugging him altogether 1”
“Not a bit of it. They are very amusing, these boys, Jim.
I was really quite sorry for Richards, but I told him he would
get over it in time, for as far as I could learn you had been
just as bad thirty-three times before I finally took pity on
you, and that I only did it then because you were wearing
away with your troubles. I advised him to put the best face


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 49
he could on it, for that Miss Hannay would be the last person
to be pleased, if he were to be going about with a face as long
as if he had just come from his aunt’s funeral.”
The race-meeting came ofi three weeks after Miss Hannay
arrived at Cawnpore. She had been to several dinners and
parties by this time, and began to know most of the regular
residents.
The races served as an excuse for people to come in from
all the stations round. Men came over from Lucknow, Agra,
and Allahabad, and from many a little outlying station ; every
bungalow in the cantonment was filled with guests, and tents
were erected for the accommodation of the overflow.
Several of the oflicers of the ro3rd had horses and ponies
entered in the various races. There was to be a dance at the
club on the evening of the second day of the races, and a
garden party at the General’s on that of the first. Richards
and Wilson had both ponies entered for the race confined
to country tats which had never won a race, and both had
endeavoured to find without success what was Isobel’s favourite
colour.
“But you must have some favourite colour 'I ” \Vilson urged.
“ Why must I, Mr. \Vilson’l One thing is suitable for one
thing and one another, and I always like a colour that is suit-
able for the occasion.”
“But what colour are you going to wear at the races, Miss
Hannay ? ”
“Well, you see, I have several dresses," Isobel said gravely,
“and I cannot say until the morning arrives which I may
wear; it will depend a. good deal how I feel. Besides, I might
object to your wearing the same colour as I do. You re-
member in the old times, knights, when they entered the lists,
were the favours that ladies had given them. Now I have
no idea of giving you a favour. You have done nothing
worthy of it. \Vhen you have won the Victoria Cross, and
distinguished yourself by some extraordinarily gallant action,
it will be quite time to think about it.”
“You see one has to send one’s colour in four days before-
hand, in time for them to print it on the card,” the lad said;
“and besides, one has to get a jacket and cap made.”
“But you don’t reflect that it is quite possible your pony
won't win after all, and supposing that I had colours, I cer—
tainly should not like to see them come in last in the race.
Mr. Richards has been asking me just the same thing, and,
D


5o RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
of course, I gave him the same answer. I can only give you
the advice I gave him."
“ \Vhat was that, Miss Hannay 1” Wilson asked eagerly.
“IVell, you see, it is not very long since either of you left
school, so I should think the best thing for you to wear are
your school colours, whatever they were.”
And with a merry laugh at his look of discomfiture, Isobel
turned away and joined Mrs. Doolan and two or three other
ladies who were sitting with her.
“There is one comfort,” Mrs. Doolan was just saying, “in
this country, when there is anything coming off, there is no
occasion to be anxious as to the weather; one knows that it
will be hot, fine, and dusty. One can wear one’s gayest dress
without fear. In Ireland, one never knew whether one
wanted muslin or waterproof until the morning came, and
even then, one could not calculate with any certainty how it
would be by twelve o’clock. This will be your first Indian
festivity, Miss Hannay.”
“ Do the natives come much '1 "
“I should think so. All Cawnpore will turn out, and we
shall have the Lord of Bithoor and any number of Talookdars
and Zemindars with their suites. A good many of them will
have horses entered, and they have some good ones if they
could but ride them. The Rajah of Bithoor is a most impor-
tant personage. He talks English very well, and gives splen-
did entertainments. He is a most polite gentleman, and is
always over here if there is anything going on. The general
idea is that he has set his mind on having an English wife,
the only difliculty being our objection to polygamy. He has
every other advantage, and his wife would have jewels that a
queen might envy.” .
Isobel laughed. “ I don't think jewels would count for
much in my ideas of happiness.”
“ It is not so much the jewels, my dear, in themselves, but
the envy they would excite in every other woman.”
“I don’t think I can understand that feeling, Mrs. Doolan.
I can understand that there might be a satisfaction in being
envied for being the happiest woman, or the most tastefully
dressed woman, or even the prettiest woman, though that
after all is a mere accident, but not for having the greatest
number of bright stones, however valuable. I don’t think the
most lovely set of diamonds ever seen would give me as much
satisfaction as a few choice flowers.” _


RU] UB, THE 7UGGLER. 5;
“Ah, but that is because you are quite young,” Mrs. Doolan
said. “Eve was tempted by an apple, but Eve had not lived
long. You see, an apple will tempt a child, and flowers a
young girl. Diamonds are the bait of a woman.”
“You would not care for diamonds yourself, Mrs. Doolan 'l”
“ I don’t know, my dear 3 the experiment was never tried—
bog oak and Irish diamonds have been more in my line.
Jim’s pay has never run to diamonds, worse luck, but he has
promised me that if he ever gets a chance of looting the palace
of a native prince, he will keep a special look-out for them
for me. So far he has never had the chance. \Vhen he was
an ensign there was some hard fighting with the Sikhs, but
nothing of that sort fell to his share. I often tell him that he
took me under false pretences altogether. I had visions of
returning some day and astonishing Ballycrogin, as a sort
of begum covered with diamonds; but as far as I can see the
children are the only jewels that I am likely to take back.’ ’
“And very nice jewels too,” Isobel said heartily; “they
are dear little things, Mrs. Doolan, and worth all the diamonds
in the world. I hear, Mrs. Prothero, that your husband has
a good chance of winning the race for Arabs; I intend to
wager several pairs of gloves on his horse.”
“Yes, Seila is very fast. She won last year. But Nana
Sahib has had the horse that won the cup at Poona last year,
and is considered one of the fastest in India, brought across
from Bombay. Our only hope is that he will put a native up,
and in that case we ought to have a fair chance, for the
natives have no idea of riding a waiting race, but go off at
full speed, and take it all out of their horse before the end of
the race.”
“Well, we must hope he will, Mrs. Prothero ; that seems,
from what I hear, the only chance there is of the regiment
winning a prize. So all our sympathies will be with you. ”
“Hunter and his wife and their two girls are coming,” the
Major said, the next morning, as he opened his letters.
“Very well, uncle, then we will do as we arranged. The
Miss Hunters shall have my room, and I will take the little
passage room.”
“I am afraid it will put you out, Isobel; but they have
been here for the last two years at the race-time, and I did
not like not asking them again.”
“Of course, uncle. It will make no difference to me, and
I don’t require any very great space to apparel myself.”


52 RUJUB, THE jUGGLER.
1
“We must have dinners for twelve at least, the day before
the races, and on the three days of the meeting."
Isobel looked alarmed. “I hope you don’t rely on me for
the arrangements, uncle. At each of the four dinners we have
been to I have done nothing but wonder how it was all done,
and have been trembling over the thought that it would be
our turn presently. It seemed a. fearful responsibility ; and
four, one after the other, is an appalling prospect.”
“Rumzan will see to it all, my dear. He has always
managed very well before. I will talk it over with him;
besides, these will not be like regular set dinner—parties. At
race-meetings every one keeps pretty nearly open house. One
does not ask any of the people.at the station ; they have all
their own visitors. One trusts to chance to fill up the table,
and one never finds any difliculty about it. It is lucky I got
up a regular stock of china, and so on, in anticipation of your
coming. Of course, as a bachelor, I have not been a dinner-
giver, except on occasions like this, when nobody expects any-
thing like state, and things are conducted to a certain extent
in picnic fashion. I have paid off my dinner obligations by
having men to mess or the club. However, I will consult
Rumzan, and we will have a regular parade of our materials,
and you shall inspect our resources. If there is anything in
the way of flower-vases or centre-dishes, or anything of that
sort you think requisite, we must get them. Jestonjee has
got a good stock of all that sort of thing. As to tablecloths
and napkins and so on, I had a supply with the china, so you
will find that all right. Of course you will get plenty of
flowers ; they are the principal things, after all, towards
making the table look well. You have had no experience in
arranging them, I suppose 'l ”
“None at all, uncle; I never arranged a. vase of flowers in
my life.”
“Then I tell you what you had better do, Isobel. You
coax the Doctor into coming in and undertaking it. He is
famous in that way. He always has the decoration of the
mess-table on grand occasions ; and when we give a. dance the
flowers and decorations are left to him as a matter of course.”
“I will ask him, uncle; but he is the last man in the
world I should have thought of in connection with flowers
and decorations.”
“He is a many-sided man, my dear; he paints excellently,
and has wonderful taste in the way of dress. I can assure you


RUJUB, THE jUGGLER. 53
that no lady in the regiment is quite satisfied with a new
costume until it has received the stamp of the Doctor’s ap-
proval. 'When we were stationed at Delhi four years ago
there was a fancy ball, and people who were judges of that
sort of thing said that they had never seen so pretty a collec-
tion of dresses, and I should think fully half of them were
manufactured from the Doctor’s sketches.”
“I remember now,” Isobel laughed, “that he was very
sarcastic on board ship as to the dresses of some of the people,
but I thought it was only his way of grumbling at things in
general, though certainly I generally agreed with him. He
told me one day that my taste evidently inclined to the dowdy,
but you see I wore half mourning until I arrived out here.”
The Doctor himself dropped in an hour later.
“ I shall be glad, Doctor, if you will dine with us as often
as you can during the four days of the races,” Major Hannay
said. “ Of course, I shall be doing the hospitable to people who
come in from out-stations, and as Isobel won’t know any of
them, it will be a little trying to her, acting for the first time
in the capacity of hostess. As you know everybody, you will
be able to make things go. I have got Hunter and his wife
and their two girls coming in to stay. I calculate the table
will hold fourteen comfortably enough. At any rate, come
first night, even if you can’t come on the others.”
“Certainly I will, Major, if you will let me bring Bathurst
in with me ; he is going to stay with me for the races.”
“By all means, Doctor; I like what I have seen of him
very much.”
“Yes, he has got a lot in him,” the Doctor said, “ only he
is always head over heels in work. He will make a big mark
before he has done. He is one of the few men out here who
has thoroughly mastered the language; he can talk to the
natives like one of themselves, and understands them so
thoroughly that they are absolutely afraid to lie to him,
which is the highest compliment a native can pay to an
Indian official. It is very seldom he comes in to this sort of
thing, but I seized him the other day and told him that I
could see he would break down if he didn’t give himself a
holiday, and I fairly worried him into saying he would come
over and stay for the races. I believe then he would not
have come if I had not written to him that all the native
swells would be here, and it would be an excellent oppor-
tunity for him to talk to them about the establishment of a


54 RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
school for the daughters of the upper class of natives 3 that is
one of his fads at present.”
“But it would be a good thing surely, Doctor,” Isobel said.
“No doubt, my dear, no doubt; and so would scores of
other things, if you could but persuade the natives so. But
this is really one of the most impracticable schemes possible,
simply because the whole of these unfortunate children get
betrothed when they are two or three years old, and are
married at twelve. Even if all parties were agreed, the
husband’s relations and the wife’s relations and every one else,
what are you going to teach a child worth knowing before she
gets to the age of twelve? Just enough to make her discon-
tented with her lot. Once get the natives to alter their
customs and to marry their women at the age of eighteen,
and you may do something for them; but as long as they
stick to this idiotic custom of marrying them off when they
are still children, the case is hopeless.”
“There is something I wanted to ask you, Doctor,” Isobel
said. “You know this is the first time I have had anything
to do with entertaining, and I know nothing about decorating
a table. Uncle says that you are a great hand at the arrange-
ment of flowers. Would you mind seeing to it for me ‘1”
The Doctor nodded. “ With pleasure, Miss Hannay. It is
a thing I enjoy. There is nothing more lamentable than to
see the ignorant, and I may almost say brutal, way in which
people bunch flowers up into great masses and call that decora-
tion. They might just as well bunch up so many masses of
bright-coloured rags. The shape of the flower, its manner of
growth, and its individuality are altogether lost, and the sole
effect produced is that of a confused mass of colour. I will
undertake that part of the business, and you had better leave
the buying of the flowers to me.”
“Certainly, Doctor,” the Major said ; “I will give you
carie blanche.”
“ \Vell, I must see your dinner service, Major, so that I may
know about its colour, and what you have got to put the
flowers into.”.
“I will have a regular parade to-mormw morning after
breakfast, if it would be convenient for you to look in then,
and at the same time I will get you to have a talk with
Rumzan and the cook. I am almost as new to giving dinner-
parties as Isobel is. When one has half a dozen men to dine
with one at the club, one gives the butler notice and chooses the


RU] UB, THE quGLER. 55
wine, and one knows that it will be all right; but it is a very
different thing when you have to go into the details yourself.
Ordinarily I leave it entirely to Rumzan and the cook, and I
am bound to say they do very well, but this is a different matter.”
“ We will talk it over with them together, Major. You can
seem to consult me, but it must come from you to them, or else
you .will be getting their backs up. Thank goodness, Indian
servants don’t give themselves the airs English ones do; but
human nature is a good deal the same everywhere, and the
first great rule, if you want any domestic arrangements to go
05 well, is to keep the servants in good temper.”
“ \Ve none of us like to be interfered with, Doctor.”
“A wise man is always ready to be taught,” the Doctor
said sententiously.
“ Well, there are exceptions, Doctor. I remember, soon after
I joined, a man blew ofl two of his fingers. A young surgeon
who was here wanted to amputate the hand ; he was just going
to set about it when a stafi surgeon came in and said that it
had better not be done, for that natives could not stand
amputations. The young surgeon was very much annoyed.
The staff surgeon went away next day. There was a good deal
of inflammation, and the young surgeon decided to amputate.
The man never rallied from the operation, and died next day.”
“ I said, Major, that a wise man was always ready to listen
to good advice. I was not a. wise man in those days—I was a
pig-headed young fool. I thought I knew all about it, and I
was quite right according to my experience in London hospitals
In the case of an Englishman, the hand would have been
amputated, and the man would have been all right three weeks
afterwards. But I knew nothing about these soft-hearted
Hindoos, and never dreamt that an operation which would be
a trifle to an Englishman would be fatal to one of them, and
that simply because, although they are plucky enough in some
respects, they have no more heart than a mouse when anything
is the matter with them. Yes, if it hadn’t been for the old
Colonel, who gave me a private hint to say nothing about the
affair, but merely to put down in my report, ‘ Died from the
effect of a gunshot wound,’ I should have got into a deuce of a
scrape over that affair. As it was, it only cost me a hundred
rupees to satisfy the man’s family and send them back to their
native village. That was for years a. standing joke against me,
Miss Hannay ; except your uncle and the Colonel, there is no
one left in the regiment who was there, but it was a sore subject


56 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
for a long time. Still, no doubt, it was a useful lesson, and
my rule has been ever since, never amputate except as a forlorn
hope, and even then don’t amputate, for if you do the relatives
of the man, as far as his fourth cousins, will inevitably regard you
as his murderer. \Vell, I must be ofl’ ; I will look in to-morrow
morning, Major, and make an inspection of your resources.”
“I am glad to see the Hunters are going to bring over
their carriage,” the Major said, two days later, as he looked
through a. letter. “I am very glad of that, for I put it off
till too late. I have been trying everywhere for the last two
days to hire one, but they are all engaged, and have been
so for weeks, I hear. I was wondering what I should do,
for my buggy will only hold two. I was thinking of asking
Mrs. Doolan if she could take one of the Miss Hunters, and
should have tried to find a place for the other. But this
settles it all comfortably. They are going to send on their
own horses half way the day before, and hire native ponies for
the first half. They have a good large family vehicle; I hoped
that they would bring it, but, of course, I could not trust to it.” 1
The Doctor presently dropped in with Captain Doolan.
After chatting for some time the former said, “I have had
the satisfaction this morning, Miss Hannay, of relieving Mrs.
Cromarty’s mind of a great burden.”
“ How was that, Doctor 'l ”
“It was in relation to you, my dear.”
“Me, Doctor! how could I have been a weight on Mrs.
Cromarty’s mind 1”
“She sent for me under the pretence of being feverish;
said she had a headache, and so on. Her pulse was all right,
and I told her at once I did not think there was much the
matter with her ; but I recommended her to keep out of the
sun for two days. Then she begun a chat about the station.
She knows that, somehow or other, I generally hear all that
is going on. I wondered what was coming till she said
casually, ‘Do you know what arrangement Major Hannay
has made as to his niece for the races'l’ I said, of course,
that the Hunters were coming over to stay. I could see at
once that her spirit was instantly relieved of a heavy burden,
but she only said, ‘ Of course, then, that settles the question.
I had intended to send across to her this morning, to ask if
she would like a seat in my carriage; having no lady with
her, she could not very well have gone to the races alone.
Naturally, I should have been very pleased to have had her


R0703, THE jUGGLER. 57
with us. However, as Mrs. Hunter will be staying at the
Major’s, and will act as her chaperon, the matter is settled.’ ”
“ Well, I think it was very kind of her thinking of it," Isobel
said, “ and I don’t think it is nice of you, Doctor, to say that
it was an evident relief to her when she found I had some one
else to take care of me. \Vhy should it have been a relief 'I ”
“I have no doubt it has weighed on her mind for the last
fortnight,” the Doctor said; “she must have seen that as
you were freshly joined, and the only unmarried girl in the
regiment, except her own daughters, it was only the proper
thing she should offer you a seat in her carriage. No
doubt she decided to put it off as late as possible, in hopes
that you might make some other arrangement. Had you not
done so, she might have done the heroic thing and invited
you, though I am by no means sure of it. Of course, now
she will say the first time she meets you that she was quite
disappointed at having heard from me that Mrs. Hunter
would be with you, as she had hoped to have the pleasure of
having you in her carriage with her.”
“ But why shouldn’t she like it?” Isobel said indignantly.
“ Surely I am not as disagreeable as all that l Come, Doctor ! ”
Captain Doolan laughed, while the Doctor said, “It is just
the contrary, my dear; I am quite sure that if you were in
Mrs. Cromarty’s place, and had two tall, washed-out looking
daughters, you would not feel the slightest desire to place Miss
Hannay in the same carriage with them.”
“I call that very disagreeable of you, Doctor,” Isobel said,
flushing, “and I shall not like you at all if you take such
unkind and malicious views of people. I don’t suppose such
an idea ever entered into Mrs. Cromarty’s head, and even if it
did, it makes it all the kinder that she should think of offering
me a seat. I do think most men seem to consider that women
think of nothing but looks, and that girls are always trying
to attract men, and mothers always thinking of getting their
daughters married. It is not at all nice, Doctor, to have
such ideas, and I shall thank Mrs. Cromarty warmly, when
I see her, for her kindness in thinking about me.”
Accordingly, that afternoon,when they met at the usual hour,
when the band was playing, Isobel went up to the Colonel's wife.
“I want to thank you, Mrs. Cromarty. Dr. Wade has
told me that you had intended to offer me a. seat in your
carriage to the races. It was very kind and nice of you to
think of me, and I am very much obliged to you. I should


5s RU} UB, THE jUGGLER.
have enjoyed it very much if it hadn’t been that Mrs. Hunter
is coming to stay with us, and, of course, I shall be under
her wing. Still, I am just as much obliged to you for having
thought of it.”
Mrs.Cromarty was pleased with the girl’s warmth and man-
ner, and afterwards mentioned to several of her friends that she
thought that Miss Hannay seemed a. very nice young woman.
“I was not quite favourably impressed at first,” she ad-
mitted. “She has the misfortune of being a little brusque
in her manner, but, of course, her position is a difficult one,
being alone out here, without any lady with her, and no doubt
she feels it so. She was quite touchingly grateful, only
because I offered her a seat in our carriage for the races,
though she was unable to accept it, as the Major will have
the Hunters staying with him."
. CHAPTER VI.
Tun club-house at Cawnpore was crowded on the evening
before the races. Up to eleven o’clock it had been compara-
tivel y deserted, for there was scarcely a bungalow in the station
at which dinner-parties were not going on 3 but, after eleven,
the gentlemen for the most part adjourned to the club for
a smoke, a rubber, or game of billiards, or to chat over the
racing events of the next day.
Loud greetings were exchanged as each fresh contingent
arrived, for many newcomers had come into the station only
that afternoon. Every table in the whist-room was occupied,
black pool was being played in the billiard-room upstairs,
where most of the younger men were gathered, while the elders
smoked and talked in the rooms below.
“ What will you do, Bathurst 'l " the Doctor asked his guest,
after the party from the Major’s had been chatting for some
little time downstairs. “ \Vould you like to cut in at a rubber
or take a ball at pooll ”
“Neither, Doctor; they are both accomplishments beyond
me; I have not patience for whist, and I can’t play billiards
in the least. I have tried over and over again, but I am too
nervous, I fancy ,' I break down over the easiest stroke—in fact,
an easy stroke is harder for me than a diflicult one. I know I
ought to make it, and just for that reason, I suppose, I don’t.”


RUj’UB, THE YUGGLER. 59
“ You don’t give one the idea of a nervous man either,
Bathurst.”
“Well, I am, Doctor, constitutionally, indeed terribly so.”
“Not in business matters, anyhow,” the Doctor said, with a
smile. “You have the reputation of not minding in the
slightest what responsibility you take upon yourself, and of
carrying out'what you undertake in the most resolute, I won’t
say- high'handed, manner.”
“ N 0, it doesn’t come in there,” Bathurst laugh ed. “ Morally
I am not nervous so far as I know, physically I am. I would
give a great deal if I could get over it, but, as I have said, it
is constitutional.”
“Not on your father’s side, Bathurst. I knew him well,
and he was a very gallant officer. ’
“No, it was the other side,” Bathurst said; “I will tell
you about it some day.”
At this moment another friend of Bathurst’s came up and
entered into conversation with him.
“ Well, I will go upstairs to the billiard-room,” the Doctor
said; “and you will find me there, Bathurst, whenever you
feel disposed to go.”
A pool had just finished when the Doctor entered the
billiard-room.
“ That is right, Doctor, you are just in time,” Prothero said,
as he entered. “Sinclair has given up his cue; he is going
to ride to-morrow, and is afraid of shaking his nerves; you
must come and play for the honour of the corps. I am being
ruined altogether, and Doolan has retired discomfited.”
“I have not touched a cue since I went away,” the Doctor
said, “but I don’t mind adding to the list of victims. \Vho
are the winners?”
“ Messenger and Jarvis have been carrying all before them ,-
there is a report they have just sent off two club waiters, with
loads of rupees, to their quarters. Scarsdale has been pretty
well holding his own, but the rest of us are nowhere.”
A year’s want of practice, however, told, and the Doctor
was added to the list of victims: he had no difficulty in
getting some one else to take his cue after playing for half
an hour.
“It shows that practice is required for everything,” he
said; “before I went away I could have given each of those
men a. life, now they could give me two; I must devote half
an hour a. day to it till I get it back again.”


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 61
\
to get into mischief and go to the bad after an affair of that
sort. It gives him a high ideal, and if he is worth anything
he will try to make himself worthy of her, and the good it
does him will continue even after the charm is broken.”
“What a fellow you are, Doctor,” Captain Doolan said,
looking down upon his companion, “talking away like that
in the middle of this racket, which would be enough to bother
Saint Patrick himself.”
“ Well, come along downstairs, Doolan ; we will have a final
peg and then be 05 ; I expect Bathurst is beginning to fidget
before now.”
“ It will do him good,” Captain Doolan said disdainfully. “I
have no patience with a man who is for ever working himself to
death, riding about the country as if Old Nick were behind him,
and never giving himself a minute for diversion of any kind.
Faith, I would rather throw myself down a well and have done
with it, than work ten times as hard as a black nigger.”
“ \Vell, I don’t think, Doolan,” the Doctor said drily, “you
are ever likely to be driven to suicide by any such cause.”
“You are right there, Doctor," the other said contentedly.
“No man can throw it in my teeth that I ever worked when
I had no occasion to work. If there were a campaign, I expect
I could do my share with the best of them, but in quiet times
I just do what I have to do, and if any one has an anxiety to
take my place in the rota for duty, he is as welcome to it as
the flowers of May. I had my share of it when I was a
subaltern ; there is no better fellow living than the Major, but
when he was Captain of my Company he used to keep me on
the run by the hour together, till I wished myself back in
Connaught, and any one who liked it might have had the whole
of India for anything I cared," he was one of the most uneasy
creatures I ever came across.”
“The Major is a good ofiicer, Doolan, and you were as lazy
a youngster, and as hard a bargain, as the Company ever got.
You ought to thank your stars that you had the good luck in
having a Captain who knew his business, and made you learn
yours. IVhy, if you had had a man like Rintoul as your
Captain, you would never have been worth your salt.”
“ You are not complimentary, Doctor; but then nobody
looks for compliments from you.”
“I can pay compliments if I have a chance,” the Doctor re-
torted, “but it is very seldom I get one of doing so—at least,
without lying. Well, Bathurst, are you ready to turn in 'l ”


R07 UB, THE jUGGLER. 63
station,” Captain Doolan said, “if they would make our pay a.
little more like that of the civilians.”
“There is something in that, Doolan,” the Doctor agreed ;
“it is just as hard work having nothing to do as it is having
too much; and I have always been of opinion that the tre-
mendous disproportion between the pay of a military man and
of a civilian of the same age is simply monstrous. \Vell, good-
night, Doolan ; I hope you will tell Mrs. Doolan that the credit
is entirely due to me that you are home at the reasonable hour
of one o’clock, instead of dropping in just in time to change
for parade."
“A good fellow,” the Doctor said, as he walked on with
Bathurst ; “he would never set the Thames on fire; but he
is an honest, kindly fellow. He would make a capital officer
if we were on service. His marriage has been an excellent
thing for him. He had nothing to do before but to pass away
his time in the club or mess-house, and drink more than was
good for him. But he has pulled himself round altogether
since he married. His wife is a bright, clever little woman,
and knows how to make the house happy for him ; if he had
married a lackadaisical sort of woman, the betting is he would
have gone to the bad altogether.”
“I only met him once or twice before,” Bathurst said;
“ You see I am not here very often, and when I am it is only
on business, so I know a very few people here except those I
have to deal with, and by the time I have got through my
business I am generally so thoroughly out of temper with the
pig-headed stupidity and obstinacy of people in general, that
I get into my buggy and drive straight away.”
“I fancy you irritate them as much as they irritate you,
Bathurst. \Vell, here we are; new we will have a quiet
cheroot and a peg, to quiet our nerves after all that din, before
we turn in. Let us get off our coats and collars, and make
ourselves comfortable; it is a proof of the bestial stupidity of
mankind that they should wear such abominations as dress-
clothes in a climate like this. Here, boy, light the candles
and bring two sodas and brandies.”
“ \Vell, Bathurst,” he went on, when they had made them-
selves comfortable in two lounging chairs, “ what do you
think of Miss Hannay 'l ”
“ I was prepared to admire her, Doctor, from what you
said ; it is not very often that you overpraise things; but she
is a charming girl, very pretty and bright, frank and natural.”


64 RUj‘UB, THE j'UGGLER.
“She is all that,” the Doctor said. “ ‘Ve were four months
on the voyage out, and I saw enough of her in that time to
know her pretty thoroughly."
“What puzzles me about her,” Bathurst said, “ is that I
seem to know her face. \Vhere I saw her, and under what
circumstances, I have been puzzling myself half the evening to
recall, but I have the strongest conviction that I have met her."
“You are dreaming, man. You have been out here eight
years; she was a child of ten when you left England. You
certainly have not seen her, and as I know pretty well every
woman who has been in this station for the last five or six
years, I can answer for it that you have not seen any one in
the slightest degree resembling her.”
“ That is what I have been saying to myself, Doctor, but that
does not in the slightest degree shake my conviction about it."
“ Then you must have dreamt it,” the Doctor said de-
cidedly. “Some fool of a poet has said, ‘Visions of love cast
their shadows before,’ or something of that sort, which of course
is a lie; still, that is the only way that I can account for it."
Bathurst smiled faintly. “I don’t think the quotation is
quite right, Doctor; anyhow, I am convinced that the im-
pression is far too vivid to have been the result of a dream.” '
“ By the way, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, suddenly chang-
ing his conversation, “ what do you think of this talk we hear
about chupaties being sent round among the native troops,
and the talk about greased cartridges. You see more of the
natives than any one I know; do you think there is anything
brewing in the air 'l ”
“If there is, Doctor, I am certain it is not known to the
natives in general. I see no change whatever in their
manner, and I am sure I know them well enough to notice
any change if it existed. I know nothing about the Sepoys,
but Garnet tells me that the Company at Deennugghur give
him nothing to complain of, though they don’t obey orders as
smartly as usual, and they have a. sullen air as they go about
their work.” _
“I don’t like it, Bathurst. I do not understand what the
chupaties mean, but I know that there is a sort of tradition
that the sending of them round has always preceded trouble.
The Sepoys have no reason for discontent, but there has been
no active service lately, and idleness is always had for men.
I can’t believe there is any widespread dissatisfaction among
them, but there is no doubt whatever that if there is, and it


RU} UB, THE j’UGGLER. 65
breaks out, the position will be a very serious one. There are
not half enough white troops in India, and the Sepoys may
well think that they are masters of the situation. It would
be a terrible time for every one in India if they did take it
into their heads to rise.”
“I can’t believe they would be mad enough to do that,
Doctor; they have everything to lose by it, and nothing to
gain, that is individually; and we should be sure to win in
the long run, even if we had to conquer back India foot by
foot."
“That is all very well, Bathurst; we may know that we could
do it, but they don’t know it. They are ignorant altogether
of the forces we could put into the field were there a necessity
to make the effort. They naturally suppose that we can have
but a few soldiers, for in all the battles we have fought there
have always been two or three Sepoy regiments to one English.
Besides, they consider themselves fully a match for us. They
have fought by us side by side in every battlefield in India,
and have done as well as we have. I don’t see what they
should rise for. I don't even see whose interest it is to bring
a rising about, but I do know that if they rise we shall have
a terrible time of it. Now I think we may as well turn in.
You won’t take another peg‘l \Vell, I shall see you in the
morning. I shall be at the hospital by half-past six, and shall
be in at half-past eight to breakfast. You have only got to
shout for my man, and tell him whether you will have tea,
coffee, or chocolate, any time you wake.”
“I shall be about by six, Doctor; five is my general hour,
but as it is past one now, I dare say I shall be able to sleep
on for an hour later, especially as there is nothing to do.”
“You can go round the hospital with me if you like,” the
Doctor said, “if you will promise not to make a dozen
suggestions for the improvement of things in general.”
Isobel Hannay came down to breakfast in high spirits on
the morning of the races. The dinner had gone off excellently.
The dinner-table, with its softly shaded lamps, and the Doctor’s
arrangement of the flowers, had been, she thought, perfection,
and everything had passed off without a hitch. Her duties
as a hostess had been much lighter than she had anticipated.
Mrs. Hunter was a very pleasant, motherly woman, and the
girls, who had only come out from England four months before,
were fresh and unaffected, and the other people had all been
pleasant and chatty.
E


RUj‘UB, THE j’UGGLER. 67
of the ro3rd and other regiments. On the opposite side were
a number of native vehicles of various descriptions, and some
elephants with painted faces and gorgeous trappings, and with
howdahs shaded by pavilions glittering with gilt and silver.
On either side of their vehicle a long line of carriages was
soon formed up, and among these were several occupied by
gain dressed natives, whose rank gave them entrance to the
privileged encl0sure. The carriages were placed three or four
yards back from the rail, and the intervening space was filled
with civilian and military officers, in white or light attire, and
with pith helmet or puggaree ; many others were on horseback
behind the carriages.
“It is a bright scene, Miss Hannay,” the Doctor said,
coming up to the carriage.
“ Wonderful pretty, Doctor 1 ”
“An English racecourse doesn’t do after this, I can tell
you. I went down to the Derby when I was at home. and
such an assembly of ril‘f-rat'f I neverrsaw before and never wish
to see again.”
“These people are _more picturesque, Dr. \Vade,” Mrs.
Hunter said, “but that is merely a Question of garment ,-
tbese people perhaps are no more trustworthy than those
you met on the racecourse at home.”
“ I was speaking of them purely as a spectacle ; individually
I have no doubt one would be safer among the English roughs
and betting men than among these placid-looking natives.
The one would pick your pockets of every penny you have got
if they had the chance, the other would cut your throat with
just as little compunction.”
“ You don’t really mean that, Dr. \Vade l ” Isobel said.
“I do indeed, Miss Hannay; the Oude men are notorious
brawlers and fighters, and I should say that the roughs of
Cawnpore and Lucknow could give long odds to those of any
European city, and three out of four of those men you see walk-
ing about there, would not only cut the throat of a European
to obtain what money he had about him, but would do so without
that incentive, upon the simple ground that he hated us.”
“But why should he hate us, Doctor? he is none the worse
ofl’ now than he was before we annexed the country.”
“Well, yes, that class of man is worse off. In the old days
every noble and Zemindar kept up a little army for the purpose
of fighting his neighbours, just as our Barons used to do in the
happy olden times people talk of. We have put down private


RUyUB, THE 7UGGLER. 69
Again Isobel raised the glasses. “You are right, Doctor,”
she said, “I don’t like him.”
“Well, there is one comfort, it doesn’t matter whether he
is sincere or not, he is powerless to hurt us. I don’t see any
motive for his pretending to be friendly if he is not, but I
own that I should like him better if he sulked and would have
nothing to say to us, as would be the natural course.”
The bell now began to ring, and the native police cleared
the course. Major Hannay and Mr. Hunter, who had driven
over in the bugg ', came up and took their places on the box
of the carriage.
“ Here are cards of the races,” he said. “Now is the time,
young ladies, to make your bets.”
“I don’t know even the name of any one in this first race,”
Isobel said, looking at the card.
“That doesn’t matter in the least, Miss Hannay,” Wilson,
who had just come up to the side of the carriage, said. “There
are six horses in; you pick out any one you like, and I will
lay you five pairs of gloves to one against him."
“But how am I to pick out when I don’t know anything
about them, Mr. \Vilson'l I might pick out one that had no
chance at all.”
“Yes; but you might pick out the favourite, Miss Hannay,
so that it is quite fair.”
“ Don’t you bet, Isobel,” her uncle said. “Let us have a
sweepstake instead.”
“ What is a sweepstake, uncle '1”
There was a general laugh.
“Well, my dear, we each put in a rupee. There are six of
us, and there are \Vilson and the Doctor. You will go in,
Doctor, won’t you '1 "
“ Yes; I don’t mind throwing away a rupee, Major.”
“Very well, that makes eight. \Ve put eight pieces of
paper in the hat. Six of them have got the names of the
horses on, the other two are blank. Then we each pull out
one. Whoever draws the name of the horse that wins takes
five rupees, the holder of the second two, and the third saves
his stake. You shall hold the stakes, Mrs. Hunter. We
have all confidence in you.”
The slips were drawn.
“My horse is Bruce,” Isobel said.
“There he is, Miss Hannay,” \Vilson, who had drawn a blank,
said, asa horse whose rider had a straw-coloured jacket and


7o RUYUB THE yUGGLER.
cap came centering along the course. “This is a. race for
country horses -—owners up. That means ridden by their
owners. That is Pearson of the 13th Native Cavalry. He
brought the horse over from Lucknow.”
“ \Vhat chance has he 1 ”
“I have not the least idea, Miss Hannay. I did not hear
any betting on this race at all.”
“ That is a nice horse, uncle,” Isobel said, as one with a rider
in black jacket, with red cap, came past.
“That is Delhi. Yes, it has good action.”
“That is mine,” the eldest Miss Hunter said.
“ The rider is a good-looking young fellow," the Doctor said,
“and is perfectly conscious of it himself. Who is he, \Vilson 'l
I don’t know him.”
“He is a civilian. Belongs to the public Works, I think.”
The other horses now came along, and after short pre-
liminary centers the start was made. To Isobel‘s disappoint-
ment, her horse was never in the race, which Delhi looked
like winning until near the post, when a rather common7
looking horse, which had been lying a short distance behind
him, came up with a rush and won by a length.
“I don’t call that fair," Miss Hunter said, “when the other
was first all along. I call that a mean way of winning, don’t
you, father?”
--“ Well, no, my dear. It was easy to see for thelast quarter
of a. mile that the other was making what is called a ‘ waiting
race’ of it, and was only hiding his time. There is nothing
unfair in that. I fancy Delhi might have won if he had had
a better jockey. His rider never really called upon him till
it was too late. He was so thoroughly satisfied with himself
and his position in the race, that he was taken completely by
surprise when Moonshee came suddenly up to him.”
“ Well, I think it is very hard upon Delhi, father, after
keeping ahead all the way and going so nicely. I think
everyone ought to do their best from the first.”
“I fancy you are thinking, Miss Hunter,” the Doctor said,
“ quite as much that it is hard on you being beaten after your
hopes had been raised, as it is upon the horse."
“Perhaps I am, Doctor,” she admitted.
“I think it is much harder on me,” Isobel said. “ You
have had the satisfaction of thinking all along that your
horse was going to win, while mine never gave me the least
bit of hope.”


R0703, THE jUGGLER. 71
“The proper expression, Miss Hannay, is, your horse never
flattered you.”
“Then I think it is a very silly expression, Mr. \Vilson,
because I don’t see that flattery has anything to do with it."
“Ah, here is Bathurst,” the Doctor said. “\Vhere have
you been, Bathurst? You slipped away from me just now.”
“I have just been talking to the Commissioner, Doctor.
I have been trying to get him to see—”
“Why, you don’t mean to say,” the Doctor broke in; “ that
you have been trying to cram your theories down his throat
on a racecourse l ” '
“ It was before the race began,” Bathurst said, “and I
don’t think the Commissioner has any more interest in racing
than I have."
“Not in racing,” the Doctor agreed, “but I expect he has
an interest in enjoying himself generally, which is a thing you
don’t seem to have the most remote idea. of. Here we are just
getting up a sweepstake for the next race 3 hand over a. rupee
and try to get up an interest in it. Do try and forget your
work till the race is over. I have brought you here to do you
good. I regard you as my patient, and I give you my medical
orders that you are to enjoy yourself.”
Bathurst laughed.
“I am enjoying myself in my way, Doctor.”
“Who is that very pretty woman standing up in the next
carriage but one,” Isobel asked.
“She comes from an outstation,” the Doctor repeated ; “ she
is the wife of the Collector there, but I think she likes Cawn-
pore better than Boorgum; her name is Rose.”
“Is that her husband talking to her 'i "
“No; that is a. man in the Artillery here, I think.”
“Yes,” the Major said, “that is Harrowby, a good-looking
fellow, and quite a. ladies’ man."
“Do you mean a man ladies like, uncle, or who likes the
society of ladies ’i"
“ Both in his case, I should fancy,” the Major said 3 “ I believe
he is considered one of the best-looking men in the service.”
“I don’t see why he should be liked for that,” Isobel said.
“As far as I have seen, good-looking men are not so pleasant
as others. I suppose it is because they are conscious of their
own good looks, and therefore do not take the trouble of being
amusing. We had one very good-looking man on board ship,
and he was the dullest man to talk to on board. N 0, Doctor,


72 RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
I won’t have any names mentioned, but I am right, am
I not? ”
“He was a dull specimen, certainly,” the Doctor said, “but
I think you are a little too sweeping.”
“ I don’t mean all good-looking men, of course, but men who
what I call go in for being good-looking. I don’t know whether
you know what I mean. \Vhat are you smiling at, Mr. Wilson?”
“I was thinking of two or three men I know to whom your
description applies, Miss Hannay ; but I must be going—they
are just going to start the next race, and mine is the one after,
so I must go and get ready. You wish me success, don’t you 'I ”
“ I wish you all the success you deserve. I can't say more
than that, can I 'l”
“I am afraid that is saying very little," he laughed. “I
don’t expect to win, but I do hope I shall beat Richards,
because he is so cock-sure he will beat me.”
This wish was not gratified. The first and second horses made
a close race of it ; behind them by ten or twelve lengths came
the other horses in a clump, \Vilson and Richards singling
themselves out in the last hundred yards and making a despe-
rate race for the third place, for which they made a dead heat,
amid great laughter from their comrades.
“That is excellent,” Major Hannay said; “you won’t see
anything more amusing than that to-day, girls. The third
horse simply saved his stake, so that as they will of course
divide, they will have paid twenty-five rupees each for the
pleasure of riding, and the point which of their tats is the
fastest remains unsettled.”
“Well, they beat a good many of them, Major Hannay,”
Miss Hunter said; “ so they did not do so badly after all."
“ Oh no, they did not do so badly; but it will be a long
time before they get over the chaff about their desperate
struggle for the third place.”
The next two races attracted but slight attention from the
occupants of the carriage. Most of their acquaintances in the
station came up one after the other for a chat. There were
many fresh introductions, and there was so much conversation
and laughter that the girls had little time to attend to what
was going on around them. \Vilson and Richards both saun-
tered up after changing, and were the subject of much chafl’
as to their brilliant riding at the finish. Both were firm in
the belief that the judge’s finding was wrong, and each main-
tained stoutly he had beaten the other by a good head.


RUYUB, THE jUGGLER. 73
The race for Arabs turned out a very exciting one; the
Rajah of Bithoor’s horse was the favourite, on the strength of
its performances elsewhere ; but Prothero’s horse was also well
supported, especially in the regiment, for the Adjutant was a.
first-class rider, and was in great request at all the principal
meetings in Oude and the N orth-West Provinces, while it was
known that the Rajah’s horse would be ridden by a native.
The latter was dressed in strict racing costume, and had at the
last races at Cawnpore won two or three cups for the
But the general opinion among the officers of the station
was that Prothero’s coolness and nerve would tell. His Arab
was certainly a fast one, and had won the previous year, both
at Cawnpore and Lucknow ; but the Rajah’s new purchase had
gained so high a reputation in the Western Presidency as fully
to justify the odds of two to one laid on it, while four to one
were offered against Prothero, and from eight to twenty to
one against any other competitor.
Prothero had stopped to have a chat at the Hunters’ carriage
as he walked towards the dressing-tent.
“Our hopes are all centred in you, Mr. Prothero,” Mr.
Hunter said. “ Miss Hannay has been wagering gloves in a
frightfully reckless way.”
“I should advise you to hedge if you can, Miss Hannay,”
he said. “I think there is no doubt the Mameluke is a good
deal faster than Seila. I fancy he is pounds better. I only
beat Vincent’s horse by a. head last year, and Mameluke gave
him seven pounds, and beat him by three lengths at Poona.
So I should strongly advise you to hedge your bets if you can.”
“What does he mean by hedge, uncle? ”
“To hedge is to bet the other way, so that one bet cancels
the other.”
“Oh, I shan’t do that,” she said ; “ I have enough money to
pay my bets if I lose.”
“ Do you mean to say you mean to pay your bets if you lose,
Miss Hannay 1” the Doctor asked incredulously.
“Of course I do,” she said indignantly. “You don’t suppose
I intend to take the gloves if I win, and not to pay if I lose 'l ”
“ It is not altogether an uncommon practice among ladies,”
the Doctor said, “ when they bet against gentlemen. I believe
that when they wager against each other, which they do not
often do, they are strictly honest, but that otherwise their
memories are apt to fail them altogether.”
“That is a libel, Mrs. Hunter, is it not?”


74 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
“Not altogether, I think. Of course many ladies do pay
their bets when they lose, but others certainly do not."
“Then I call it very mean,” Isobel said earnestly. “ \Vhy,
it is as bad as asking any one to make you a present of so many
pairs of gloves in case a certain horse wins.”
“It comes a good deal to the same thing,” Mrs. Hunter
admitted, “ but to a certain extent it is a recognised custom;
it is a sort of tribute that is exacted at race time, just as in
France every lady expects a present from every gentleman
of her acquaintance on New Year’s Day.”
“I wouldn’t bet if I didn’t mean to pay honestly,” Isobel
said. “And if Mr. Prothero doesn’t win, my debts will all be
honourably discharged.”
There was a hush of expectation in the crowd when the ten
horses whose numbers were up went down to the starting-point,
a quarter of a mile from the stand. They were to pass it, make
the circuit, and finish there, the race being two miles. The
interest of the natives was enlisted by the fact that Nana
Sahib was running a horse, while the hopes of the occupants
of the enclosure rested principally on Seila.
The flag fell to a good start ; but when the horses came along
Isobel saw with surprise that the dark blue of the Rajah and
the Ad jutant’s scarlet and white were both in the rear of the
group. Soon afterwards the scarlet seemed to be making its
way through the horses, and was speedily leading them.
“Prothero is making the running with a vengeance,” the
Major said. “That is not like his usual tactics, Doctor.”
“ I fancy he knows what he is doing,” the Doctor replied.
“ He saw that Mameluke’s rider was going to make a waiting
race of it, and as the horse has certainly the turn of speed on
him, he is trying other tactics. They are passing the mile post
now, and Prothero is twelve or fourteen lengths ahead. There,
Mameluke is going through his horses; his rider is beginning
to get nervous at the lead Prothero has got, and he can’t stand
it any longer. He ought to have waited for another half mile.
You will see, Prothero will win after all. Seila can stay, there
is no doubt about that.”
A roar of satisfaction rose from the mass of natives on the
other side of the enclosure as Mameluke was seen to leave the
group of horses and gradually to gain upon Seila.
“Oh, he will catch him, uncle!” Isobel said, tearing her
handkerchief in her excitement.
The Major was watching the horses through his field-glass.


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Seila a length ahead.


R0703, THE j’UGGLER. ‘ 7;
“Never mind his catching him,” he said; “Prothero is riding
quietly and steadily. Seila is doing nearly her best, but he is
not hurrying her, while the fool on Mameluke is bustling the
horse as if he had only a hundred yards further to go."
The horses were nearing the point at which they had started,
when a. shout from the crowd proclaimed that the blue jacket
had come up to and passed the scarlet. Slowly it forged ahead
until it was two lengths in advance, for a few strides their
relative positions remained unaltered, then there was a shout
from the carriages; scarlet was coming up again. Mameluke’s
rider glanced over his shoulder, and began to use the whip.
For a few strides the horse widened the gap again, but Pro-
thero still sat quiet and unmoved. Just as they reached the
end of the line of carriages, Seila again began to close up.
“ Seila wins I Seila wins ! ” the officers shouted.
But it seemed to Isobel that this was well-nigh impossible,
but foot by foot the mare came up, and as they passed the
Hunters’ carriage, her head was in advance.
In spite of the desperate efforts of the rider of Marneluke,
another hundred yards and they passed the winning post, Seila
a. length ahead.
CHAPTER VII.
Tnn exultation of the oflicers of the 103111 over Seila’s victory
was great. They had all backed her, relying upon Prothero’s
riding, but although his success was generally popular among
the Europeans at the station, many had lost considerable sums
by their confidence in Mameluke’s speed.
Isobel sat down feeling quite faint from the excitement.
“I did not think I could have been so excited over a race
between two horses,” she said to Mrs. Hunter; “it was not
the bets, I never even thought about them—~it was just be-
cause I wanted to see Mr. Prothero’s horse win. I never
understood before why people should take such an interest in
horse-racing, but I quite understand now.”
“What is your size, Miss Hannay 'I” \Vilson asked.
“Oh, I don’t care anything about the gloves, Mr. Wilson;
I am sorry I bet now.”
“You needn’t feel any compunction in taking them from
me or from any of us, Miss Hannay; we have all won over
Seila; the regiment will have to give a ball on the strength


76 RUj’UB, THE YUGGLER.
of it. I only put on a. hundred rupees, and so have won four
hundred, but most of them have won ever so much more than
that; and allI have lost is four pair of gloves to you, and four
to Mrs. Doolan, and four to Mrs. Prothero—a dozen in all.
Which do you take, white or cream, and what is your size ? ”
“ Six and a half, cream.”
“All right, Miss Hannay. The Nana must have lost a
good lot of money ; he has been backing his horse with every
one who would lay against it. However, it won’t make any
difference to him, and it is always a satisfaction when the loss
comes on some one to whom it doesn’t matter a bit. I think
the regiment ought to give a. dinner to Prothero, Major; it
was entirely his riding that (lid it; he hustled that nigger on
Mameluke splendidly. If the fellow had waited till within
half a mile of home he would have won to a certainty; I
never saw anything better.”
“ \Vell, Miss Hannay, what do you think of a. horse-race 'l”
Bathurst, who had only remained a few minutes at the car-
riage, asked, as he strolled up again. “You said yesterday
that you had never seen one.”
“I am a little ashamed to say I was very much excited
over it, Mr. Bathurst. You have not lost, I hope? You are
looking ” and she stopped.
“Shaky?” he said. “Yes; I feel shaky. I had not a
penny on the race, for though the Doctor made me put into
a sweep last night at the club, I drew a blank; but the shout-
ing and excitement at the finish seemed to take my breath
away, and I felt quite faint.”
“That is just how I felt; I did not know men felt like that.
They don’t generally seem to know what nerves are.”
“I wish I didn’t; it is a great nuisance. The Doctor tries
to persuade me that it is the effect of overwork, but I have
always been so from a child, and I can’t get over it.”
“You don’t look nervous, Mr. Bathurst.”
“No; when a man is a fair size, and looks bronzed and
healthy, no one will give him credit for being nervous. I
would give a very great deal if I could get over it.”
“I don’t see that it matters much one way or the other,
Mr. Bathurst.”
“I can assure you that it does. I regard it as being a
most serious misfortune.”
Isobel was a little surprised at the earnestness with which
he spoke.


RUj‘UB, THE YUGGLER. 77
“I should not have thought that,” she said quietly; “but I
‘can understand that it is disagreeable for a man to feel ner-
vous, simply, I suppose, because it is regarded as a feminine
quality ; but I think a good many men are nervous. We had
several entertainments on board the ship coming out, and it
was funny to see how many great strong men broke down,
especially those who had to make speeches.”
“ I am not nervous in that way,” Bathurst said, with a laugh.
“My pet horror is noise; thunder prostrates me completely,
and in fact all noises, especially any sharp, sudden sound, affect
me. I really- find it a great nuisance. I fancy a woman with
nerves considers herself as a martyr, and deserving of all pity
and sympathy. It is almost a fashionable complaint, and She
is a little proud of it ; but a man ought to have his nerves in
good order, and as much as that is expected of him unless he
is a feeble little body. There is the bell for the next race.”
“Are you going to bet on this race again, Miss Hannayi”
Wilson said, coming up.
“No, Mr. Wilson. I have done my first and last bit of-
gambling. I don’t think it is nice ladies betting after all, and
if there were a hospital here I should order you to send the
money the gloves will cost you to it as conscience money, and
then perhaps you might follow my example with your winnings.”
“ My conscience is not moved in any way,” he laughed 5 “when
it is I will look out for a. deserving charity. Well, if you won’tbet
I must see if I can make a small investment somewhere else.”
“ I shall see you at the ball, of course ’1 ” Isobel said, turning
to Mr. Bathurst, as \Vilson left the carriage.
“No, I think not. Balls are altogether out of my line,
and as there is always a superabundance of men at such
afiairs here, there is no sense of duty about it.”
“ \Vhat is your line, Mr. Bathurst? ”
“ I am afraid I have none, Miss Hannay. The fact is,
there is really more work to be done than one can get
through. \Vhen you get to know the natives well you cannot
help liking them and longing to do them some good if they
would but let you, but it is so difiicult to get them to take
up new ideas. Their religion, with all its customs and cere-
monies, seems designed expressly to bar out all improvement.
Except in the case of abolishing Suttee, we have scarcely
weaned them from one of their observances 3 and even now, in
spite of our efforts, widows occasionally immolate themselves,
and that with the general approval.


78 RUjUB, THE j'UGGLER.
“I wish I had an army of ten thousand English ladies all
speaking the language well to go about among the women
and make friends with them ; there would be more good done
in that way than by all the officials in India. They might
not be able to emancipate themselves from all their restric-
tions, but they might influence their children, and in time
pave the way for a moral revolution. But it is ridiculous,”
he said, breaking off suddenly, “my talking like this here,
but you zee it is what you call my line, my hobby if you like;
but when one sees this hard-working, patient, gentle people
making their lot so much harder than it need be by their
customs and Observances, one longs to force them even against
their own will to burst their bonds.”
Dr. \Vade came up at this moment and caught the last
word or two.
“You are incoriigihl'e, Bathurst. Miss Hannay, I warn
you that this man is a monomaniac. I drag him away from
his work, and here he is discoursing with you on reform just
as a race is going to start. You may imagine, my dear, what
a thorn he is in the side of the big wigs. You have heard of
Talleyrand’s advice to a young oflicial, ‘ Above all things, no
zeal.’ Go away, Bathurst ; Miss Hannay wants to see the
race, and even if she doesn’t, she is powerless to assist you in
your crusade.”
Bathurst laughed and drew off.
“That is too bad, Doctor. I was very interested. I like
to talk to people who can think of something besides races
and balls, and the gossip of the station.”
“Yes, in reason, in reason, my dear; but there is a medium
in all things. I have no doubt Bathurst will be quite happy
some time or other to give you his full views on child mar-
riages, and the remarriages of widows, and female education,
and the land settlement, and a score of other questions, but
for this a few weeks of peifect leisure will be required.
Seriously, you know that I think Bathurst one of the finest
young fellows in the service, but his very earnestness injures
both his prospects and his utility. The oflicials have a horror of
enthusiasm ,' they like the cut and dried subordinate who does
his duty conscientiously, and does not trouble his head about
anything but carrying out the regulations laid down for him.
“Theoretically I agree with most of Bathurst’s views, prac-
tically I see that a score of officials like him would excite a
revolution throughout a whole province. In India, of all


RU] UB, THE j’UGGLER. 79
places in the world, the maxim festina Zente—go slow—is appli-
cable. You have the prejudices of a couple of thousand years
against change. The people of all things are jealous of the
slightest appearance of interference with their customs. The
change will no doubt come in time, but it must come gradually,
and must be the work of the natives themselves and not of us.
To try to hasten that time would be but to defer it. Now, child,
there is the hell 5 now just attend to the business in hand.”
“Very well, Doctor, I will obey your orders, but it is only
fair to say that Mr. Bathurst’s remarks are only in answer to
something I said,” and Isobel turned to watch the race, but
with an interest less ardent than she had before felt.
Isobel’s character was an essentially earnest one, and her
life up to the day of her departure to India. had been one of
few pleasures. She had enjoyed the change and had entered
heartily into it, and she was as yet by no means tired of it, but
she had upon her arrival at Cawnpore been a little disappointed
that there was no definite work for her to perform, and had
already begun to feel that a time would come when she would
want something more than gossip and amusements and the
light talk of the ofiicers of her acquaintance to fill her life.
She had as yet no distinct interest of her own, and Bathurst’s
earnestness had struck a chord in her own nature and seemed
to open a wide area for thought. She put it aside now and
chatted gain with the Hunters and those who came up to the
carriage, but it came back to her as she sat in her room before
going to bed.
Up till now she had not heard a remark since she had been
in Cawnpore that might not have been spoken had the canton-
ments there been the whole of India, except that persons at
other stations were mentioned. The vast, seething native
population were no more alluded to than if they were a world
apart. Bathurst’s words had for the first time brought home
to her the reality of their existence, and that around this little
group of English men and women lay a vast population, with
their joys and sorrows and sufferings.
At breakfast she surprised Mrs. Hunter by asking a. variety
of questions as to native customs. “I suppose you have often
been in the Zenanas, Mrs. Hunter?”
“Not often, my dear. I have been in some of them, and very
depressing it is to see how childish and ignorant the women are.”
“Can nothing he done for them, Mrs. Hunter? ”
“Very little. In time I suppose there will be schools for


80 RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER.
girls, but you see they marry so young that it is diflicult to
get at them.”
“How young do they marry 'I”
“They are betrothed, although it has all the force of a
marriage, as infants, and a girl can be a widow at two or three
years old; and so, poor little thing, she remains to the end of
her life in a position little better than that of a servant in her
husband's family. Really they are married at ten or eleven.”
Isobel looked amazed at this her first insight into native
life. Mrs. Hunter smiled.
“I heard Mr. Bathurst saying something to you about it
yesterday, Miss Hannay. He is an enthusiast; we like him
very much, but we don’t see much of him.”
"You must beware of him, Miss Hannay,” Mr. Hunter said,
“or he will inoculate you with some of his fads. I do not
say that he is not right, but he sees the immensity of the
need for change, but does not see fully the immensity of the
difliculty in bringing it about.”
“There is no fear of his inoculating me; that is to say, of
setting me to work, for what could one woman do?”
“Nothing, my dear,” her uncle said; “if all the white
women in India threw themselves into the work, they could
do little. The natives are too jealous of what they consider
intruders ; the Parsees are about the only progressive people.
\Vhile ladies are welcome enough when they pay a. visit of
ceremony to the Zenana of a native, if they were to try to
teach their wives to be discontented with their lots—for that
is what it would be—they would be no longer welcome.
Schools are being established, but at present these are but a
drop in the ocean. Still, the work does go on, and in time
something will be done. It is of no use bothering yourself
about it, Isobel ; it is best to take matters as you find them.”
Isobel made no answer, but she was much disappointed
when Dr. \Vade, dropping in to tifi’in, said his guest had
started two hours before for Deennugghur. He had a batch
of letters and reports from his native clerk, and there was
something or other that he said he must see to at once.
“He begged me to say, Major, that he was very sorry to
go off without saying good-bye, but he hoped to be in Cawnpore
before long. I own that that part of the message astonished
me, knowing as I do what difliculty there is in getting him out of
his shell. He and I became great chums when I was over at
Deennugghur two years ago, and the young fellow is not given


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 81
to making friends. However, as he is not the man to say a
thing without meaning it, I suppose he intends to come over
again. He knows there is always a bed for him in my place.”
“\Ve see very little of him,” Mary Hunter said; “he is
always away on horseback all day. Sometimes he comes in
the evening when we are quite alone, but he will never stay
long. He always excuses himself on the ground that he has
a report to write or something of that sort. Amy and I call
him ‘Timon of Athens.’ ”
“There is nothing of Timon about him,” the Doctor
remarked dogmatically. “That is the way with you young
ladies—you think that a man’s first business in life is to be
dancing attendance on you. Bathurst looks at life seriously,
and no wonder, going about as he does among the natives and
listening to their stories and complaints. He puts his hand
to the plough, and does not turn to the right or left.”
“ Still, Doctor, you must allow,” Mrs. Hunter said gravely,
“that Mr. Bathurst is not like most other men.”
“Certainly not,” the Doctor remarked. “He takes no
interest in sport of any kind ; he does not care for society ; he
very rarely goes to the club, and never touches a card when
he does; and yet he is the sort of man one would think would
throw himself into what is going on. He is a strong, active,
healthy man, whom one would expect to excel in all sorts of
sports; he is certainly good-looking ; he talks extremely well,
and is, I should say, very well read and intelligent.”
‘ He can be very amusing when he likes, Doctor. Once or
twice when he has been with us he has seemed to forget him-
self, as it were, and was full of fun and life. You must allow
that it is a little singular that a man like this should altogether
ar 7 ' society, and night and day be absorbed in his work.”
' 1 have thought sometimes,” Mr. Hunter said, “ that
Bathurst must have had some great trouble in his life. Of
what nature I can, of course, form no idea. He was little
more than twenty when he came out here, so I should say
that it was hardly a love affair.”
“That is always the way, Hunter. If a man goes his own
way, and that way does not happen to be the way of the mass,
it is supposed that he must have had trouble of some sort. As
Bathurst is the son of a distinguished soldier, and is now the
owner of a fine property at home, I don’t see what trouble he
can have had. He may possibly, for anything I know, have
had some boyish love affairs, but I don’t think he is the sort
F


82 RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER.
of man to allow his whole life to be affected by any foolery of
that sort. He is simply an enthusiast.
“ It is good for mankind that there should be some enthu-
siasts. I grant that it would be an unpleasant world if we
were all enthusiasts, but the sight of a man like him throwing
his whole life and energy into his work, and wearing himself
out trying to lessen the evils he sees around him, ought to do
good to us all. Look at these boys,” and he apostrophised
\Vilson and Richards, as they appeared together at the door.
“ What do they think of but amusing themselves and shirking
their duties as far as possible 1 ”
“Oh, I say, Doctor,” Wilson exclaimed, astonished at this
sudden attack, “what are you pitching into us like that for?
That is not fair, is it, Major? We amuse ourselves, of course,
when there is nothing else to do, but I am sure we don’t shirk
our work. You don’t want us to spend our spare time in
reading Greek, I suppose 7”
“No; but you might spend some of it very profitably in
learning some of these native languages,” the Doctor said. “I
don’t believe that you know above a dozen native words now.
You can shout for brandy and water, and for a light for your
cigars, but I fancy that that is about the extent of it.”
“We are going to have a moonshee next week, Doctor, ” \Vilson
said, a little crestfallen, “and a horrid nuisance it will be.”
“That is only because you are obliged to pass in the verna-
cular, \Vilson. So you need not take any credit to yourself
on that account.”
“Doctor, you are in one of your worst possible tempers this
morning,” Isobel said. “Y0u snap at us all round. You are
quite intolerable this morning.”
“I am rather put out by Bathurst running away in this
fashion, Miss Hannay. I had made up my mind that he would
stop three or four days longer, and it is pleasant to have some
one who can talk and think about something besides horses
and balls. But I will go away; I don’t want to be the dis-
turbing element ; and I have no doubt that Richards is burning
to tell you the odds on some of the horses to-day.”
“Shall we see you on the racecourse, Doctor?” the Major
asked, as the Doctor moved towards the door.
“ You will not, Major 3 one day is enough for me. If they
would get up a donkey race confined strictly to the subalterns
of the station, I might take the trouble to go and look at it. ”
“ The Doctor is in great form to-day,” Wilson said good-


RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER. 83
temperedly, after the laugh which followed the Doctor’s exit had
subsided; “and I am sure we did nothing to provoke him.”
“You got into his line of fire, \Vilson,” the Major said;
“he is explosive this morning, and has been giving it to us
all round. However, nobody minds what the Doctor says;
his bark is very bad, but he has no bite. \Vait till you are
down with the fever, and you will find him devote himself to
you as if he were your father.”
“He is one of the kindest men in the world,” Isobel agreed
warmly, thereby effectually silencing Richards, who had just
pulled up his shirt collar preparatory to a sarcastic utterance
respecting him.
Isobel, indeed, was in, full sympathy with the Doctor, for
she, too, was disappointed at Bathurst’s sudden departure.
She had looked forward to learning a good deal from him about
the native customs and ways, and had intended to have a long
talk with him. She was perhaps, too, more interested generally
in the man himself than she would have been willing to admit.
That evening the party went to an entertainment at Bithoor.
Isobel and the girls were delighted with the illuminations of
the gardens and with the palace itself, with its mixture of
Eastern splendour and European luxury. But Isobel did
not altogether enjoy the evening.
“I suppose I ought to congratulate you on your success
last night, Isobel,” Dr. \Vade said, when he dropped in after
breakfast. “Every one has been telling me that the Rajah
paid you the great-est attention, and that there is the fiercest
gnashing of teeth among what must now be called the ex-
queens of the station.” .
“I don’t know who told you such nonsense, Doctor,” Isobel
replied hotly. “The Rajah quite spoilt the evening for me.
1 have been telling Mrs. Hunter so. If we had not been in
his own house, I should have told him that I should enjoy the
evening very much more if he would leave me alone and let
me go about and look quietly at the place and the gardens,
which are really beautiful. No doubt he is pleasant enough,
and I suppose I ought to have felt flattered at his walking
about with me and so on, but I am sure I did not. \Vhat
pleasure does he suppose an English girl can have in listening
to elaborate compliments from a man as yellow as a guinea? ”
“Think of his wealth, my dear.”
“What difference does his wealth make?” Isobel said.
“As far as I have seen, I do not think that rich Englishmen


84 RUj‘UB, THE yUGGLER.
are more amusing than others, and if he had all the wealth
of India that would not improve N ana Sahib in my eyes.
There are women, of course, who do think a great deal about
money, and who will even marry men for it, but even women
who would do that could not, I should think, care anything
about the wealth of a Hindoo they cannot marry.”
“Not directly, my dear,” Mrs. Hunter said; “but people
may be flattered with the notice and admiration of a person
of importance and great wealth, even if he is a Hindoo."
“Besides,” the Doctor put in, “ the Rajah is considered to
be a great connoisseur of English beauty, and has frequently
expressed his deep regret that his religion prevented his
marrying an English lady."
“I should be very sorry for the English girl who would
marry him, religion or not.”
“ I think you are rather hard upon the Nana, Isobel,” the
Major said. “He is a general favourite; he is open-handed
and liberal ; very fond of entertaining ; a great admirer of us as
a nation. He is a wonderfully well-read man for a Hindoo, can
talk upon almost every subject, and is really a pleasant fellow.”
“I don’t like him; I don’t like him at all,” Isobel said
positively.
“Ah, that isonly because you thought he made you a. little more
conspicuous than you liked by his attentions to you, Isobel.”
“N o, indeed, uncle; that was very silly and ridiculous, but
I did not like the man himself, putting that aside altogether.
It was like talking to a man with a mask on; it gave me a
creepy feeling. It did not seem to me that one single word he
said was sincere, but that he was acting; and over and over
again as he was talking I said to myself, ‘ What is this man
really like? I know he is not the least bit in the world what
he pretends to be. But what is the reality 2’ I felt just the
same as I should if I had one of those great snakes they bring
to our verandah coiling round me. The creature might look
quiet enough, but I should know that if it were to tighten it
would crush me in a moment.”
The Major and Mrs. Hunter both laughed at her earnest-
ness, but the Doctor said gravely, “ Is that really how you felt
about him when he was talking to you, Miss Hannay? I am
sorry to hear you say that. I own that my opinion has been
that of every one here, that the Rajah is a good fellow and a.
firm friend of the Europeans, and my only doubt has arisen
from the fact that it was unnatural he should like us when he


RU} UB, THE YUGGLER. 85
has considerable groundser grievance against us. We have
always relied upon his influence, which is great among his
cOuntrymen, being thrown entirely into the scale on our side
if any trouble should ever arise; but I own that what you say
makes me doubt him. I would always take the opinion of a
dog or a child about any one in preference to my own.”
“ You are not very complimentary, Doctor,” Isobel laughed.
“Well, my dear, a young girl who has not mixed much in
the world and had her instincts blunted is in that respect
very much like a child. She may be deceived, and constantly
is deceived when her heart is concerned, and is liable to be
taken in by any plausible scoundrel ; but where her heart is
not concerned her instincts are true. When I see children
and dogs stick to a man I am convinced that he is all right,
though I may not personally have taken to him. When I see
a dog put his tail between his legs and decline to accept the
advances of a man, and when I see children slip away from
him as soon as they can, I distrust him at once, however
pleasant a fellow he may be. As the Rajah, from all I heard,
certainly laid himself out to be agreeable to you last night,
and yet in spite of that you felt as you say you did about him,
I am bound to say that without at once admitting that my
impressions about him were wrong, I‘consider that there is
good ground for thinking the matter over again.”
“ What nonsense, Doctor,” the Major laughed. “ Every one
here has known the Rajah for years. He is a most popular
man, every one likes him, among the ladies especially he is
a great favourite. It is ridiculous to suggest that every one
should have been wrong about him, merely because Isobel takes
a prejudice against him, and that as far as I can see is simply
because his admiration for her was somewhat marked. ”
Isobel gave a little shudder. “ Don’t talk about admiration,
uncle,- that is not the word for it; I don’t know what it was
like. They say snakes fascinate birds before they eat them
by fixing their eyes upon them. I should say it was some-
thing of that sort of look.”
“Well, my dear, he is not going to eat you, that is cer-
tain,” the Major said ; “and I can assure you that his appro-
bation goes for a great deal here, and that after this you will
go up several pegs in Cawnpore society. ”
Isobel tossed her. head. “Then I am sorry for Cawnpore
sOciety ; it is a matter of entire indifference to me whether I
go up or down in its opinion.”


86 RUJUB, THE jUGGLER.
A fortnight later the Nana gave another entertainment.
A good deal to her uncle’s vexation, Isobel refused to go when
the time came.
“But what am I to say, mydear‘l" he asked in some perplexity.
“You can say anything you like, uncle; you can say that
I am feeling the heat and have got a bad headache, which is
true; or you can say that I don't care for gaiety, which is
also true. I shall be very much more comfortable and happy
at home by myself.”
The Hunters had by this time returned to Deennugghur, and
the Major drove over to Bithoor accompanied only by Dr. \Vade.
He was rather surprised when the Doctor said he would go, as
it was very seldom that he went out to such entertainments.
“I am not going to amuse myself, Major; I want to have a
good look at the Nana again ; I am not comfortable since Isobel
gave us her opinion of him. He is an important personage,
and if there is any truth in these rumours about disaffec-
tion among the Sepoys, his friendship may be of the greatest
assistance to us.”
So the Doctor was with Major Hannay when the latter
made his excuses for Isobel’s absence on the ground that she
was not feeling very well.
The Nana expressed great regret at the news, and said that
with the Major’s permission he would call in the morning to
inquire after Miss Hannay’s health.
“He did not like it,” the Doctor said, when they had strolled -
away together. “He was very civil and polite, but 1 could
see that he was savage. I fancy he got up this féte principally
in her honour. It is not often he has two so close together.”
“ Oh, that is nonsense, Doctor.”
“I don’t think so. He has done the same sort of thing
several times before, when he has been specially taken by
some fresh face from England.”
Others besides the Doctor remarked that the Rajah was
not quite himself that evening. He was courteous and polite
to his guests, but he was irritable with his own people, and
something had evidently gone wrong with him.
The next day he called at the Major’s. The latter had not
told Isobel of his intention, for be guessed that had he done
so she would have gone across to Mrs. Doolan or one of her
lady friends, and she was sitting in the verandah with him
and young Wilson when the carriage drove up.
“I was so sorry to hear that you were unwell, Miss Hannay,”


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 87
the Nana said courteously. “ It was a great disappointment to
me that you were unable to accompany your uncle last night.”
“I have been feeling the heat the last few days,” Isobel
said quietly, “and, indeed, I do not care much about going
out in such hot weather as this. I have not been accustomed
to much society in England, and the crowd and the heat and
the lights make my head ache.”
“You look the picture of health, Miss Hannay, but I know
that it is trying for Englishwomen when they first come into
our climate; it is always a great pleasure to me to receive
English ladies at Bithoor. I hope upon the next occasion
you will be able to come."
“I am much obliged to your highness,” she said, “but it
would be a truer kindness to let me stay quietly at home.”
“But that is selfish of you, Miss Hannay. You should
think a little of the pleasure of others as well as your own."
“ I am not conceited enough to suppose that it could make
any difference to other people’s pleasure whether I am at a
party or not,” Isobel said. “I suppose you mean that as a
compliment, Rajah, but I am not accustomed to compliments,
and don’t like them."
“You will have to learn to become accustomed to com-
pliments, Miss Hannay,” the Rajah said, with a smile; and
then turning to the Doctor, began to tell him of a tiger that
had been doing a great deal of harm at a village some thirty
- miles away, and offered to send some elephants over to orga-
nise a. hunt for him if he liked, an invitation that the Doctor
promptly accepted.
The visit was but a short one. The Rajah soon took his leave.
“You are wrong altogether, Isobel,” the Doctor said. “I
have returned to my conviction that the Rajah is a first-rate
fellow.”
“ That is just because he offered you some shooting, Doctor,”
Isobel said indignantly. “I thought better of you than to
suppose that you could be bought over so easily as that.”
“She had you there, Doctor,” the Major laughed. “ How-
ever, I am glad that you will no longer be backing her in
her fancies.”
“ \Vhy did you accept his invitation for us to go over and
lunch there, uncle 'Z " Isobel asked, in a tone of annoyance.
“ Because there was no reason in the world why we should
refuse, my dear. He very often has luncheon parties, and
after that he will show you over the place, and exhibit his


88 RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER.
jewels and curiosities. He said there would be other ladies
there, and I have no doubt we shall have a very pleasant day.’ ’
Even Isobel was obliged to confess that the visit was a
pleasant one. The Nana had asked Mrs. Cromarty, her
daughters, and most of the other ladies of the regiment, with
their husbands. The lunch was a banquet, and after it was
over the parties were taken round the palace, paid a visit
to the Zenana, inspected the gardens and stables, and were
driven through the park. The Nana saw that Isobel objected
to be particularly noticed, and had the tact to make his atten-
tions so general that even she could find no fault with him.
On the drive back she admitted to her uncle that she had
enjoyed her visit very much, and that the Rajah’s manners
were those of a perfect gentleman.
“ But mind, uncle,” she said, “I do not retract my opinion.
\Vhat the Rajah really is I don’t pretend to know, but I am
quite sure that the character of a smiling host is not his real one,
and that for some reason or other he is simply playing a part.”
“I had no idea that you were such a prejudiced little
woman,” the Major said, somewhat vexed; “ but as it is no ‘
use arguing with you we had better drop the subject.”
For the next month Cawnpore suffered a little from the
reaction after the gaiety of the races, but there was no lack of
topics of conversation, for the rumours of disaifection among
the troops gained in strength, and although nothing positive
was known, and every one scoffed at the notion of any serious
trouble, the subject was so important a one that little else was
talked of whenever parties of the ladies got together.
CHAPTER VIII.
“I HAVE some bad news, Isobel. At least I suppose you will
consider it bad news,” the Major said one morning, when he
returned from the orderly room. “You heard me say that
four companies were going to relieve those at Deennugghur.
\Vell, I am going with them. It seems that the General is of
opinion that in the present unsettled state of affairs there ought
to be a field-officer in command there, so I have to go. For
myself I don’t mind, but you will find it dull in a small station
like that, after the gaieties of Cawnpore.”
“I don’t mind a bit, uncle, in that respect. I don’t think I
care much for gaieties, but of course the move will be a trouble.


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 89
lVe have everything so nice here, it will be horrid having to
leave it all. How long will it be for? ”
“Six months, in the ordinary state of things, though of
course something may occur to bring us in before that. Still,
the change won’t be as much trouble as you fancy. When we
get there you can stay for two or three days with the Hunters
till we have got the things to rights. There is one thing that
you will be pleased about. \Vade is going with us, at any rate
for the present; you are a favourite of his, you know, and I
think that is the principal reason for his going. At any rate,
when he heard I was in orders, he told the Colonel that, as
there Was no illness in the regiment, he thought, if he did
not object, he would change places for a bit with M‘Alaster,
the assistant-surgeon, who has been with the detachment at
Deennugghur for the last year, so as to give him a. turn of duty
at Cawnpore, and do a little shikaring himself. There is more
jungle and better shooting round Deennugghur than there is
here, and you know the Doctor is an enthusiast that way. Of
course, the Colonel agreed at once.”
“ I am very glad of that, uncle; it won't seem like going to a
strangeplaceif we have himwith us, and the Hunters there, and I
suppose three or four officers of the regiment. \Vho are going i ”
“Both your boys,” the Major laughed, “and Doolan and
Rintoul.”
"' When do we go, uncle?”
“ Next Monday. I shall get somebody to put us up
from Friday, and that morning we will get everything dis-
mantled here, and send them off by bullock carts with the
servants to Deennugghur, so that they will be there by Monday
morning. I will write to Hunter to pick us out the best of
the empty bungalows, and see that our fellows get to work to
clean the place up as soon as they arrive. We shall be two
days on the march, and things will be pretty forward by the
time we get there.”
“And where shall we sleep on the march 'l”
“ In tents, my dear, and very comfortable you will find them.
Rumzan will go with us, and you will find everything go on
as smoothly as if you were here. Tent life in India is very
pleasant. Next year, in the cool season, we will do an excur-
sion somewhere, and I am sure you will find it delightful : they
don’t know anything about the capabilities of tents at home.”
“Then do I quite understand, uncle, that all I have got to
do is to make a round of calls to say goodbye to every one i ”


90 RquB, THE IUGGLER.
“That is all. You will find a lot of my cards in one of those
pigeon-holes ,' you may as well drop one wherever you go. Shall
I order a carriage from Framjee’s for to-day'l"
“No, I think not, uncle; I will go round to our own bungalows
first, and hear what Mrs. Doolan and the others think about it.”
At Mrs. Doolan’s Isobel found quite an assembly. Mrs.
Rintoul had come in almost in tears, and the two young
lieutenants had dropped in with Captain Doolan, while one or
two other officers had come round to commiserate with Mrs.
Doolan.
“Another victim,” the latter said, as Isobel entered. “You
look too cheerful, Miss Hannay. I find that we are expected
to wear sad countenances at our approaching banishment.”
“Are we, Mrs. Doolan? It seems to me that it won’t make
very much difference to us."
“ Not make any dili‘erence, Miss lIannay l” Captain Doolan
said. “ \Vhy, Deennuggliur is one of the dullest little stations
on this side of India.”
“ \Vhat do you mean by dull, Captain Doolan ’l"
“\Vhy, there are only about six white residents there be-
sides the troops. Of course, as four companies are going instead
of one, it will make a dill’erence; but there will be no gaiety,
no excitement, and really nothing to do.”
“As for the gaiety, I am sure I shall not regret it, Captain
Doolan ; besides, our gaieties are pretty well over, except, of
course, dinner- parties, and it is getting very hot for them. we
shall get olf having to go out in the heat of the day to make
calls, which seem to me terrible afflictions, and I think with a
small party it ought to be very sociable and pleasant. As for
excitement, I hear that there is much better shooting there
than there is here. Mrs. Hunter was telling me that they
have had some tigers that have been very troublesome round
there, and you will all have an opportunity of showing your
skill and bravery. I know that Mr. Richards and Mr. \Vilson
are burning to distinguish themselves.”
“It would be great fun to shoot a tiger,” Richards said.
“When I came out to India I thought there was going to be
lots of tiger shooting, and I bought a rifle on purpose, but I
have never had a chance yet. Yes, we will certainly get up a
tiger hunt, won’t we, Wilson? You will tell us how to set
about it, won’t you, Doolan '1”
“I don’t shoot,” Captain Doolan said ; “and if I wanted to,
I am not sure that my wife would give me leave.”


92 RU} UB, THE yuooLER.
“Yes, it will be horribly dull, Mrs. Doolan. Richards and
I have quarters together here, and, of course, it will be the
same there, and I am sure I don’t know what we shall find
to talk about when we come to have to mess together. Of
course, here, there are the mess-room and the club, and so we
get on very well, but to be together always will be awful.”
“ You will really have to take to reading or something of
that sort, Mr. \Vilson," Isobel laughed.
“I always do read the Field, Miss Hannay, but that won’t
last for a whole week, you know; and there is no billiard-
table, and no racquet court, or anything else at Deennugghur,
and one cannot always be riding about the country.”
“We shall all have to take pity on you as much as we can,”
Mrs. Doolan said. “I must say that, like Miss Hannay, I
shall not object to the change.”
“ I think it is all very well for you, Mrs. Doolan; you have
children.”
“ Well, Mr. Richards, I will let you both, as a great treat,
take them out for a walk sometimes of a. morning instead of
their going with the ayah. That will make a change for you.”
There was a general laugh, but Wilson said manfully,
“Very well, Mrs. Doolan ; I am very fond of youngsters, and
I should like to take, anyhow, the two eldest out sometimes.
I don’t think I should make much hand with the other two,
but perhaps Richards would like to come in and amuse them
while we are out; he is just the fellow for young ones.”
There was another laugh, in which Richards joined. “I
could carry them about on my back, and pretend to be a
horse,” he said; “ but I don’t know that I could amuse them
in any other way.”
“You would find that very hot work, Mr. Richards,” Mrs.
Doolan said ; “ but I don’t think we shall require such a sacri-
fice of you. Well, I don’t think we shall find it so bad, after
all, and I don’t suppose it will be for very long; I do not
believe in all this talk about chupaties, and disafi’ection, and
that sort of thing; I expect in three months we shall most of
us be back again.”
Ten days later the detachment was settled down in Deen-
nugghur. The troops were for the most part under canvas,
for there was only accommodation for a single company at the
station. The two subalterns occupied a large square tent,
while the other three ofiicers took possession of the only three
bungalows that were vacant at the station, the Doctor having


RUj’UB, THE YUGGLER. 93
a tent to himself. The Major and Isobel had stayed for the
first three days with the Hunters, at the end of which time the
bungalow had been put in perfect order. It was far less com-
modious than that at Cawnpore, but Isobel was well satisfied with
it when all their belongings had been arranged, and she soon
declared that she greatly preferred Deennugghur to Cawnpore.
Those at the station heartily welcomed the accession to their
numbers, and there was an entire absence of the stiffness and
formality of a large cantonment like Cawnpore, and Isobel was
free to run in as she chose to spend the morning chatting and
working with the Hunters, or Mrs. Doolan, or with the other
ladies, of whom there were three at the station.
A few days after their arrival, news came in that the famous
man-eater, which had for a time ceased his ravages and moved
off to a. different part of the country, principally because the
natives of the villages near the jungle had ceased altogether
to go out after nightfall, had returned, and had carried off
herdsmen on two consecutive days.
The Doctor at once prepared for action, and agreed to allow
Wilson and Richards to accompany him, and the next day the
three rode off together to Narkeet, to which village the two
herdsmen had belonged. Both had been killed near the same
spot, and the natives had traced the return of the tiger to the
jungle with its victims.
The Doctor soon found that the ordinary methods of de-
stroying the tiger had been tried again and again without
success. Cattle and goats had been tied up, and the native
shikaris had taken their posts in trees close by, and had
watched all night; but in vain. Spring traps and dead falls
had also been tried, but the tiger seemed absolutely indifferent
to the attractions of their baits, and always on the look-out
for snares. The attempts made at a dozen villages near the
jungle had all been equally unsuccessful.
“ It is evident,” the Doctor said, “that the brute cares for
nothing but human victims. N o doubt, if he were very hungry
he would take a cow or a goat, but we might wait a very long
time for that; so the only thing that I can see is to act as a
bait myself.”
“How will you do that, Doctor'l”
“I shall build a sort of cage near the point where the tiger
has twice entered the jungle. I will take with me in the cage
a woman or girl from the village. From time to time she
shall cry out as if in pain, and as the tiger is evidently


g4 RUleB, THE jUGGLER.
somewhere in this neighbourhood, it is likely enough he will
come out to see about it.
“ \Ve must'have the cage pretty strong, or I shall never get
any one to sit with me; besides, on a dark night, there is no
calculating on killing to a certainty with the first shot, and it is
just as well to be on the safe side. In daylight it would be a
different matter altogether. I can rely upon my weapon when
I can see, but on a dark night it is pretty well guess-work.”
The villagers were at once engaged to erect a stout cage
eight feet square and four high, of beams driven into the
ground six inches apart, and rooted in with strong bars. There
was a considerable difficulty in getting any one to consent to
sit by the Doctor, but at last the widow of one of the men who
had been killed agreed for the sum of twenty-five rupees to pass
the night there, accompanied by her child four years old.
The Doctor‘s skill with his rifle was notorious, and it was
rather the desire of seeing her husband’s death avenged than
for the sake of the money that she consented to keep watch.
There was but one tree suitable for the watchers ; it stood some
forty yards to the right of the cage, and it was arranged that
both the subalterns should take their station in it.
"' New look here, lads,” the Doctor said, “ before we start on
this business, it must be quite settled that you do not fire till you
hear my rifle. That is the first thing; the second is that you
only fire when the brute is a fair distance from the cage. If“
you get excited and blaze away anyhow, you are quite as likely
to hit me as you are the tiger. Now, 1 object to take any risk
whatever on that score. You will havea native shikari in the
tree with you to point out the tiger, for it is twenty to one
against your making him out for yourselves. It will be quite
indistinct, and you have no chance of making out its head or
anything of that sort, and you have to take a shot at it as
best you may.
“ Remember there must not be a word spoken. If the brute
does come, it will probably make two or three turns round
the cage before it approaches it, and may likely enough pass
close to you, but in no case fire. You can’t make sure of kill-
ing it, and if it were only wounded, it would make off into the
jungle, and all our trouble would be thrown away. Also re-
member you must not smoke; the tiger would smell it half a
mile away, and, besides, the sound of a match striking would
be quite suflicient to set him on his guard.”
“ There is no objection, I hope, Doctor, to our taking up our


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 9;
flasks; we shall want something to keep us from going to
slee .”
“llqo, there is no objection to that,” the Doctor said ; “ but
mind you don’t go to sleep, for if you did you might fall off
your bough and break your neck, to say nothing of the chance
of the tiger happening to be close at hand at the time.”
Late in the afternoon the Doctor went down to inspect the
cage, and pronounced it sufficiently strong. Half an hour
before nightfall he and the woman and child took their places
in it, and the two beams in the roof that had been left un-
fastened to allow of their entry were securely lashed in their
places by the villagers. \Vilson and Richards were helped up
into the tree, and took their places upon two boughs which
sprang from the trunk close to each other at a height of some
twelve feet from the ground. The shikari who was to wait
with them crawled out, and with a hatchet chopped off some
of the small boughs and foliage so as to give them a clear view
of the ground for some distance round the cage, which was
erected in the centre of a patch of brushwood, the lower portion
of which had been cleared out so that the Doctor should have
an uninterrupted view round. The boughs and leaves were
gathered up by the villagers, and carried away by them, and
the watch began.
“Confound it,” Richards whispered to his companion after
night fell, “it is getting as dark as pitch; I can scarcely make
out the clump where the cage is. I should hardly see an
elephant if he were to come, much less a brute like a tiger."
“ “"6 shall get accustomed to it presently," Wilson replied ;
“at any rate make quite sure of the direction in which the
cage is in; it is better to let twenty tigers go than to run the
risk of hitting the Doctor.”
In another hour their eyes had become accustomed to the
darkness, and they could not only see the clump in which the
cage was clearly, but could make out the outline of the bush
all round the open space in which it stood. Both started as
a loud and dismal wail rose suddenly i_n the air, followed by a
violent crying.
“ By Jove, how that woman made me jump l ” \Vilson said;
“it sounded quite awful, and she must have pinched that poor
little beggar of hers pretty sharply to make him yell like that."
A low "bush 1” from the shikari at his elbow warned Wilson
that he was speaking too loudly. Hours passed by, the cries
being raised at intervals.


96 RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
“I t is enough to give one the jumps, Richards ; each time
she yells I nearly fall of my branch.”
“Keep on listening, then it won’t startle you.”
“A fellow can’t keep on listening," Wilson grumbled; “I
listen each time until my ears begin to sing, and I feel stupid
and sleepy, and then she goes off again like a steam whistle;
that child will be black and blue all over in the morning. ”
A warning hiss from the shikari again induced \Vilson to
silence.
“I don’t believe the brute is coming,” he whispered, an hour
later. “If it wasn’t for this bough being so hard, I should
drop off to sleep ; my eyes ache with staring at those bushes.”
As he spoke the shikari touched him on the shoulder and
pointed. “Tiger,” he whispered; and then did the same to
Richards. Grasping their rifles, they gazed in the direction
in which he pointed, but could for some time make out nothing.
Then they saw a dim grey mass in frontof the bushes, directly
on the opposite side of the open space; then from the cage,
lying almost in a direct line between it and them, rose the cry
of the child. They were neither of them at all certain that the
object at which they were gazing was the tiger. It seemed shape-
less, the outline fading away in the bush; but they felt sure
that they had noticed nothing like it in that direction before.
For two or three minutes they remained in uncertainty,
then the outline seemed to broaden, and it moved noiselessly.
There could be no mistake now; the tiger had been attracted
by the cries, and as it moved along, they could see that it was
making a circuit of the spot from whence the sounds proceeded,
to reconnoitre before advancing towards its prey. It kept
close to the line of bushes, and sometimes passed behind some
of them. The shikari pressed their shoulders, and a low hiss
enforced the necessity for absolute silence. The two young
fellows almost held their breath; they had lost sight of the
tiger now, but knew it must be approaching them.
For two or three minutes they heard and saw nothing, then
the shikari pointed beyond them, and they almost started as
they saw the tiger retreating, and knew that it must have
passed almost under them without their noticing it. At last
it reached the spot at which they had first seen it. The child’s
cry, but this time low and querulous, again rose. With quicker
steps than before it moved on, but still not directly towards
the centre, to the great relief of the two subalterns, who had
feared that it might attack from such a. direction that they


98 RUj‘UB, TIIE jUGGLER.
the Doctor said ; “the tiger is dead enough, but it is always as
well to be prudent.”
The shikari had uttered a loud cry as he sprang down from
the tree, and this had been answered by shouts from the
distance. In a few minutes lights were seen through the trees,
and a score of men with torches and lanterns ran up with
shouts of satisfaction.
As soon as they arrived, the two young ofiicers advanced
to the cage. On the top a tiger was lying stretched out as if
in sleep; with some caution they approached it and flashed a
torch in its eyes. There was no doubt that it was dead. The
body was quickly rolled off the cage, and then a dozen hands
cut the lashing and lifted the top bars, which were deeply scored
by the tiger’s claws, and the Doctor emerged.
“I am glad to be out of that,” he said; “six hours in a
cage with a woman and a. crying brat is no joke.”
As soon as the Doctor had got out, the subalterns eagerly
examined the tiger, upon which the natives were heaping
curses and execrations.
“ How many wounds has it got 'l " they asked the Doctor, who
repeated the question to the shikari in his own language.
“Three, Sahib. One full in the chest—it would have been
mortal—two others in the ribs by the heart.”
“No others?” the subalterns exclaimed in disgust, as the
answer was translated to them.
The Doctor himself examined the tiger.
“No, you both missed, lads, but you need not be ashamed
of that; it is no easy matter to hit a tiger even at a short
distance on a dark night like this, when you can scarce make
him out, and can’t see the barrel of your rifle. I ought to have
told you to rub a little phosphorus off the head of a match
on to the sight. I am so accustomed to do it myself as a
matter of course, that I did not think of telling you. \Vell, I
am heartily glad we have killed it, for by all accounts it has
done an immense deal of damage.”
“It has been a fine tiger in its time, although its skin
doesn’t look much,” \Vilson said ; “ there are patches of fur 01f.”
“That is generally the case with man-eaters. They are
mostly old tigers who take, when they get past their strength,
to killing men. I don’t know whether the flesh doesn’t agree
with them, but they are almost always mangy.”
“ \Ve were afraid for a moment,” Richards said, “that the
tiger was going to break into your cage ; we heard him clawing


RU] 013, THE jUGGLER. 99
away at the timber, and as you didn’t fire again we were afraid
something was the matter. ”
“ The mother was,” the Doctor said testily. “The moment
the tiger sprang, the woman threw herself down at full length
right on the top of my second rifle, and when I went to push
her ofl“, I think she fancied the tiger had got hold of her, for
she gave a. yell that fairly made me jump. I had to push her
off by main force, and then lie down on my back, so as to get
the rifle up to fire. I was sure the first shot was fatal, for I
knew just where his heart would be, but I dropped a second
cartridge in, and gave him another bullet so as to make sure.
\Vell, if either of you want his head 'or his claws, you had
better say so at once, for the natives will be singeing his
whiskers ofi’ directly ; it is a superstition of theirs.”
“No, I don’t want them,” Wilson said. “If I had put a
bullet into the brute, so that I could have said I helped to kill
him, I should have liked the head to get it preserved and sent
home to my people, but as it is, the natives are welcome to it
as far as I am concerned.”
Richards was of the same opinion, and so, without further
delay, they started back for the village, where, upon their
arrival, they were greeted with cries of joy by the women, the
news having already been carried back by a boy.
“Poor beggars,” the Doctor said. “They have been living
a life of terror for weeks. They must feel as if they had
woke from a nightmare. Now, lads, we will have some supper.
I dare say you are ready for it, and I am sure I am.”
“Is there any chance of supper, Doctor l—why, it must be
two o’clock in the morning.”
“Of course there is,” the Doctor replied. “I gave orders
to my man to begin to warm up the food as soon as he heard
a gun fired, and I will guarantee he has got everything ready
by this time.”
After a hearty meal and a cigar, they lay down for a few
hours’ sleep, and at daybreak rode back to Deennugghur, the
two subalterns rather crestfallen at their failure to have taken
any active part in killing the tiger that had so long been a
terror to the district.
“ It was an awful sell missing him, Miss Hannay; I wanted
to have had the claws mounted as a necklace ; I thought you
would have liked it.”
“I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Wilson, but I would
much rather not have had them. If the tiger hadn’t been a


IOO RUYUB, THE YUGGLER.
man-eater I should not have minded, but I should never have
worn as an ornament claws that had killed lots of people—
women and children too.”
“No, I never thought of that, Miss Hannay; it wouldn't
have been pleasant, now one thinks of it ; still, I wish I had
put a bullet into him.”
“ No doubt you will do better next time, Mr. \Vilson. The
Doctor has been telling me that it is extremely difficult to hit an
animal in the dark when you are not accustomed to that sort of
shooting. He says he was in a great fright all the time he was
lying in the cage, and that it was an immense relief to him
when he heard your rifles go off, and found that he wasn‘t hit.”
“That is too bad of him, Miss Hannay,” Wilson laughed;
“we were not such duffers as all that. I don’t believe he
really did think so.”
“I am sure he was in earnest, Mr. Wilson. He said he
should have felt quite safe if it had been daylight, but that in
the dark people really can’t see which way the rifles are pointed,
and that he remembered he had not told you to put ph0sphorus
on the sights.”
“ It was too bad of him,” Wilson grumbled ; “it would have
served him right if one of the bullets had hit a timber of the
cage and given him a start; I should like to have seen the
Doctor struggling in the dark to get his second rifle from
under the woman, with the tiger clawing and growling two
feet above him.”
“ The Doctor didn’t tell me about that,” Isobel laughed;
“ though he said he had a woman and child with him to
attract the tiger.”
“It would have frightened any decent-minded tiger, Miss
IIannay, instead of attracting it; for such dismal yells as that
woman made I never listened to. I nearly tumbled off the tree
at the first of them, it made me jump so, and it gave me a.
feeling of cold water running down my back. As to the child,
I don’t know whether she pinched it or the Doctor stuck pins
into it, but the poor little brute howled in the most frightful
way. I don’t think I shall ever want to go tiger-shooting in
the dark again; I ache all over to-day as if I had been playing
in the first football match of the season, from sitting balancing
myself on that branch ; I was almost over half a dozen times.”
“ I expect you nearly went off to sleep, Mr. Wilson.”
“ I think I should have gone to sleep if it hadn’t been for
that woman, Miss Hannay. I should not have minded if I
I


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 101
could have smoked, but to sit there hour after hour and not
be able to smoke, and not allowed to speak, and staring all the
time into the darkness till your eyes ached, was trying, I can
tell you; and after all that, not to hit the brute was too bad."
The days passed quietly at Deennugghur. They were sel-
dom alone at Major Hannay’s bungalow in the evening, for
\Vilson and Richards generally came in to smoke acigar in
the verandah ; the Doctor was a regular visitor, when he was
not away in pursuit of game, and Bathurst was also often one
of the party.
“Mr. Bathurst is coming out wonderfully, Miss Hannay,”
Mrs. Hunter said one day, as Isobel sat working with her,
while the two girls were practising duets on a piano in the
next room. “ We used to call him the hermit, he was so
difficult to get out of his cell. \Ve were quite surprised when
he accepted our invitation to dinner yesterday."
“ I think Dr. \Vade has stirred him up,” Isobel said
calmly; “ he is a great favourite of the Doctor’s.”
Mrs. Hunter smiled over her work. “ Perhaps so, my
dear; anyhow, I am glad he has come out, and I hope he
won’t retire into his shell again after you have all gone.”
“ I suppose it depends on his work,” Isobel said.
“ My experience of men is that they can always make time
if they like, my dear. \Vhen a man says he is too busy to do
this, that, or the other, you may always safely put it down
that he doesn’t want to do it. Of course, it is just the same
thing with ourselves. You often hear women say they are
too busy to attend to all sorts of things that they ought to
attend to, but the same women can find plenty of time to go
to every pleasure gathering that comes off. There is no doubt
that Mr. Bathurst is really fond of work, and that he is an
indefatigable civil servant of the Company, but that would
not prevent him making an hour or two’s time of an evening,
occasionally, if he wanted to. However, he seems to have
turned over a new leaf, and I hope it will last. In a small
station like this, even one man is of importance, especially
when he is as pleasant as Mr. Bathurst can be when he likes.
He was in the army at one time, you know.”
“Was he, Mrs. Hunter?”
“Yes. I never heard him say so himself, but I have heard
so from several people. I think he was only in it for a year
or so. I suppose he did not care for it, and can quite imagine
he would not, so he sold out, and a short time afterwards


102 RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER.
obtained a. civil appointment. He has very good interest; his
father was General Bathurst, who Was, you know, a very distin-
guished oflicer. So he had no difficulty in getting into our ser-
vice, where he is entirely in his element. His father died two
years ago, and I believe he came into a good property at home.
Every one expected he would have thrown up his appointment,
but it made no difference to him, and he just went on as before,
working as if he had to depend entirely on the service.”
“I can quite understand that,” Isobel said, “to a really ear-
nest man a. life of usefulness here must be vastly preferable to
living at home without anything to do or any object in life.”
“Well, perhaps so, my dear, and in theory that is no doubt
the case; but practically, I fancy you would find nineteen men
out of twenty, even if they are what you call earnest men,
retire from the ranks of hard workers if they come into a nice
property. By the way, you must come in here this evening.
There is a juggler in the station, and Mr. Hunter has told
him to come round. The servants say the man is a very
celebrated juggler, one of the best in India, and as the girls
have never seen anything better than the ordinary itinerant
conjurers, my husband has arranged for him to come in here,
and we have been sending notes round asking every one to
come in. \Ve have sent one round to your place, but you
must have come out before the chit arrived.”
“Oh, I should like that very much,” Isobel said. “Two or
three men came to our bungalow at Cawnpore and did some
conjuring, but it was nothing particular ; but uncle says some
of them do wonderful things—things that he cannot account
for at all. That was one of the things I read about at school,
and thought I should like to see, more than anything in India.
\Vhen I was at school we went in a body, two or three times,
to see conjurers when they came to Cheltenham. Of course
I did not understand the things they did, and they seemed
wonderful to me, but I know there are people who can explain
them, and that they are only tricks; but I have read accounts
of things done by jugglers in India that seemed impossible to
explain—really a sort of magic.”
“ I have heard a good many arguments about it,” Mrs.
Hunter said ; “and a good many people, especially those who
have seen most of them, are of opinion that many of the feats
of the Indian jugglers cannot be explained by any natural
laws we know of. I have seen some very curious things
myself, but the very fact that I did not understand how they


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 103
were done was no proof they could not be explained ; certainly
two of their commonest tricks, the basket trick and the mango,
have never been explained. Our conjurers at home can do
something like them, but then that is on a stage, where they
can have trapdoors and all sorts of things, while these are
done anywhere—in a garden, on a road—where there could
be no possible preparation, and with a crowd of lookers-on all
round; it makes me quite uncomfortable to look at it.”
“ Well, I must be off now, Mrs. Hunter; it is nearly time for
uncle to be back, and he likes me to be in when he returns.”
CHAPTER IX.
Dn. \VADE was sitting in the verandah smoking, and reading
an English paper that had arrived by that morning’s mail,
when Isobel returned.
“Good morning, Doctor. Is uncle back 7 ”
“Not yet. He told me he might be half an hour late, and
that I was to come round and amuse you until he came back.”
“ So in my absence you have been amusing yourself, Doctor.
I have been round at Mrs. Hunter’s ; she is going to have a
juggler there this evening, and we are all to go.”
“Yes, I got a chit from her this morning. I have seen
scores of them, but I make a point of never missing an exhibi-
tion when I get the chance. I hate anything I don’t under-
stand, and I go with the faint hope of being able to find things
out, though I know perfectly well that I shall not do so.”
“Then you think it is not all quite natural, Doctor.”
“I don’t say it is not natural, because we don’t know what
all the natural laws are, but I say that some of the things I
have seen certainly are not to be accounted for by anything
we do know. It is not often that the jugglers show their best
tricks to the whites—they know that, as a rule, we are alto-
gether sceptical; but I have seen at native courts more than
once the most astounding things—things alsolutely incompre-
hensible and inexplicable. I don’t suppose we are going to
see anything of that sort to-night, though Mrs. Hunter said
in her note that they had heard from the native servant that
this man was a famous one.
“ There is a sect of people in India, I don’t mean a caste,
but a sort of secret society, who, I believe, claim to be able
by some sort of influence to suspend altogether the laws of


104 R07 UB, THE 7000mm
nature. I do not say that I believe them—-as a scientific man,
it is my duty not to believe them; but I have seen such things
done by some of the higher class of jugglers, and that under
circumstances that did not seem to admit of the possibility of
deception, that I am obliged to suspend my judgment, which,
as you may imagine, my dear, is exceedingly annoying to me;
but some of them do possess to a considerable extent what the
Scotch call second-sight, that is to say, the power of foreseeing
events in the future. Of that I am morally certain; I have
seen proofs of it over and over again. For example, once an
old fakir, whom I had cured of a badly ulcerated limb, came
up just as I was starting on a shooting expedition.
“ ‘ Do not go out to-day,’ he said. ‘ I foresee evil for you.
I saw you last night brought back badly wounded.’
“ ‘ But if I don’t go your dream will come wrong,’ I said.
“He shook his head.
“ ‘You will go in spite of what I say,’ he said; ‘and you
will suffer, and others too ;’ and he looked at a group of
shikaris, who were standing together, ready to make a start.
“ ‘ How many men are there l’ he said.
“ ‘ \Vhy, six of course,’ I replied.
“ ‘ I see only three,’ he said, ‘and three dull spots. One of
those I see is holding his matchlock on his shoulder, another
is examining his priming, the third is sitting down by the fire.
Those three will come back at the end of the day ,' the other
three will not return alive.’
“I felt rather uncomfortable, but I wasn’t, as I said to
myself—I was a. good deal younger then, my dear—such a
fool as to be deterred from what promised to be a good day’s
sport by such nonsense as this ; and I went.
“ \Ve were going after a rogue elephant that had been doing
a lot of damage among the natives’ plantations. We found
him, and a savage brute he turned out to be. He moved just
as I fired, and though I hit him, it was not on the fatal spot,
and he charged right down among us. He caught the very
three men the fakir said were doomed, and dashed the life out
of them ; then he came at me. The bearer had run off with
my second gun, and he seized me and flung me up in the air.
“I fell in a tree, but broke three of my ribs and one of my
arms ; fortunately, though the beast tried to get at me, I was
out of his reach, and the tree was too strong for him to knock
down. Then another man who was with me came up and
killed him, and they got me down and carried me back, and


R0703, THE jUGGLER. :05
I was weeks before I was about again. That was something
more than a coincidence, I think. There were some twenty
men out with us, and just the four he had pointed out were
hurt, and no others.
“ l have seen scores of other cases in which these predictions
have come true, especially in cases of disease 5 though I grant
that here the predictions often bring about their own fulfil-
ment. If a native is told by a fakir, or holy man, that'he is
going to die, he makes no struggle to live. In several cases I
have seen natives, whose deaths have been predicted, die, with-
out, as far as my science could tell me, any disease or ailment
whatever that should have been fatal to them. They simply
sank—died, I should say, from pure fright. But putting aside
this class, I have seen enough to convince me that some at least
among these fanatics do possess the power of second-sight.”
“That is very extraordinary, Doctor. Of course, I have
heard of second-sight among certain old people in Scotland,
but I did not believe in it.”
“I should not have believed in it if I had not seen the same
thing here in India. I naturally have been interested in it,
and have read pretty well everything that has been written
about second-sight among the Highlanders; and some of the
incidents are so well authenticated that I scarcely see how
they can be denied. Of course, there is no accounting for
it, but it is possible that among what we may call primitive
people there are certain intuitions or instincts, call them what
you like, that have been lost by civilised people.
“The power of scent in a dog is something so vastly beyond
anything we can even imagine possible, that though we put it
down to instinct, it is really almost inexplicable. Take the
case that dogs have been known to be taken by railway
journeys of many hundred miles and to have found their
way home again on foot. There is clearly the possession of a
power which is to us absolutely unaccountable.
“But here comes your uncle; he will think I have been
preaching a sermon to you if you look so grave.”
But Major Hannay was too occupied with his own thoughts
to notice Isobel.
“Has anything gone wrong, Major?” the Doctor asked, as
he saw his face.
“ I have just learnt,” the Major said, “that some more
chupaties were brought last night. It is most annoying. I
have questioned several of the native officers, and they profess to


106 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
have no idea whence they came or what is the meaning of them.
I wish we could get to the bottom of this thing; it keeps the
troops in a ferment. If I could get hold of one of these mes-
sengers, I would get out of him all he know, even if I had to
roast him to make him tell.”
“ My dear uncle,” Isobel said reprovingly, “ I am sure you
don’t mean what you say.”
“I don’t know,” he said, half laughing; “I should certainly
consider myself perfectly justified in taking uncommonly strong
steps to try to get to the bottom of this business. The thing
is going on all over India, and it must mean something, and it
is all the worse if taken in connection with this absurd idea
about the greased cartridges. I grant that it was an act of
folly greasing them at all, when we know the idiotic prejudices
the natives have ; still, it could hardly have been foreseen that
this stir would have been made. The issue of the cartridges has
been stopped, but when the natives once get an idea into their
minds, it is next to impossible to disabuse them of it. It is a
tiresome business altogether.”
“Tifiin ready, Sahib,” Rumzan interrupted, coming out on
to the verandah.
“That is right, Rumzan. Now, Isobel, let us think of more
pleasant subjects.”
“\Ve are to go into the Hunters’ this evening, uncle,” Isobel
said, as she sat down. “There is going to be a famous juggler
there. There is a note for you from Mrs. Hunter on the
side-table.” .
“Very well, my dear ; some of these fellows are well worth
seeing. Bathurst is coming in to dinner. I saw him as he was
starting this morning, just as he was going down to the lines,
and he accepted. He said he should be able to get back in
time. However, I don’t suppose he will mind going round
with us. I hope you will come, Doctor, to make up the table.
I have asked the two boys to come in.”
“I shall have to become a permanent boarder at your estab-
lishment, Major. It is really useless my keeping a cook when
I am in here nearly half my time. But I will come. I am
off for three days to-morrow. A villager came in this morning
to beg me to go out to rid them of a. tiger that has established
himself in their neighbourhood, and that is an invitation I
never refuse, if I can possibly manage to make time for it.
Fortunately every one is so healthy here at present, that I
can be very well spared.’ ’


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. I07
At dinner the subject of juggling came up again, and the
two subalterns expressed their opinion strongly that it was all
humbug.
“Dr. Wade believes in it, Mr. Wilson,” Isobel said.
“You don’t say so, Doctor; I should have thought you were
the last sort of man who would have believed in conjurers."
“It requires a wise man to believe, Wilson,” the Doctor
said; “any fool can scoff ; the wise man questions. When
you have been here as long as I have, and if you ever get as
much sense as I have, which is doubtful, you may be less
positive in your ideas, if you can call them ideas.”
“ That is one for me,” Wilson said good humouredly, while
the others laughed.
“ \Vell, I have never seen them, Doctor, except those fellows
who come round to the verandah, and I have seen conjurers
at home do ever so much better tricks than they do.”
“ What do you think of them, Mr. Bathurst?” Isobel asked.
“ I suppose you have seen some of the better sort 7 ”
“I do not know what to think of them, Miss Hannay. I
used to be rather of \Vilson’s opinion, but I have seen things
since that I could not account for at all.‘ There was a man
here two or three months back who astounded me.”
“Mrs. Hunter said that the girls had had no opportunity of
seeing a good conjurer since they came out, Mr. Bathurst. I
suppose they did not know this man you are speaking of being
here?”
“He was only here for a few hours, Miss Hannay. I had
happened to meet him before, and he gave me a private per-
formance, which was quite different to anything I have ever
seen, though I had often heard of the feats he had performed. I
was so impressed with them that I can assure you that for a few
days I had great difficulty in keeping my mind upon my work.”
“ What did he do, Mr. Bathurst?”
Bathurst related the feat of the disappearing girl.
"She must have jumped down when you were not looking,”
Richards said, with an air of conviction. 7
“Possibly,” Bathurst replied quietly; “but as I was within
three or four yards of the pole, and it was perfectly distinct in
the light of my lamp, and as I certainly saw her till she was
some thirty or forty feet up in the air, I don’t see how she can
have managed it. For, even supposing she could have sprung
down that distance without being hurt, she would not have
come down so noiselessly that I should not have heard her."


108 RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER.
“Still, if she did not come down that way, how could she
have come?” Wilson said.
“That is exactly what I can’t make out,” Bathurst replied.
“ If it should happen to be the same man, and he will do the same
thing again, I fancy you will be as much puzzled as I was.”
After dinner was over, the party walked across to Mr.
Hunter’s bungalow, where in a short time the other officers,
their wives, and all the other residents at the station were
assembled. Chairs were placed in the verandah for the ladies,
and a number of lamps hung on the wall, so that a. strong
light was thrown upon the ground in front of it. In addition,
four posts had been driven into the ground some twenty feet
from the verandah, and lamps had been fastened upon them.
“ I don’t know whether the juggler will like that,” Mr.
Hunter said, “and I shan’t light them if he objects. I don’t
think myself it is quite fair having a light behind him; still,
if he agrees, it will be hardly possible for him to make the
slightest movement without being seen.”
The juggler, who was sitting round at the other side of the
house, was now called up. He and the girl, who followed him,
salaamed deeply, and made an even deeper bow to Bathurst,
who was standing behind Isobel’s chair.
“ You must have paid them well, Bathurst,” Major Hannay
said. “ They have evidently a lively remembrance of past
favours. I suppose they are the same you were talking about i ”
“Yes, they are the same people, Major.” Then he said in
the native dialect to the juggler, “ Mr. Hunter has put some
posts with lamps behind you, Rujub, but he hasn’t lit them
because he did not know whether you would object.”
“They can be lighted, Sahib. My feats do not depend on
darkness. Any of the Sahihs who like to stand behind us ctln
do so if they do not come within the line of these posts.”
“ Let us go out there,” Wilson said to Richards, when the
answer was translated; “we will light the lamps, and we
shall see better there than we shall see here.”
The two went round to the other side and lit the lamps,
and the servants stood a short distance off on either side.
The first trick shown was the well-known mango tree.
The juggler placed a seed in the ground, poured some water
upon it from a lota, and covered it with a cloth. In two or
three minutes he lifted this, and a plant four or five inches
high was seen. He covered this with a tall basket, which he
first handed round for inspection. On removing this, a mango


RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER. 109
tree'some three feet high, in full bloom, was seen. It was
again covered, and when the basket was removed it was
seen to be covered with ripe fruit, eliciting exclamations of
astonishment from those among the spectators who had not
before seen the trick performed.
“Now, Wilson,” the Doctor said, “perhaps you will be
kind enough to explain to us all how this was done 7”
“I have no more idea than Adam, Doctor.”
“Then we will leave it to Richards. He promised us at
dinner to keep his eyes well open.”
Richards made no reply.
“ How was it done, Mr. Bathurst '1 It seems almost like a
miracle.”
“I am as ignorant as \Vilson is, Miss Hannay. I can’t
account for it in any way, and I have seen it done a score of
times. Ah ! now he is going to do the basket trick. Don’t
be alarmed when you hear the girl cry out. You may be quite
sure that she is not hurt. The father is deeply attached to
her, and would not hurt a hair of her head.”
Again the usual methods were adopted. The basket was
placed on the ground and the girl stepped into it, without the
pretence of fear usually exhibited by the performers.
Before the trick began, Major Hannay said to Captain
Doolan, “Come round with me to the side of those boys. I
know the first time I saw it done I was nearly throwing
myself on, the juggler. and Wilson is a hot-headed boy, and is
likely as not to do so. If he did, the man would probably
go off in a buff and show us nothing more. From what
Bathurst said, we are likely to see something unusual.”
As soon as the lid was put down, an apparently angry
colloquy took place between the juggler and the girl inside.
Presently the man appeared to become enraged, and snatching
up a long, straight sword from the ground, ran it three or
four times through the basket. A loud shriek followed the
first thrust, and then all was silent.
Some of the ladies rose to their feet with a cry of horror,
Isobel among them. \Vilson and Richards both started to
rush forward, but were seized by the collars by the Major
and Captain Doolan.
“\Vill you open the basket '1” the juggler said quietly to Mrs.
Hunter. As she had seen the trick before she stepped forward
without hesitation, opened the lid of the basket, and said, “ It
is empty.” The jugglcr took it and held it up, bottom upwards,


no RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
“What on earth has become of the girl! ” \Vilson exclaimed.
As he spoke she passed between him and Richards back to
her father’s side.
“Well, I am dashed,” \Vilson murmured. “I would not have
believed it if fifty people had sworn to me they had seen it. ’
He was too much confounded even to reply, when the Doctor
sarcastically said—
“ \Ve are waiting for your explanation, gentlemen.”
“Will you ask him, Major,” Richards said, as he wiped his
forehead with his pocket-handkerchief, “ to make sure that.
she is solid 1 ”
The Major translated the request, and the girl at once came
across, and Richards touched her with evident doubt as to
whether she was really flesh and blood.
There was much curiosity among those who had seen jugglers
before as to what would be the next feat, for generally those
just seen were the closing ones of a performance, but as these
were the first it seemed that those to follow must be extra-
ordinary indeed.
The next feat was the one shown to Bathurst, and was per-
formed exactly as upon that occasion,.except that as the girl
rose beyond the circle of light she remained distinctly visible,
:1 sort of phosphoric light playing around her. Those in the
verandah had come out now, the juggler warning them not
to approach within six feet of the pole.
Higher and higher the girl went, until those below judged
her to be at least a hundred and fifty feet from the ground.
Then the light died out, and she disappeared from their sight.
There was silence for a minute or two, and then the end of the
pole could be seen descending without her. Another minute,
and it was reduced to the length it had been at starting.
The spectators were silent now,- the whole thing was so
strange and mysterious that they had no Words to express
their feeling.
The juggler said something which Mr. Hunter translated
to be a request for all to resume their places.
“That is a wonderful trick,” the Doctor said to Bathurst.
“I have never seen it done that way before, but I once saw
a juggler throw up a rope into. the air; how high it went I
don’t know, for, like this, it was done at night,_but it stood
up perfectly stifl", and the juggler’s attendant climbed up. He
went higher and higher, and we could hear his voice coming
down to us. At last it stopped, and then suddenly the rope


RUYUB, THE YUGGLER. III
'fell in coils on the ground, and the boy Walked quietly in, just
as that girl has done now."
The girl now placed herself in the centre of the open space.
“ You will please not to speak while this trick is being per-
formed," the juggler said; “ harm might come of it. Watch
the ground near her feet.” A minute later a dark object
made its appearance from the ground. It rose higher and
higher with an undulating movement.
“ By Jove, it is a python,” the Doctor whispered in
. Bathurst’s ear. A similar exclamation broke from several of
the others, but the juggler waved his hand with an authorita-
tive hush. The snake rose until its head towered above that
of the girl, and then began to twine itself round her, con-
tinuously rising from the ground until it enveloped her with
five coils, each thicker than a man’s arm. It raised its head
above hers and hissed loudly and angrily; then its tail began
to descend, gradually the coils unwound themselves; lower
and lower it descended until it disappeared altogether.
It was some time before any one spoke, so great was the feel~
ing of wonder. The Doctor was the first to break the silence.
“ I have never seen that before,” he said, “ though I have
heard of it from a native Rajah.”
“ \Vould the Sahibs like to see more i” the juggler asked.
The two Miss Hunters, Mrs. Rintoul, and several of the
others said they had seen enough, but among the men there
was a general wish to see another feat.
“I would not have missed this for anything,” the Doctor
said. “It would be simple madness to throw away such a
chance.” The ladies, therefore, with the exception of Mrs.
Hunter, Mrs. Doolan, and Isobel, retired into the house.
“You must all go on one side now,” the juggler said, “ for
it is only on one side what I am now going to do can be seen.”
He then proceeded to light a. fire of charcoal. \Vhen he had
done this, he said, “The lights must now be extinguished and
the curtains drawn, so that the light will not stream out from
the house.”
As soon as this was done, he poured a. powder over the fire,
and by its faint light the cloud of white smoke could be seen.
“ Now I will show you the past,” he said. “ Who speaks 'l "’
There was silence, and then Dr. \Vade said, “Show me my
ast.”
A faint light stole up over the smoke—it grew brighter and
brighter; and then a. picture was clearly seen upon it.


112 RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER.
It was the sea, a house standing by itself in a garden, and
separated from the water only by a road. Presently the figure
of a girl appeared at the gate, and stepping out, looked down
the road as if waiting for some one. They could make out all
the details of her dress and see her features distinctly. A low
exclamation broke from the Doctor, then the picture gradually
faded away.
“The future!" the juggler said, and gradually an Indian
scene appeared on the smoke. It was a long, straight road,
bordered by a jungle. A native was seen approaching; he
paused in the foreground.
“That is you, Doctor,” Mr. Hunter exclaimed; “you are
got up as a native, but it’s you.”
Almost at the same moment two figures came out from the
jungle. They were also in native dress. \
“ You and Miss Hannay," the Doctor said in a low tone to
Bathurst, “dressed like natives and dyed.” But no one else
detected the disguises, and the picture again faded away.
“That is enough, Rujub," Bathurst said, for he felt Isobel
lean back heavily against the hand which he held at the back
of her chair, and felt sure that she had fainted. .
“Draw back the curtains, some one; I fancy this has bec
too much for Miss Hannay.”
The curtains were thrown back, and Mrs. Hunter, running
in, brought out a lamp. The Doctor had already taken his
place by Isobel's side.
“Yes, she has fainted," he said to Bathurst; “carry her in
her chair as she is, so that she may be in the room when she
comes to.” This was done.
“Now, gentlemen,” the Doctor said, “you had better light
the lamps again out here, and leave the ladies and me to get
Miss Hannay round.”
\Vhen the lamps were lit it was evident that the whole of
the men were a good deal shaken by what they had seen.
“Well,” Mr. Hunter said, “they told me he was a. famous
juggler, but that beat anything I have seen before. I have
heard of such things frequently from natives, but it is very
seldom that Europeans get a chance of seeing them.”
“I don’t want to see anything of the sort again,” Major
Hannay said; “it shakes one’s notions of things in general.
I fancy, Hunter, that we shall want a strong peg all round to
steady our nerves. I own that I feel as shaky as a. boy who
thinks he sees a ghost on his way through a churchyard.”


RUj‘UB, THE jUGGLER. 113
There was a general murmur of agreement, and the mate-
rials were quickly brought.
“Well, Wilson, what do you and Richards think of it?”
the Major went on, after he had braced himself up with a.
strong glass of brandy and water. “I should imagine you both
feel a little less sceptical than you did two hours ago.”
“ I don’t know what Richards feels, Major, but I know I
feel like a fool. I am sorry, Bathurst, for what I said at
dinner; but it really didn’t seem to me to be possible what
you told us about the girl going up into the air and not
coming down again. \Vell, after I have seen what I have
seen this evening, I won’t disbelieve anything I hear in future
about these natives."
“It was natural enough that you should be incredulous,”
Bathurst said. “I should have been just as sceptical as you
were when I first came out, and I have been astonished now,
though I have seen some good jugglers before.”
At this moment the Doctor came out again.
“Miss Hannay is all right again now, Major. I am not
surprised at her fainting; old hand as I am at these matters,
and I think that I have seen as much or more juggling than
any man in India, I felt very queer myself, specially at the
snake business. As I said, I have seen that ascension trick
before, but how it is done I have no more idea than a child.
Those smoke scenes, too, are astonishing. Of course they could
be accounted for as thrown upon a column of white smoke
by a magic lantern, but there was certainly no magic lantern
here. The juggler was standing close to me, and the girl was
sitting at his feet. I watched them both closely, and cer-
tainly they had no apparatus about them by which such views
could be thrown on the smoke.”
“You recognised the first scene, I suppose, Doctor?”
Bathurst asked.
“Perfectly. It took me back twenty-five years. It was
a cottage near Sidmouth, and was correct in every minute
detail. The figure was that of the young lady I married four
years afterwards. Many a time have I seen her standing just
like that, as I went along the road to meet her from the little
inn at which I was stopping ; the very pattern of her dress,
which I need hardly say has never been in my mind all these
years, was recalled to me.
“ Had I been thinking of the scene at the time, I could have
accounted for it somehow, upon the theory that in some way
I!


114 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. I
or other the juggler was conscious of my thought and reflected
it upon the smoke—how, I don’t at all mean to say ,' but un-
doubtedly there exists, to some extent, the power of thought-
reading. It is a mysterious subject, and one of which we
know absolutely nothing at present, but maybe in upwards of
a hundred years mankind will have discovered many secrets
of nature in that direction. But I certainly was not thinking
of that scene when I spoke and said the ‘past.’ I had no doubt
that he would show me something of the past, but certainly
no particular incident passed through my mind before that
picture appeared on the smoke.”
“ The other was almost as curious, Doctor,” Captain Doolan
said, “for it was certainly you masquerading as a. native. I
believe the other was Bathurst ; it struck me so ; and he
seemed to be running off with some native girl. \Vhat on
earth could that all mean ’I”
“It is no use puzzling ourselves about it,” the Doctor said.
“ It may or may not come true. I have no inclination to go
about dressed out as a native at present, but there is no saying
what I may come to. There is quite enough for us to wonder
at in the other things. The mango and basket tricks I have
seen a dozen times, and am no nearer now than I was at first to
understanding them. That ascension trick beats me altogether,
and there was something horribly uncanny about the snake.”
“ Do you think it was a. real snake, Doctor 'l ”
“That I cannot tell you, Richards. Every- movement was
perfectly natural. I could see the working of the ribs as it
wound itself round the girl, and the quivering of its tongue as
it raised its head above her. At any other time I should be
ready to take my aflidavit that it was a python of unusual size,
but at the present moment I should not like to give a decided
opinion about anything connected with the performance.”
“I suppose it is no use asking the juggler any questions,
Hunter 1 ” one of the other men said.
“Not in the least; they never do answer questions. The
higher class of jugglers treat their art as a sort of religious mys—
tery, and there is no instance known of their opening their lips,
although large sums have frequently been offered them. In
the present case you will certainly ask no questions, for the
man and girl have both disappeared with the box and appa-
ratus and everything connected with them. They must have
slipped off directly the last trick was over, and before we had
the lamp lighted. I sent after him at once, but the servant


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. u;
could find no signs of him. I am annoyed because I have not
paid them.”
“ I am not surprised at that,” Dr. Wade said. “It is quite
in accordance with what I have heard of them. They live
by exhibiting what you may call their ordinary tricks; but I
have heard from natives that when they show any what I may
call supernatural feats, they do not take money. It is done to
oblige some powerful Rajah, and as I have said, it is only on a
very few occasions that Europeans have ever seen them. Well,
we may as well go in to the ladies. I don’t fancy any of them
would be inclined to come out on to the verandah again this
evening.”
No one was indeed inclined even for talk, and in a very
short time the party broke up and returned home.
“Come and smoke a pipe with me, Bathurst, before you
turn in,” the Doctor said, as they went out. “I don’t think
either of us will be likely to go to sleep for some time. \Vhat
is your impression of all this'l”
“My impression, certainly, is that it is entirely unaccount-
able by any laws with which we are acquainted, Doctor.”
“That is just my idea, and always has been since I first saw
any really good juggling out here. I don’t believe in the least
in anything supernatural, but I can quite believe that there are
_many natural laws of which at present we are entirely igno-
rant. I believe the knowledge of them at one time existed,
but has been entirely lost, at any rate among Western peoples.
The belief in magic is as old as anything we have knowledge
of. The magicians at the Court of Pharaoh threw down
their rods, and turned them into serpents. The Witch of
Endor called up the spirit of Samuel. The Greeks, by no
means a nation. of fools, believed implicitly in the Oracles.
Coming down to comparatively later times, the workers of
magic burnt their books before St. Paul. It doesn’t say,
mind you, that those who pretended to work magic did so;
but those who worked magic.
“Early travellers in Persia and India have reported things
they saw far surpassing any we have witnessed this evening,
and there is certainly a sect in India at present, or rather a
body of men, and those, as far as I have been able to learn, of
an exceptionally intelligent class, who believe that they possess
an almost absolute mastery over the powers of nature. You
see, fifty years back, if any one had talked about travelling at
fifty miles an hour, or sending a message five thousand miles in


116 RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER.
a minute, he would have been regarded as a madman. There
may yet be other discoveries as startling to be made
“\Vhen I was in England, I heard something of a set of
people in America, who called themselves Spiritualists, some of
whom—notably a young man named Home—claimed to have
the power of raising themselves through the air. I am far
from saying that such a power exists; it is of course contrary to
what we know of the laws of nature, but should such a power
exist, it would account for the disappearance of the girl from
the top of the pole. Highland second-sight, carried somewhat
farther, and united with the power of conveying the impressions
to others, would account for the pictures on the smoke, that is,
supposing them to be true, and personally I own that I expect
they will prove to be true—unlikely as it may seem that you, I,
and Miss Hannay will ever be going about in native attire.”
By this time they had reached the Doctor’s bungalow, and
had comfortably seated themselves.
“There is one thing that flashed across me this evening,"
Bathurst said. “I told you, that first evening I met Miss
Hannay, that I had a distinct knowledge of her face. You
laughed at me at the time, and it certainly seemed absurd, but ‘
1 was convinced I was not wrong. Now I know how it was;
I told you at dinner to-day about the feat of the girl going up
and not coming down again; but I did not tell you—for you
can understand it is a thing that I should not care to talk much
about~that he showed me a picture like those we saw to-night.
“ It was a house standing in a courtyard, with a high wall
round it. I did not particularly observe the house. It was of
the ordinary native type, and might, for anything I know, he
the house in the middle of this station used as a court-house
by Hunter, and for keeping stores, and so on. I don’t say it
was that; I did not notice it much. There was a breach in
the outside wall, and round it there was a fierce fight going on.
A party of oflicers and civilians were repelling the assault ofa
body of Sepoys. On the terraced roof of the house others were
standing firing and looking on, and I think engaged in loading
rifles were two or three women. One of them I particularly
noticed, and now I recall it, her face was that of Miss Hannay;
of that I am absolutely certain.”
“ It is curious, lad,” the Doctor said, after a pause ; “and
the picture, you see, has so far come true, that you have made
the acquaintance with one of the actors whom you did not
previously know.”


RUjUB, THE YUGGLER. 117
“I did not believe in the truth of it, Doctor, and I do not
believe in it now. 'l‘here was one feature in the fight which
was, as I regret to know, impossible.”
“And what was that, Bathurst ? ”
Bathurst was silent for a time.
“You are an old friend, Doctor, and you will understand
my case, and make more allowances for it than most people
would. When I first came out here I daresay you heard some
sort of reports as to why I had left the army and had after-
wards entered the Civil Service."
“There were some stupid rumours,” the Doctor said, “that
you had gone home on sick leave just after the battle of
Chillianwalla, and had then sold out, because you had shown
the white feather. I need not say that I did not give any
credit to it ; there is always gossip flying about as to the
reasons a man leaves the army.”
“It was quite true, Doctor. It is a hideous thing to say,
but constitutionally I am a coward.”
“I cannot believe it,” the Doctor said warmly. “Now
that I know you, you are the last man of whom I would credit
such a thing.”
“ It is the bane of my life,” Bathurst went on. “ It is my
misfortune, for I will not allow it is my fault. In many
things I am not a coward. I think I could face any danger
if the danger were a silent one, but I cannot stand noise.
The report of a gun makes me tremble all over, even when
it is a blank cartridge that is fired. \Vhen I was born, my
father was in India. A short time before I came into the world,
my mother had a great fright. Her house in the country was
broken into by burg‘ars, who entered the room and threatened
to blow out her brains if she moved ; but the alarm was given,
the men-servants came down armed, there was a struggle in
her room, pistol shots were fired, and the burglars were over-
powered and captured. My mother fainted and was ill for
weeks afterwards—in fact, until the time I was born ; and she
died a few days later, never having, the Doctor said, recovered
from the shock she had suffered that night.
“I grew up a weakly, timid boy—the sort of boy that is
always bullied at school. My father, as you know, was a
general officer, and did not return home until I was ten years
old. He was naturally much disappointed in me, and I think
that added to my timidity, for it grew upon me rather than
otherwise. Morally, I was not a coward. At school, I can


118 RUJUB, THE jUGGLER.
say that I never told a lie to avoid punishment, and my
readiness to speak the truth did not add to my popularity
among the other boys, and I used to be called a sneak, which
was even more hateful than being called a coward.
“As I grew up I shook off my delicacy, and grew, as you see,
into a. strong man. I then fought several battles at school; I
learnt to ride, and came to have confidence in myself, and though
I had no particular fancy for the army, my father’s heart was so
set on it that I offered no objections. That the sound of a gun
was abhorrent to me I knew, for the first time my father put
a gun in my hand and I fired it, I fainted, and nothing would
persuade me to try again. Still I thought that this was the
result of nervousness as to firing it myself, and that I should
get over it in time.
“A month or two after I was gazetted, I went out to India
with the regiment, and arrived just in time to get up by
forced marches to take part in the battle of Chillianwalla.
The consequence was that up to that time I literally had
heard no musketry practice.
“ Of the events of that battle I have no remembrance what-
ever ; from the moment the first gun was fired to the end of the
day I was as one paralysed. I saw nothing, I heard nothing,
I moved mechanically ; but happily my will or my instinct kept
me in my place in the regiment. “Then all was over, and
silence followed the din, I fell to the ground insensible.
Happily for me the doctors declared I was in a state of high
fever, and so I remained for a fortnight. As soon as I got
better I was sent down the country, and I at once sent in my
papers, and went home. No doubt the affair was talked of,
and there were whispers as to the real cause of my illness. My
father was terribly angry when I returned home and told him
the truth of the matter. That his son should be a coward was
naturally an awful blow to him. Home was too unhappy to
be endured, and when an uncle of mine, who was a director on
the Company’s Board, offered me a berth in the Civil Service, I
thankfully accepted it, believing that in that capacity I need
never hear a gun fired again.
“ You will understand, then, the anxiety I am feeling owing
to these rumours of disaffection among the Sepoys, and the
possibility of anything like a general mutiny.
“It is not of being killed that I have any fear; upon the con-
trary, I have suffered so much in the last eight years from the
consciousness that the reason why I left the army was widely


RUj’UB, THE ychLER. 119
known, that I should welcome death, if it came to me noise-
lessly ,' but the thought that if there is trouble I shall assuredly
not be able to play my part like a man, fills me with absolute
horror, and now more than ever.
“So you will understand now why the picture I saw, in
which I was fighting in the middle of the Sepoys, is to me not
only improbable, but simply impossible. It is a horrible story
to have to tell. This is the first time I have opened my lips
on the subject since I spoke to my father, but I know that you,
both as a friend and a doctor, will pity rather than blame me.”
CHAPTER X.
As Bathurst brought his story to its conclusion the Doctor
rose and placed his hand kindly on his shoulder.
“ I certainly should not think of blaming you, Bathurst.
\Vhat you tell me is indeed a terrible misfortune, situated as
we may be soon, though I trust and believe that all this talk
about the Sepoys is moonshine. I own that I am surprised at
your story, for I should have said from my knowledge of you
that though, as I could perceive, of a nervous temperament, you
were likely to be cool and collected in danger. But certainly
your failing is no fault of your own.”
“ That is but a sinall consolation to me, Doctor. Men do not
ask why and wherefore—they simply point the finger of scorn
at a coward. The misfortune is that I am here. I might have
lived a hundred lives in England and never once had occasion to
face danger, and I thought thatI should have been equally secure
as an Indian civilian. Now this trouble is coming upon us.”
“Why don’t you take your leave, lad’I You have been out
seven years now without a day’s relaxation, except, indeed, the
three days you were over with me at Cawnpore. IVhy not apply
for a year’s leave? You have a good excuse, too ; you did not
go home at the death of your father, two years ago, and could
very well plead urgent family affairs requiring your presence
in England.”
“No, I will not do that, Doctor; I will not run away from
danger again. You understand me, I have not the least fear
of the danger; I in no way hold to my life ; I do not think I
am afraid of physical pain. It seems to me that I could under-
take any desperate service; I dread it simply because I know
that when the din of battle begins my body will overmaster


120 RUjUB, THE FUGGLER.
my mind, and that I shall be as I was at Chillianwalla, com-
pletely paralysed. You wondered to-night why that juggler
should have exhibited feats seldom, almost never, shown to
Europeans? He did it to please me. I saved his daughter's
life—this is between ourselves, Doctor, and is not to go farther.
But, riding in from Narkeet, I heard a cry, and hurrying on,
came upon that man-eater you shot the other day, standing
over the girl, with her father half beside himself, gesticulating
in front of him. I jumped off and attacked the brute with my
heavy hunting-whip, and he was so completely astonished that
he turned tail and bolted."
“The deuce he did,” the Doctor exclaimed; “and yet you
talk of being a coward !”
“ N 0, I do not say that I am a coward generally ; as long as
I have to confront danger without noise I believe I could do
as well as most men.”
“But why didn’t you mention this business with the tiger,
Bathurst l "
“Because, in the first place, it was the work of a mere passing
impulse ; and in the second, because I should have gained credit
for being what I am not—a brave man. It will be bad enough
when the truth becomes known, but it would be all the worse if
I had been trading on a false reputation ; therefore I particu-
larly charged Rujub to say nothing about the affair to any one.”
“ Well, putting this for a time aside, Bathurst, what do you
think of that curious scene, you and I and Miss Hannay dis-
guised as natives ’! ”
“ Taking it with the one I saw of the attack of Sepoys upon a
house, it looks to me, Doctor, as if there would be a mutiny,
and that that mutiny would be attended with partial success,
that a portion of the garrison, at any rate, will escape, and
that Miss Hannay will be travelling down the country, perhaps
to Cawnpore, in your charge, while I in some way shall be
with you, perhaps acting as guide.”
“It may possibly be so," the Doctor agreed. “It is at any
rate very curious. I wonder whether Miss Hannay recognised
herself in the disguise.”
“I should hope not, Doctor 3 if it all comes true there will be
enough for her to bear without looking forward to that. I should
be glad if the detachment were ordered back to Cawnpore.”
“Well, I should not have thought that, Bathurst.”
“ I know what you mean, Doctor, but it is for that reason I
wish they were gone. I believe now that you insisted on my


RUFUB, THE jUGGLER. 12!
coming down to spend those three days with you at Cawnpore
specially that I might meet her.”
“That is so, Bathurst. I like her so much that I should be
very sorry to see her throw herself away upon some empty-
lieaded fool. I like her greatly, and I was convinced that you
were just the man to make her happy; and as I knew that you
had good prospects in England, I thought it would be a capital
match for her, although you are but a young civilian ; and I own
that of late I have thought things were going on very well.”
“Perhaps it might have been so, Doctor, had it not been for
this coming trouble, which, if our fears are realised, will entirely
put an end even to the possibility of what you are talking about.
I shall be shown to be a coward, and I shall do my best to put
myself in the way of being killed. I should not like to blow my
brains out, but if the worst comes to the worst, I will do that
rather than go on living after I have again disgraced myself.”
“You look at it too seriously, Bathurst.”
“ Not a bit of it, Doctor, and you know it.”
“But if the Sepoys rise, Bathurst, why should they harm
their officers? They may be discontented, they may have a
grievance against the Government, they may refuse to obey
orders and may disband ; but why on earth should they attack
men who have always been kind to them, whom they have
followed in battle, and against whom they have not as much
as a shadow of complaint?”
“I hope it may be so most sincerely,” Bathurst said; “but
one never can say. I can hardly bring myself to believe
that they will attack the officers, much less injure women and
children. Still, I have a most uneasy foreboding of evil.”
“You have heard nothing from the natives as to any coming
trouble ’1 ”
“Nothing at all, Doctor, and I am convinced that nothing is
known among them, or at any rate by the great bulk of them.
Only one person has ever said a word to me that could indicate
a knowledge of coming trouble, and that was this juggler we
saw to-night. I thought nothing of his words at the time.
That picture he showed me of the attack by Sepoys first gave me
an idea that his words might mean something. Since then. we
have heard much more of this discontent, and I am convinced
now that the words had a meaning. They were simple enough.
It was merely his assurance, two or three times repeated, that
he would be ready to repay the service I had rendered him with
his life. It might have been a mere phrase, and so I thought


122 RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
at the time. But I think now he had before him the possibility
of some event occurring in which he might be able to repay the
service I had rendered him.”
“There may have been something in it and there may not,”
the Doctor said; “ but, at any rate, Bathurst, he ought to be a
potent ally. There doesn’t seem any limit to his powers, and
he might, for aught one knows, be able to convey you away as
he did his daughter."
The Doctor spoke lightly, and then added, “ But seriously, the
man might be of service. These jugglers go among people of all
classes. They are like the troubadours of the Middle Ages, wel-
comed everywhere ; and they no doubt have every opportunity
of learning what is going on, and it may be that he will be able
to give you timely warning should there be any trouble at hand.”
“ That is possible enough,” Bathurst agreed. “Well, Doctor,
I shall be on horseback at six, so it is time for me to turn in,”
and taking his hat, walked across to his own bungalow.
The Doctor sat for some time smoking before he turned into
bed. He had, as he had said, heard rumours, when Bathurst
first came out, that he had shown the white feather, but he had
paid little attention to it at the time. They had been together
at the first station to which Bathurst was appointed when he
came out, and he had come to like him greatly; but his evident
disinclination to join in any society, his absorption in his work,
and a certain air of gravity unnatural in a young man of twenty,
had puzzled him. He had at the time come to the conclusion
that he must have had some unfortunate love affair, or have got
into some very serious trouble at home. In time that impression
had worn off. A young man speedily recovers from such a blow,
however heavy, but no change had taken place in Bathurst, and
the Doctor had in time become so accustomed to his manner
that he had ceased to wonder over it. Now it was all explained.
He sat thinking over it deeply for an hour, and then laid down
his pipe.
“ It is a terrible pity he came out here,” he said. “ Of course
it is not his fault in the slightest degree. One might as well
blame a man for being born a hunchback ; but if there should
be a row out here it will be terrible for him. I can quite under-
stand his feeling about it. If I were placed as he is, and were
called upon to fight, I should take a dose of prussic-acid at once.
Men talk about their civilisation, but we are little better than
savages in our instincts. Courage is an almost useless virtue
in a civilised community, but if it is called for, we despise a man


RUjUB, THE 7UGGLER. 123
in whom it is wanting, ust as heartily as our tattooed ancestors
did. Of course, in him it is a purely constitutional failing, and
I have no doubt he would be as brave as a lion in any other
circumstances; in fact, the incident of his attacking the tiger
with that dog-whip of his shows that he is so; and yet, if he
should fail when the lives of women are at stake, it would be
a kindness to give him that dose of prussic-acid, especially as
Isobel Hannay will be here. That is the hardest part of it to
him, I can see.”
Three days later the force at Deennugghur was increased
by the arrival of a troop of native cavalry, under a Captain
Forster, who had just returned from leave in England.
“ Do you know Captain Forster, Doctor?” Isobel Hannay
asked, on the afternoon of his arrival. “Uncle tells me he is
coming to dinner.”
“Then you must look after your heart, my dear. He is one
of the best-looking fellows out here, a dashing soldier, and a
devoted servant of the fair sex.”
“You don’t like him, Doctor,” Isobel said quietly.
“I have not said so, my dear—far from it. I think I said
a good deal for him.”
“Yes, but you don’t like him, Doctor. \Vhy is that? ”
“I suppose because he is not my sort of man,” the Doctor
said. “ I have not seen him since his regiment and ours were
at Delhi together, and we did not see much of each other then.
Our tastes did not lie in the same direction.”
“ \Vell, I know what your tastes are, Doctor; what are his?”
“ I will leave you to find out, my dear. He isall I told you—-
a very handsome man, with, as is perhaps natural, a very good
opinion of himself, and he distinguished himself more than once
in the Punjaub by acts of personal gallantry. I have no doubt
he thinks it an awful nuisance coming to a quiet little station
like this, and he will probably try to while away his time by
making himself very agreeable to you. But I don’t think you
need quite believe all that he says.”
“ I have long ago got over the weakness of believing people’s
flattery, Doctor. However, now you have forewarned me I
am forearmed.”
The Doctor hesitated, and then said gravely, “ It is not
my habit to speak ill of people, my dear. You do me the
justice to believe that 'i ”
“I am sure it is not, Doctor."
“ Well, child, in a station like this you must see a good deal of


124 RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER.
this man. He is a man who has won many hearts, and thrown
them away. Don’t let him win yours. He is not a good man ;
he has been mixed up in several grave scandals; he has been
the ruin of more than one young man at cards and billiards;
he is in all respects a dangerous man. Anatomically I suppose
he has a heart, morally he has nota vestige of one. \Vhat-
ever you do, child, don’t let him make you like him.”
"I don’t think there is much fear of that, Doctor, after
what you have said,” she replied, with a quiet smile ; “and I
am obliged to you indeed for warning me.”
“ I know I am an old fool for meddling, but you know, my
dear, I feel a sort of personal relationship to you, after your
having been in my charge for six months. I don’t know a
single man in all India whom I would not rather see you fall
in love with than with Captain Forster.”
“I thought uncle did not seem particularly pleased when
he came in to tif‘fin, and said there was a new arrival.”
“ I should think not,” the Doctor said ; “the man is notori-
ousl y a dangerous fellow; and yet, as he has never actually out-
stepped what are considered the bounds which constitute an
officer and a gentleman, he has retained his commission, but it
has been a pretty close shave once or twice. Your uncle must
know all about him, every one does; but I don’t suppose the
Major will open his mouth to you on the subject—he is one of
those chivalrous sort of men who never thinks evil of any one,
unless he is absolutely obliged to; but in a case like this I
think he is wrong. At any rate, I have done what I consider
to be my duty in the matter. Now I leave it in your hands.
I am glad to see that you are looking quite yourself again, and
have got over your fainting fit of the other night. I quite
expected to be sent for professionally the next morning.”
“ Oh yes, I have quite get over it, Doctor; I can’t make out
how I was so silly as to faint. I never did such a thing before,
but it was so strange and mysterious that I felt quite be-
wildered, and the picture quite frightened me, but I don’t
know why. This is the first chance I have had since of speak-
ing to you alone. What do you think of it, and why should
you be dressed up as a native? and why should—l” She
stopped with a heightened colour on her cheeks.
“You and Bathurst be dressed up, too? So you noticed
your own likeness ,' nobody else but Bathurst and myself recog-
nised the two figures that came out of the wood.”
“ Oh, you saw it too, Doctor. I thought I might have been


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 12;
mistaken, for, besides being stained, the face was all obscured
somehow. Neither uncle, nor Mrs. Hunter, nor the girls, nor
any one else I have spoken to seem to have had an idea it was
me, though they all recognised you. What could it mean?”
“I have not the slightest idea in the world,” the Doctor
said; “ very likely it meant nothing. I certainly should not
think any more about it. These jugglers’ tricks are curious
and unaccountable; but it is no use our worrying ourselves
about them. Maybe we are all going to get up private
theatricals some day, and perform an Indian drama. I have
never taken any part in tomfoolerics of that sort so far, but
there is no saying what I may come to."
“ Are you going to dine here, Doctor? ”
“No, my dear; the Major asked me to come in, but I de-
clined. I told him frankly that I did not like Forster, and
that the less I saw of him the better I should be pleased.”
‘ The other guests turned out to be Captain and Mrs. Doolan
and Mr. Congreave, one of the civilians at the station. The.
Doolans arrived first. .
“ You have not seen Captain Forster yet, Isobel,” Mrs.
Doolan said, as they sat down for a chat together. “ I met
him at Delhi soon after I came out. He is quite my beau ideal
of a soldier in appearance, but I don’t think he is nice, Isobel.
I have heard all sorts of stories about him.”
“ Is that meant as a warning for me, Mrs. Doolan i” Isobel
asked, smiling.
“ \Vell, yes, I think it is, if you don’t mind my giving you
one. There are some men one can flirt with as much as one
likes, and there are some men one can’t; he is one of that sort.
Privately, my dear, I don’t mind telling you that at one time
I did flirt with him—I had been accustomed to flirt in Ireland;
we all flirt there, and mean nothing by it; but I had to give
it up very suddenly. It wouldn’t do, my dear, at all ; his ideas
of flirtation differed utterly from mine. I found I was playing
with fire, and was fortunate in getting off without singeing my
\'ings,which is more than a good many others would have done.”
“He must be a horrid sort of man," Isobel said indignantly.
Mrs. Doolan laughed. “I don’t think you will find him so;
certainly that is not the general opinion of women. However,
you will see him for yourself in a few minutes.”
Isobel looked up with some curiosity when Captain Forster
was announced, and at once admitted to herself that the Doctor’s
report as to his personal appearance was fully justified. He


126 RUjUB, THE fUGGLER.
stood over six feet high, with a powerful frame, and an easy
careless bearing; his hair was out rather close, he wore a long
tawny moustache, his eyes were dark, his teeth Very white
and perfect. A momentary look of surprise came across his
face as his eyes fell on Isobel.
“I had hardly expected,” he said, as the Major introduced
him to her, “to find no less than three unmarried ladies at
Deennugghur. I had the pleasure of being introduced to the
Miss Hunters this afternoon. How do you do, Mrs. Doolan?
I think it is four years since I had the pleasure of knowing
you in Delhi.”
“ I believe that is the number, Captain Forster. ”
“ It seems a. very long time to me,” he said.
“I thought you would say that,” she laughed. “It was
quite the proper thing to say, Captain Forster; but I have no
doubt it does seem longer to you than it does to me as you have
been home since.”
“ We are all here,” the Major broke in. “Captain Forster,
will you take my niece in l”
. “I suppose you find this very dull after Cawnpore, Miss
Hannay 'l ” Captain Forster asked.
“Indeed,I do not," Isobel said. “I like it better here; every-
thing is sociable and pleasant, while at Cawnpore there was
much more formality. Of course, there were lots of dinner-
parties, but I don’t care for large dinner-parties at all ; it is
so hot, and they last such a time. I think six is quite large
enough. Then there is a general talk, and every one can join
in just as much as they like, while at a large dinner you have
to rely entirely upon one person, and I think it is very hard
work having to talk for an hour and a half to a stranger of
whom you know nothing. Don’t you agree with me?”
“Entirely, Miss Hannay; I am a pretty good hand at talking,
but at times I have found it very hard work, I can assure you,
especially when you take down a stranger to the station, so
that you have no mutual acquaintance to pull to pieces.”
The dinner was bright and pleasant, and when the evening
was over, Isobel said to her uncle, “I think Captain Forster
is very amusing, uncle.”
“Yes,” the Major agreed, “he is a good talker, a regular
society man; he is no great favourite of mine ; I think he will
be a little too much for us in a small station like this."
“ How do you mean too much, uncle?”
The Major hesitated.


RUjUB, THE fUGGLER. 127
“ Well, he won’t have much to do with his troop of horse,
and time will hang heavy on his hands."
“ Well, there is shooting, uncle.”
“Yes, there is shooting, but I don’t think that is much in
his line. Tiflins and calls, and society generally, occupy most
of his time, I fancy, and I think he is fender of billiards and
cards than is good for him or others. Of course, being here
by himself, as he is, we must do our best to be civil to him, and
that sort of thing, but if we were at Cawnpore he is a man I
should not care about being intimate in the house.”
“I understand, uncle; but certainly be is pleasant.”
“Oh yes, he is very pleasant,” the Major said drily, in a.
tone that seemed to express that Forster-’s power of making him-
self pleasant was by no means a recommendation in his eyes.
But Captain Forster had apparently no idea whatever that
his society could be anything but welcome, and called the next
day after luncheon.
“ I have been leaving my pasteboard at all the residents,”
he said 3 “ not a very large circle. Of course, I knew Mrs.
Rintoul at Delhi, as well as Mrs. Doolan. I did not know
any of the others. They seem pleasant people.”
“They are very pleasant,” Isobel said.
“I left one for a man named Bathurst. He was out. Is
that the Bathurst, Major Hannay, who was in a line regiment,
I forget its number, and left very suddenly in the middle of
the fighting in the Punjaub 'l ”
“Yes ; I believe Bath urst was in the army about that
time,” the Major said; “ but I don’t know anything about the
circumstances of his leaving.”
Had Captain Forster known the Major better, he would have
been aware that what he meant to say was that he did not wish
to know, but he did not detect the inflection of his voice, and went
on—“They say he showed the white feather. If it is the same
man, I was at school with him, and unless he has improved since
then, I am sure I have no wish to renew his acquaintance.”
“I like him very much,” the Major said shortly; “be is
.great friends with Dr. Wade, who has the very highest opinion
of him, and I believe he is generally considered to be one of
the most rising young oflicers of his grade.”
“ Oh, I have nothing to say against him,” Captain Forster
said ; “ but he was a. poor creature at school, and I do not think
that there was any love lost between us. Did you know him
before you came here 7” l


RUjUB, THE j‘UGGLER. 129
The Doctor chuckled. “ Well, that is true enough, my dear.
There was no harm in that.”
“ And then he said—” and she broke ofl’—“ he said what I
feel sure cannot be true. He said that Mr. Bathurst left the
army because he showed the white feather. It is not true, is
it? I am sure it can’t be true."
The Doctor did not reply immediately.
“It is an old story,” he said presently, “and ought not to
have been brought up again. I don’t suppose Forster or any one
else knows the rights of the case; \Vhen a man leaves his regi-
ment and retires when it is upon active service, there are sure
to be spiteful stories getting about, often without the slightest
foundation. But even if it had been true, it would hardly be
to Bathurst’s disadvantage now he is no longer in the army, and
courage is not a vital necessity on the part of a civilian.”
“ You can’t mean that, Doctor; surely every man ought to
be brave. Gould any one possibly respect a man who is a
coward? I don’t believe it, Doctor, for a moment.”
“Courage, my dear, is not a universal endowment—it is a
physical as much as a moral virtue. Some people are physically
brave and morally cowards ,' others are exactly the reverse.
Some people are constitutionally cowards all round, while in
others cowardice shows itself only partially. I have known a
man who is as brave as a lion in battle, but is terrified by a
rat. I have known a man brave in other respects lose his nerve
altogether in a thunderstorm. In neither of these cases was
it the man’s own fault ; it was constitutional, and by no effort
could he conquer it. I consider Bathurst to be an exceptionally
noble character. I am sure that he is capable of acts of great
bravery in some directions, but it is possible that he is, like the
man I have spoken of, constitutionally weak in others.”
“ But the great thing is to be brave in battle, Doctor! You
would not call a man a coward simply because he was afraid of
a rat, but you would call a man a coward who was afraid in
battle. To be a coward there, seems to me to be a coward all
round. I have always thought the one virtue in man I really
envied was bravery, and that a coward was the most despicable
creature living. It might not be his actual fault, but one can’t
help that. It is not any one’s fault if he is fearfully ugly or
born an idiot, for example. But cowardice seems somehow
different. Not to be brave when he-is strong seems to put a
man below the level of a woman. I feel sure, Doctor, there
must be some mistake, and that this story cannot be true. I
I


130 R0703, THE fUGGLER.
have seen a good deal of Mr. Bathurst since we have been here,
and you have always spoken so well of him, he is the last man
I should have thought would be—would be like that.”
“ I know the circumstances of the case, child. You can trust
me when I say that there is nothing in Bathurst’s conduct that
diminishes my respect for him in the slightest degree, and that
in some respects he is as brave a man as any I know."
“Yes, Doctor, all that may be; but you do not answer
my question. Did Mr. Bathurst leave the army because he
showed cowardice? If he did, and you knew it, why did you
invite him here? why did you always praise him? why did
you not say, ‘ In other respects this man may be good and esti-
mable, but he is that most despicable thing, a coward ’ 'l ”
There was such a passion of pain in her voice and face that
the Doctor only said quietly, “ I did not know it, my dear, or
I should have told you at first that in this one point he was
wanting. It is, I consider, the duty of those who know things
to speak out. But he is certainly not what you say.”
Isobel tossed her head impatiently. “ We need not discuss
it, Doctor. It is nothing to me whether Mr. Bathurst is
brave or not, only it is not quite pleasant to learn that you
have been getting on friendly terms with a man who—” '
“Don’t say any more,” the Doctor broke in. “You might
at least remember he is a friend of mine. There is no occasion
for us to quarrel, my dear, and to prevent the possibility of
such a thing I will be ofl“ at once.”
After he had left Isobel sat down to think over what had
been said. He had not directly answered her questions, but
he had not denied that the rumour that Bathurst had retired
from the army because he was wanting in courage was well
founded. Everything he had said, in fact, was an excuse
rather than a denial. The Doctor was as staunch a friend as
he was bitter an opponent. Could he have denied it he would
have done so strongly and indignantly.
It was clear that, much as he liked Bathurst, he believed
him wanting in physical courage. He had said, indeed, that
he believed he was brave in some respects, and had asserted
that he knew of one exceptional act of courage that he had per-
formed ; but what was that if a man had had to leave the army
because he was a coward '! To Isobel it seemed that of all things
it was most dreadful that a man should be wanting in courage.
Tales of daring and bravery had always been her special delight,
and being full of life and spirit herself, it had not seemed eVen


RUyUB, THE jUGGLER. 131
possible to her that a gentleman could be a coward, and that
Bathurst could be so was to her well-nigh incredible.
It might, as the Doctor had urged, be in no way his fault,
but this did not affect the fact. He might be more to be
pitied than to be blamed ; but pity of that kind, so far from
being akin to love, was destructive of it.
Unconsciously she had raised Bathurst on a lofty pinnacle.
The Doctor had spoken very highly of him. She had admired
the energy with which, instead of caring, as others did, for
pleasure, he devoted himself to his work. Older men than
himself listened to his opinions. His quiet and somewhat
restrained manner was in contrast to the careless fun and
good humour of most of those with whom she came in con-
tact. It had seemed to her that he was a strong man, one
who could be relied upon implicitly at all times, and she had
come in the few weeks she had been at Deennugghur to rely
upon his opinion, and -to look forward to his visits, and even
to acknowledge to herself that he approached her ideal of
what a man should be more than any one else she had met.
And now this was all shattered at a blow. He was wanting
in man’s first attribute. He had left the army, if not in dis-
grace, at least under a cloud, and even his warm friend the
Doctor could not deny that the accusation of cowardice was
well founded. The pain of the discovery opened her eyes to
the fact which she had not before, even remotely, admitted to
herself, that she was beginning to love him, and the discovery
was a bitter one.
“I may thank Captain Forster for that at least,” she said
to herself, as she angrily wiped a tear from her cheek; “he
has opened my eyes in time. \Vhat should I have felt if I
had found too late that I had come to love a man who was a
coward—who had left the army because he was afraid? I
should have despised myself as much as I should despise him.
\Vell, that is my first lesson. I shall not trust in appearances
again. ‘Vhy, I would rather marry a man like Captain Forster,
even if everything they say about him is true, than a man who
is a. coward. At least he is brave, and has shown himself so.”
The Doctor had gone away in a state of extreme irritation.
“ Confound the meddling scoundrel,” he said to himself, as
he surprised the horse with a sharp cut of the whip. “J ust
when things were going on as I wished. I had quite set my
mind on it, and though I am sure Bathurst would never have
spoken to her till he had told her himself about that unfortunate


I32 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
failing of his, it would have been altogether different coming
from his own lips just as he told it to me. Of course, my lips
were sealed and I could not put the case in the right light.
I would give three months’ pay for the satisfaction of horse-
whipping that fellow Forster. Still, I can’t say he did it
maliciously, for he could not have known Bathurst was inti-
mate there, or that there was anything between them. The
question is, am I to tell Bathurst that she has heard about it?
I suppose I had better. Ah, here is the Major,” and he drew
up his horse. “Anything new, Major? You look put out.”
“Yes, there is very bad news, Doctor. A Sowar has just
brought a letter to me from the Colonel saying that the General
has got a. telegram that the 19th Native Infantry at Berham-
pore have refused to use the cartridges served out to them,
and that yesterday a Sepoy of the 34th at Barrackpore raised
seditious cries in front of the lines, and when Baugh, the
adjutant, and the sergeant-major attempted to seize him, he
wounded them both, while the regiment stood by and' refused
to aid them. The 19th are to be disbanded, and no doubt
the 34th will be too.”
“ That is bad news indeed, Major, and looks as if this talk
about general disaffection were true. Had there been trouble
but at one station it might have been the effect of some local
grievance, but happening at two places, it looks as if it were
part of a general plot. Well, we must hope it Will go no
farther.”
“It is very had,” said the Major, “but at any rate we may
hope we shall have no troubles here ; the regiment has always
behaved well, and I am sure they have no reason to complain
of their treatment. If the Colonel has a fault, it is that of
over-leniency with the men.”
“That is so,” the Doctor agreed; “but the fact is, ,Major,
we know really very little about the Hindoo mind. > we can
say with some sort of certainty what Europeans will do under
given circumstances, but though I know the natives, I think,
pretty nearly as well as most men, I feel that I really know
nothing about them. They appear mild and submissive, and
have certainly proved faithful on a hundred battlefields, but
we don’t know whether that is their real character. Their
own history, before we stepped in and altered its current, shows
them as faithless, bloodthirsty and cruel; whether they have
changed their nature under our rule, or simply disguised it,
Heaven only knows.” I


R0705, THE jUGGLER. 133
“At any rate,” the Major said, “ they have always shown
themselves attached to their English othcers. There are num-
berless instances where they have displayed the utmOst devo-
tion for them, and although some scheming intriguers may have
sown the seeds of discontent among them, and these lies about
the cartridges may have excited their religious prejudices and
may even lead them to mutiny, I cannot believe for an instant
that the Sepoys will lift their hands against their oflicers.”
“I hope not,” the Doctor said gravely. “A tiger’s cub,
when tamed, is one of the prettiest of playthings, but when it
once tastes blood, it is as savage a beast as its mother was
before it. Of course, I hope for the best, but if the Sepoys
once break loose I would not answer for anythingr they might
do. They have been pretty well spoilt, Major, till they have
come to believe that it is they who conquered India and
not we.”
CHAPTER XI.
THAT evening, after dining alone, the Doctor went in to
Bathurst’s. The latter had already heard the news, and they
talked it over for some time. Then the Doctor said, “Have
you seen Forster, Bathurst, since he arrived 'I ”
“ N 0, I was out when he left his card ; I was at school with
him. I heard when I was in England that he was out here
in the native cavalry, but I have never run across him before,
and I own I had no wish to do so. He was about two years
older than I was, and was considered the cock of the school. .
He was one of my chief tormentors. I don’t know that he
was a bully generally—fellows who are really plucky seldom
are; but he disliked me heartily, and I hated him.
“I had the habit of telling the truth when questioned, and
he narrowly escaped expulsion owing to my refusing to tell
a lie about his being quietly in bed when in fact he and two
or three other fellows had been out at a public-house. He
never forgave me for it, for he himself would have told a lie
without hesitation to screen himself, or, to do him justice, to
screen any one else; and the mere fact that I myself had been
involved in the matter, having been sent out by one of the
bigger fellows, and, therefore, having got myself a. flogging
by my admission, was no mitigation in his eyes of my offence
of what he called sneaking.


x34 ‘ RU} UB, THE quoLER.
“So you may imagine I have no particular desire to meet
him again. Unless he has greatly changed, he would do me
a bad turn if he had the chance.”
“I don’t think he has greatly changed," the Doctor said.
“That was really what I came in here for this evening rather
than to talk about this Sepoy business. I am sorry to say,
Bathurst, that when he was in at the Major’s to-day, your
name happened to be mentioned, and he said at once, ‘Is
that the Bathurst who they say showed the white feather at
Chillianwalla and left the army in consequence?’ "
Bathurst’s face grew pale and his fingers closed. He re-
mained silent a minute, and then said, “It does not matter;
she would have been sure to hear it sooner or later, and I
should have told her myself if he had not done so; besides,
it, as I am afraid, this Berhampore business is the beginning
of trouble, and of such trouble as we have never had since we
set foot in India, it is likely that every one will know what
she knows now. Has she spoken to you about it? I suppose
she has, or you would not have known that he mentioned it.”
“Yes, she was most indignant about it, and did not be-
lieve it.” -
“And what did you say, Doctor?” he asked indifl'erently.
“Well, I was sorry I could not tell her exactly what you
told me. It would have been better if I could have done so.
I simply said there were many sorts of courage, and that I
was sure that you possessed many sorts in a very high degree,
but I could not, of course, deny, although I did not admit, the
truth of the report he had mentioned.”
“I don’t think it makes much difference one way or the
other,” Bathurst said wearily. “ I have known all along that
Isobel Hannay would not marry a coward, only I have gone
on living in a fool’s paradise. However, it is over now—the
sooner it is all over the better.”
“My dear fellow,” the Doctor said earnestly, “ don’t- take this
thing too much to heart. I don’t wish to try and persuade you
that it is not a grave misfortune, but even suppose this trouble
takes the very worst form possible, I do not think you will
come so very badly out of it as you anticipate. Even assuming
that you are unable to do your part in absolute fighting, there
may be other opportunities, and most likely will, in which you
may be able to show that although unable to control your nerves
in the din of battle, you possess in other respects coolness and
courage. That feat of yours of attacking the tiger with the


RU} UB, THE YUGGLER. 135
dog-whip shows conclusively that under many circumstances
' you are capable of most daring deeds.”
Bathurst sat looking down for some minutes. “ God grant
that it may be so,” he said at last; “ but it is no use talking
about it any more, Doctor. I suppose Major Hannay will
keep a sharp look-out over the men.”
“Yes; there was a. meeting of the officers this afternoon. It
was agreed to make no outward change, and to give the troops
no cause whatever to believe that they are suspected. They all
feel confident of the good-will of the men; at the same time
they will watch them closely, and if the news comes of further
trouble, they will prepare the court-house as a place of refuge.”
“That is a very good plan; but of course everything depends
upon whether, if the troops do rise in mutiny, the people of
Oude should join them. They are a fighting race, and if
they should throw in their lot against us the position would
be a desperate one." ‘
“ Well, there is no doubt," the Doctor said, “ that the Rajah
of Bithoor would be with us; that will make Cawnpore safe,
and will largely influence all the great Zemindars, though there
is no doubt that a good many of them have been sulky ever
since the disarmament order was issued. I believe there are few
of them who have not got cannon hidden away or buried, and
as for the people, the number of arms given up was as nothing
to what we know they possessed. In other parts of India
I believe the bulk of the people will be with us 3 but here in
Oude, our last annexation, I fear that they will side against us,
unless all the great landowners range themselves on our side.”
“As far as I can see,” Bathurst said, “the people are con-
tented with the change. I don’t say what I may call the pro-
fessional fighting class, the crowd of retainers kept by the great
landowners, who were constantly fighting against each other.
Annexation has put a stop to all that, and the towns are
crowded with these fighting men, who hate us bitterly ; but the
peasants, the tillers of the soil, have benefited greatly. They
are no longer exposed to raids by their powerful neighbours,
and can cultivate their fields in peace and quiet. Unfortunately
their friendship, such as it is, will not weigh in the slightest
degree in the event of a struggle. At any rate, I am sure they
are not behind the scenes, and know nothing whatever of any
coming trouble. Going as I do among them, and talking to
them as one of themselves, I should have noticed it had there
been any change in them; and of late naturally I have paid


x36 RUJUB, THE yUGGLER.
special notice to their manner. Well, if it is to come I hope
it will come soon, for anything is better than suspense.”
Two days later Major Hannay read out to the men on parade
an official document, assuring them that there was no truth
whatever in the statements that had been made that the car-
tridges served out to them had been greased with pigs’ fat.
They were precisely the same as those that they had used
for years, and the men were warned against listening to
seditious persons who might try to poison their minds and
shake their loyalty to the Government. He then told them
that he was sorry to say that at one or two stations the men
had been foolish enough to listen to disloyal counsels, and that
in consequence the regiments had been disbanded and the men
had forfeited all the advantages in the way of pay and pension
they had earned by many years of good conduct. He said that
he had no fear whatever of any such trouble arising with them,
as they knew that they had been well treated, that any legitimate
complaint they might make had always been attended to, and
that their officers had their welfare thoroughly at heart.
When he had finished, the senior native officer stepped for-
ward, and in the name of the detachment assured the Major
that the men were perfectly contented, and would in all cases
follow their officers, even if they ordered them to march against
their countrymen. At the conclusion of his speech, he called
upon the troops to give three cheers for the Major and officers,
and this was responded to with a show of great enthusiasm.
This demonstration was deemed very satisfactory, and the
uneasiness among the residents abated considerably, while
the Major and his officers felt convinced that whatever hap-
pened at other stations, there would at least be no trouble at
Deennugghur.
“Well, even you are satisfied, Doctor, I suppose," the Major
said, as a party of them who had been dining with Dr. Wade
were smoking in the verandah.
“I was hopeful before, Major, and I am hopeful now; but
I can’t say that to-day’s parade has influenced me in. the
slightest. Whatever virtues the Hindoo may have, he has
certainly that of knowing how to wait. I believe. from what
took place, that they have no intention of breaking out at
present ; whether they are waiting to see what is done at other
stations, or until they receive a signal, is more than I can say;
but their assurances do not weigh with me to the slightest
extent. Their history is full of cases of perfidious massacre.


RUj‘UB, THE jUGGLER. 137
I should say, ‘Trust them as long as you can, but don’t relax
your watch.’ ”
“ You are a confirmed croaker,” Captain Rintoul said.
“ I do not think so, Rintoul. I know the men I am talking
about, and I know the Hindoos generally. They are mere
children, and can be moulded like clay. As long as we had
the moulding, all went well; but if they fall into the hands of
designing men, they can be led in another direction just as
easily as we have led them in ours. I own that I don’t see
who can be sufficiently interested in the matter to conceive
and carry out a great conspiracy of this kind. The King of
Oude is a captive in our hands, the King of Delhi is too old
to play such a part. Scindia and Holkar may possibly long
for the powers their fathers possessed, but they are not likely
to act together, and may be regarded as rivals rather than
friends, and yet if it is not one of these who has been brewing
this storm, I own I don’t see who can be at the bottom of it,
unless it has really originated from some ambitious spirits
among the Sepoys, who look in the event of success to being
masters of the destinies of India. It is a pity we did not get
a. few more views from that juggle-r; we might have known
a. little more of it then.”
“ Don’t talk about him, Doctor,” Wilson said ; “it gives me
the cold shivers to think of that fellow and what he did; I
have hardly slept since then. It was the most creepy thing.
I ever saw. Richards and I have talked it over every evening
we have been alone together, and we can’t make head or tail
of the affair. Richards thinks it wasn’t the girl at all who
went up on that pole, but a sort of balloon in her shape. But
then, as I say, there was the girl standing among us before
she took her place on the pole. We saw her sit down and
settle herself on the cushion so that she was balanced right. So
it could not have been a balloon then, and if it were a balloon
afterwards, when did she change? At any rate the light below
was sufficient to see well until she was forty or fifty feet up,
and after that she shone out, and we never lost sight of her
until she was ever so high. I can understand the pictures,
because there might have been a magic-lantern somewhere,
but that girl trick, and the basket trick, and that great snake,
are altogether beyond me.”
“So I should imagine, Wilson,” the Doctor said drily ;
“and if I were you I would not bother my head about it
Nobody has succeeded in finding out any of them yet, and all


138 1207019, THE jUGGLER.
the wondering in the world is not likely to get you any nearer
to it."
“That is what I feel, Doctor, but it is very riling to see
things that you can’t account for anyhow. I wish he had sent
up Richards on the pole instead of the girl. I would not have
minded going up myself if he had asked me, though I expect
I should have jumped off before it got up very far, even at
the risk of breaking my neck.”
“ I should not mind risking that,” the Doctor said, “ though
I doubt whether I should have known any more about it when
I came down; but these jugglers always bring a girl or a boy
with them instead of calling somebody out from the audience,
as they do at home. Well, if things are, quiet, we will
organise another hunt, Wilson. I have heard of a tiger
fifteen miles away from where we killed our last, and you
and Richards shall go with me if you like.”
“I should like it of all things, Doctor, provided it comes off
by day. I don’t think I care about sitting through another
night on a tree, and then not getting anything like a fair shot
at the beast after all.”
“\Ve will go by day," the Doctor said. “Bathurst has
promised to get some elephants from one of the Zemindars;
we will have a regular party this time. I have half promised
Miss Hannay she shall have a seat in a howdah with me if the
Major will give her leave, and in that case we will send out
tents and make a regular party of it. What do you say, Major?”
“ I am perfectly willing, Doctor, and have certainly no
objection to trusting Isobel to your care. I know you are
not likely to miss.’ ’
“ No, I am not likely to miss, certainly ; and besides, there
will be \Vilson and Richards to give him the coup de grdce
if I don’t finish him.”
There was a general laugh, for the two subalterns had been
chafi'ed a good deal at both missing the tiger on the previous
occasion.
“ \Vell, when shall it be, Major?"
“Not just at present, at any rate,” the Major said. “ \Ve
must see how things are going on. I certainly should not
think of going outside the station new, nor could I give leave
to any officer to do so ; but if things settle down, and we hear
no more of this cartridge business for the next ten days or a
fortnight, we will see about it."
But although no news of any outbreak similar to that at


RU] UB, THE j'UGGLER. 139
Barrackpore was received for some days, the reports that came
showed a widespread restlessness. At various stations, all
over India, fires, believed to be the work of incendiaries, took
place, and there was little abatement of the uneasiness. It
became known, too, that a native ofiicer had before the rising
of Berhampore given warning of the mutiny, and had stated
that there was a widespread plot throughout the native regi-
ments to rise, kill their officers, and then march to Delhi,
where they were all to gather.
The story was generally disbelieved, although the actual
rising had shown that, to some extent, the report was well
founded; still men could not bring themselves to believe that the
troops among whom they had lived so long, and who had fought
so well for us, could meditate such gross treachery, without
having, as far as could be seen, any real cause for complaint.
The conduct of the troops at Deennugghur was excellent, and
the Colonel wrote that at Cawnpore there were no signs what-
ever of disaffection, and that the Rajah of Bithoor had offered
to come down at the head of his own troops should there be
any symptoms of mutiny among the Sepoys. Altogether things
looked better, and a feeling of confidence that there would be
no serious trouble' spread through the station.
The weather had set in very hot, and there was no stirring
out now for the ladies between eleven o’clock and five or six in
the afternoon. Isobel, however, generally went in for a chat,
the first thing after early breakfast, with Mrs. Doolan, whose
children were fractious with prickly heat.
“I only wish we had some big, high mountain, my dear,
somewhere within reach, where we could establish the children
through the summer and run away ourselves occasionally to
look after them. We are very badly off here in Code for that.
You are looking very pale yourself the last few days.”
“ I suppose I feel it a little,” Isobel said, “and of course
this anxiety every one has been feeling worries one. Every one
seems to agree that there is no fear of trouble with the Sepoys
here ; still, as nothing else is talked about, one cannot help feel-
ing nervous about it. However, as things seem settling down
now, I hope we shall soon get something else to talk about.”
“ I have not seen Mr. Bathurst lately,” Mrs. Doolan said
presently.
“Nor have we,” Isobel said quietly; “it is quite ten days
since we saw him last.” _
“I suppose he is falling back into his hermit ways,” Mrs.


14o RUjUB, THE j’UGGLER.
Doolan said carelessly, shooting a keen glance at Isobel, who
was leaning OVer one of the children.
“ He quite emerged from his shell for a bit. Mrs. Hunter
was saying she never saw such a change in a man, but I sup-
pose he has got tired of it. Captain Forster arrived just in
time to fill up the gap. How do you like him, Isobel 7”
“He is amusing,” the girl said quietly; “ I have never seen
any one quite like him before; he talks in an easy, pleasant
sort of way, and tells most amusing stories. Then, when he sits
down by one he has the knack of dropping his voice and talk-
ing in a confidential sort of way, even when it is only about
the weather. Iam always asking myself how much of it is
real, and what there is under the surface.”
Mrs. Doolan nodded approval.
“I don’t think there is much under the surface, dear, and
what there is is just as well left alone ; but there is no doubt he
can be delightful when he chooses, and very few women would
not feel flattered by the attentions of a man who is said to
be the handsomest ofiicer in the Indian army, and who has
besides distinguished himself several times as a particularly
dashing officer.” _
“ I don’t think handsomeness goes for much in a man,”
Isobel said shortly.
Mrs. Doolan laughed.
“ \Vhy should it not go for as much as prettiness in a woman 'i
It is no use being cynical, Isobel; it is part of our nature to
admire pretty things, and as far as I can see an exceptionally
handsome man is as legitimate an object of admiration as a
lovely woman.”
“Yes, to admire, Mrs. Doolan, but not to like."
“ “Tell, my dear, I don’t want to be hurrying you away, but
I think you had better get back before the sun gets any higher.
You may say you don’t feel the heat much, but you are looking
pale and fagged, and the less you are out in the sun the better.”
Isobel had indeed been having a hard time during those ten
days. At first she had thought of little but what she should do
when Bathurst called. It seemed impossible that she could be
exactly the same with him as she had been before, that was quite
out of the question, and yet how was she to be different?
Ten days had passed without his coming. This was so un-
usual that an idea came into her mind which terrified her, and
the first time when the Doctor came in and found her alone
she said, “ Of course, Dr. Wade,.you have not mentioned to


R0703, THE 7UGGLER. 141
Mr. Bathurst the conversation we had, but it is curious his
not having been here since.”
“ Certainly I mentioned it,” the Doctor said calmly; “how
could I do otherwise? It was evident to me that he would
not be welcomed here as he was before, and I could not do
otherwise than warn him of the change he might expect to
find, and to give him the reason for it.”
Isobel stood the picture of dismay. “I don’t think you had
any right'to do so, Doctor,” she said. “You have placed me
in a most painful position."
“In not so painful a. one as it would have been, my dear,
if he had noticed the change himself, as he must have done,
and asked for the cause of it.”
Isobel stood twisting her fingers over each other before
her nervously.
“ But what am I to do ’1” she asked.
“ I do not see that there is anything more for you to do,” the
Doctor said. “ Mr. Bathurst may not be perfect in all respects,
but he is certainly too much of a gentleman to force his visits
where they are not wanted. I do not say he will not come here
at all, for not to do so after being here so much would create
comment and talk in the station, which would be as painful to
you as to him, but he certainly will not come here more often
than is necessary to keep up appearances.”
“I don’t think you ought to have told him,” Isobel repeated,
much distressed.
“ I could not help it, my dear. You would force me to admit
there was some truth in the story Captain Forster told you,
and I- was therefore obliged to acquaint him with the fact or
he would have had just cause to reproach me. Besides, you
spoke of despising a man who was not physically brave.”
“You never told him that, Doctor; surely you never told
him that 'l ”
“I only told what it was necessary he should know, my dear,
namely, that you had heard the story, that you had questioned
me, and that I, knowing the facts from his lips, admitted that
there was some foundation for the story, while asserting that
I was convinced that he was morally a brave man. He did not
ask how you took the news, nor did I volunteer any information
whatever on the subject, but he understood, I think, perfectly
the light in which you would view a coward.”
“But what am I to do when we meet, Doctor 1 ” she asked
piteously.


142 RUj'UB, THE YUGGLER.
“ I should say that you will meet just as ordinary acquaint-
ances do meet, Miss Hannay. People are civil to others they
are thrown with however much they may distrust them at heart.
You may be sure that Mr. Bathurst will make no allusion what-
ever to the matter. I think I can answer for it that you will
see no shade of difference in his manner. This has always been
a heavy burden for him, as even the most careless observer may
see in his manner. I do not say that this is not a large addition
to it, but I dare say he will pull through; and now I must be off.”
“You are very unkind, Doctor, and I never knew you un-
kind before.”
“Unkind l” the Doctor repeated, with an air of surprise.
“In what way? I love this young fellow. I had cherished
hopes for him that he hardly perhaps ventured to cherish for
himself. I quite agree with you that what has passed has
annihilated those hopes. You despise a man who is a coward. I
am not surprised at- that. Bathurst is the last man in the world
who would force himself ‘upon a woman who despised him. I
have done my best to save you from being obliged to make a per-
sonal declaration of your sentiments. I repudiate altogether
the accusation as being unkind. I don’t blame you in the
slightest. I think that your view is the one that a young woman
of spirit would naturally take. I acquiesce in it entirely. I will
go farther, I consider it a most fortunate occurrence for you
both that you found it out in time.” t '
Isobel’s cheeks had flushed and paled several times while he
was speaking; then she pressed her lips tightly together, and
as he finished, she said, “I think, Doctor, it will be just as
well not to discuss the matter further.” _
“ I am quite of your opinion,” he said. “ We will agree not
to allude to it again. Good-bye.”
And then Isobel had retired to her room and cried passion-
ately, while the Doctor had gone off chuckling to himself as if
he were perfectly satisfied with the state of aflairs.
During the week that had since elapsed, the Major had
wondered and grumbled several times at Bathurst’s absence.
“I expect,” he said one day, when a note of refusal had come
from him, “that he doesn’t care about meeting Forster. You
remember Forster said they had been at school together, and
from the tone in which he spoke, it is evident that they disliked
each other there. No doubt he has heard from the Doctor that
Forster is frequently in here,” and the Major spoke rather irri-
tably, for it seemed to him that Isobel showed more pleasure


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 143
in the Captain’s society than she should have done after what
he had said to her about him ; indeed, Isobel, especially when
the Doctor was present, appeared by no means to object to
Captain Forster’s attentions.
Upon the evening, however, of the day when Isobel had spoken
to Mrs. Doolan, Bathurst came in, rather late in the evening.
“ How are you, Bathursti ” the Majorsaid cordially. “Why,
you have become quite a stranger. We haven't seen you for
over a fortnight. Do you know Captain Forster?”
“We were at school together formerly, I believe,” Bathurst
said quietly. “We have not met since, and I fancy we are both
changed beyond recognition."
Captain Forster looked with surprise at the strong, well-knit
figure. He had not before seen Bathurst, and had pictured him
to himself as a weak, puny man.
“I certainly should not have known Mr. Bathurst," he said
“ I have changed a great deal, no doubt, but he has certainly
changed more.”
There was no attempt on the part of either to shake hands.
As they moved apart, Isobel came into the room.
A quick flash of colour spread over her face when, upon
entering, she saw Bathurst talking to her uncle. Then she
advanced, shook hands with him as usual, and said, “It is
quite a time since you were here, Mr. Bathurst. If every one
was as full of business as you are, we should get on badly. ”
Then she moved on without waiting for a reply and sat down,
and was soon engaged in a lively conversation with Captain
Forster, whilst Bathurst a few minutes later, pleading that as
he had been in the saddle all day, he must go and make up for
lost time, took his leave.
Captain Forster had noticed the flush on Isobel’s cheeks
when she saw Bathurst, and had drawn his own conclusions.
“ There has been a flirtation between them,” he said to
himself ; “but I fancy I have put :1 spoke in his wheel. She
gave him the cold shoulder unmistakably.”
April passed, and as matters seemed to be quieting down,
there being no fresh trouble at any of the stations, the Major
told Dr. \Vade that he really saw no reason why the projected
ti ger-hunt should not take place. The Doctor at once took the
matter in hand, and drove out the next morning to the village
from which he had received news about the tiger, had a long
talk with the shikaris of the place, took a general view of the
country, settled the line in which the beat should take place,


144 RU} UB, THE YUGGLER.
and arranged for a large body of heaters to be on the spot at
the time agreed on.
Bathurst undertook to obtain the elephants from two
Zemindars in the neighbourhood, who promised to furnish six,
all of which were more or less accustomed to the sport; while
the Major and Mr. Hunter, who had been a keen sportsman,
although he had of late given up the pursuit of large game,
arranged for a number of bullock-carts for the transport of
tents and stores.
Bathurst himself declined to be one of the party, which was
to consist of Mr. Hunter and his eldest daughter, the Major
and Isobel, the Doctor, the two subalterns, and Captain Forster.
Captain Doolan said frankly that he was no shot, and more
likely to hit one of the party than the tiger. Captain Rintoul
at first accepted, but his wife shed such floods of tears at the
idea of his leaving her and going into danger, that for the sake
of peace he agreed to remain at home.
Wilson and Richards were greatly excited over the prospect,
and talked of nothing else ; they were burning to wipe out the
disgrace of having missed on the previous occasion. Each of
them interviewed the Doctor privately, and implored him to
put them in a position where they were likely to have the first
shot. Both used the same arguments, namely, that the Doctor
had killed so many tigers that one more or less could make
no difference to him, and if they missed, which they modestly
admitted was possible, he could still bring the animal down.
As the Doctor was always in a good temper when there was
a prospect of sport, he promised each of them to do all that he
could for them, at the same time pointing out that it was always
quite a lottery which way the tiger might break out.
Isobel was less excited than she would have thought possible
over the prospect of taking part in a tiger-hunt. She had
many consultations to hold with Mrs. Hunter, the Doctor, and
Rumzan as to the food to be taken, and the things that would
be absolutely necessary for camping out ; for, as it was possible
that the first day’s beat would be unsuccessful, they were to be
prepared for at least two days’ absence from home. Two tents
were to be taken, one for the gentlemen, the other for Isobel and
Mary Hunter. These, with bedding and camp furniture, cook~
ing utensils and provisions, were to be sent ofl’ at daybreak, while
the party were to start as soon as the heat of the day was over.
“ I wish Bathurst had been coming,” Major Hannay said, as,
with Isobel by his side, he dreve out of the cantonment. “ He


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 14;
seems to have slipped away from us altogether ,- he has only been
in once for the last three or four weeks. You haven’t had a tiff
with him about anything, have you, Isobel? It seems strange
his ceasing so suddenly to cbme after our seeing so much of him.”
“ No, uncle, I have not seen him except when you have.
\Vhat put such an idea into your mind 7 "
“ I don’t know, my dear; young people do have tiffs some—
times about all sorts of trifies, though I should not have thought
that Bathurst was the sort of man to do anything of that sort.
I don’t think that he likes Forster, and does not care to meet
him. I fancy that is at the bottom of it.”
“Verylikely,” Isobel said innocently, and changed the subject.
It was dark when they reached the appointed spot, and indeed
from the point where they left the road a native with a torch
had run ahead to show them the way. The tents looked bright;
two or three large fires were burning round them, and the
lamps had already been lighted within.
“These tents do look cosy,” Mary Hunter said, as she and
Isobel entered the one prepared for them. “I do wish one
always lived under canvas during the hot weather.”
“They look cool,” Isobel said, “ but I don’t suppose they are
really as cool as the bungalows 5 but they do make them com-
fortable. Here is the bath-room all ready, and I am sure we
want it after that dusty drive. Will you have one first, or
shall I'! We must make haste, for Rumzan said dinner would
be ready in half an hour. Fortunately, we shan’t be expected
to do much in the way of dressing.”
The dinner was a cheerful meal, and every one was in high
spirits.
The tiger had killed a cow the day before, and the villagers
were certain that he had retired to a deep nullah round which
a careful watch had been kept all day. Probably he would
steal out by night to make a meal from the carcase of the cow,
but it had been arranged that he was to do this undisturbed,
and that the hunt was to take place by daylight.
“ It is wonderful how the servants manage everything,”
Isobel said. “The table is just as well arranged as it is at
home. People would hardly believe in England, if they could
see us sitting here, that we were only out on a. two days’ picnic.
They would be quite content there to rough it and take their
meals sitting on the ground, or anyway they could get them.
It really seems ridiculous having everything like this.”
“There is nothing like making yourself comfortable,” the
K


146 ' RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
Doctor said ; “and as the servants have an easy time of it
generally, it does them good to bestir themselves now and
then. The expense of one or two extra bullock carts is nothing,
and it makes all the difference in comfort."
" How far is the nullah from here, Doctor'i " Wilson, who
could think of nothing else but the tiger, asked.
“ About two miles. It is just as well not to go any nearer.
Not that he would be likely to pay us a visit, but he might take
the alarm, and shift his quarters. N o, no more wine, Major ; we
shall want our blood cool in the morning. Now we will go out
to look at the elephants and have a talk with the mahouts, and
find out which of the animals canbe most trusted to stand steady.
It is astonishing what a dread most elephants have of tigers. I
was on one once that I was assured would face anything, and
the brute bolted and went through some trees, and I was swept
off the pad and was half an hour before I opened my eyes. It
was a mercy I had not every rib broken. Fortunately I was a
light weight, or I might have been killed. And I have seen
the same sort of thing happen a dozen times, so we must choose
a couple of steady ones, anyhow, for the ladies.” ,
For the next hour they strolled about outside. The Doctor
cross-questioned the mahouts and told oil’ the elephants for
the party; then there was a talk with the native shikaris,
and arrangements made for the beat, and at an early hour all
retired to rest. The morning was just breaking when they were
called. Twenty minutes later they assembled to take a cup of
coffee before starting. The elephants were arranged in front
of the tents, and they were just about to mount when a horse
was heard coming at a gallop. '
“\Vait a moment,” the Major said; “it may be a message
of some sort from the station." A minute later Bathurst rode
in and reined up his horse in front of the tent.
“ Why, Bathurst, what brings you here? Changed your
mind at the last moment, and found you could get away 1
That’s right; you shall come on the pad with me.”
“No, I have not come for that, Major; I have brought a
despatch that arrived at two o’clock this morning. Doolan
opened it and came to me, and asked me to bring it on to you,
as I knew the way and where your camp was to be pitched.”
“Nothing serious, I hope, Bathurst,” the Major said, struck
with the gravity with which Bathurst spoke. “ It must be
something important, or Doolan would never have routed you
off like that.”


I48 RUjUB, THE j‘UGGLER.
The men were standing in a group, wondering what the
news could be which was deemed of such importance that
Bathurst should carry it out in the middle of the night.
“The Major will be glad if you will all go in, gentlemen,”
Bathurst said, as he joined them.
“Are we to go in, Mr. Bathurst?” Miss Hunter asked.
“ No, I think not, Miss Hunter ; the fact is there have
been some troubles at two or three other places, and the Major
is going to hold a sort of council of war as to whether the hunt
had not better be given up. I rather fancy that they will de-
cide to go back at once. News flies very fast in India. I think
the Major would like that he and his oilicers should be back
before it is whispered among the Sepoys that the discontent
has not, as we hoped, everywhere ceased.”
“ It must be very serious,” Isobel said, “ 0r uncle would never
decide to go back, when all the preparations are made.”
“It would never do, you see, Miss Hannay, for the Com-
mandant and four of the officers to be awa , if the Sepoys
should take it into their heads to refuse to receive cartridges
or anything of that sort."
“You can’t give us any particulars then, Mr. Bathurst 'l ”
“The 'note was a very short one, and was partly made up
of unconfirmed rumours. As I only saw it in my capacity of a
messenger, I don’t think I am at liberty to say more than that.”
“ What a trouble the Sepoys are,” Mary Hunter said pet-
tishly; “it is too bad our losing a tiger~hunt when we may
never have another chance to see one.”
“ That is a very minor trouble, Mary.”
“ I don’t think so,” the girl said ; “just at present it seems
to me to be very serious.”
At this moment the Doctor put his head out of the tent.
“Will you come in, Bathurst?"
“We have settled, Bathurst," the Major said, when he
entered, “ that we must of course go back at once. The Doctor,
however, is of opinion that if, after all the preparations were
made, we were to put the tiger-hunt off altogether, it would
set the natives talking, and the report would go through the
country like wild-fire that some great disaster had happened.
We must go back at once, and Mr. Hunter, having a wife and
daughter there, is anxious to get back too; but the Doctor
urges that he should go out and kill this tiger. As it is known
that you have just arrived, he says that if you are willing to
go with him, it will be thought that you had come here to join


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 149
the hunt, and if that comes off, and the tiger is killed, it does
not matter whether two or sixty of us went out.”
“ I shall be quite willing to do so,” said Bathurst, “and I
really think that the Doctor's advice is good. If, now that
you have all arrived upon the ground, the preparations were
cancelled, there can be no doubt that the natives would
come to the conclusion that something very serious had taken
place. and it would be all over the place in no time.”
“Thank you, Bathurst. Then we will consider that arranged.
Now we will get the horses in as soon as possible, and be off
at once.”
Ten minutes later the buggies were brought round, and the
whole party, with the exception of the Doctor and Bathurst,
started for Decnnugghur.
CHAPTER XII.
“ LET us be OK at once,” Dr. \Vade said to his companion ; “ we
can talk as we go along. I have got two rifles with me ; I can
lend you one.”
“ I shall take no rifle,” Bathurst said decidedly, “or rather
I will take one of the shikari’s guns for the sake of appearance,
and for use I will borrow one of their spears.”
“ Very well ; I will do the shooting then,” the Doctor agreed.
The two men then took their places on the elephants most
used to the work, and told the mahouts of the others to follow
in case the elephants should be required for driving the tiger
out of the thick jungle, and they then started side by side for
the scene of action.
“This is awful news, Bathurst. I could not have believed it
possible that these fellows who have eaten our salt for years,
fought our battles, and have seemed the most docile and obedient
of soldiers, should have done this. That they should have been
goaded into mutiny by lies about their religion being in danger
I could have imagined well enough, but that they should go in
for wholesale massacre, not only of their oflicers, but of women
and children, seems well-nigh incredible. You and I have always
agreed that if they were once roused there was no saying what
they would do, but I don’t think either of us dreamt of any-
thing as bad as this.”
“I don’t know,” Bathurst said quietly; “one has watched
this cloud gathering, and felt that if it did break it would be


150 12113019, THE jUGGLER.
something terrible. No one can foresee now what it will be.
The news that Delhi is in the hands of the mutineers, and that
these have massacred all Europeans, and so placed themselves
beyond all hope of pardon, will fly through India like a flash of
lightning, and there is no guessing how far the matter will
spread. There is no use disguising it from ourselves, Doctor,
before a week is over there may not be a white man left alive
in India, save the garrisons of strong places like Agra, and
perhaps the presidential towns, where there is always a strong
European force.”
“1 can’t deny that it is possible, Bathurst. If this revolt
spreads through the three Presidencies the work of conquering
India will have to be begun again, and worse than that, for we
should have opposed to us a vast army drilled and armed by
ourselves,-and led by the native ofiicers we have trained. It
seems stupefying that an empire won piecemeal, and after as
hard fighting as the world has ever seen, should be lost in
a week.”
The Doctor spoke as if the question was a purely impersonal
one.
“Ugly, isn’t it 'I ” he went on; “and to think I have been
doctoring up these fellows for the last thirty years—saving
their lives, sir, by wholesale. If I had known what had been
coming I would have dosed them with arsenic, with as little re-
morse as I should feel in shooting a. tiger’s whelp. Well, there
is one satisfaction, the Major has already done something to-
wards turning the court-house into a fortress, and I fancy a
good many of the scoundrels will go down before they take it,
that is, if they don’t fall on us unawares. I have been a non-
combatant all my life, but if I can shoot a tiger on the spring
I fancy I can hit a Sepoy. By Jove, Bathurst, that juggler’s
picture you told me of is likely to come true after all.”
“I wish to Heaven it was,” Bathurst said gloomily; “I
could look without dread at whatever is coming as far as I am
concerned, if I could believe it possible that I should be fighting
as I saw myself there.”
“ Pooh, nonsense, lad l” the Doctor said. “Knowing what
I know of you, I have no doubt that, though you may feel
nervous at first, you will get over it in time.”
Bathurst shook his head. “ I know myself too well, Doctor,
to indulge in any such hopes. Now you see we are going out
tiger-hunting. At present, now, as far as I am concerned, I
should feel much less nervous if I knew I was going to enter


R0703, THE j’UGGLER. 1;:
the jungle on foot with only this spear, than I do at the thought
that you are going to fire that rifle a few paces from me.”
“ You will scarcely notice it in the excitement,” the Doctor
said. “ In cold blood I admit you might feel it, but I don’t
think you will when you see the tiger spring out from the
jungle at us. But here we are. That is the nullah in which
they say the tiger retires at night. I expect the heaters are
lying all round in readiness, and as soon as we have taken up
our station at its mouth they will begin.”
A shikari came up as they approached the spot.
“ The tiger went out last night, Sahib, and finished the cow;
he came back before daylight, and the heaters are all in readi-
ness to begin.”
The elephants were soon in position at the mouth of the
ravine, which was some thirty yards across. At about the
same distance in front of them the jungle of high, coarse grass
and thick bush began.
“ If you were going to shoot, Bathurst, we would take post one
each side, but as you are not going to I will place myself nearly
in the centre, and if you are between me and the rocks, the
tiger is pretty certain to go on the other side, as it will seem the
most open to him. Now we are ready,” he said to the shikari.
The latter waved a white mg on the top of a long stick, and
at the signal a tremendous hubbub of gongs and tom-toms,
mingled with the shouts of numbers of the men, arose. The
Doctor looked across at his companion. His face was white
and set, his muscles twitched convulsively ; he was looking
straight in front of him, his teeth set hard.
“ An interesting case,” the Doctor muttered to himself, “if
it had been any one else than Bathurst. I expect the tiger will
be some little time before it is down. Bathurst,” he said, in
a quiet voice. Three times he repeated the observation, each
time raising his voice higher, before Bathurst heard him.
“The sooner it comes the better,” Bathurst said, between
his teeth. “I would rather face a. hundred tigers than this
infernal din.”
A quarter of an hour passed, and the Doctor, rifle in hand,
was watching the bushes in front, when he saw a slight move-
ment among the leaves on his right, the side on which Bathurst
was stationed.
“ That’s him, Bathurst ; he has headed back ; he caught sight
of either your elephant or mine ; he will make a bolt in another
minute now unless he turns back on the heaters."


152 R07 UB, THE jUGGLER.
A minute later there was a gleam of tawny yellow among
the long grass, and quick as thought the Doctor fired. \Vith
a sharp snarl the tiger leapt out, and with two short bounds
sprang on to the head of the elephant ridden by Bathurst.
The mahout gave a cry of pain, for the talons of one of the
forepaws were fixed in his leg. Bathurst leaned forward and
thrust the spear he held deep into the animal’s neck. At the
same moment the Doctor fired again, and the tiger, shot through
the head, fell dead, while, with a start, Bathurst lost his balance
and fell over the elephant’s head on to the body of the tiger.
It was fortunate indeed for him that the ball had passed
through the tiger’s skull from ear to ear, and that life was
extinct before it touched the ground. Bathurst sprang to his
feet. shaken and bewildered, but otherwise unhurt. .
“ He is as dead as a door nail,” the Doctor shouted, “and
lucky for you he was so ; if he had had a kick left in him you
would have been badly torn.”
“ I should never have fallen off,” Bathurst said angrily, “ if
you had not fired. I could have finished him with the spear.”
“You might or you might not; I could not wait to think
about that; the tiger had struck its claws into the mahout’s
leg, and would have had him off the elephant in another
moment. That is a first-rate animal you were riding on, or
he would have turned and bolted 3 if he had done so you and
the mahout would have both been off to a certainty.”
By this time the shouts of some natives, who had taken
their posts in trees near at hand, told the heaters that the
shots they had heard had been successful, and with shouts of
satisfaction they came rushing down. The Doctor at once
despatched one of them to bring up his trap and Bathurst’s
horse, and then examined the tiger.
It was a very large one, and the skin was in good condition,
which showed that he had not taken to man-eating long. The
Doctor bound up the wound on the mahout’s leg, and then
superintended the skinning of the animal while waiting for
the arrival of the trap.
When it came up he said, “You might as well take a seat by
my side, Bathurst ; the syce will sit behind and lead your horse."
Having distributed money among the heaters, the Doctor
took his place in his trap, the tiger skin was rolled up and
placed under the seat, Bathurst mounted beside him, and they
started. '
“There, you see, Doctor,” Bathurst, who had not opened his


RUleB, THE YUGGLER. 153
lips from the time he had remonstrated with the Doctor for
firing, said; “you see it is of no use. I was not afraid of the
tiger, for I knew that you were not likely to miss, and that
in any case it could not reach me on the elephant. I can
declare that I had not a shadow of fear of the beast, and yet,
directly that row began, my nerves gave way altogether. It was
hideous, and yet, the moment the tiger charged, I felt perfectly
cool again, for the row ceased as you fired your first shot. I
struck it full in the chest, and was about to thrust the spear
right down, and should, I believe, have killed it, if you had not
fired again and startled me so that I fell from the elephant.”
“I saw that the shouting and noise unnerved you, Bathurst,
but I saw too that you were perfectly cool and steady when
you planted your spear into him. If-it had not got hold of
the mahout’s leg, I should not have fired.”
“Is there nothing to be done, Doctor? You know now what
it is likely we shall have to face with the Sepoys and what it will
be with me if they rise. Is there nothing you can do for me i ”
The Doctor shook his head. “I don’t believe in Dutch
courage in any case, Bathurst ; certainly not in yours. There
is no saying what the effect of spirits might be. I should
not recommend them, lad. Of course, I can understand your
feelings, but I still believe that, even if you do badly to begin
with, you will pull round in the end. I have no doubt you
will get a chance to show that it is only nerve and not courage
in which you are deficient.”
Bathurst was silent, and scarce another word was spoken
during the drive back to Deennugghur.
The place had its accustomed appearance when they drove up.
The Doctor, as he drew up before his bungalow, said, “Thank
God, they have not begun yet. I was half afraid we might
have found they had taken advantage of most of us being away,
and have broken out before we got back."
“ S0 was I,” Bathurst said. “I have been thinking of
nothing else since we started.”
“ \Vell, I will go to the Major at once and see what arrange-
ments have been made, and whether there is any further news. ”
“I shall go off on my rounds,” Bathurst said. “ I had ar-
ranged yesterday to be at Nilpore this morning, and there will
be time for me to get there now. It is only eleven o’clock yet.
I shall go about my work as usual until matters come to a head.”
The Doctor found that the Major was over at the tent which
served as the orderly oflice, and at once followed him there.


154 RUj'UB, THE yucoLER.
“Nothing fresh, Major? ”
“No; we found everything going on as usual. It has been
decided to put the court-house as far as we can in a state of
defence. I shall have the spare ammunition quietly taken
over there, with stores of provisions. The ladies have under-
taken to sew up sacking and make gunny bags for holding
earth, and of course we shall get a store of water there. Every-
thing will be done quietly at present, and things will be sent
in there after dark by such servants as we can thoroughly
rely upon. At the first signs of trouble the residents will
make straight for that point. Of course we must be guided
by circumstances. If the trouble begins in the daytime—that
is, if it does begin, for the native ofiicers assure us that we
can trust implicitly in the loyalty of the men—there will pro-
bably be time for every one to gain the court-house; if it is at
night, and without warning, as it was at Meerut, I can only
say, Doctor, may God help us all, for I fear that few, if any,
of us would get there alive. Certainly not enough to make
any eflieient defence.”
“I do not see that there is anything else to do, Major. I
trust with you that the men will prove faithful; if not, it is a
black look-out whichever way we take it.”
“ Did you kill the tiger, Doctor?”
“Yes ; at least Bathurst and I did it between us. I wounded
him first. It then sprang upon Bathurst’s elephant, and he
speared it, and I finished it with a shot through the head.”
"Speared it!” the Major repeated; “why didn’t he shoot
it. \Vhat was he doing with his spear'l ”
“He was born, Major, with a constitutional horror of fire-
arms, inherited from his mother. I will tell you about it
some day. In fact, he cannot stand noise of any sort. It has
been a source of great trouble to the young fellow, who in all
other respects has more than a fair share of courage. However,
we will talk about that when we have more time on our hands.
There is no special duty you can give me at present 'I ”
“Yes, there is. You are in some respects the most disengaged
man in the station, and can come and go without attracting
any attention. I propose, therefore, that you shall take charge
of the arrangement of matters in the court-house. I think that
it will be an advantage if you move from your tent in there at
once. There is plenty of room for us all. No one can say at
what time there may be trouble with the Sepoys, and it would
be a great advantage to have some one in the court-house who


RUjUB, THE j’UGGLER. 155
could take the lead if the women, with the servants and so
on, come flocking in while we were still absent on the parade
ground. Besides, with your rifle, you could drive any small
party 011' who attempted to seize it by surprise. If you were
there we would call it the hospital, which would be an excuse
for sending in stores, bedding, and so on.
“You might mention in the orderly-room that it is getting
so hot now, that you think it would be as well to have a room
or two fitted up under a roof, instead of having the sick in
tents, in case there should be an outbreak of cholera or any-
thing of that sort this year. I will say that I think the idea
is a very good one, and that as the court-house is very little
used, you had better establish yourself there. The native
officers who hear what we say will spread the news. I don’t say
it will be believed, but at least it will serve as an explanation.”
“Yes, I think that that will be a very good plan, Major.
Two of the men who act as hospital orderlies I can certainly
depend upon, and they will help to receive the things sent in
from the bungalows, and will hold their tongues as to what
is being done; I 'shall leave my tent standing, and use it
occasionally as before, but will make the court-house my head-
quarters. How are we off for arms? ”
“There are five cases of muskets and a considerable stock of
ammunition in that small magazine in the lines; one of the
first things will be to get them removed to the court-house.
\Ve have already arranged to do that to—night ; it will give us
four or» five muskets apiece.”
“Good, Major; I will load them all myself and keep them
locked up in a room upstairs facing the gateway, and should
there be any trouble I fancy I could give a good account of any
small body of men who might attempt to make an entrance.
I am very well content with my position as Commandant of the
Hospital, as we may call it; the house has not been much good
to us hitherto, but I suppose when it was bought it was intended
to make this a more important station ; it is fortunate they did
buy it now, for we can certainly turn it into a. small fortress.
Still, of course, cannot disguise from myself that though we
might get on successfully for a time against your Sepoys, there
is no hope of holding it long if the whole country rises.”
“ I quite see that, Doctor," the Major said gravely; “but I
have really no fear of that. With the assistance of the Rajah
of Bithoor, Cawnpore is safe. His example is almost certain
to be followed by almost all the other great landowners. No 5


156 RUj‘UB, THE fUGGLER.
it is quite bad enough that we have to face a Sepoy mutiny;
I cannot believe that we are likely to have a general rising on
our hands. If we do ” and he stopped.
“If we do it is all up with us, Major; there is no disguising
that. However, we need not look at the worst side of things.
“Tell, I will go with you to the orderly-room, and will talk
with you about the hospital scheme, mention that there is a
rumour of cholera, and so on, and ask if I can’t have a part of
the court-house; then we can walk across there together, and
see what arrangement had best be made.”
The following day brought another despatch from the
Colonel, saying that the rumours as to Delhi were confirmed.
The regiments there had joined the Meerut mutineers, had
shot down their officers, and murdered every European they
could lay hands on ; that three officers and six non-commis-
sioned ollicers, who were in charge of the arsenal, had de-
fended it desperately, and had finally blown up the magazine
with hundreds of its assailants. Three of the defenders had
reached Meerut with the news.
Day by day the gloom thickened. The native regiments in
the Punjaub rose as soon as the news from Meerut and Delhi
reached them, but there were white troops there, and they
were used energetically and promptly. In some places the
mutineers were disarmed before they broke out into open
violence; in other cases mutinous regiments were promptly
attacked and scattered. Several of the leading chiefs had
hastened to assure the Government of their fidelity, and had
placed their troops and resources at its disposal.
But in the Punjaub alone the look-out appeared favourable.
In the Daob, a mutiny had taken place at four of the stations,
and the Sepoys had marched away to Delhi, but without in-
juring the Europeans.
After this for a week there was quiet, and then at places
widely apart—at Hansid and Hissar, to the north-west of Delhi ;
at Nusserabad, in the centre of Rajpootana, at Bareilly and
other stations in Rohilcund, the Sepoys rose, and in most places
massacre was added to mutiny. Then three regiments of the
Gwalior contingent at Neemuch revolted. Then two regiments
broke out at Jhansi, and the whole of the Europeans, after
desperately defending themselves for four days, surrendered
on promise of their lives, but were instantly murdered.
But before the news of the J hansi massacre reached Deen-
nugghur, they heard of other risings nearer to them. On the


RU] UB, THE j‘UGGLER. 157
30th of May the three native regiments at Lucknow rose, but
were sharply repulsed by the 300 European troops under Sir
Henry Lawrence. At Seetapoor the Sepoys rose on the 3rd of
June, and massacred all the Europeans. On the 4th the Sepoys
at Mohundee imitated the example of those at Seetapoor; while
on the 8th two regiments rose at Fyzabad, in the south-eastern
division of the province, and massacred all the Europeans.
Up to this time the news from Cawnpore had still been
good. The Rajah of Bithoor had offered Sir Hugh Wheeler a
reinforcement of two guns and 300 men, and it was believed
that, seeing this powerful and influential chief had thrown his
weight into the scale on the side of the British, the four regi-
ments of native troops would remain quiet.
Sir Hugh had but a handful of Europeans with him, but had
just received a reinforcement of fifty men of the 32nd regiment
from Lucknow, and he had formed an entrenchment within
which the Europeans of the station, and the fugitives who had
come in from the districts around, could take refuge.
Several communications passed between Sir Hugh Wheeler
and Major Hannay. The latter had been offered the choice of
moving into Cawnpore with his wing of the regiment, or re-
maining at Deennugghur. He had chosen the latter alterna-
tive, pointing out that he still believed in the fidelity of the
troops with him; but that if they went to Oawnpore they
would doubtless be carried away with the other regiments,
and would only swell the force of mutineers there. He was
assured, at any rate, they would not rise unless their comrades
at Cawnpore did so, but that it was best to manifest confidence
in them, as not improbahly, did they hear that they were
ordered hack to Cawnpore, they might take it as a slur on
their fidelity, and mutiny at once.
The month had been one of intense anxiety. Gradually stores
of provisions had been conveyed into the hospital, as it was
now called; the well inside the yard had been put into work-
ing order, and the residents had sent in stores of bedding and
such portable valuables as could he removed.
In but few cases had the outbreaks taken place at night,
the mutineers almost always breaking out either upon being
ordered to parade or upon actually falling in; still, it was by
no means certain when a crisis might come, and the Europeans
all lay down to rest in their clothes, one person in each house
remaining up all night on watch, so that at the first alarm all
might hurry to the shelter of the hospital.


158 RUyUB, THE yUGGLER.
Its position was a strong one—a lofty wall enclosing a court-
yard and garden surrounding it. This completely sheltered
the lower floor from fire; the windows of the upper floor were
above the level of the wall, and commanded a view over the
country, while round the flat-terraced roof ran a parapet some
two feet high.
During the day the ladies of the station generally gathered
at Mr. Hunter's, which was the bungalow nearest to the hos-
pital. Here they worked at the bags intended to hold earth,
and kept up each other’s spirits as well as they could. Although
all looked pale and worn from anxiety and watching, there were,
after the first few days, no manifestations of fear. Occasionally
a tear would drop over their work, especially in the case of two
of the wives of civilians, whose children were in England ; but
as a whole their conversation was cheerful, each trying her best
to keep up the spirits of the others. Generally, as soon as the
meeting was complete, Mrs. Hunter read aloud one of the
psalms suited to their position and the prayers for those in
danger, then the work was got out and the needles applied
briskly. Even Mrs. Rintoul showed a fortitude and courage
that would not have been expected from her.
“ One never knows people,” Mrs. Doolan said to Isobel, as
they walked back from one of these meetings ; “as long as one
only sees them under ordinary circumstances. I have never
had any patience with Mrs. Rintoul, with her constant com-
plaining and imaginary ailments. Now that there is really
something to complain about, she is positively one of the calmest
and most cheerful among us. It is curious, is it not, how our
talk always turns upon home 1 India is hardly ever mentioned.
\Ve might be a party of intimate friends, sitting in some quiet
country place, talking of our girlhood. \Vhy, we have learnt
more of each other and each other’s history in the last fort-
night than we should have done if we had lived here together
for twenty years under ordinary circumstances. Except as to
your little brother, I think you are the only one, Isobel, who
has not talked much of home.”
“I suppose it is because my home was not a very happy
one,” Isobel said.
“ I notice that all the talk is about happy scenes, nothing
is ever said about disagreeables. I suppose, my dear, it is
just as I have heard, that starving people talk about the feast
they have eaten, so we talk of the pleasant times we have had.
It is the contrast that makes them dearer. -It is funny, too,


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 159
it anything can be funny in these days, how different we are
in the evening, when we have the men with us, to what
we are when we are together alone in the day. Another
curious thing is that our trouble seems to make us more like
each other. Of course we are not more like, but we all some-
how take the same tone, and seem to have given up our own
particular ways and fancies.
“ Now the men don’t seem like that. Mr. Hunter, for
example, whom I used to think an even-tempered and easy
going sort of man, has become fidgety and querulous. The
Major is even more genial and kind than usual. The Doctor
snaps and snarls at every one and everything. Any one listen-
in g to my husband would say that he was in the wildest spirits.
Rintoul is quieter than usual, and the two lads have grown
older and nicer; I don’t say they are less full of fun than they
were, especially Wilson, but they are less boyish in their fun,
and they are nice with every one, instead of devoting them-
selves to two or three of us, you principally. Perhaps Richards
is the most changed; he thinks less of his collars and ties and the
polish of his boots than he used to do, and one sees that he has
some ideas in his head besides those about horses. Captain
Forster is, perhaps, least changed, but of that you can judge
better than I can, for you see more of him. As to Mr.
Bathurst, I can say nothing, for we never see him now. I
think he is the only man in the station who goes about his
work as usual ; he starts away the first thing in the morning,
and comes back late in the evening, and I suppose spends the
night in writing reports, though what is the use of writing
reports at the present time, I don’t know. Mr. Hunter was
saying last night it was very foolish of him. What with dis-
banded soldiers, and what with parties of mutineers, it is most
dangerous for any European to stir outside the station.”
“ Uncle was saying the same,” Isobel said quietly. “ \Vell,
here we separate. Of course you will be in as usual this even-
ing 1 " for the Major’s house was the general rendezvous after
dinner.
lsohel had her private troubles, although, as she often said
angrily to herself, when she thought of them, what did it
matter now'l She was discontented with herself for having
spoken as strongly as she did as to the man’s cowardice. She
was very discontented with the Doctor for having repeated it.
She was angry with Bathurst for staying away altogether,
although willing to admit that, after he knew what she had


160 RU] UB, ms jUGGLER.
said, it was impossible that he should meet her as before.
Most of all, perhaps, she was angry because, at a time when
their lives were all in deadly peril, she should allow the matter
to dwell in her mind a single moment.
Late one afternoon, Bathurst walked into the Major’s bun-
galow just as he was about to sit down to dinner.
“ Major, I want to speak to you for a moment,” he said.
“ Sit down and have some dinner, Bathurst. You have
become altogether a stranger.”
“Thank you, Major, but I have a great deal to do. Can
you spare me five minutes now'l It is of importance.”
Isobel rose to leave the room.
“There is no reason you should not hear, Miss Hannay, but
it would be better that none of the servants should be present.
That is whyI wish to speak beforeyour uncle goes in to dinner.”
Isobel sat down with an air of indifference.
“ For the last week, Major, I have ridden every day five and
twenty to thirty miles in the direction of Cawnpore; my official
work has been practically at an end since we heard the news from
Meerut. I could be of no use here, and thought that I could do
no better service than trying to obtain the earliest news from
Cawnpore ; I am sorry to say that this afternoon I distinctly
heard firing in that direction. What the result is, of course, I
do net know, but I feel that there is little doubt that troubles
have begun there. But this is not all. On my return home,
ten minutes ago, I found this letter on my dressing-table. It
had no direction, and is, as you see, in IIindustanee,” and he
handed it to the Major, who read: “ To the Sahib Bathurst,—
Rising at Cawnpore to-day. Nana Sahib and his troops will
join the Sepoys. \Vhites will be destroyed. Rising at Deen-
nu gghur at daylight to-morrow. Troops, after killing whites,
will join those at Cawnpore. Be warned in time—this tigeris
not to be beaten OH with a. whip.”
“ Good heavens l ” the Major exclaimed, “ can this be true?
Can it be possible that the Rajah of Bithoor is going to join the
mutineers'l It is impossible, he could never be such a scoundrel.”
“ \Vhat is it, uncle? ” Isobel asked, leaving her seat and
coming up to him.
The Major translated the letter.
“ It must be a hoax,” he went on ; “ I cannot believe it. What
does this stuff about beating a tiger with a whip mean 'i ”
“I am sorry to say, Major Hannay, that part of the letter
convinces me that the contents can be implicitly relied upon.


Ruyz/B, THE jUGGLER. 161
The writer did not dare sign his name, but those words are
sufficient to show me, and were no doubt intended to show me,
who the warning comes from. It is from that juggler who per-
formed here some six weeks ago. Travelling about as he does,
and putting aside altogether those strange powers of his, he has
no doubt the means of knowing what is going on. As I told
you that night, I had done him some slight service, and he
promised at the time that, if the occasion should ever arise,
he would risk his life to save mine. The fact that he showed, I
have no doubt, especially to please me, feats that few Euro-
peans have seen before, is, to my mind, a proof of his good-
will, and that he meant what he said."
“ But how do you know that it is from him, Bathurst? You
will excuse my pressing the question, but of course everything
depends on my being assured that this communication is
trustworthy.”
“This allusion to the tiger shows me that, Major. It alludes
to an incident that I believe to be known only to him and his
daughter and to Dr. \Vade, to whom alone I mentioned it.”
As the Major still looked inquiringly, Bathurst went on
reluctantly. “It was a trifling affair, Major, the result of a.
passing impulse. I was riding home from Narkeet, and while
coming along the road through the jungle, which was at that
time almost deserted by the natives on account of the ravages
of the man-eater whom the Doctor afterwards shot, I heard a
scream. Galloping forward, I came upon the brute, standing
with one paw upon a prostrate girl, while a man, the juggler,
was standing frantically waving his arms. On the impulse of
the moment, I sprang from my horse and lashed the tiger across
the head with that heavy dog-whip I carry, and the brute was
80 astonished that it bolted in the jungle.
“That was the beginning and end of affairs, except that,
although fortunately the girl was practically nnhurt, she was
so unnerved that we had to carry her to the next village, where
she lay for some time ill from the shock and fright. After that,
they came round here and performed, for my amusement, the
feats I told you of. So you see I have every reason to believe
in the good faith of the writer of this letter.”
“By Jove, Ishouldthinkyouhad l” the Majorsaid. “\Vhy,my
dear Bathurst, I had no idea that you could do such a thing.”
“ \Ve have all our strong points and our weak ones, Major.
That was one of my strong ones, I suppose. And now what had
best be done, sir'l That is the important question at present.”
L


162 R07 UB, THE yuooLER.
This was so evident, that Major Hannay at once dismissed
all other thoughts from his mind.
“ Of course, I and the other oflicers must remain at our posts
until the Sepoys actually arrive. The question is as to the
others. Now that we know the worst, or believe we know it,
ought we to send the women and children away'l"
“ That is the question, sir. But where can they be sent!
Lucknow is besieged ; the whites at Cawnpore must have been
surrounded by this time; the bands of mutineers are ranging
the whole country, and at the news that Nana Sahib has joined
the rebels, it is probable that all will rise. I should say that
it was a matter in which Mr. Hunter and other civilians had
better be consulted.”
“ Yes, we will hold a council,” the Major said.
“I think, Major, it should be done quietly. It is probable that
many of the servants may know of the intentions of the Sepoys,
and if they see that anything like a council of the Europeans was
being held, they may take the news to the Sepoys, and the latter,
thinking that their intention is known, may rise at once.”
“That is quite true. Yes, we must do nothing to arouse
suspicion. \Vhat do you propose, Mr. Bathurst l ”
“I will go and have a talk with the Doctor; he can go round
to the other oflicers one by one. I will tell Mr. Hunter, and
he will tell the other residents, so that when they meet here in
the evening no explanations will be needed, and a very few
words as we sit out on the verandah will be suflicient.”
“That will be a very good plan. We will sit down to dinner
as if nothing had happened; if they are watching at all, they
will be keeping their eyes on us then.”
“Very well; I will be in by nine o’clock, Major ;” and with
a slight bow to Isobel, Bathurst stepped out through the open
window, and made his way to the Doctor's.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE Doctor had just sat down to dinner when Bathurst came
in. The two subalterns were dining with him.
“That’s good, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, as he entered.
“ Boy, put a chair for Mr. Bathurst. I had begun to think
that you had deserted me as well as everybody else.”
“I was not thinking of dining,” Bathurst said, as he sat down,
“ but I will do so with pleasure, though I told my man I should


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 163
be back in half an hour; ” and as the servant left the room he
added, “I have much to say, Doctor; get through dinner as
quickly as you can, and get the servants out of the tent.”
The conversation was at once turned by the Doctor upon shoot-
ing and hunting, and no allusion was made to passing events
until cofl'ee was put on the table and the servant retired. The
talk, which had been lively during dinner, then ceased.
“\Vell, Bathurst,” the Doctor asked, “I suppose you have
something serious to tell me 1 ”
“Very serious, Doctor,” and he repeated the news he had
given the Major.
“It could not be worse, Bathurst,” the Doctor said quietly,
after the first shock of the news had passed. “ You know I
never had any faith in the Sepoys since I saw how this madness
was spreading from station to station. This sort of thing is
contagious. It becomes a sort of epidemic, and in spite of the
assurances of vthe men I felt sure they would go. But this
scoundrel of Bithoor turning against us is more than I bar-
gained for. There is no disguising the fact that it means a
general rising through Oude, and in that case God help the
women and children. As for us, it all comes in the line of
business. What does the Major say 1 ”
“The only question that seemed to him to be open was
whether the women and children could be got away.”
“But there does not seem any possible place for them to go to.
One or two might travel down the country in disguise, but that
is out of the question for a large party. There is no refuge
nearer than Allahabad. With every man’s hand against them, I
see not the slightest chance of a party making their way down.”
“You or I might do it easily enough, Doctor, but for women
it seems to me out of the question; still, that is a matter for
each married man to decide for himself. The prospect is dark
enough any way, but, as before, it seems to me that everything
really depends upon the Zemindars. If we hold the court-house
it is possible the Sepoys may be beaten off in their first attack,
and in their impatience to join the mutineers, who are all
apparently marching for Delhi, they may go 011' without throw-
ing away their lives by attacking us, for they must see they
will not be able to take the place without cannon. But if the
Zemindais join them with cannon, we may defend ourselves till
the last, but there can be but one end to it.”
TheDoctornodded. “That is the situation exactly, Bathurst.”
“ I am glad we know the danger, and shall be able to face


I64 RUjUB, THE yUGGLER.
it openly,” \Vilson said. “ For the last month Richards and I
have been keeping watch alternately, and it has been beastly
funky work sitting there with one’s pistols on the table before
one, listening, and knowing any moment there might be a
yell, and these brown devils come pouring in. Now, at least,
we are likely to have a fight for it, and to know that some of
them will go down before we do.”
Richards cordially agreed with his companion.
“ well, now, what are the orders, Bathurst 'l ” said the Doctor.
“There are no orders as yet, Doctor. The Major says you
will go round to the others, Doolan, Rintoul, and Forster, and
tell them. I am to go round to Hunter and the other civilians.
Then, this evening we are to meet at nine o’clock, as usual, at
the Major’s. If the others decide that the only plan is for all
to stop here and fight it out, there will be no occasion for any-
thing like a council; it will only have to be arranged at what
time we all move into the fort, and the best means for keeping
the news from spreading to the Sepoys. Not that it will make
much difference after they have once fairly turned in. If there
is one thing a Hindoo hates more than another, it is getting
from under his blankets when he has once got himself warm
at night. Even if they heard at one or two o’clock in the
morning that we were moving into the fort, I don’t think they
would turn out until morning.”
“No, I am sure they would not,” the Doctor agreed.
“ If there were a few more of us,” Richards said, “I should
vote for our beginning it. If we were to fall suddenly upon
them, we might kill a lot and scare the rest off.”
“\Ve are too few for that,” the Doctor said. “Besides,
although Bathurst answers for the good faith of the sender of
the warning, there has as yet been no act of mutiny that would
justify our taking such a step as that. It would come to the
same thing. \Ve might kill a good many, but in the long run
three hundred men would be more than a match for a dozen,
and then the women would be at their mercy. \Vell, we had
better be moving, or we shall not have time to go round to the
bungalows before the people set out for the Major’s.”
It was a painful mission that Bathurst had to perform, for
he had to tell those he called upon that almost certain death
was at hand, but the news was everywhere received calmly.
The strain had of late been so great, that the news that the
crisis was at hand was almost welcome. He did not stay long
anywhere, but, after setting the alternative before them, left


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 165
husband and wife to discuss whether to try to make down to
Allahabad, or to take refuge in the fort.
Soon after nine o’clock all were at Major Hannay’s. There
were pale faces among them, but no stranger would have
supposed that the whole party had just received news which
was virtually a death warrant. The ladies talked together as
usual, while the men moved in and out of the room, sometimes
talking with the Major, sometimes sitting down for a few
minutes in the verandah outside, or talking there in low tones
together.
The Major moved about among them, and soon learned that
all had resolved to stay and meet together whatever came, pre-
ferring that to the hardships and unknown dangers of flight.
“I am glad you have all decided so,” he said quietly. “In
the state the country is, the chances of getting to Allahabad are
next to nothing. Here we may hold out till Lawrence restores
order at Lucknow, and then he may be able to send a party to
bring us in. Or the mutineers may draw off and march to
Delhi. I certainly think the chances are best here ; besides,
every rifle we have is of importance, and though if any of you
had made up your minds to try and escape I should have made
no objection, I am glad that we shall all stand together here.”
The arrangements were then briefly made for the removal to
the court-house. All were to go back and apparently to retire
to bed as usual. At twelve o’clock the men, armed, were to
call up their servants, load them up with such things as were
most required, and proceed with them, the women and children,
at once to the court-house. Half the men were to remain there
on guard, while the others would continue with the servants to
make journeys backwards and forwards to the bungalows, bring-
ing“ in as much as could be carried, the guard to be changed
every hour. In the morning the servants were all to have the
choice given them of remaining with their masters or leaving.
Captain Forster was the only dissentient. He was in favour
of the whole party mounting, placing the women and children
in carriages, and making off in a body, fighting their way if
necessary down to Allahabad. He admitted that, in'addition
to the hundred troopers of his own squadron, they might be cut
oil" by the mutinous cavalry from Cawnpore, fall in with bodies
of rebels or be attacked by villagers, but he maintained that
there was at least some chance of cutting their way through,
while, once shut up in the court-house, escape would be well-
nigh impossible.


x66 Ruva, THE jUGGLER.
“ But you all along agreed to our holding the court-house,
Forster," the Major said.
“ Yes ; but then I reckoned upon Cawnpore holding out with
the assistance of N am. Sahib, and upon the country remaining
quiet. Now the whole thing is changed. I am quite ready to
light in the open, and to take my chance of being killed there,
but I protest against being shut up like a rat in a hole.”
To the rest, however, the proposal appeared desperate. There
would be no withstanding a. single charge of the well-trained
troopers, especially as it would be necessary to guard the
vehicles. Had it not been for that, the small body of men
might possibly have cut their way through the cavalry; but
even then they would be so hotly pursued that the most of
them would assuredly be hunted down. But encumbered by
the women such an enterprise seemed utterly hopeless, and
the whole of the others were unanimously against it.
The party broke up very early. The strain of maintaining
their ordinary demeanour was too great to be long endured,
and the ladies with children were anxious to return as soon as
possible to them, lest at the last moment the Sepoys should have
made some change in their arrangements By ten o’clock the
whole party had left.
The two subalterns had no preparations to make; they had
already sent most of their things into the hospital ; and light-
ing their pipes, they sat down and talked quietly till midnight ;
then, placing their pistols in their belts and wrapping them-
selves in their cloaks, they went into the Doctor’s tent, which
was next to theirs.
The Doctor at once roused his servant, who was sleeping
in a shelter-tent pitched by the side of his. The man came
in looking surprised at being called. “ Boshun,” the Doctor
said, “you have been with me ten years, and I believe you to
be faithful.”
“I would lay down my life for the Sahib,” the man said
quietly.
“You have heard nothing of any trouble with the Sepoys?”
“ N0, Sahib, they know that Roshun is faithful to his master.”
“ \Ve have news that they are going to rise in the morning
and kill all Europeans, so we are going to move at once into
the hospita .”
“ Good, Sahib ; what will you take with you 1 ”
“ My books and papers have all gone in," the Doctor said ;
“that portmanteau may as well go. _I will carry these two


RUjUB, THE 'yUGGLER. 167
rifles myself; the ammunition is all there except that bag in
the corner, which I will sling round my shoulder.”
“ \Vhat are in those two cases, Doctor 1” Wilson asked.
“Brandy, lad.” '
“ We may as well each carry one of those, Doctor, if your
boy takes the portmanteau. It would be a pity to leave good
liquor to be wasted by those brutes."
“I agree with you, Wilson ; besides, the less liquor they get
hold of the better for us. Now if you are all ready we will
start; but we must move quietly, or the sentry at the quarter
guard may hear us.”
Ten minutes later they reached the hospital, being the last
of the party to arrive there.
“Now, Major,” the Doctor said cheerily, as soon as he en-
tered, “as this place is supposed to be under my special charge,
I will take command for the present. Wilson and Richards will
act as my lieutenants. \Ve have nothing to do outside, and can
devote ourselves to getting things a little straight here. The
first thing to do is to light lamps in all the lower rooms; then
we can see What we are doing, and the ladies will be able to
give us their help, while the men go out with the servants to
bring things in; and remember the first thing to do is to bring
in the horses. They may be useful to us. There is a good
store of forage piled in the corner of the yard, but the syces
had best bring in as much more as they can carry. Now,
ladies, if yOu will all bring your bundles inside the house we
will set about arranging things, and at any rate get the chil-
dren into bed as quickly as possible.”
As it had been already settled as to the rooms to be occupied,
the ladies and their ayahs set to work at once, glad to have some-
thing to employ them. One of the rooms which had been fitted
up with beds had been devoted to the purposes of a nursery, and
the children, most of whom were still asleep, were soon settled
there. Two other rooms had been fitted up for the use of the
ladies, 'while the men were to occupy two others, the court-room
being turned into a general meeting and dining-room.
At first there was not much to do ; but as the servants, closely
watched by their masters, went backwards and forwards bring-
ing in goods of all kinds, there was plenty of employment in
carrying them down to a large underground room, where they
were left to be sorted later on.
The Doctor had appointed Isobel Hannay and the two Miss
Hunters to the work of lighting a fire and getting boiling


RUj'UB, THE yUGGLER. 169
others all night, and after seeing that all his papers were
carried to the court-house, he had troubled but little about
his own belongings, but had assisted the others in bringing in
their goods.
At daylight the Major and his oflicers mounted and rode
quietly down towards the parade ground. Bathurst and Mr.
Hunter, with several of the servants, took their places at the
gates, in readiness to open and close them quickly, while the
Doctor and the other Europeans went up to the roof, where
they placed in readiness six muskets for each man, from the
store in the court-house. Isobel Hannay and the wives of
the two Captains were too anxious to remain below, and went
up to the roof also. The Doctor took his place by them,
examining the lines with a field-glass.
The ofiicers halted when they reached the parade ground,
and sat on their horses in a group, waiting for the men to
turn out as usual.
“There goes the assembly,” the Doctor said, as the notes
of the bugle came to their ears. “The men are turning out
of their tents. There, I can make out Forster; he has just
mounted; a plucky fellow that.”
Instead of straggling out on to the parade ground as usual,
the Sepoys seemed to hang about their tents. The cavalry
mounted and formed up in their lines. Suddenly a gun was
fired, and as if at the signal the whole of the infantry rushed
forward towards the oflieers, yelling and firing, and the latter at
once turned their horses and rode towards the court-house.
“ Don’t be alarmed, my dear,” the Doctor said to Isobel ; “ I
don’t suppose any one is hit. The Sepoys are not good shots at
the best of times, and firing running they would not be able to
hit a haystack at a hundred yards. The cavalry stand firm,
you see,” he said, turning his glass in that direction. “Forster
is haranguing them. There, three of the native officers are
riding up to him. Ah I one has fired at him! Missed ! Ah I
that is a better shot,” as the man fell from his horse, from a
shot from his Captain’s pistol.
The other two rushed at him. One he cut doWn, and the
other shot. Then he could be seen again, shouting and waving
his sword to the men, but their yells could be heard as they
rode forward at him.
“Ride, man, ride I ” the Doctor shouted, although his voice
could not have been heard at a quarter of the distance.
But instead of turning Forster rode right at them. There


170 ‘Ruy UB, THE EUGGLER.
was a confused melee for a moment, and then his figure appeared
beyond the line, through which he had broken. \Vith yells of
fury the troopers reined in their horses and tried to turn them,
but before they could do so the officer was upon them again.
His revolver cracked in his left hand, and his sword flashed in
his right. Two or three horses and men were seen to roll over,
and in a moment he was through them again and riding at
full speed for the court-house, under a scattered fire from the
infantry, while the horsemen, now in a confused mass, galloped
behind him.
“ Now then,” the Doctor shouted, picking up his rifle; “let
them know we are within range, but mind you don’t hit Forster.
Fire two or three shots, and then run down to the gate. He.
is well mounted, and has a good fifty yards’ start of them.”
Then taking deliberate aim he fired. The others followed
his example. Three of the troopers dropped from their horses.
Four times those on the terrace fired, and then ran down, each,
at the Doctor’s order, taking two guns with him. One of these
was placed in the hands of each of the officers who had just
ridden in, and they then gathered round the gate. In two
minutes Forster rode in at full speed, then fifteen muskets
flashed out, and several of the pursuers fell from their horses.
A minute later the gate was closed and barred, and the men
all ran up to the roof, from which three muskets were fired
simultaneously.
“ \Vell done,” the Doctor exclaimed. “ That is a good
beginning.”
A minute later a brisk fire was opened from the terrace
upon the cavalry, who at once turned and rode rapidly back
to their lines.
Captain Forster had not come scathless through the fray; his
cheek had been laid open by a sabre out, and a musket ball had
gone through the fleshy part of his arm as he rode back.
“This comes of fighting when there is no occasion,” the
Doctor growled, when he dressed his wounds. “ Here you are
charging a. host like a paladin of old, forgetful that we want
every man who can lift an arm in defence of this place.”
“ I think, Doctor, there is some one else wants your services
more than I do.”
“Yes; is any one else hit?”
“ No, I don’t know that any one else is hit, Doctor ; but as
I turned to come into the house after the gates were shut,
there was that fellow Bathurst leaning against the wall as








He was riding at full speed for the Court-house.





R07 012, THE 7UGGLER. m
white as a sheet, and shaking all over like a leaf. I should
say a strong dose of Dutch courage Would be the best medicine
there.”
“You do not do justice to Bathurst, Captain Forster,” the
Doctor said gravely. “He is a man I esteem most highly.
In some respects he is the bravest man I know, but he is
constitutionally unableto stand noise, and the sound of a gun
is torture to him. It is an unfortunate idiosyncrasy for which
he is in no way accountable." » .
“ Exceedingly unfortunate, I should say,” Forster said,
with a dry laugh ; “especially at times like this. It is rather
unlucky for him that fighting is generally accompanied by
noise. If I had such an idiosyncrasy, as you call it, I would
blow out my brains.”
“Perhaps Bathurst would do so too, Captain Forster, if
he had not more brains to blow out than some people have.”
“That is sharp, Doctor,” Forster laughed good-temperedly.
“I don’t mind a fair hit.”
“Well, I must go,” the Doctor said, somewhat mollified ;
“ there is plenty to do, and I expect, after these fellows have
held a council of war, they will be trying an attack.”
\Vhen the Doctor went out he found the whole of the garrison
busy. The Major had placed four men on the roof, and had
ordered every one else to fill the bags that had been prepared
for the purpose with earth from the garden. It was only an
order to the men and male servants, but the ladies had all
gone out to render their assistance. As fast as the natives
filled the bags with earth the ladies sewed up the mouths of
the bags, and the men carried them away and piled them
against the gate.
The garrison consisted of the six military officers, the Doctor,
seven civilians, ten ladies, eight children, thirty-eight male
servants, and six females. The work, therefore, went on
rapidly, and in the course of two hours so large a pile of bags
was built up against the gate that there was no probability
whatever of its being forced.
“ Now,’ ’ the Major said, “we want four dozen bags at least
for the parapet of the terrace. We need not raise it all, but
we must build up a. breastwork two bags high at each of the
angles.” _
There was only just time to accomplish this when one of
the watch on the roof reported that the Sepoys were firing the
bungalows. As soon as they saw that the Europeans had


:71 R0703, THE jUGGLER.
gained the shelter of the court-house, the Sepoys, with yells
of triumph, had made for the houses of the Europeans, and
their disappointment at finding that not only had all the
whites taken refuge in the court-house, but that they had
removed most of their property, vented itself in setting fire to
the buildings, after stripping them of everything, and then
amused themselves by keeping up a straggling fire against
the court-house.
As soon as the bags were taken on to the roof, the defenders,
keeping as much as possible under the shelter of the parapet,
carried them to the corners of the terrace and piled them two
deep, thus forming a breastwork four feet high. Eight of the
best shots were then chosen, and two of them took post at each
corner.
“ N ow,” the Doctor said cheerfully, as he sat behind a small
loophole that had been left between the bags, “it is our turn,
and I don't fancy we shall waste as much lead as they have
been doing.”
The fire from the defenders was slow, but it was deadly, and
in a very short time the Sepoys no longer dared to show them-
selves in the open, but took refuge behind trees, whence they
endeavoured to reply to the fire on the roof 3 but even this proved
so dangerous that it was not long before the fire ceased alto—
gether, and they drew off under cover of the smoke from the
burning bungalows.
Isobel Hannay had met Bathurst as he was carrying a sack
of earth to the roof.
“ I have been wanting to speak to you, Mr. Bathurst, ever
since yesterday evening, but you have never given me an
opportunity. Will you step into the storeroom for a few
minutes as you come down 1 ”
As he came down he went to the door of the room in which
Isobel was standing awaiting him.
"I am not coming in, Miss Hannay; I believe I know what
you are going to say. I saw it in your face last night when I
had to tell that tiger story. You want to say that you are
sorry you said that you despised cowards. Do not say it ,' you
were perfectly right 5 you cannot despise me one-ten th as much
as I despise myself. \Vhile you were looking at the mutineers
from the roof I was leaning against the wall below well-nigh
fainting. \Vhat do you think my feelings must be that here,
where every man is brave, where there are women and children
to be defended, I alone cannot bear my part. Look at my face 3


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 173
I know there is not a vestige of colour in it. Look at my hands ;
they are not steady yet. It is useless for you to speak; you
may pity me, but you cannot but despise me. Believe me, that
death when it comes will be to me a happy release indeed from
the shame and misery I feel.”
Then, turning, he left the girl without another word, and
went about his work. The Doctor had, just before going up
to take his place on the roof, come across him. '
“Come in here, my dear Bathurst,” he said, seizing his arm
and dragging him into the room which had been given up to
him for his drugs and surgical appliances. “Let me give you a
strong dose of ammonia and ginger; you want a pick-up I can
see by your face.”
“1 want it, Doctor, but I will not take it,” Bathurst said.
“That is one thing I have made up my mind to. I will take
no spirits to create a courage that I do not possess.”
“ It is not courage ; it has nothing to do with courage,” the
Doctor said angrily. “It is a simple question of nerves, as I
have told you over and over again.”
“Call it what you like, Doctor, the result is precisely the
same. I do not mind taking a strong dose of quinine if you
will give it me, for I feel as weak as a child, but no spirits. ”
With an impatient shrug of the shoulders, the Doctor mixed
9. strong dose of quinine and gave it to him.
An hour later a sudden outburst of musketry took place. Not
a native showed himself on the side of the house facing the
maidan, but from the gardens on the other three sides a heavy
fire was opened.
“ Every man to the roof,” the Major said ; “ four men to each
of the rear corners, three to the others. Do you think you are
fit to fire, Forster? Had you not better keep quiet for to-day ;
you will have opportunities enough.”
“ I am all right, Major,” he said carelessly. “I can put my
rifle through a loophole and fire, though I have one arm in a
sling. By Jove !” he broke ofl’ suddenly; “ look at that fellow
Bathurst—he looks like a ghost.”
The roll of musketry was unabated, and the defenders were
already beginning to answer it; the bullets sung thickly over-
head, and above the din could be heard the shouts of the
natives. Bathurst’s face \;as rigid and ghastly pale. The
Major hurried to him.
“My dear Bathurst,” he said, “I think you had better go
below. You will find plenty of work to do there.”


174 RU] UB, THE 70001.“.
“ My work is here,” Bathurst said, as if speaking to himself ;
“it must be done.”
The Major could not at the moment pay further attention to
him, for a roar of fire broke out round the enclosure, as from
the ruined bungalows and from every bush the Sepoys, who
had crept up, now commenced the attack in earnest, while the
defenders lying behind the parapet replied slowly and steadily,
aiming at the puffs of smoke as they darted out. His atten-
tion was suddenly called by a shout from the Doctor.
“ Are you mad, Bathurst? Lie down, man ; you are throw-
ing away your life. ”
Turning round, the Major saw Bathurst standing upright
by the parapet, facing the point where the enemy’s fire was
hottest. He held a rifle in his hand, but did not attempt to
fire; his figure swayed slightly to and fro.
“Lie down,” the Major shouted, “lie down, sir ; ” and then as
Bathurst still stood unmoved hewas about to rush forward,wh en
the Doctor from one side and Captain Forster from the other
rushed towards him through a storm of bullets, seized him in
their arms, and dragged him back to the centre of the terrace.
“ N obly done, gentlemen,” the Major said, as they laid
Bathurst down ; “it was almost miraculous your not being hit.”
Bathurst had struggled fiercely for a moment, and then his
resistance had suddenly ceased, and he had been dragged back
like a wooden figure. His eyes were closed now.
“Has he been hit, Doctor l ” the Major asked. “ It seems
impossible he can have escaped. \Vhat madness possessed him
to put himself there as a target?”
“No, I don’t think he is hit,” the Doctor said, as he examined
him. “ I think he has fainted. \Ve had better carry him down
to my room. Shake hands, Forster 3 I know you and Bathurst
were not good friends, and you risked your life to save him.”
“ I did not think who it was,” Forster said, with a careless
laugh. “I saw a man behaving like a madman, and naturally
went to pull him down. However, I shall think better of him
in future, though I doubt whether he was in his right senses.”
“ He wanted to be killed,” the Doctor said quietly ; “and the
effort that he made to place himself in the way of death must
have been greater than either you or I can well understand,
Forster. I know the circumstances of his case. Morally I be—
lieve there is no braver man living than he is; physically he has
the constitution of a timid woman ; it is mind against'body.”
“The distinction is too fine for me, Doctor,” Forster said, as


RUJUB, THE jUGGLER. 175
he turned to go off to his post by the parapet. “I understand
pluck and I understand cowardice, but this mysterious mixture
you speak of is beyond me altogether.”
The Major and Dr. \Vade lifted Bathurst and carried him
below Mrs. Hunter, who had been appointed chief nurse,
met them.
“ Is he badly wounded, Doctor'l ”
“No; he is not wounded at all, Mrs. Hunter. He stood up
at the edge of the parapet and exposed himself so rashly to the
Sepoys’ fire that we had to drag him away, and then the re-
action, acting on a nervous temperament, was too much for
him, and he fainted. \Ve shall soon bring him round. You
can come in with me, but keep the others away.”
The Major at once returned to the terrace.
In spite of the restoratives the Doctor poured through his
lips, and cold water dashed in his face, Bathurst was some
time before he opened his eyes. Seeing Mrs. Hunter and the
Doctor beside him, he made an effort to rise.
“You must lie still, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, pressinghis
hand on his shoulder. “You have donea very foolish thing, a
very wrong thing. You have tried to throw away your life.”
“No, I did not. I had no thought of throwing away my
life,” Bathurst said, after a pause. “I was trying to make
myself stand fire. I did not think whether I should be hit or
not. I am not afraid of bullets, Doctor; it’s the horrible,
fiendish noise that I cannot stand.”
“ I know, my boy,” the Doctor said kindly; “ but it comes to
the same thing. You did put yourself in the way of bullets when
your doing so was of no possible advantage, and it is almost a
miracle that you escaped unhurt. You must remain here quiet
for the present. I shall leave you in charge of Mrs. Hunter.
There is nothing for you to do on the roof at present. This
attack is a mere outbreak of rage on the part of the Sepoys that
we have all escaped them. They know well enough they can’t
take this house by merely firing away at the roof. \Vhen they
attack in earnest it will be quite time for you to take part in
the affair again. Now, Mrs. Hunter, my orders are absolute
that he is not to be allowed to get up.”
On the Doctor leaving the room he found several of the
ladies outside; the news that Mr. Bathurst had been carried
down had spread among them.
“ Is he badly hurt, Doctor'l ”
“ No, ladies. Mr. Bathurst is, unfortunately for himself, an


176 RU} UB, THE jUGGLER.
extremely nervous man, and the noise of firearms have an effect
upon him that he cannot by any effort of his own overcome.
In order, as he says, to try and accustom himself to it, he went
and stood at the edge of the parapet in full sight of the Sepoys,
and let them blaze away at him. He must have been killed if
Forster and I had not dragged him away by main force. Then
came the natural reaction, and he fainted. That is all there is
about it. Poor fellow, he is extremely sensitive on the ground
of personal courage. In other respects I have known him do
things requiring an amount of pluck that not one man in a.
hundred possesses, and I wish you all to remember that his
nervousness at the effect of the noise of firearms is a purely
constitutional weakness, for which he is in no way to be blamed.
He has just risked his life in the most reckless manner in order
to overcome what he considers, and what he knows that some
persons consider, is cowardice, and it would be as cruel, and I
may say as contemptible, to despise him for a constitutional
failing, as it would be to despise a person for being born a
humpback or a cripple. But I cannot stand talking any
longer. I shall be of more use on the roof than I am here.”
Isobel Hannay was not among those who had gathered near
the door of the room in which Bathurst was lying, but the
Doctor had raised his voice and she heard what he said, and
bent over her work of sewing strips of linen together for
bandages with a. paler face than had been caused by the out-
break of musketry.
Gradually the firing ceased. The Sepoys had suffered heavily
from the steady fire of the invisible defenders and gradually
drew ofl“, and in an hour from the commencement of the attack
all was silent round the building.
“So far so good, ladies,” the Major said cheerily, as the
garrison, leaving one man on watch, descended from the roof.
“ \Ve have had no casualties, and I think we must have in—
fiicted a good many, and the mutineers are not likely to try
that game on again, for they must see that they are wasting
ammunition, and are doing us no harm. Now I hope the
servants have got tiflin ready for us, for I am sure we have all
excellent appetites.” '
“ Tifiin is quite ready, Major,” Mrs. Doolan, who had been
appointed chief of the commissariat department, said cheerfully.
“The servants were a little disorganised when the firing began,
but they soon became accustomed to it, and I think you will
find everything in order in the hall.” .


RU] UB, THE YUGGLER. 177
The meal was really a cheerful one. The fact that the first
attack had passed over without any one being hit raised the
spirits of the women, and all were disposed to look at matters
in a cheerful light. The two young subalterns were in high
spirits, and the party Were more lively than they had been since
the first outbreak of the mutiny. All had felt severely the
strain of waiting, and the reality of danger was a positive relief
after the continuous suspense. It was much to them to know
that the crisis had come at last, that they were still all together,
and the foe were without.
“It is diflicult to believe,” Mrs. Doolan said, “that it was
only yesterday evening we were all gathered at the Major’s.
It seems an age since then.”
“Yes, indeed,” Mrs. Rintoul agreed ; “the night seemed
endless. The worst time was the waiting till we were to begin
to move over. After that I did not so much mind, though it
seemed more like a week than a night while the things were
being brought in here.”
“ I think the worst time was while we were waiting watch-
ing from the roof to see whether the troops would come out
on parade as usual,” Isobel said. “ When once uncle and the
others were all in, and Captain Forster, and the gates were
shut, it seemed that our anxieties were over.”
“That was a mad charge of yours, Forster,” the Major said.
“It was like the Balaclava business—magnificent ; but it
wasn’t war.”
“I did not think of it one way or the other,” Captain Forster
laughed. “I was so furious at the insolence of those dogs
attacking me, that I thought of nothing else, and just went at
them ; but of course it was foolish.”
“It did good,” the Doctor said. “It showed the Sepoys how
little we thought of them, and how a single white officer was
ready to match himself against a squadron. It will render them
a good deal more careful in their attack than they otherwise
would have been. It brought them under our fire, too, and
they suffered pretty heavily ; and I am sure the infantry must
have lost a good many men from our fire just new. I hope they
will come to the conclusion that the wisest thing they can do
is to march away to Delhi and leave us severely alone. Now
what are your orders, Major, for after breakfast 1 ”
“I think the best thing is for every one to lie down for a few
hours,” the Major said. “ N 0 one had a wink of sleep last night,
and most of us have not slept much for some nights past. We
ll


RUJ'UB, THE j‘UGGLER. :79
“ You would have shared the responsibility, anyhow, Doctor,
for it was you who repeated my words to him.”
“ \Ve will not go over that ground again,” said the Doctor
quietly. “’I gave you my reasons for doing so, and those
reasons are to my mind convincing. Now I will tell you how
this constitutional nervousness on his part arose. He told me
the story; but as'at- that time there had been no occasion for
him to show whether he was brave or otherwise, I considered
my lips sealed. Now that this weakness has been exhibited,
I consider myself more than justified in explaining its origin.”
And he then repeated the story Bathurst had told him.
“You see,” he said, when he had finished, “it is a consti-
tutional matter beyond his control ; it is a. sert of antipathy.
I have known a case of a woman courageous in all other re-
spects who at the sight of even a dead cockroach would faint
away; I have seen one of the most gallant officers of my ac-
quaintance turn pale at the sight of a spider. Certainly no
one would think of calling either one or the other coward ; and
assuredly such a name should not be applied to a man who would
face a tiger armed onlywith a whip in defence of a native woman,
because his nerves go all to pieces at the sound of firearms.”
“If you had told me all this before, I should never have
spoken as I did,” Isobel pleaded.
“ I did not go into the full details, but I told you that he was
not responsible for his want of firmness under fire, and that I
knew him in other respects to be a brave man,” the Doctor said
uncompromisingly. “Since then you have by your manner
driven him away from you. You have flirted—well, you may
not call it flirting,” he broke off in answer to a gesture of denial,
“ but it was the same thing—with a man who is undoubtedly a
gallant soldier—a very paladin, if you like—but who, in spite of
his handsome face and pleasant manner, is no more to be com-
pared with Bathurst in point of moral qualities or mental ability
than light to dark, and this after I had like an old fool gone
out of my way to warn you. You have disappointed me alto-
gether, Isobel Hannay.”
Isobel stood motionless before him, with downcast eyes.
“ \Vel], there, my dear,” the Doctor went on hurriedly, as he
saw a tear glisten in her eyelashes ; “ don’t let us say anything
more about it. In the first place, it is no affair of mine ; and
in the second place, your point of view was that most women
would take at a time like this; only, you know, I expected you
would not have done just as other women would. \Ve cannot


18o RUj’UB, ‘THE j'UGGLER.
afford to quarrel now, for there is no doubt that, although we
may put a good face on the matter, our position is one of grave
peril, and it is of no use troubling over trifies. Now run away,
and get a few hours’ sleep if you can. You will want all your
strength before We are through with this business.”
While the Doctor had been talking to Isobel, the men had
gathered below in a sort of informal council, the subject being
Bathurst’s conduct on the roof.
“I would not have believed it if I had not seen it,” Captain
Rintoul said. “The man was absolutely helpless with fright ;
I never saw such an exhibition ; and then his fainting afterwards
and having to be carried away was disgusting; in fact, it is
worse than that.” There was a general murmur of assent.
“ It is disgraceful,” one of the civilians said ; “ I am ashamed
that the man should belong to our service; the idea of a fellow
being helpless by fright when there are women and children to
be defended—it is downright revolting.”
“ \Vell, he did go and stick himself up in front,” W'ilson said ;
“ you should remember that. He may have been in a blue funk ,
I don’t say he wasn’t; still, you know, he didn’t go away and
try to hide himself, but he stuck himself up in front for them
to fire at. I think we ought to take that into consideration.’
“Dr. Wade says Bathurst put himself there to try and ac-
custom himself to fire,” Captain Forster said. “Mind, I don’t
pretend to like the man. \Ve were at school together, and he was
a coward then and a sneak, but for all that one should look at
it fairly. The Doctor asserts that Bathurst is morally brave,
but that somehow or other his nerves are too much for him.
I don’t pretend to understand it myself, but there is no doubt
about the Doctor’s pluck, and I don’t think he would stand up
for Bathurst as he does unless he really thought he was not
altogether accountable for showing the white feather. I think,
too, from what he let drop, that the Major is to some extent
of the same opinion. \Vhat do you think, Doolan ’Z ”
“ I like Bathurst,” Captain Doolan said ; “ I have always
thought him a first-rate fellow; but one can’t stick up, you know,
for a fellow who can’t behave as a gentleman ought to, espe-
cially when there are women and children in danger.’ '
“ It is quite impossible that we should associate with him,”
Captain Itintoul said. “I don’t propose that we should tell
him what we think of him, but I think we ought to leave him
severely alone.”


RUj’UB, THE j‘UGGLER. 181
“I should say that he ought to be sent to Coventry,”
Richards said.
“I should not put it in that way,” Mr. Hunter said gravely.
“ I have always esteemed Bathurst. I look upon it as a terribly
sad case ; but I agree with Captain Rintoul that, in the position
in which we are now placed, a. man who proves himself to be a
coward must be made to feel that he stands apart from us. I
should not call it sending him to Coventry, or anything of that
sort, but I do think that we should express by our manner that
we don’t wish to have any communication with him.”
There was a general expression of assent to this opinion,
\Vilson alone protesting against it.
“ You can do as you like,” he said; “ but certainly I shall
speak to Bathurst, and I am sure the Doctor and Major Hannay
will do so. I don't want to stand up for a coward, but I believe
what the Doctor says. I have seen a good deal of Bathurst, and
I like him ; besides, haven’t you heard the story the Doctor has
been telling about his attacking a tiger with a whip to save a
native woman? I don’t care what any one says, a fellow who
is a downright coward couldn’t do a thing like that.”
“ \Vho told the Doctor about it?” Farquharson asked. “If
he got it from Bathurst, I don’t think it goes for much after
what we have seen.”
Wilson would have replied angrily, but Captain Doolan put
his hand on his shoulder.
“Shut up, \Vilson,” he said : “this is no time for disputes; we
are all in one boat here, and must row together like brothers.
You go your own way about Bathurst, I don’t blame you for it ;
he is a man every one has liked, a first-rate official, and a good
fellow all round, except he is not one of the sociable kind. At
any other time one would not think so much of this, but at pre-
sent for a man to lack courage is for him to lack everything. I
hope he will come better out of it than it looks at present. He
will have plenty of chances here, and nc one will be more glad
than I shall to see him pull himself together.”
The Doctor, however, would have quarrelled with every one
all round when he heard what had been decided upon, had not
Major Hannay taken him aside and talked to him strongly.
“ It will never do, Doctor, to have quarrels here, and as com-
mandant I must beg of you not to make this a personal matter.
I am very sorry for this poor fellow; I accept entirely your view
of the matter; but at the same time I really can’t blame the
others for looking at it from a matter of fact point of view









Firing vengefully whenever he caught sight of a lurking native.


RUj‘UB, THE YUGGLER. 183
“ His conduct today,” he said, “ and his courage in rescuing
that native girl from the tiger, illustrate his character. He is
cool, brave, and determined, as might be expected from a man
of so well-balanced a mind as his ; and even when his nerves
utterly broke down under the din of musketry, his will was so
far dominant that he forced himself to go forward and stand
there under fire, an act which was, under the circumstances,
simply heroic.”
There is little difficulty in persuading women as to the
merits of a man they like, and Bathurst had, since the troubles
began, been much more appreciated than before by the ladies of
Deennugghur. They had felt there was something strengthen-
ing and cheering in his presence, for while not attempting to
minimise the danger, there was a calm confidence in his manner
that comforted and reassured those he talked to.
In the last twenty-four hours, too, he had unobtrusively
performed many little kindnesses ; had aided in the removals,
carried the children, looked after the servants, and had been
foremost in the arrangement of everything that could add to
the comfort of the ladies.
“I am glad you have told us all about it, Doctor,” Mrs.
Doolan said ; “ and, of course, no one would dream of blaming
him. I had heard that story about his leaving the army years
ago ; but although I had only seen him once or twice, I did not
believe it for a minute. What you tell us now, Doctor, ex-
plains the whole matter. I pity him sincerely. It must be
something awful for a man at a time like this not to be able
to take his part in the defence, especially when there are us
women here. \Vhy, it would pain me less to see J em brought
in dead, than for him to show the white feather. What can
we do for the poor fellow 'l"
“ Treat him just asusual. There is nothing else you can do,
Mrs. Doolan. Any tone of sympathy, still less of pity, would
be the worst thing possible. He is in the lowest depths at
present; but if he finds by your tone and manner that you
regard him on the same footing as before, he will gradually
come round, and I hope that before the end of the siege he
will have opportunities of retrieving himself. Not under fire-
that is hopeless ; but in other ways.”
“You may be sure we will do all we can, Doctor,” Mrs.
Doolan said warmly; “and there are plenty of ways he will
be able to make himself most useful. There is somebody
wanted to look after all those syces and servants, and it would


184 R07 UB, THE jUGGLER.
be a comfort to us to have some one to talk to occasionally;
besides, all the children are fond of him.”
This sentiment was warmly echoed; and thus, when the deter-
mination at which the men had arrived to cut Bathurst became
known, there was something like a feminine revolution.
“You may do as you like,” Mrs. Doolan said indignantly ;
“ but if you think that we are going to do anything so cruel
and unjust, you are entirely mistaken, I can tell you.”
Mrs. Rintoul was equally emphatic, and Mrs. Hunter quietly,
but with as much decision, protested. “I have always regarded
Mr. Bathurst as a friend,” she said, “and I shall continue to do
so. It is very sad for him that he cannot take part in the
defence, but it is no more fair to blame him than it would be
to blame us, because we, too, are non-combatants.”
Isobel Hannay had taken no part in the first discussion
among the ladies, nor did she say anything now.
“ It is cruel and unjust,” she said to herself, “ but they only
think as I did. I was more cruel and unjust than they, for
there was no talk of danger then. I expressed my contempt of
him because there was a suspicion that he had showed cowardice
ten years ago, while they have seen it shown now when there
is fearful peril. If they are cruel and unjust, what was I ’l ”
Later on the men gathered together at one end of the room,
and talked over the situation.
“ Dr. Wade,” the Major said quietly, “ I shall be obliged if
you will go and ask Mr. Bathurst to join us. He knows the
people round here better than any of us, and his opinion will
be valuable.”
The Doctor, who had several times been in to see Bathurst,
went to his room.
“The Major wants you to join us, Bathurst ; we are having
a talk over things, and he wishes to have your opinion. I had
better tell you that as to yourself the camp is divided into two
parties. On one side are the Major, \Vilson, and myself, and
all the ladies, who take, I need not say, a common-sense view
of the matter, and recognise that you have done all a man could
do to overcome your constitutional nervousness, and that there
is no discredit whatever attached to you personally. The rest
of the men, I am sorry to say, at present take another view of
the case, and are disposed to show you the cold shoulder.”
“That, of course,” Bathurst said quietly; “as to the ladies’
view of it, I know that it is only the result of your good Ofiices,
Doctor.”


RUj’UB, THE YUGGLER. 185
“ Then you will come,” the Doctor said, pleased that Bathurst
seemed less depressed than he had expected.
“ Certainly I will come, Doctor,” Bathurst said, rising; “ the
worst is over now—every one knows that I am a coward—that
is what I have dreaded. There is nothing else for me to be
afraid of, and it is of no use hiding myself.”
“\Ve look quite at home here, Mr. Bathurst, don’t we'l”
Mrs. Doolan said cheerfully, as he passed her; “and I think
we all feel a great deal more comfortable than we did when you
gave us your warning last night; the anticipation is always
worse than the reality."
“Not always, I think, Mrs. Doolan,” he said quietly; “ but
you have certainly made yourselves wonderfully at home,
though your sewing is of a more practical kind than that upon
which you are ordinarily engaged.”
Then he passed on with the Doctor to the other end of the
room. The Major nodded as he came up.
“All right again now, Bathurst, I hope? “’e want your
opinion, for you know, I think, more of the Zemindars in this
part of the country than any of us. Of course, the question
is, will they take part against us '1 ”
“I am afraid they will, Major. I had hoped otherwise ; but
if it be true that the Nana has gone—and as the other part of
the message was correct, I have no doubt this is so also—I am
afraid they will be carried away with the stream.”
“And you think they have guns? ”
“ I have not the least doubt of it ; the number given up was
a mere fraction of those they were said to have possessed.”
“ I had hoped the troops would have marched away after the
lesson we gave them this morning, but, so far as we can make
out, there is no sign of movement in their lines. However,
they may start at daybreak to-morrow.”
“I will go out to see if you like, Major,” Bathurst said
quietly. “I can get native clothes from the servants, and I,
speak the language well enough to pass as a native ; so if you
give me permission, I will go out to the lines and learn what
their intentions are.”
“It would be a very dangerous undertaking,” the Major
said gravely. I
“I have no fear whatever of danger of that kind, Major;
my nerves are steady enough, except when there is a noise of
firearms, and then, as you all saw this morning, I cannot con-
trol them, do what _Iwi_1l. Risks of any other kind I am quite


186 RUJIUB, THE jUGGLER.
prepared to undertake, but in this matter I think the danger
is very slight, the only difliculty being to get through the line
of sentries they have no doubt posted round the house. Once
past them, I think there is practically no risk whatever of their
recognising me when made up as a native. The Doctor has,
no doubt, got some iodine in his surgery, and a coat of that
will bring me to the right colour.”
“ \Vell, if you are ready to undertake it, I will not refuse,”
the Major said. “How would you propose to get out '! ”
“ I noticed yesterday that the branches of one of the trees
in the garden extended beyond the top of the wall. I will climb
up that and lower myself on the other side by a rope ; that is
a very simple matter. The spot is close to the edge of Mr.
Hunter’s compound, and I shall work my way through the
shrubbery till I feel sure I am beyond any sentries who may
be posted there ; the chances are that they will not be thick
anywhere, except opposite the gate. By the way, Captain
Forster, before I go I must thank you for having risked your
life to save mine this morning. I heard from Mrs. Hunter
that it was you and the Doctor who rushed forward and drew
me back.”
“It is not worth talking about,” Captain Forster said care-
lessl y. “You seemed bent on making a target of yourself; and
as the Major’s orders were that every one was to lie down, there
was nothing for it but to remove you.”
Bathurst turned to Dr. Wade. “ Will you superintend my
get-up, Doctor 'I”
“ Certainly,” the Doctor said, with alacrity. “ I will
guarantee that, with the aid of my boy, I will turn you out
so that no one would know you even in broad daylight, to
say nothing of the dark.” g
A quarter of an hour sufficed to metamorphose Bathurst into
an Oude peasant. He did not return to the room, but, accom-
panied by the Doctor, made his way to the tree he had spoken of.
“By the way, you have taken no arms,” the Doctor said
suddenly. I
“They would be useless,Doctor; if I am recognised, I shall be
killed ; if I am not discovered, and the chances are very slight
of my being so, I shall get back safely. By the way, we will
tie some knots on that rope before I let myself down. I used
to be able to climb a rope without them, but I doubt whether
I could do so now.”
“Well, God bless you, lad, and bring you back safely. You


RUjUB, THE FUGGLER. 187
may make as light of it as you will, but it is a dangerous ex-
pedition. However, I am glad you have undertaken it, come
what may, for it has given you the opportunity of showing you
are not afraid of danger when it takes any other form than that
of firearms. There are plenty of men. who would stand up
bravely enough in a fight, who would not like to undertake this
task of going out alone in the dark into the middle of these
bloodthirsty scoundrels. How long do you think you will be 2 ”
“A couple of hours at the outside.”
“Well, at the end of an hour I shall be back here again.
Don’t be longer than you can help, lad, for I shall be very
anxious until you return.”
\Vhen the Doctor re-entered the house, there was a chorus
of questions :
“Has Mr. Bathurst started 1” “Why did you not bring him
in here before he left? We should all have liked to have
said good-bye to him.”
“ Yes, he has gone. I have seen him over the wall; and it
was much better that he should go without any fuss. He Went
off just as quietly and unconcernedly as if he had been going
out for an ordinary evening’s walk. Now I am going up on to
the roof. I don’t say we should hear any hubbub down at the
lines if he were discovered there, but we should certainly hear
a shout if he came across any of the sentries round the house.”
“Has he taken any arms, Doctor?” the Major asked.
“ None whatever, Major. I asked him if he would not take
pistols, but he refused.”
“ \Vell, I don’t understand that,” Captain Forster remarked.
“ If I had gone on such a. business, I would have taken a couple
of revolvers. I am quite ready to take my chance of being
killed fighting, but I should not like to be seized and hacked
to pieces in cold blood. My theory is a man should sell his
life as dearly as he can.” .
“That is the animal instinct, Forster,” the Doctor said
sharply; “though I don’t say that I should not feel the same
myself; but I question whether Bathurst’s is not a higher
type of courage.”
“ \Vell, I don’t aspire to Bathurst’s type of courage, Doctor, ”
Forster said, with a short laugh.
But the Doctor did not answer. He had already turned
away, and was making for the stairs. -
“ May I go with you, Doctor '1 ” Isobel Hannay said, following
him. “ It is very hot down here," '


188 RUleB, THE jUGGLER.
“Yes ; come along, child 3 but there is no time to lose, for
Bathurst must be near where they are likely to have posted
their sentries by this time.”
“ Everything quiet, \Vilson l ” he asked the young subaltern,
who, with another, was on guard on the roof.
“Yes ; we have heard nothing except a few distant shouts
and noises out at the lines. Round here there has been
nothing moving, except that we heard some one go out into
the garden just now.”
“I went out with Bathurst,” the Doctor said. “ He has
gone in the disguise of a native to the Sepoy lines, to find
out what are their intentions.”
“ I heard the talk over it, Doctor. I only came up on watch
a few minutes since. I thought it was most likely him when
I heard the steps.”
“I hope he is beyond the sentries,” the Doctor said. “I
have come up here to listen.”
“ I expect he is through them before this,” Wilson said con-
fidently. “ I wish I could have gone with him ; but of course
it would not have been any good. It is a beautiful night—
isn’t it, Miss Haunay 7—and there is scarcely any dew falling.”
“ Now, you go OH to your post in the corner, \Vilson. Your
instructions are to listen for the slightest sound, and to assure
us against the Sepoys creeping up to the walls. We did not
come up here to distract you from your duties, or to gossip.”
“ There are Richards and another posted somewhere in the
garden,” Wilson said. “Still, I suppose you are right, Doctor ;
but if you, Miss Hannay, have come up to listen, come and
sit in my corner; it is the one nearest to the lines.”
“ You may as well go and sit down, Isobel,’ ’ the Doctor said ;
“that is, if you intend to stay up here long ; ” and they went
across with \Vilson to his post. “ Shall I put one of these sand-
bags for you to sit on? ”
“I would rather stand, thank you;" and they stood for
some time silently watching the fires in the lines.
“They are drawing pretty heavily on the wood stores,” the
Doctor growled ; “ there is a good deal more than the regula-
tion allowance blazing in those fires. I can make out a lot
of figures moving about round them ; no doubt numbers of the
peasants have come in.”
“ Do you think Mr. Bathurst has got beyond the line of sen-
tries‘l " Isobel said, after standing perfectly quiet for some time.
“Oh yes, a long way; probably he was through by the


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 139
time we came up here. They are not likely to post them more
than fifty or sixty yards from the wall; and indeed, it is, as
Bathurst pointed out to me, probable that they are only thick
near the gate. All they want to do is to prevent us slipping
away. I should think that Bathurst must be out near the
lines by this time.”
Isobel moved a few paces away from the others, and again
stood listening.
“ I suppose you do not think that there is any chance of an
attack to-night, Doctor ’I ” Wilson asked, in low tones.
“Not in the least ; the natives are not fond of night work.
I expect they are dividing the spoil and quarrelling over it ;
anyhow, they have had enough of it for today. They may
intend to march away in the morning, or they may have sent
to Cawnpore to ask for orders, or they may have heard from
some of the Zemindars that they are coming in to join them-
that is what Bathurst has gone out to learn ; but anyhow I do
not think they will attack again with their present force.”
“I wish there were a few more of us," \Vilson said, “so
that we could venture on a sortie.”
“So do I, lad; but it is no use thinking about it as it is.
\Ve have to wait; our fate is not in our own hands.”
“And you think matters look bad, Doctor 'l "
“I think they could hardly look worse. Unless the muti-
neers take it into their heads to march away, there is, humanly
speaking, but one chance for us, and that is that Lawrence may
thrash the Sepoys so completely at Lucknow, that he may be
able to send out a. force to bring us in. The chances of that are
next to nothing ; for in addition to a very large Sepoy force, he
has the population of Lucknow—one of the most turbulent in
India—on his hands. Ah, what is that l ”
Two musket shots in quick succession from the Sepoy lines
broke the silence of the evening, and a startled exclamation
burst from the girl standing near them.
The Doctor went over to her.
“ Do you think—do you think,” she said in a low, strained
voice, “that it was Bathurst 'I”
“Not at all. If they detected him, and I really do not see
that there is a chance of their doing so, disguised as he was, they
would have seized him and probably killed him, but there would
be no firing. He has gone unarmed, you know, and would offer
no resistance. Those shots you heard were doubtless the result
of some drunken quarrel over the loot.”


I9° - RUjfUB, THE YUGGLER.
“ Do you really think so, Doctor?”
“I feel quite sure of it. If it had been Forster who had
gone out, and he had been detected, it would have been natural
enough that we should hear the sound of something like a
battle. In 'the first place, he would have defended himself
desperately, and in the next, he might have made his way
through them and escaped ; but, as I said, with Bathurst there
Would be no occasion for their firing.”
“Why didn’t he come in to say good-bye before he went? that
is what I wanted to ask you, Doctor, and why I came up here.
I wanted to have spoken to him, if only for a moment, before he
started. I tried to catch his eye as he went out of the room with
you, but he did not even look at me. It will be so hard if he
never comes back, to know that hewent away without my having
spoken to him again. I did try this morning to tell him that I
was sorry for what I said, but he would not listen to me.”
“ You will have an opportunity of telling him when he comes
back, if you want to, or of showing him so by your manner,
which would be, perhaps, less painful to both of you.”
“I don’t care about pain to myself," the girl said. “I have
been unjust, and deserve it.” -
“I don’t think he considers you unjust. I did, and told you
so. He feels what he considers the disgrace so much, that it
seems to him perfectly natural he should be despised. ”
“Yes, but I want him to see that he is not despised,” she
said quickly. “You don’t understand, Doctor.”
“I do understand perfectly, my dear; at least, I think—I
think I do; I see that you want to put yourself straight with
him, which is very right and proper, especially placed as we all
are; but I would not do or say anything hastily. You have
spoken hastily once, you see, and made a mess of it. I should be
careful how I did it again, unless, of course ” and he stopped.
“Unless what, Doctor?” Isobel asked shyly, after a long
pause. But there was no reply; and looking round, she saw
that her companion had moved quietly away and had joined
Wilson at his post. She stood for a few minutes in the same
attitude, and then moved quietly across the staircase in the
centre of the terrace, and went down to the party below. A
short time later the Doctor followed her, and taking his rifle,
went out into the garden with Captain Doolan, who assisted
him in climbing the tree, and handed his gun up to him. The
Doctor made his way out on the branch to the spot where it
extended beyond the wall, and there sat, straining his eyes


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 191
into the darkness. Half an hour passed, and then he heard a
light footfall. on the sandy soil.
“Is that you, Bathurst 'I” he whispered.
“All right, Doctor ; ’,’ and a minute later Bathurst sat on
the branch beside him.
“Well, what’s your news 7 ”
“Very bad, Doctor; they expect the Rajah Por Sing, who
it seems is the leader of the party in this district, and several
other Zemindars, to be here with guns to-morrow or next day.
The news from Cawnpore was true. The native troops mutinied
and marched away, but were joined by Nana Sahib and his
force, and he persuaded them to return and attack the whites
in their entrenchments at Cawnpore, as they would not be well
received at Delhi unless they had properly accomplished their
share of the work of rootin g out the Feringhees.”
“The infernal scoundrel l” the Doctor exclaimed; “after
pretending for years to be our best friend. I’m disgusted to
think that I have drunk his champagne a dozen times. How-
ever, that makes little difference to us now, your other news is
the most important. \Ve could have resisted the Sepoys for
a month,- but if they bring up guns, there can be but one
ending to it.”
“That is so, Doctor. The only hope I can see is, that they
may find our resistance so obstinate, as to be glad to grant us
terms of surrender.”
“ Yes, there is that chance,” the Doctor agreed ; “ but history
shows there is but little reliance to be placed upon native oaths. ”
Bathurst was silent; his own experience of the natives had
taught him the same lesson.
“It is a poor hope,” he said, after a while; “ but it is the
only one, so far as I can see.”
Not another word was spoken as they descended the tree and
walked across to the house.
“Never mind about changing your things, come straight in.”
“Our scout has returned,” the Doctor said, as heentered
the room. There was a general exclamation of gladness on
the part of the ladies who had not retired.
“I am very glad to see you safe back, Mr. Bathurst,” Mrs.
Hunter said, going up to him and taking his hand. “\Ve
have all been very anxious since you left.”
“The danger was very slight, Mrs. Hunter. I only wish I
had brought you back the news that the native lines were de-
serted and the mutineers in full march for Delhi and Lucknow."


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 193
into the house? There was much angry recrimination and
quarrelling, and many expressed their regret they had not
marched straight to Cawnpore after burning the bungalows.
“ All this was satisfactory ; but I learned that For Sing and
several other Zemindars had already sent in assurances that
they were wholly with them, and would be here, with guns to
batter down the walls, some time to-morrow.”
“That is bad news, indeed," the Major said gravely, when he
had finished. “Of course, when we heard that Nana Sahib had
thrown in his lot with the mutineers, it was probable that many
of the landowners would go the same way ; but if the Sepoys .
had marched off, they might not have attacked us on their
own account. Now we know that the Sepoys are going to stay,
and that they will have guns, it alters our position altogether.”
There was a murmur of assent.
“I should tell you before you talk the matter over further,”
Bathurst went on, “that during the last hour some hundreds
of peasants have taken up their posts round the house in addi-
tion to the Sepoy sentries. I came back with one party about
a hundred strong. They are posted a couple of hundred yards
or so in front of the gate. I slipped away from them in the
dark and made my way here. ”
“\Vell, gentlemen, what do you think we had better do?"
the Major said ; “we are all in the same boat, and I should like
to have your opinions. \Ve may defend this house successfully
for days—possibly we may even tire them out-but on the other
hand they mayprove too strong for us. If the wall were breached
we could hardly hope to defend it, and, indeed, if they con—
structed plenty of ladders they could scale it at night in a score
of places. \Ve must therefore regard the house as our citadel,
close up the lower windows and doors with sandbags, and
defend it to the last. Still, if they are determined, the look-
out is not a very bright one.”
“ I am in favour of our cutting our way out, Major,” Captain
Forster said ; “if we are cooped up here, we must, as you say,
in the long run be beaten.”
“ That would be all very well, Captain Forster, if we were all
men,” Mr. Hunter said. “There are sixteen of us, and there
are in all eighteen horses, for I and Farquharson have two each ;
but there are eight women and fourteen children; so all the
horses would have to carry double. We certainly could not
hope to escape from them with our horses so laden; and if'
they came up with us, what fighting could we do with women
N


194 RUj’ UB, THE jUGGLER.
behind our saddles? Moreover, we certainly could not leave the
servants, who have been true to us, to the mercy of the Sepoys.”
“Besides, where could we go?” the Doctor asked. “The
garrison at Cawnpore, we know, are besieged by overwhelming
numbers. We do not know much as to the position at Lucknow,
but certainly the Europeans are immensely outnumbered there,
and I think we may assume that they are also besieged. It is
a. very long distance either to Agra or to Allahabad ; and with
the whole country up in arms against us, and the cavalry here
at our heels, the prospect seems absolutely hopeless. What do
you think, Doolan? You and Rintoul have your wives here, and
you have children. I consider that the question concerns you
married men more than us." ‘
“It is a case of the frying-pan and the fire, as far as I can see,
Doctor. At any rate, here we have got walls to fight behind,
and food for weeks, and plenty of ammunition. I am for selling
our lives as dearly as we can here rather than go outside to be
chased like jackals.”
“ I agree with you, Doolan,” Captain Bintoul said. “ Here we
may be able to make terms with them, but once outside the
walls, we should be at the scoundrcls’ mercy. If it were not
for the women and children, I should agree entirely with Forster
that our best plan would be to throw open our gates and make
a dash for it, keeping together as long as we could, and then, if
necessary, separating and trying to make our way down to Agra
or Allahabad as best we could; but with ladies, that does not
seem to be possible.”
The opinion of the married civilians was entirely in accord
with that of Mr. Hunter.
“ But What hope is there of defending this place in the long
run 'I ” Captain Forster said. “If I saw any chance at all, I
should be quite willing to wait ; but I would infinitely rather
sally out at once and go for them and be killed, than wait here
day after day and perhaps week after week, seeing one’s fate
drawing nearer inch by inch. \Vhat do you say, Bathurst?
We haven’t had your opinion yet.”
“I do not think that the defence is so hopeless as you sup-
pose, although I admit that the chances are greatly against us,"
Bathurst said quietly. “I think there is a hope of tiring the
natives out. The Sepoys know well enough there can be no
great amount of loot here, while they think that were they at
Cawnpore, at Lucknow, or still more at Delhi, their chances of
plunder would be much greater. Moreover, I think that men


RUj‘UB, THE' j‘UGGLER. 19;
in their position, having offended, as it were, without hope of
pardon, would naturally desire to flock together. There is
comfort and encouragement in numbers. Therefore, I am sure
they will very speedily become impatient if they do not meet
with success, and would be inclined to grant terms rather than
waste time here.
“ It is the same thing with the native gentry. They will want
to be off to Lucknow or Delhi, Where they will know more how
things are going, and where, no doubt, they reckon upon obtain-
ing posts of importance and increased possessions, under the new
order of things. Therefore, I think, they, as well as the Sepoys,
are likely, if they find the task longer and more diflicult than
they expect, to be ready to grant terms I have no great faith
in native oaths. Still they might be kept.
“Captain Forster-’s proposal I regard as altogether imprac-
ticable. We are something like two hundred and fifty miles
from the nearest British post where we could hope to find
refuge, and with the horses carrying double, the troopers at our
heels directly we start, and the country hostile, I see no chance
whatever, not a vestige of one, of our getting safely away.
“But there is a third alternative by which some might
escape: it is, that we should make our way out on foot, break
up into parties of two’s and three’s ; steal or fight our way
through the sentries, and then for each party to shift for itself,
making its way as best it can, travelling by night and lying
up in woods or plantations by day; getting food at times from
friendly natives, and subsisting, for the most part, upon what
might be gathered in the fields. In that way some might escape,
but the suffering and hardships of the women and children
would be terrible.”
“I agree with you,” Mr. Hunter said ; “such a journey would
be frightful to contemplate, and I don’t think, in our case, that
my wife could possibly perform such a journey ; still, some
might do so. At any rate, I think the chances are better
than they would be were we to ride out in a body. I should
suggest, Major, when the crisis seems to be approaching—that
is, when it is clear that we can’t defen'd ourselves much longer
-—it would be fair that each should be at liberty to try to get
out and make down the country.”
“ Certainly,” the Major agreed ; “ we are in a position of men
on board a sinking ship with the boats gone; we should try
to the end to save the ship, but when all hope of doing that
is over, each may try to get to shore as be best can. As long as


196 RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER.
the house can be defended, all must remain and bear their
share in the struggle, but when we decide that it is but a ques-
tion of hours, all who choose will be at liberty to try to escape.”
“It will be vastly more difficult then than now,” Captain
Forster said; “Bathurst made his way out to-night without
difficulty, but they will be a great deal more vigilant when
they know we cannot hold out much longer. I don’t see how it
would be possible for women and children to get through them.”
“ \Ve might then adopt your scheme, to a certain extent,
Forster,” Major Hannay said. “We could mount, sally out sud-
denly, break through their pickets, and as soon as we are beyond
them scatter ; those who like can try to make their way down
on horseback, those who prei'er it, try to do so on foot. That
would at least give us an alternative should the siege be pushed
on to the last, and we find ourselves unable to make terms.”
There was general assent to the Major’s proposal, which
seemed to offer better chances than any. There was the hope
that the mutineers might tire of the siege and march away ;
that if they pressed it, terms might be at last obtained from
them, and that, failing everything else, the garrison might yet
make their way down country.
“As there is evidentlyno chance of an attack during the
night,” the Major said, “we will divide into two watches and
relieve each other every four hours ; that will give two as look-
outs on the roof and six in the enclosure. As you are senior
officer next to myself, Doolan, you will take charge of one watch ;
I shall myself take charge of the other. Forster and \Vilson
be with me, Rintoul and Richards with you. Mr. Hardy, will
you and the other gentlemen divide your numbers into two
watches? Dr. \Vade counts as a combatant until his hospital
begins to fill.”
“ I fancy he may be counted as a combatant all through,"
the Doctor muttered.
“To-morrow morning,” the Major went on, “we will con-
tinue the work of filling sandbags. There are still a large
number of empty bags on hand. We shall want them for all the
lower windows and doors, and the more there are of them the
better j, and we must also keep a supply in readiness to make a
retrenchment if they should breach the wall. Now, Mr. Hunter,
as soon as you have made out your list my watch can go on duty,
and I should advise the others to turn in without delay.”
When the ladies were informed that half the men were going
on watch, Mrs. Doolan said, “I have an amendment to propose,


RUj'UB, THE jUGGLER. 197
Major. Women’s ears are just as keen as men's, and I propose
that we supply the sentries on the roof. Iwill volunteer for one. ”
The whole of the ladies at once volunteered.
“ There is no occasion for so many,” Mrs. Doolan said ; “ and
I propose that to-night, at any rate, I should take the first watch
with one of the Miss Hunters, and that Miss Hannay and the
other should take the second. That will leave all the gentlemen
available for the watch in the enclosure.”
The proposal was agreed to, and in a short time the first
watch had taken their station, and the rest of the garrison lay
down to rest.
The night passed off quietly. The first work at which the
Major set the garrison in the morning was to form six wooden
stages against the wall. One by the gate, one against the wall
at the other end, and two at each of the long sides of the en-
closure. They were twelve feet in height, which enabled those
upon them to stand head and shoulders above the level of the
wall. '
\Vhen these were completed the whole of the garrison, includ-
ing the ladies and native servants, again set to work filling sand-
bags with earth. As fast as they were finished they were carried
in and piled two deep against the lower windows, and three deep
against the doors, only one small door being left undefended, so
as to allow a passage inand out of the house. Bags were piled
in readiness for closing this also in case of necessity.
Mrs. Rintoul and another ladyv had volunteered for a third
watch on the roof, so that each watch would go on duty once
every twelve hours. The whole of the men, therefore, were
available for work below.
A scattered fire was opened at the house soon after daybreak,
and was kept up without intermission from bushes and other
cover ; but the watchers on the roof, seated behind the sandbags
at opposite angles, were well under shelter, peering out occa-
sionally through the crevices between the bags to see that no
general movement was taking place among the enemy.
About mid-day there was a desultory discharge of firearms
from the native lines; and the Major, on ascending to the roof,
saw a procession of elephants and men approaching the camp.
“I expect there are guns there,” he muttered, “and they
are going to begin in earnest. Ladies, you are relieved of
duty at present. I expect we shall be hearing from those
fellows soon, and we must have some one up here who can talk
back to them.”


198 RquB, THE j’UGGLER.
Accordingly the Doctor and Mr. Farquharson, who was the
best shot among the civilians, took the places of the ladies on
the roof. Half an hour later the Major went up again.
“They have four cannon,” the Doctor said. “There they
are, on that slight rise to the left of the lines. I should fancy
they are about eight hundred yards away. Do you see, there
is a crowd gathering behind them? Our rifles will carry that
distance easily enough, I think. You might as well let us have
three or four more up here. The two lads are both fair shots,
and Hunter was considered a good shikari some years ago.
\Ve can drive their cannon ofi that rise; the farther we make
them take up their post the better, but even at that distance
their shooting will be wild. The guns are no doubt old ones,
and, as likely as not, the shot won’t fit. At any rate, though
they may trouble us, they will do no serious harm till they
establish a battery at pretty close quarters.”
The Major went down, and the two subalterns and Mr.
Hunter joined the Doctor on the roof.
Ten minutes later the boom of four guns in quick succession
was heard, and the party below stopped for a. moment at their
work as they heard the sound of shot rushing through the air
overhead; then came five shots in answer from the parapet.
Again and again the rifles spoke out, and then the Doctor
shouted down to those in the courtyard, “They have had
enough of it already, and are bringing up the elephants to
move the cannon back. Now, boys,” he said to the subal-
terns, “an elephant is an easier mark than a tiger; aim care-
fully, and blaze away as quickly as you like.”
For five minutes a rapid fire was kept up; then \Vilson
went below.
“ The Doctor asked me to tell you, sir,” he said to the Major,
“that the guns have been removed. There has been great con-
fusion among the natives, and we can see with our glasses eight
or ten bodies left on the ground. One of the elephants turned
and went OK at full speed among the crowd, and we fancy
some of the others were hit. There was great trouble in
getting them to come up to the guns. The Doctor says it is
all over for the present.”
Two other large parties with elephants were seen to come up
to the native lines in the course of the afternoon. The de-
fenders of the roof had now turned their attention to their
foes in the gardens around, and the fire thence was gradually
suppressed, until by evening everything was quiet.


zoo RUJUB, THE YUGGLER.
“I suppose I have not had time to feel ill, Doctor,” Mrs.
Rintoul said, with a slight smile; “all this has been a sort
of tonic.”
“And a very useful one, Mrs. Rintoul. We are all of us
the better for a little stirring up sometimes.”
Captain Forster had as usual secured a place next to Isobel
Hannay. He had been near her all day, carrying the bags as
he filled them to her to sew up. Bathurst was sitting at the
other end of the table, joining but little in the conversation.
“ I thought Bathurst was going to faint again when the firing
began, Miss Hannay,” Captain Forster said, in a low voice.
“ It was quite funny to see him give a little start each shot that
was fired, and his face was as white as my jacket. I never saw
such a nervous fellow.”
“You know he cannot help it, Captain Forster,” Isobel
said indignantly. “I don’t think it is right to make fun of
him for what is a great misfortune.”
“ I am not making fun of him, Miss Hannay. I am pity-
ing him. "
“It did not sound like it,” Isobel said. “ I don’t think you
can understand it, Captain Forster; it must be terrible to be
like tha .”
“I quite agree with you there. I know I should drown
myself or put a bullet through my head if I could not show
ordinary courage with a lot of ladies going on working quietly
round me.”
“ You must remember that Mr. Bathurst showed plenty of
courage in going out among the mutineers last night.”
“Yes, he did that very well 3 but, you see, he talks the lan-
guage so thoroughly that, as he said himself, there was very
little risk in it.”
“ I don’t like you to talk so, Captain Forster,” Isobel said
quietly. “I do not see much of Mr. Bathurst. I have not
spoken to him half a dozen times in the last month; but both
my uncle and Dr. Wade have a high opinion of him, and do
not consider that he should be personally blamed for being
nervous under fire. I feel very sorry for him, and would much
rather that you did not make remarks like that about him.
We have all our weak points, and no doubt many of them are
a. good deal worse than a mere want of nerve.”
“Your commands shall be obeyed, Miss Hannay. I did not
know that Bathurst was a protégé of the Major’s as well as of the
estimable Doctor, or I would have said nothing against him.”


202 Rvyus, THE jUGGLER.
them up. The rest of you had better get in the corner
and stoop down behind the sandbags; you can lay your rifles
on them, so as to be able to fire as soon as you have lit the
second rocket.”
The Doctor soon came up with the rockets ;' he had made
three dozen the week before, and a number of blue lights, for -
the special purpose of detecting any movement that the enemy
might make at night.
“ I will fire them myself,” he said, as Wilson ofl'ered to take
them. “I have had charge of the fireworks in a score of féles
and that sort of thing, and am a pretty good hand at it.
There, we will lcan them against the sandbags. That is about
it. Now, are you all ready, Major?”
“ All ready I” replied the Major.
The Doctor placed the end of his lighted cheroot against
the touch-paper, there was a momentary pause, then a rushing
sound, and the rocket soared high in the air, and then burst,
throwing out four or five white fireballs, which lit up clearly
the spot they were watching.
“There they are,” the Major exclaimed ; “ just to the right
of the bungalow; there are scores of them."
The rifles, both from the terrace and the platforms below,
cracked out in rapid succession, and another rocket flew up into
the air and burst. Before its light had faded out, each of the
defenders had fired his four shots. Shouts and cries from the
direction in which they fired showed that many of the bullets
had told, whilst almost immediately a. sharp fire broke out
from the bushes round them. ,
“Don’t mind the fellows in the shrubs,” the Major said,
“but keep up your fire on the battery. We know its exact
position now, though we cannot actually make them out."
“Let them wait while I go down and get a bit of phos-
phorus,” the Doctor said. “I have some in the surgery.
They will only throw away their fire in the dark without it.”
He soon returned, and when all the fore and back sights
had been rubbed by the phosphorus the firing recommenced,
and the Doctor sent Wilson down With the phosphorus to the
men on the platforms facing the threatened point.
Bathurst was returning, after having given the message to
Captain Doolan, when Mrs. Hunter met him in the passage.
She put her hand kindly on his shoulder.
“Now, Mr. Bathurst, if you will take my advice you will
remain quietly here. The Doctor tells me they are going to


RU] UB, THE yUGGLER. 203
open fire, and it is not the least use your going there exposing
yourself to be shot when you know that you will be of no use.
You showed us yesterday that you could be of use in other
ways, and I have no doubt you will have opportunities of
doing so again. I can assure you none of us will think any
the worse of you for not being able to struggle against a
nervous affection that gives you infinite pain. If they were
attacking it would be different ; I know you would be wanting
to take your share then.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hunter,” he said, “but I must go up.
I grant that I shall be of no use, but at least I will take
any chance that the others run of being shot. A man does not
flinch from a painful operation, and whatever the pain, it has to
be faced. I may get used to it in time ; but whether I do or not
I must go through it, though I do not say it doesn’t hurt.”
At this moment the rattle of musketry broke out above.
Bathurst gave a violent start, and a low cry as of pain; then
be rushed past Mrs. Hunter and up the staircase to the terrace,
when he staggered rather than walked forward to the parapet,
and threw himself down beside two figures, who were in the
act of firing.
“Is that you, Bathurst ? ” the Major’s voice asked. “ Mind,
man, don’t lift your head above the sandbags in that way.
There, you had best lie quiet; the natives have no idea of
attacking, and it is of no use throwing away ammunition by
firing unless your hand is steady.”
But Bathurst did not hear, and remained with his head
above the line of sandbags until the Major put his hand on his
shoulder and forced him down. He might have put his hand
over his ears to deaden the sound—for in the darkness no one
would have seen the action—but he would not do so, but with
clenched teeth and quivering nerve lay there until the Major
said, “I fancy we have stopped them working. Now, Doctor,
,do you, Hunter, Bathurst, and Farquharson go and lie down
for four hours, when I will send for you to take our places.
Before you lie down, will you tell Doolan to send half his party
in. Of coilrse you will lie down in your clothes, ready to fall
in at your posts at a moment’s notice. ”
“Let me send another rocket up first, Major, to see what
they are doing. We can sleep to-morrow in the daytime ; they
won’t dare to work under our fire then. Now, get ready,
gentlemen, and don’t throw away a shot, if they are still
working there.”


204 RU] UB, THE YUGGLER.
The light of the rocket showed that there were now no
natives at the spot where they had been seen at work.
“I thought it would be too hot for them, Major, at such
close quarters as these. We must have played the mischief
with them.”
“ All the better, Doctor; we will send a few shots there
occasionally to show them we have not forgotten them. But
the principal thing will be to keep our ears open to see that
they don’t bring up ladders and try a rush.
“I think there is no fear of that to-night, Major. They
would not have set to work at the battery if they had any idea
of trying to scale the wall with ladders. That will come later
on ; but I don’t think you will be troubled any more to-night,
except by these fellows firing away from the bushes, and I
should think they would get tired of wasting their ammunition
soon. It is fortunate we brought all the spare ammunition
in here. ”
“ Yes, they only had ten rounds of ball cartridge, and that
must be nearly used up by this time. They will have to make
up their cartridges in future, and cast their bullets, unless
they can get a supply from some of the other mutineers.”
“Well, you will send for us in four hours, Major 'l ”
“ You need not be afraid of my forgetting.”
Dawn was just breaking when the relief were called up ; the
firing had died away, and all was quiet.
“ You will take command here, Rintoul,” the Major said. “ I
should keep Farquharson up here, if I were you, and leave the
Doctor and Bathurst to look after things in general. I think,
Doctor, it would be as well if we appointed Bathurst in charge
of the general arrangements of the house. We have a good
amount of stores, but the servants will waste them if they are
not looked after. I should put them on rations, Bathurst ; and
there might be regular rations of things served out for us too;
then it would fall in your province to see that the syces water
and feed the horses. You will examine the well regularly, and
note whether there is any change in the look of the water. I
think you will find plenty to do.”
“Thank you, Major,” Bathurst said. “I appreciate your
kindness, and for the present, at any rate, will gladly under-
take the work of looking after the stores and servants; but
there is one thing I have been thinking of, and which I should
like to speak to you about at once, if you could spare a minute
or two before you turn in."


RUj’UB, THE j‘UGGLER. :05
“What is that, Bathurst 'l ”
“ I think that we are agreed, Major, that though we may
hold this place for a time, sooner or later we must either sur-
render or the place be carried by storm.”
Major Hannay nodded.
“That is what it must come to, Bathurst. If they will at
last grant us terms, well and good ,- if not, we must either try
to escape or die fighting.”
“It is about the escape I have been thinking, Major; as our
position grows more and more desperate, they will close round
us, and although we might have possibly got through last night,
our chances of doing so when they have once broken into the
enclosure and begin to attack the house itself are very slight.
A few of us who can speak the language well might possibly
in disguise get away, but it would be impossible for the bulk
of us to do so.”
“I quite see that, Bathurst.” .
“ My proposal is, Major, that we should begin at once to mine ;
that is, to drive a gallery from the cellar, and to carry it on
steadily as far as we can. I should say that we have ten days
or a fortnight before us before matters get to an extremity, and
in that time we ought to be able to get, working night and day,
from fifty to a hundred yards beyond the wall, aiming at a clump
of bushes. There is a large one in Farquharson’s compound,
about a hundred yards ofi". Then, when things get to the worst,
we can work upwards, and come out on a dark night. “To might
leave a long fuse burning in the magazine, so that there should
be an explosion an hour or two after we had left. There is
enough powder there to bring the house down, and the Sepoys
might suppose that we had all been buried in the ruins.”
“I think the idea is a very good one, Bathurst. What do
you think, Doctor 1 ”
“Capital,” the Doctor said. “It is a light sandy soil, and
we should be able to get through it at a good rate. How
many can work together do you think, Bathurst? ”
“ I should say two of us in each shift, to drive, and, if neces-
sary, prop the roof, with some of the natives to carry out the
earth. If we have three shifts, each shift would go on twice in
the twenty-four hours ; that would be four hours on and eight
hours off.”
“Will you take charge of the operation, Bathurst? ”
“With pleasure, Major.”-
“Very well, then, You shall have with you Wilson and


206 RthUB, THE jUGGLER.
Richards and the three youngest of the civilians, Saunderson,
Austin, and Herbert. You six will be relieved from other
duty except when the enemy threaten an attack. I will put
down Saunderson and Austin together. Which of the others
would you like to have with you 2 ”
“ I will take \Vilson, sir.”
“Very well, then, Richards and Herbert will make the third
party. After breakfast we can pick out the twelve strongestof
the natives. I will tell them that they have to work, but that
they will be each paid half a rupee a day in addition to their
ordinary wages. Then you will give a general supervision to
the work, Bathurst, in addition to your own share in it ’I ”
“ Certainly, Major, I will take general charge of it.”
So at breakfast the Major explained the plan agreed upon.
The five men chosen at once expressed their willingness to
undertake the work, and the offer of half a rupee extra a day
was sufficient to induce twelve of the servants to volunteer for
it. The Major went down to the cellars and fixed upon the
spot at which the work should begin ,' and Bathurst and \Vilson,
taking some of the intrenching tools from the storeroom,
began to break through the wall without delay.
“ I like this,” \Vilson said. “It is a thousand times better
than sitting up there waiting till they choose to make an
attack. How wide shall we make it '1 ”
“As narrow as we can for one to pass along at a. time,”
Bathurst said. “The narrower it is, the less trouble we shall
have with the roof. ”
“But only one will be able to work at a time in that case.”
“That will be quite enough,” Bathurst said. “It will be hot
work and hard. We will relieve each other every five minutes
or so. ”
A very short time sufi‘iced to break through the wall.
“Thank goodness, it is earth,” Wilson said, thrusting a
crowbar through the opening as soon as it was made.
“I had no fear of its being rock, \Vilson. If it had been,
they would not have taken the trouble to have walled the sides
of the cellar. The soil is very deep all over here. The natives
have to line their wells thirty or forty feet down.”
The enemy were quiet all day, but the garrison thought it
likely that, warned by the lesson of the night before, they were
erecting a battery some distance farther back, masked by the
trees, and that until it was ready to open fire they would know
nothing about it.


208 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
destroying his chances, and that if it were not for me he would
get away. That would be terrible. I don’t know whether we ‘
were wise to stay here instead of trying to escape at once ; but
as uncle and Mr. Hunter and the others all thought it wiser to
stay, I have no doubt it was ; but I am quite sure that it could
not have been a good plan to go off like that on horseback.’ ’
Another day passed quietly, and then during the night the
watch heard the sounds of blows with axes, and of falling trees.
“ They are clearing the ground in front of their battery,” the
Major, who was on the watch with his party, said,- “it will begin
in earnest to-morrow morning. The sound came from ust where
we expected. It is about in the same line as where they made
their first attempt, but a hundred yards or so further back.”
At daylight they saw that the trees and bushes had been
levelled, and a battery, with embrasures for six guns, erected at
a distance of about four hundred yards from the house. More '
sandbags were at once brought up from below, and the parapet,
on the side facing the battery, raised two feet and doubled in
thickness. The garrison were not disturbed while so engaged.
“Why the deuce don’t the fellows begin '1 ” Captain Forster
said impatiently, as he stood looking over the parapet when
the work was finished.
“I expect'they are waiting for the Rajah and some of the
principal Zemindars to come down,” replied the Major; “the
guns are theirs, you see, and will most likely be worked by their
own followers. No doubt they think they ,Will knock the place
to pieces in a few minutes. Listen ! there is music; they are
coming in grand state. Rintoul, will you tell the workers in
the mine to come up. By the way, who are at work now ’1 "
“ Bathurst and \Vilson, sir.”
“Then tell Wilson to come up, and request Bathurst to go on
with the gallery. Tell him I want that pushed forward as fast
as possible, and that one gun will not make much difference
here. Request the ladies and children to go down into the
storeroom for the present. I don’t think the balls will go
through the wall, but it is as well to be on the safe side.”
Captain Rintoul delivered his message to the ladies. They
had already heard that the battery had been unmasked and was
ready to open fire, and lamps had been placed in the storeroom in
readiness for them. There were pale faces among them,but their
thoughts were of those on the roof rather than of themselves.
Mrs. Hunter took up the Bible she had been reading, and
said “Tell them, Captain Rintoul, we shall be praying for


, RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 209
them.” The ladies went into the room that served as a nur-
sery, and with the ayahs and other female servants carried
the children down into the storeroom.
“I would much rather be up there,” Isobel said to Mrs.
Doolan ; “we could load the muskets for them, and I don’t think
it would be anything like so bad if we could see what was going
on as being cooped up below fancying the worst all the time."
“I quite agree with you, but men never will get to under-
stand women. Perhaps before we are done they will recognise
the fact that we are no more afraid than they are.”
The music was heard approaching along the road where the
bungalows had stood. Presently a number of flags were raised
in the battery amid a great beating of drums. On the previous
day a flagstaif had been erected on the roof, and a Union Jack
was run up in answer to the enemy’s demonstration.
“ A cheer for the old flag, lads,” the Major said ; and a hearty
cheer broke from the little party on the roof, where, with the ex-
ception of Bathurst, all the garrison were assembled. The cheer
Was answered by a yell from the natives not only in the battery,
but from the gardens and enclosures round the house.
“ Pay no attention to the fellows in the gardens,” the Major
said ; “fire at their guns—they must expose themselves to load.”
The men were kneeling behind the parapet, where the sand-
bags had been so arranged that they could see through between
those on the upper line, and thus fire without raising their
heads above it. - ~
“ Shall we wait for them or fire first, Major?” the Doctor
asked.
“ I expect the guns are loaded and laid, Doctor; but if you
see a head looking along them, by all means take a shot at it.
I wish we could see down into the battery itself, but it is too
high for that.”
The Doctor lay looking along his rifle. Presently he fired,
and as if it had been the signal five cannon boomed out almost
at the same moment, the other being fired a. quarter of a
minute later. Three of the shot struck the house below the
parapet, the others went overhead.
“ I hit my man,” the Doctor said, as he thrust another rifle
through the loophole. “ Now, we will see if we can keep them
from loading.” '
Simultaneously with the roar of the cannon a rattle of
musketry broke out on three sides of the house, and a hail of
bullets whistled over the heads of the defenders, who opened
0


210 RUj’UB, THE YUGGLER.
a steady fire at the embrasures of the guns. These had been
run in, and the natives could be seen loading them. The
Major examined the work through a pair of field-glasses.
“You are doing well,” he said presently 5 “ I have seen
several of them fall, and there is a lot of confusion among
them; they will soon get tired of that game.”
Slowly and irregularly the guns were run out again, and
the fire of the defenders was redoubled to prevent them from
taking aim. Only one shot hit the house this time, the others all
going overhead. The fire of the enemy became slower and more
irregular, and at the end of an hour ceased almost entirely.
“ Doctor,” the Major said, “I will get you and Farquharson
to turn your attention to some fellows there are in that high
tree over there. They command us completely, and many of
their bullets have struck on the terrace behind us. It would
not be safe to move across to the stairs now. I think we have
pretty well silenced the battery for the present. Here are
my glasses. \Vith them you can easily make out the fellows
among the leaves."
“ I see them,” the Doctor said, handing the glasses to
Farquharson ; “we will soon get them out of that. Now,
Farquharson, you take that fellow out on the lower branch
to the right; I will take the one close to the trunk on the
same branch .”
Laying their rifles On the upper row of sandbags, the two
men took a steady aim. They fired almost together, and two
bodies were seen to fall from the tree.
“Well shot 1” the Major exclaimed. “There are something
like a dozen of them up there; but they will soon clear out
if you keep that up.”
“They are not more than two hundred yards away,” the
Doctor said, “and firing from a rest we certainly ought not to
miss them at that distance. Give me the glasses again.”
A similar success attended the next two shots, and then a
number of figures were seen hastily climbing down.
“Give them a volley, gentlemen,” the Major said.
A dozen guns were fired and three more men dropped, and
an angry yell from the natives answered the shout of triumph
from the garrison.
“ Will you go down, Mr. Hunter, and tell the ladies that we
have silenced the guns for the present, and that no one has
received a scratch? Now, let us see what damage their balls
have effected.”


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 211
This was found to be trifling. The stonework of the house
was strong, and the guns were light. The stonework of one of
the windows was broken, and two or three stones in the wall
cracked. Ono ball had entered a window, torn its way through
two inner walls, and lay against the back wall.
“ It is a four-pound ball,” the Major said, taking it up. “I
fancy the guns are seven-pounders. They have evidently no
balls to fit, which accounts for the badness of their firing, and
the little damage they did: with so much windage the balls
can have had but small velocity. \Vell, that is a satisfactory
beginning, gentlemen ; they will take a long time to knock the
place about our ears at this rate. Now we will see if we cannot
clear them out of the gardens. Captain Doolan, will you take
the glasses and watch the battery; if you see any movement
about the guns, the fire will be reopened at once; until then,
all will devote their attention to those fellows among the bushes :
it is important to teach them that they are not safe there, for
a chance ball might come in between the sandbags. Each of
you pick out a particular bush, and watch it till you see the exact
position in which any one firing from it must be in, and then try
to silence him. Don’t throw away a shot if you can help it.
We have a good stock of ammunition, but it is as well not to
waste it. I will leave you in command at present, Doolan.”
Major Hannay then went down to the storeroom.
“ I have come to relieve you from your confinement, ladies,”
he said. “I am glad to say that we find their balls will not
penetrate the walls of the house alone, and there is therefore
no fear whatever of their passing through them and the garden
wall together ; therefore, as long as the wall is in tact, there is no
reason whatever why you should not remain on the floor above.”
There was a general exclamation of pleasure.
“That will be vastly better, uncle,” Isobel said ; “it is hate-
ful being hidden away down here when we have nothing to do
but to listen to the firing; we don’t see why some of us should
not go up on the terrace to load the rifles for you.”
“Not at present, Isobel; we are not pressed yet. When it
comes to a real attack it will be time to consider about that.
I don’t think any of us would shoot straighter if there were
women up among us in danger.”
“ I don’t at all see why it should be worse our being in
danger than for you men, Major,” Mrs. Doolan said ; “we have
just as much at stake and more; and I warn you I shall orga-
nise a female mutiny if we are not allowed to help.”


212 RU] UB, THE quoLER.
The Major laughed.
“ Well, Mrs. Doolan, I shall have to convert this storeroom
into a prison, and all who defy my authority will be immured
here, so now you know the consequence of disobedience. ”
“And has no one been hurt with all that firing, Major
Hannay,” Mary Hunter asked.
“A good many people have been hurt, Miss Hunter, but no
one on our side. I fancy we must have made it very hot for
those at the guns, and the Doctor and Mr. Farquharson have
been teaching them not to climb trees. At present that firing
you hear is against those who are hiding in the gardens.”
An hour later the firing ceased altogether, the natives find-
ing the fire of the defenders so deadly, that they no longer
dared, by discharging a rifle, to show where they were hiding.
They had drawn off from the more distant clumps and bushes,
but dared not try and crawl from those nearer the house until
after nightfall.
The next morning it was found that during the night the
enemy had closed up their embrasures, leaving only openings
sufficiently large for the muzzles of the guns to be thrust through,
and soon after daybreak they renewed their fire. The Doctor
and Mr. Farquharson alone remained on the roof, and through-
out the day they kept up a steady fire at these openings when-
ever the guns were withdrawn. Several of the sandbags were
knocked off the parapet during the course of the day, and a few
shot found their way through the walls of the upper storey,
but beyond this no damage was done. The mining was kept
up with great vigour, and the gallery advanced rapidly, the
servants finding it very hard work to remove the earth as fast
as the miners brought it down.
Captain Forster offered to go out with three others at night
to try and get into the battery and spike the guns, but Major
Hannay would not permit the attempt to be made.
“We know they have several other guns,” he said, “and
the risk would be altogether too great, for there would be
practically no chance of your getting back and being drawn
up over the wall before you were overtaken, even if you suc-
ceeded in spiking the guns. There are probably a hundred
men sleeping in the battery, and it is likely they would
have sentries out in front of it. The loss of four men would
seriously weaken the garrison.”
The next morning another battery to the left was unmasked,
and on the following day three guns were planted, under cover,


Ruyuia, THE j‘UGGLER. 213
so as to play against the gate. The first battery now concen-
trated its fire upon the outer wall, the new battery played
upon the upper part of the house, and the three guns kept up
a steady fire at the gate.
There was little rest for the besieged now. It was a con-
stant duel between their rifles and the guns, varied by their
occasionally turning their attention to men who climbed trees,
or who, from the roofs of some buildings still standing, endea-
voured to keep down their fire. ,
\Vilson had been released from his labours in the gallery,
Bathurst undertaking to get down the earth single-handed as
fast as the servants could remove it.
“I never saw such a fellow to work, Miss Hannay,” Wilson
said one day, when he was off duty, and happened to find her
working alone at some bandages. “I know you don’t like him,
but he is a first—rate fellow if there ever was one. It is unlucky
for him being so nervous at the guns ; but that is no fault of his
after all, and I am sure in other things he is as cool as possible.
Yesterday I was standing close to him, shoving the earth back
to the men as he got it down. Suddenly he shouted, ‘Run,
\Vilson, the roof is coming down 1’ I could not help bolting
a few yards, for the earth came pattering down as he spoke ;
then I looked round and saw him standing there, by the
light of the lamp, like those figures you see holding up
pillars; I forget what they call them—catydigs, or something
of that sort.”
“ Caryatides,” Isobel put in.
“Yes, that is the name. Some timber had given way above
him, and he was holding it up with his arms. I should say that
there must have been half a ton of it, and he said, as quietly as
possible, ‘Get two of those short poles, \Vilson, and put up
one on each side of me. I can hold it a bit, but don’t be longer
than you can help about it.’ I managed to shove up the timber,
so that he could slip out before it came down. It would have
crushed us both to a certainty if he had not held it up.”
“ \Vhy do you say, you know I don’t like Mr. Bathurst 2”
“I don’t exactly know, Miss Hannay, but I have noticed you
are the only lady who does not chat with him. I don’t think
I have seen you speak to him since we have come in here. I
am sorry, because I like him very much, and I don’t care for
Forster at all.”
“ What has Captain Forster to do with it 2 ” Isobel asked,
somewhat indignantly.


214. RUj'UB, THE YUGGLER.
“ Oh, nothing at all, Miss Hannay, only, you know, Bathurst
used to be a good deal at the Major’s before Forster came, and
then after that I never met him there except on that evening
before he came in here. Now you know, Miss Hannay,” he
went on earnestly, “what I think about you. I have not been
such an ass as to suppose I ever had a chance, though you know
I would lay down my life for you willingly ; but I did not seem
to mind Bathurst. I know he is an awfully good fellow, and
would have made you very happy ; but I don’t feel like that
with Forster. There is nothing in the world that I should like
better than to punch his head ; and when I see that a fellow like
that has cut Bathurst out altogether, it makes me so savage
sometimes that I have to go and smoke a pipe outside so as
not to break out and have a row with him.”
“You ought not to talk so, Mr. Wilson. It is very wrong.
You have no right to say that any one has cut any one else out
as far as I am concerned. I know you are all fond of me in a
brotherly sort of way, and I like you very much ; but that gives
you no right to say such things about other people. Mr. Bathurst
ceased his visits not because of Captain Forster, butfrom another
reason altogether; and certainly I have neither said nor done
anything that would justify your saying that Captain Forster
had out Mr. Bathurst out. Even if I had, you ought not to
have alluded to such a thing. I am not angry with you,” she
said, seeing how downcast he looked ; “ but you must not talk
like that any more; it would be wrong at any time ; it is
specially so now, when we are all shut up here together, and
none can say what will happen to us.”
“ It seemed to me that was just the reason why I could speak
about it, Miss Hannay. We may none of us get out of this
fix we are in, and I do think we ought all to be friends together
now. Richards and I both agreed that as it was certain neither
of us had a chance of winnin g you, the next best thing was to see
you and Bathurst come together. \Vell, now all that's over,
of course, but is it wrong for me to ask, how is it you have
come to dislike him 'l ”
“But I don’t dislike him, Mr. \Vilson.”
h “ \Vell, then, why do you go on as if you didn’t like
im 'l ” -
Isobel hesitated. From most men she would have considered
the question impertinent, and would have resented it, but this
frank-faced boy meant no impertinence ; he loved her in his
honest way, and only wanted to see her happy.


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 215
“I can’t speak to him if he doesn’t speak to me,” she said
desperately. ‘
“N o, of course not,” he agreed; “but why shouldn’t he
speak to you’.l You can’t have done anything to offend him
exeept taking up with Forster.”
“It is nothing to do with Captain Forster at all, Mr.
Wilson ; I— ” and she hesitated. “I said something at
which he had the right to feel hurt and offended, and he
has never given me any opportunity since of saying that I
was sorry.”
“ I am sure you would not have said anything that he should
have been ofi'ended about, Miss Hannay ; it is not your nature,
and I would not believe it whoever told me, not even yourself ;
so he must be in fault, and of course I have nothing more
to say about it.”
“He wasn’t in fault at all, Mr. \Vilson. I can’t tell you
what I said, but it was very wrong and thoughtless on my part,
and I have been sorry for it ever since; and he has a perfect
right to be hurt and not to come near me, especially as—” and
she hesitated, “as I have acted badly since, and he has no
reason for supposing that I am sorry. And now you must not
ask me any more about it ; I don’t know why I have said as
much to you as I have, only I know I can trust you, and I like
you very much, though I could never like you in the sort
of way you would want me to. I wish you didn’t like me like
that.”
“Oh, never mind me,” he said earnestly. “I am all right,
Miss Hannay ; I never expected anything, you know, so I am
not disappointed, and it has been awfully good of you talking
to me as you have, and not getting mad with me for interfering.
But I can hear them coming down from the terrace, and I must
be off. I am on duty there, you know, now. Bathurst has
undertaken double work in that hole. I didn’t like it, really;
it seemed mean to be getting out of the work and letting him
do it all, but he said that he liked work, and I really think he
does. I am sure he is always worrying himself because he can’t
take his share in the firing on the roof; and when he is working,
he hasn’t time to think about it. When he told me that in
future he would drive the tunnel our shift himself, he said,
‘That will enable you to take your place on the roof, \Vilson,
and you must remember you are firing for both of us, so don’t
throw away a shot.’ It is awfully rough on him, isn’t it? Well,
good—bye, Miss Hannay,” and ‘Vilson hurried off to the roof.


216 RUjUB, THE ~yUGGLER.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE next four days made a great alteration in the position
of the defenders in the fortified house.
The upper storey was now riddled by balls, the parapet round
the terrace had been knocked away in several places, the gate
was in splinters ; but as the earth fromthe tunnel had been all
emptied against the sandbags, it had grown to such a thick-
ness that the defence was still good here. But in the wall,
against which one of the new batteries had steadily directed
its fire, there was a yawning gap, which was hourly increasing
in size, and would ere long be practicable for assault. Many
of the shots passing through this had struck the house itself.
Some of these had penetrated, and the room in the line of fire
could no longer be used.
There had been several casualties. The young civilian,
Herbert, had been killed by a shot that struck the parapet
just where he was lying. Captain Rintoul had been seriously
wounded, two of the natives had been killed by the first shot
which penetrated the lower room. Mr. Hunter was prostrate
with fever, the result of exposure to the sun, and several others
had received wounds more or less severe from fragments of
stone; but the fire of the defenders was as steady as at first,
and the loss of the natives working the guns was severe, and
they no longer ventured to fire from the gardens and shrubberies
round the walls.
Fatigue, watching, still more the heat on the terrace, was
telling heavily upon the strength of the garrison. The ladies
went about their work quietly and almost silently. The con-
stant anxiety and the confinement in the darkened rooms was
telling upon them too. Several of the children were ill; and
when not employed in other things, there were fresh sandbags
to be made by the women, to take the place of those damaged
by the enemy’s shot.
\Vhen, of an evening, a portion of the defenders came off
duty, there was more talk and conversation, as all endeavoured
to keep up a good face and assume a confidence they were far
from feeling. The Doctor was perhaps the most cheery of the
party. During the daytime he was always on the roof, and
his rifle seldom cracked in vain. In the evening he attended
to his patients, talked cheerily to the ladies, and laughed and
joked over the events of the day.


RUj‘UB, THE yUGGLER. 2x7
None among the ladies showed greater calmness and courage
than Mrs. Rintoul, and not a word was ever heard from the time
the siege began of her ailments or inconveniences. She was
Mrs. Hunter’s best assistant with the sick children. Even
after her husband was wounded, and her attention night and
day was given to him, she still kept on patiently and firmly.
“I don’t know how to admire Mrs. Rintoul enough,” Mrs.
Hunter said to Isobel Hannay one day ; “formerly I had no
patience with her, she was always querulous and grumbling;
now she has turned out a really noble woman. One never
knows people, my dear, till one sees them in trouble.”
“Every one is nice,” Isobel said. “I have hardly heard
a word of complaint about anything since we came here, and
every one seems to help others and do little kindnesses.”
The enemy’s fire had been very heavy all that day, and the
breach in the wall had been widened, and the garrison felt
certain that the enemy would attack on the following morning.
“ You and Farquharson, Doctor, must stop on the roof,”
the Major said. “In the first place, it is possible they may
try to attack by ladders at some other point, and we shall
want two good shots up there to keep them back; and in the
second, if they do force the breach, we shall want you to cover
our retreat into the house. I will get a dozen rifles for each of
you loaded and in readiness. Isobel and Mary Hunter, who have
both volunteered over and over again, shall go up to load ; they
have both practised, and can load quickly. Of course if you
see that the enemy are not attacking at any other point, you
will help us at the breach by keeping up a steady fire on them,
but always keep six guns each in reserve. I shall blow my
whistle as a signal for us to retire to the house if I find we
can hold the breach no longer, so when you hear that, blaze
away at them as fast as you can. Your twelve shots will check
them long enough to give us time to get in and fasten the
door. \Ve shall be round the corner of the house before they
can get fairly over the breastwork. \Ve will set to work to
raise that as soon as it gets dark.”
A breastwork of sandbags had already been erected behind
the breach, in case the enemy should make a sudden rush, and
a couple of hours’ labour transformed this into a strong work;
for the bags were already filled, and only needed placing in
position. \Vhen completed, it extended in a horseshoe shape,
some fifteen feet across, behind the gap in the wall. For nine
feet from the ground it was composed of sandbags three deep,


218 ‘RUj’UB, THE yUGGLER.
and a single line was then laid along the edge to serve as a
parapet.
“I don’t think they will get over that,” the Major said,
when the work was finished. “ I doubt if they will be disposed
even to try when they reach the breach. ”
Before beginning their work they had cleared away all the
fallen brickwork from behind the breach, and a number of bricks
were laid on the top of the sandbags to be used as missiles.
“A brick is as good as a musket ball at this distance,” the
Major said; “and when our guns are empty we can take to
them; there are enough spare rifles for us to have five each, and
with those and our revolvers and the bricks, we ought to be able
to account for an army. There are some of the servants and
syces who can be trusted to load. They can stand down
behind us, and we can pass our guns down to them as we
empty them.”
Each man had his place on the work assigned to him.
Bathurst, who had before told the Major that when the time
came for an assault to be delivered he was determined to take
his place in the breach, was placed at one end of the horse-
shoe Where it touched the Wall.
“I don’t promise to be of much use, Major,” he said quietly.
“ I know myself too well ; but at least I can run my chance of
being killed.”
The Major had put IVilson next to him.
“I don’t think there is much chance of their storming the
work, Wilson; but if they do, you catch hold of Bathurst’s
arm, and drag him away when you hear me whistle ; the
chances are a hundred to one against his hearing it, or remem-
bering what it means if he does hear it.”
“All right, Major, I will look to him.”
Four men remained on guard at the breach all night, and at
the first gleam of daylight the garrison took up their posts.
“ N ow mind, my dears,” the Doctor said, as he and Farquhar-
son went up on the terrace with Isobel and Mary Hunter; “you
must do exactly as you are told, or you will be doing more harm
than good, for Farquharson and I would not be able to pay atten-
tion to our shooting. You must‘lie down and remain perfectly
quiet till we begin to fire, then keep behind us just so far that
you can reach the guns as we hand them back to you after firing ;
and you must lead them either kneeling or sitting down, so that
you don’t expose your heads above the thickest part of the
breastwork. When you have loaded, push the guns back well


220 RU] UB, THE 7 UGGLER.
the roof; “the Sepoys are leading, and there is a crowd of
natives behind them.” .
Those lying in the middle of the curve of the horseshoe
soon caught sight of the enemy advancing tumultuously
towards the breach. The Major had ordered that not a shot
was to be fired until they reached it, and it was evident that
the silence of the besieged awed the assailants with a sense of
unknown danger, for their pace slackened, and when they got
to within fifty yards of the breach they paused and opened fire.
Then, urged forward by their officers and encouraged by their
own noise, they again rushed forward Two of their officers
led the way; and as these mounted the little heap of rubbish
at the foot of the breach, two rifles cracked out from the
terrace, and both fell dead. '
There was a yell of fury from the Sepoys, and then they
poured in through the breach. Those in front tried to stop
as they saw the trap into which they were entering, but
pressed on by those behind they were forced forward.
And now a crackling fire of musketry broke out from the
rifles projecting between the sandbags into the crowded mass.
Every shot told. \Vild shrieks, yells, and curses rose from the
assailants. Some tried madly to climb up the sandbags, some
to force their way back through the crowd behind ; some threw
themselves down; others discharged their muskets at their
invisible foe. From the roof the Doctor and his companion
kept up a rapid fire upon the crowd struggling to enter the
breach. As fast as the defenders’ muskets were discharged,
they handed them down to the servants behind to be reloaded ,-
and when each had fired his spare muskets, he betook himself
to his revolver. >
Wilson while discharging his rifle kept his eyes upon Bathurst.
The latter had not fired a shot, but lay rigid and still, save for
a. sort of convulsive shuddering. Presently there was a little
lull in the firing as the weapons were emptied, and the
defenders seizing the bricks hurled them down into the mass.
“Look out ! ” the Major shouted 5 “keep your heads low—I
am going to throw the canisters.”
A number of these had been prepared, filled to the mouth
with powder and bullets, and with a short fuse attached, ropes
being fastened round them to enable them to be slung some
distance. The Major half rose to throw one of these missiles
when his attention was called by a shout from Wilson.
The latter was so occupied that he had not noticed Bathurst,




I” A. "it;





The Doctor and Farquharson kept up an almost continuous fire.


222 RUJ‘UB, THE YUGGLER.
The girl disappeared, and almost at the same moment the
batteries spoke out again, and a crackle of the musketry began
from the gardens. The Major turned round. Bathurst was
leaning against the wall breathing heavily after his exertions,
Forster was coolly wiping his sword on the tunic of one of the
fallen Sepoys.
“Are either of you hurt '1 ” he asked.
“I am not hurt to speak of,” Forster said; “I got a rip
with a bayonet as I jumped down, but I don’t think it is of
any consequence.”
“How are you, Bathurst '1'” the Major repeated. “\Vhat
on earth possessed you to jump down like that 'l ”
“ I don’t know, Major ; I had to do something, and when you
stopped firing, I felt it was time for me to do my share.”
“You have done more than your share, I should say,” the
Major said; “for they went down like ninepins before you.
Now, Wilson, you take one of his hands, and I will take the
other, and help him up.”
It needed considerable exertion to get him up, for the re-
action had now come, and he was scarce able to stand.
“You had better go up to the house and get a glass of
wine," the Major said. “Now, is any one else hurt?”
“I am hit, Major,” Richards said quietly; “a ball came
in between the sandbags just as I fired my first shot, and
smashed my right shoulder. I think I have not been much
good since, though I have been firing from my left as well as
I could. I think I will go up and get the Doctor to look at it.”
But almost as he spoke the young fellow tattered, and would
have fallen, had not the Major caught him.
t “Lend me a hand, Doolan,” the latter said 3 “ we will carry
him in; I am afraid he is very hard hit.”
7 The ladies gathered round the Major and Captain Doolan
as they entered with their burden. Mary Hunter had already
run down and told them that the attack had been repulsed and
the enemy had retreated.
“Nobody else is hit,” the Major said, as he entered; “at
least, not seriously. The enemy have been handsomely beaten
with such loss, that they won’t be in a hurry to try again.
\Vill one of you run up and bring the Doctor down?”
Richards was carried into the hospital room, where he was
left to the care of the Doctor, Mrs. Hunter, and Mrs. Rintoul.
The Major returned to the general room.
“Boy, bring half a dozen bottles of champagne and open


RUj'UB, THE yuooLER. =23
them as quickly as you can,” he said ,- “we have got enough to
last us for weeks, and this is an occasion to celebrate, and I
think we have all earned it.”
The others were by this time coming in, for there was no
chance of renewing the attack at present. Farquharson was
on the roof on the look-out. Quiet greetings were exchanged
between wives and husbands.
“ It didn’t last long,” Wilson said ; “ not above five minutes,
I should say, from the time when we opened fire.”
“It seemed to us an age,” Amy Hunter replied ; “it was
dreadful not to be able to see what was going on ; it seemed
to me every one must be killed with all that firing.”
“It was sharp while it lasted,” the Major said; “ but we
were all snug enough except against a stray bullet, such as that
which hit poor young Richards. He behaved very gallantly,
and none of us knew he was hit till it was all over.”
“But how did Captain Forster get his bayonet wound?"
Mrs. Doolan asked. “I saw him go in just now into the
surgery ; it seemed to me he had a. very serious wound, for his
jacket was cut from the breast up to the shoulder, and he was
bleeding terribly, though he made light of it.” i
“ He jumped down into the middle of them,” the Major said.
“ Bathurst jumped down first, and was fighting like a. madman
with a mace he has got. \Ve could do nothing, for we were ‘
afraid of hitting him, and Forster jumped down to help him,
and as he did so, got that rip with the bayonet; it is a nasty
cut, no doubt, but it is only a flesh wound."
“Where is Mr. Bathurst?” Mrs. Doolan asked; “is he hurt
too? Why did he jump down 'I I should not have thought—”
and she stopped.
“I fancy a sort of fury seized him,” the Major said; “but
whatever it was, he fought like a giant. He is a powerful
man, and that iron mace is just the thing for such work. The
natives went down like ninepins before him. No, I don’t think
he is hurt.” '
“I will go out and see,” Mrs. Doolan said; and taking a
mug half full of champagne from the table, she went out.
Bathurst was sitting on the ground leaning against the wall
of the house.
“You are not hurt, Mr. Bathurst, I hope,” Mrs. Doolan said,
as she came up. “ N 0, don't try to get up, drink a little of this;
we are celebrating our victory by opening a case of champagne.
TheMa jor tells us you have been distin guishing yourself greatly.”


224 RUleB, THE j‘UGGLER.
Bathurst drank some of the wine before he replied.
“In a way, Mrs. Doolan, I scarcely know what I did do.
I wanted to do something, even if it was only to get killed.”
“You must not talk like that,” she said kindly; “ your
life is as valuable as any here, and you know that we all like
and esteem you ; and at any rate, you have shown today that
you have plenty of courage.”
“The courage of a Malay running amuck, Mrs. Doolan ;
that is not courage, it is madness. You cannot tell—no one
can tell—what I have suffered since the siege began. The
humiliation of knowing that I alone of the men here am
unable to take my part in the defence, and that while others
are fighting I am useful only to work as a miner.”.
“But you are as useful in that way as you would be in the
other,” she said. “I don’t feel humiliated because I can only
help in nursing the sick while the others are fighting for us.
We have all of us our gifts. Few men have more than you.
You have courage and coolness in other ways, and you are wrong
to care nothing for your life because of the failing, for which
you are not accountable, of your nerves to stand the sound of fire-
arms. I can understand your feelings and sympathise with you,
but it is of no use to exaggerate the importance of such a matter.
You might live a thousand lives without being again in a. posi-
tion when such a failing would be of the slightest importance,
one way or the other. Now come in with me. Certainly this
is not the moment for you to give way about it ; for whatever
your feelings may have been, or whatever may have impelled
you to the act, you have on this occasion fought nobly.”
“Not nobly, Mrs. Doolan,” he said, rising to his feet;
“desperately, or madly if you like.”
At this moment Wilson came out. “ Halloa, Bathurst, what
are you doing here? Breakfast is just ready, and every one is
asking for you. I am sure you must want something after your
exertions. You should have seen him laying about him with
that iron mace, Mrs. Doolan. I have seen him using the pick,
and knew how strong he was, but I was astonished, I can tell
you. It was a sort of Coeur-de-Lion business. He used to use
a mace you know, and once rode through the Saracens and
smashed them up, till at last, when he had done, he couldn’t
open his hand. Bring him in, Mrs. Doolan. If he won’t come,
I will go in and send the Doctor out to him. Bad business poor
Richards being hurt, isn’t it ? Awfully good fellow, Richards.
Can’t think why he was the one to be hit.”


RU 7 UB, THE 7UGGLER. 22;
So keeping up a string of talk, the young subaltern led
Bathurst into the house.
After breakfast a white flag was waved from the roof, and
in a short time two Sepoy oflicers came up with a. similar
flag. The Major and Captain Doolan went out to meet
them, and it was agreed that hostilities should be suspended
until noon, in order that the wounded and dead might be
carried off.
While this was being done, the garrison remained under
arms behind their work at the breach lest any treacherous
attempt should be made. The mutineers, however, who were
evidently much depressed by the failure, carried the bodies ofi
quietly, and at twelve o’clock firing recommenced.
That evening, after it was dark, the men gathered on the ~
terrace.
“ Well, gentlemen,” the Major said, “ we have beaten them
off to-day, and we may do it again, but there is no doubt how it
must all end. You see, this afternoon their guns have all been
firing at a fresh place in the wall ; and if they make another
breach or two, and attack at them all together, it Will be hopeless
to try to defend them. You see, now that we have several sick
and wounded, the notion of making our escape is almost knocked
on the head. At the last moment each may try to save his
life, but there must be. no desertion of the sick and wounded
as long as there is a cartridge to be fired. Our best hope is in
getting assistance from somewhere, but we know nothing of
what is going on outside. I think the best plan will be for
one of our number to try to make his way out, and go either to
Lucknow, Agra, or Allahabad, and try and get help. If they
could spare a troop of cavalry it might be sufficient ; the muti-
neers have suffered very heavily; there were over a hundred
' and fifty bodies carried out to-day, and if attacked suddenly, I
don’t think they would make any great resistance. We may
hold out for a week or ten days, but I think that is the out-
side ; and if rescue'does not arrive by that time, we must either
surrender or try to escape by that passage.”
There was a general assent.
“Bathurst would be the man to do it,” the Doctor said.
“Once through their lines, he could pass without exciting the
slightest suspicion ; he could buy a horse then, and could be at
any of the stations in two days.”
“Yes, there is no doubt that he is the man to do it,” the
Major said. “ Where is he now '1”
P


226 RUjUB, THE j‘UGGLER.
“At work as usual, Major; shall I go and speak to him'l
but I tell you fairly I don’t think he will undertake it.”
“Why not, Doctor‘l It is a dangerous mission, but no
more dangerous than remaining here.”
“ Well, we shall see,” the Doctor said, as he left the group.
Nothing was said for a few minutes, the men sitting or
lying about smoking. Presently the Doctor returned.
“Bathurst refuses absolutely,” he said. “He admits that
he does not think there would be much difficulty for him to
get through, but he is convinced that the mission would be a
useless one, and that could help have been spared it would
have come to us before now.”
“But in that case he would have made his escape,” the
Major said.
“ That is just why he won’t go, Major; he says that come
what will he will share the fate of the rest, and 'that he will
not live to be pointed to as the one man who made his escape
of the garrison of Deennugghur,”
“Who can we send '1” the Major said. “ You are the only
other man who speaks the language well enough to pass as a
native, Doctor.”
“ I speak it fairly, but not well enough for that ; besides, I
am too old to bear the fatigue of riding night and day ; and
moreover, my services are wanted here both as a doetor and as
a rifle shot.”
“I will go, if you will send me, Major,” Captain Forster
said suddenly, “not in disguise but in uniform, and on my
horse’s back. Of course I should run the gauntlet of their
sentries. Once through, I doubt if they have a horse that
could overtake mine.” .
There was a general silence of surprise. Forster’s reckless
courage was notorious, and he had been conspicuous for the
manner in which he had chosen the most dangerous points
during the siege ; and this offer to undertake what, although
a dangerous enterprise in itself, still offered a far better chance
of life than that of remaining behind, surprised every one. It
had been noticed that since the rejection of his plan to sally out
' in a body and cut their way through the enemy, he had been
moody and silent, except only when the fire was heavy and the
danger considerable; then he laughed and joked and seemed
absolutely to enjoy the excitement; but he was the last man
whom any of them would have expected to volunteer for a
service that, dangerous as it might be, had just been refused by


1207013, THE jUGGLER. . 2:7
Bathurst on the ground that it offered a chance of escape from
the common lot. ,
The Major was the first to speak.
“Well, Captain Forster, as we have just agreed that our
only chance is to obtain aid from one of the stations,.and as
you are the only volunteer for the service, I do not see that I
can decline to accept your ofi'er. At which station do you think
you would be most likely to find a force that could help us’l ”
“I should say Lucknow, Major, If help is to be obtained
anywhere, I should say it was there."
“Yes, I think that is the most hopeful. You will start at
once; I suppose the sooner the better.”
“ As soon as they are fairly asleep 3 say twelve o’clock.”
“Very well. I will go and write a despatch for you to
carry, giving an account of the fix we are in here. How will
you sally out 'l ”
“I should think the easiest plan would be to make a gap
in the sandbags in the breach, lead the horse till fairly out-
side, and then mount.”
“I think you had better take a spare horse with you,” the
Doctor said ; “it will make a difference if you are chased, if
you can change from one to the other. Bathurst told me to
say whoever went could have his horse, which is a long way the
best in the station. I should fancy as good as your own."
“ I don’t know," Forster said; “led horses are a nuisance ;
still, as you say, it might come in useful, if it is only to loose
and turn down a side road, and so puzzle any one who may be
after you in the dar .” a Y
The Major and Forster left the roof together.
“Well, that is a rum go,” Wilson said. “If it had been
any one but Forster, I should have said that he funked and was
taking the opportunity to get out of it, but every one knows
that he has any amount of pluck; look how he charged those
Sepoys single-handed.”
“There are two sorts of pluck, Wilson,” the Doctor said
drily. “There is the pluck that will carry a man through a
desperate action and lead him to do deeds that are the talk of
an army. Forster possesses that kind of pluck in an unusual
degree. He is almost an ideal cavalryman—dashing reckless ;
riding with a smile on his lips into the thickest of the fray,
absolutely careless of life when his blood is up.
“There is another sort of courage, that which supports men
under long-continued strain, and enables them, patiently and


23o RUFUB, THE FUGGLER.
are going in the hope of obtaining aid for us. I should be
simply escaping while others stay, and I should despise myself
for the action. . Besides, I do not think that even in that case
my uncle would have consented to my going with you.”
“I am sure that he would,” Forster broke in. “ He would
never be mad enough to refuse you the chance of escape from
such a fate as may now await you. ”
“ \Ve need not discuss the question,” she said. “Even if I
loved you, I would not go with you; and I do not love you.”
“ They have prejudiced you against me,” he said angrily.
“They warned me, and they were right in doing so. Ask
yourself if they were not. \Vould you see a sister of yours
running the risk of breaking her heart without warning her?
Do not be angry,” she went on, putting her hand on his arm.
“ \Ve have been good friends, Captain Forster, and I like you
very much. \Ve may never meet again ; it is most likely we
never shall do so. I am grateful to you for the many pleasant
hours you have given me. Let us part thus.”
“ Can you not give some hope that in the distance, when these
troubles are over, should we both be spared, you may '4”
“ No, Captain Forster, I am sure it could never be so ; if we
ever meet again, we will meet as we part now—as friends. And
now I can stay no longer ; they will be missing me,” and turn~
ing, she entered the house before he could speak again.
It was some minutes before he followed her. He had not
really thought that she would go with him; perhaps he had
hardly wished it, for on such an expedition a woman would
necessarily add to the difficulty and danger ; but he had thought
that she would have told him that his love was returned, and
for, perhaps, the first time in his life he was serious in his
protestation of it.
“ \Vhat does it matter,” he said at last, as he turned ; “ ’tis
ten thousand to one against our meeting again; if we do, I can
take it up where it breaks off now. She half acknowledged
that she would have liked me if she had been sure that I
was in earnest. Next time I shall be so. She was right.
I was but amusing myself with her at first, and had no more
thought of marrying her than I had of flying. But there, it is
no use talking about the future; the thing now is to get out of
this trap. I have felt like a rat in a cage with a terrier watch-
ing me for the last month, and long to be on horseback again,
with the chance of making a fight for my life. What a fool
Bathurst was to throw away the chance.”


RU] UB, THE yUGGLER. 23:
Bathurst, his work done, had looked into the hall where the
others were gathered, and hearing that the Doctor was alone on
watch, had gone up to him.
“ I was just thinking, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, as he joined
him, about that fight today. It seems to me that whatever
comes of this business, you and I are not likely to be among
those who go down when the place is taken.”
“ How is that, Doctor? Why is our chance better than the
rest’l I have no hope myself that any will be spared.”
“ I put my faith in the juggler, Bathurst. Has it not struck
you that the first picture you saw has come true 7 ”
“ I have never given it a thought for weeks,” Bathurst said 3
“certainly I have not thought of it to-day. Yes, now you
speak of it, it has come true. How strange! I put it aside
as a clever trick—one that I could not understand any more
than I did the others, but, knowing myself, it seemed beyond
the bounds of possibility that it could come true. Anything
but that I would have believed, but, as I told you, whatever
might happen in the future, I should not be found fighting
desperately as I saw myself doing there. It is true that I did
so, but it was only a sort of a frenzy. I did not fire a shot, as
\Vilson may have told you. I strove like a man in a night-
mare to break the spell that seemed to render me powerless to
move, but when, for a moment, the firing ceased, a weight
seemed to fall off me, and I was seized with a sort of paSsion
to kill. I have no distinct remembrance of anything until it
was all over. It was still the nightmare, but one of a different
kind, and I was no more myself then than I was when I was
lying helpless on the sandbags. Still, as you say, the picture
was complete 3 at least, if Miss Hannay was standing up
here.”
“Yes, she rose to her feet in the excitement of the fight.
I believe we all did so. The picture was true in all its details
as you described it to me. And that being so, I believe that
other picture, the one we saw together, you and I and Isobel
Hannay in native disguises, will also come true.”
Bathurst was silent for two or three minutes.
“It may be so, Doctor—Heaven only knows. I trust for
your sake and hers it may be so, though I care but little about
myself ; but that picture wasn’t a final one, and we don’t know
what may follow it.”
“That is so, Bathurst. But I think that you and I, once
fairly away in disguise, might be trusted to make our way


232 R07 UB, THE 7UGGLER.
down the country. You see, we have a complete confirmation
of that juggler’s powers. He showed me a scene in the past
-—a scene which had not been in my mind for years, and was
certainly not in my thoughts at the time. He showed you a
scene in the future, which, unlikely as it appeared, has actually
taken place. I believe he will be equally right in this other
picture. You have heard that Forster is going ’I ”
“Yes ; Wilson came down and told me while I was at work.
\Vilson seemed rather disgusted at his volunteering. I don’t
know that I am surprised myself, for, as I told you, I knew
him at school, and he had no moral courage, though plenty of
physical. Still, under the circumstances, I should not have
thought he would have gone.”
“You mean because of Miss Hannay, Bathurst 'l ”
“Yes, that is what I mean. ”
“That sort of thing might weigh with you or me, Bathurst,
but not with him. He has loved and ridden away many times
before this, but in this case, fortunately, I don’t think he will
leave an aching heart behind him.”
“You don’t mean to say, Doctor, that you don’t think she
cares for him?”
“ I have not asked her the question,” the Doctor said drily.
“I dare say she likes him; in fact, I am ready to admit that
there has been what you may call a strong case of flirtation ;
but when a young woman is thrown with an uncommonly
good-looking man, who lays himself out to be agreeable to her,
my experience is that a flirtation generally comes of it, especially
when the young woman has no one else to make herself agree-
able to, and is, moreover, a little sore with the world in general.
I own that at one time I was rather inclined to think that out
of sheer perverseness the girl was going to make a fool of
herself with that good-looking scamp, but since we have‘been
shut up here, I have felt easy in my mind about it. And now,
if you will take my rifle for ten minutes, I will go down and
get a cup of tea; I volunteered to take sentry-work, but I
didn’t bargain for keeping it all night without relief. By the
way, I told Forster of your offer of your horse, and I think he
is going to take it."
“ He is welcome to it,” Bathurst said carelessly ; “it will be
of no use to me.”
“Now, look here,” the Doctor said shortly; “just put Miss
Hannay out of your head for the present, and attend to the
business on hand. I do not think there is much chance of


236 RUjUB, THE YUGGLER.
men could do. I have little hope that they will grant us terms
of surrender ,' for from the native servants who have deserted
us they must have a fair idea of our condition. What do you
think, Bathurst l ”
“I think it probable there are divisions among them,” he
replied ; “the Talookdars may have risen against us, but I do
not think they can have the same deadly enmity the Sepoys
have shown. They must be heartily sick of this prolonged
siege, and they have lost large numbers of their men. I should
say they would be willing enough to give terms, but probably
they are overruled by the Sepoys, and perhaps by orders from
Nana Sahib. I know several of them personally, and I think I
could influence Por Sing, who is certainly the most powerful of
the Zemindars of this neighbourhood, and is probably looked
upon as their natural leader ; if you approve of it, Major, I will
go out in disguise, and endeavour to obtain an interview with
him. He is an honourable man ; and if he will give his
guarantee for our safety, I would trust him. At any rate,
I, can but try. If I do not return, you will know that I
am dead, and that no terms can be obtained, and can then
decide when to end it all.”
“It is worth the attempt anyhow,” the Major said. “I say
nothing about the danger you will run, for no danger can be
greater than that which hangs over us all now.”
“ Very well, Major, then I will do it at once, but you must
not expect me back until to-morrow night. I can hardly
hope to obtain an interview with For Sing to-night.”
“ How will you go out, Bathurst 7 ”
“ I will go down at once and break in the roof of the gallery,”
he said; “ we know they are close round the wall, and I could
not hope to get out through any of the breaches.”
“I suppose you are quite convinced that there is no hope
of relief from Lucknow.”
“Quite convinced. I never had any real hope of it; but
had there been a force disposable, it would have started at once
if Forster arrived there with his message, and might have been
here by this time.”
“At any rate, we can wait no longer.”
“Then we will begin at once,” Bathurst .said, and taking
a_ crowbar and pick from the place where the tools were kept,
he lighted the lamp and went along the gallery, accompanied
by the Doctor, who carried two light bamboo ladders.
“ Do you think you will succeed, Bathurst i”


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 237
“I am pretty sure of it,” he said confidently. “I believe
I have a friend there.”
“A friend I ” the Doctor repeated in surprise.
“ Yes ; I am convinced that the juggler is there. Not once,
but half a dozen times during the last two nights when I have
been on watch on the terrace, I have distinctly heard the words
whispered in my ear, ‘Meet me at your bungalow.’ You may
think I dozed off and was dreaming, but I was as wide-awake
then as I am now. I cannot say that I recognised the voice,
but the words were in the dialect he speaks. At any rate, as
soon as I am out I shall make my way there, and shall wait
there all night on the chance of his coming. After what we
know of the man’s strange powers, there seems nothing un-
reasonable to me in his being able to impress upon my mind
the fact that he wants to see me.”
“I quite agree with you there, and his aid might be in-
valuable. You are not the sort of man to have delusions,
Bathurst, and I quite believe what you say. I feel more
hopeful now than I have done for some time.”
An hour’s hard work and a hole was made through the soil,
which was but three feet thick. Bathurst climbed up the
ladder and looked out.
“ It is as we thought, Doctor; we are in the middle of that
thicket. Now I will go and dress if you will keep guard here
with your rifle.”
At the end of the gallery a figure was standing; it was
Isobel Hannay.
“I have heard you are going out again, Mr. Bathurst.”
“Yes, I am going to see what I can do in the way of
making terms for us.” '
“You may not come back again ,” she said nervously.
“That is, of course, possible, Miss Hannay, but I do not
think the risk is greater than that run by those who stay here.”
“I want to speak to you before you go,” she said; “ I have
wanted to speak so long, but you have never given me an oppor-
tunity. We may never meet again, and I must tell you how
sorry I am—how sorry I have been ever since for what I said.
I spoke as a foolish girl, but I know better now. Have I not
seen how calm you have been through all our troubles, how
you have devoted yourself to us and the children, how you have
kept up all our spirits, how cheerfully you have worked, and
as our trouble increased we have all come to look up to you
and lean upon you. Do say, Mr. Bathurst, that you forgive


23s RUj’UB, THE j’UGGLER.
me, and that if you return we can be friends as we were
before.”
“ Certainly I forgive you if there is anything to forgive, Miss
Hannay,” he said gravely. “Nothing that you or any one can
say can relieve me of the pain of knowing that I have been un-
able to take any active part in your defence, that I have been
forced to play the part of a woman rather than a man ,' but
assuredly, if I return, I shall be glad to be again your friend,
which, indeed, I have never ceased to be at heart.”
Perhaps she expected something more, but it did not come.
He spoke cordially, but yet as one who felt that there was an
impassable barrier between them. She stood irresolute for a
moment, and then held out her hand.
“ Good-bye, then,” she said.
He held it a moment. “ Good-bye, Miss Hannay. May God
' keep you and guard you.” Then gently he led her to the door,
and they passed out together. A quarter of an hour later he
rejoined the Doctor, having brought with him' a few short
lengths of bamboo.
“I will put these across the hole when I get out,” he said,
“lay some sods over them, and cover them up with leaves, in
case any one should enter the bushes to-morrow. It is not likely,
but it is as well to take the precaution. One of you had better
stay on guard until I come back. It would not do to trust any
of the natives ; those that remain are all utterly disheartened
and broken down, and might take the opportunity of purchas-
ing their lives by going out and informing the enemy of the
opening into the gallery. They must already know of its exist-
ence from the men who have deserted. But, fortunately, I don’t
think any of them are aware of its exact direction ; if they had
been, we should have had them counterminin g before this.”
Having carefully closed up the opening, Bathurst went to
the edge of the bushes and listened. He could hear voices
between him and the house, but all was quiet near at hand,
and he began to move noiselessly along through the garden.
He had no great fear of meeting with any one here. The natives
had formed a cordon round the wall, and behind that there
would be no one on watch, and as the batteries were silent, all
were doubtless asleep there. In ten minutes he stood before
the charred stumps that marked the site of his bungalow.
As he did so, a figure advanced to meet him.
“It is you, Sahib. * I was expecting you. I knew that you
would come this evening.”


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 239
“I don’t know how you knew it, but I am heartily glad to
see you.”
“You want to see For Sing? Come along with me and I
will take you to him ; but there is no time to lose ;” and without
another word he. walked rapidly away, followed by Bathurst.
When they got into the open, the latter could see that his
companion was dressed in an altogether different garb to that
in which he had before seen him, being attired as a person
of some rank and importance. He stopped presently for
Bathurst to come up with him.
“ I have done what I could to prepare the way for you,” he
said. “Openly I could for certain reasons do nothing, but I
have said enough to make him feel uncomfortable about the
future, and to render him anxious to find a way of escape for
himself if your people should ever again get the mastery.”
“ How are things going, Rujub'l We have heard nothing for
three weeks. How is it at Oawnpore ’l ”
“ Cawnpore has been taken by the Nana. They surrendered
on his solemn oath that all should be allowed to depart in
safety. He broke his oath, and there are not ten of its de-
fenders alive. The women are all in captivity.”
Bathurst groaned. He had hardly hoped that the handful
of defenders could have maintained themselves against such
overpowering numbers, but the certainty as to their fate was
a heavy blow.
“And Lucknow?” he asked.
“The Residency holds out at present, but men say that it
must soon fall.”
“ And what do you say?” \
“I say nothing,” the man said; “we cannot use our art in
matters which concern ourselves.”
“ And Delhi '2 ”
“There is a little force of whites in front of Delhi ; there
are tens of thousands of Sepoys in the town, but as yet the
whites have maintained themselves. The chiefs of the Pun jaub
have proved faithless to their country, and there the British
rule is maintained.”
“ Thank God for that,” Bathurst exclaimed ; “ as long as the
Punjaub holds out, the tables may be turned. And the other
Presidencies ’l ”
“Nothing as yet,” Rujub said, in a tone of discontent.
“Then you are against us, Rujub."
The man stopped.


24o RUjUB, THE yUGGLER.
“ Sahib, I know not what I wish now. I have been brought
up to hate the whites. Two of my father’s brothers were hung
as Thugs, and my father taught me to hate the men who did
it. For years I have worked quietly against you, as have most
of those of my craft. We have reason to hate you. In the
old times we were honoured in the land—honoured and feared ;
for even the great ones knew that we had powers such as no
other men have. But the whites treat us as if we were more
buffoons, who play for their amusement ; they make no dis-
tinction between the wandering conjurer, with his tricks of
dexterity, and the masters, who have powers that have been-
handed down from father to son for thousands of years, who
can communicate with each other though separated by the
length of India; who can, as you have seen, make men invisible ;
who can read the past and the future. They see these things,
and though they cannot explain them, they persist in treating
us all as if we were mere jugglers.
“ They prefer to deny the evidence of their own senses
rather than admit that we have powers such as they have not ;
and so, even in the eyes of our own countrymen, we have lost
our old standing and position, while the whites would bribe us
with money to divulge the secrets in which they profess to
disbelieve. No wonder that we hate you, and that we long for
the return of the old days, when even princes were glad to
ask favours at our hands. It is seldom that we show our
powers now. Those who aid us, and whose servants we are,
are not to be insulted by the powers they bestow upon us being
used for the amusement of men who believe in nothing.
“The Europeans who first came to India have left records'
of the strange things they saw at the courts of the native
princes. But such things are no longer done for the amuse-
ment of our white masters. Thus, then, for years I have
worked against you; and just as I saw that our work was suc-
cessful, just as all was prepared for the blow that was to sweep
the white men out of India, you saved my daughter; then my
work seemed to come to an end. Would, any of my country-
men, armed only with a whip, have thrown themselves in the way
of a tiger to save a woman a stranger—one altogether beneath
him in rank—one, as it were, dust beneath his feet? That I
should be ready to give my life for yours was a matter of
course; I should have been an ungrateful wretch otherwise.
But this was not enough. At one blow the work I had devoted
myself to for years was brought to nothing. Everything


RUjUB, THE yUGGLER. 241
seemed to me new; and as I sat by my daughter’s bedside,
when she lay sick with the fever, I had to think it all out
again. Then I saw things in another light. I saw that, though
the white men were masterful and often hard, though they had
little regard for our customs, and viewed our beliefs as super-
stitious, and scoffed at the notion of there being powers of
which they had no knowledge, yet that they were a great people.
Other conquerors, many of them, India has had, but none who
have made it their first object to care for the Welfare of the
people at large. The Feringhees have wrung nothing from the
poor to be spent in pomp and display ; they permit no tyranny
or ill-doing; under them the poorest peasant tills his fields
in peace.
“ I have been obliged to see all this, and I feel now that their
destruction would be a frightful misfortune. \Ve should be
ruled by our native lords; but as soon as the white man was gone
the old quarrels would break out, and the country would be red
with blood. I did not see this before, because I had only looked
at it with the eyes of my own caste ; now I see it with the eyes
of one whose daughter has been saved from a tiger by a white
man. I cannot love those I have been taught to hate, but I
can see the benefit their rule has given to India.
“But what can I do now? I am in the stream, and I must
go with it. I know not what I wish or what I would do. Six
months ago I felt certain. Now I doubt. It seemed to me
that in a day the English Raj would be swept away. How
could it be otherwise when the whole army that had conquered
India for them were against them? I knew they were brave,
but we have never lacked bravery. How could I tell that
they would fight one against a hundred?
“ But come, let us go on. For Sing is expecting you. I told
him that I knew that one from the garrison would come out
to treat with him privately tonight, and he is expecting you,
though he does not know who may come.” _
Ten minutes walking and they approached a large tent sur-
rounded by several smaller ones. A sentry challenged when
they approached, but on Rujub giving his name, he at once rc-
sumed his walk up and down, and Rujub, followed by Bathurst,
advanced and entered the tent. The Zemindar was seated on
a divan, smoking a. hookah. Rujub bowed, but not with the
deep reverence of one approaching his superior.
“ He is here,” he said.
“Then you were not mistaken, Rujub.”


242 RUj’UB, THE j‘UGGLER.
“How could I be when I knew ? ” Rujub said. “I have done
what I said, and have brought him straight to you. That was
all I had to do with it; the rest is for your highness.”
“ I would rather that you should be present,” For Sing said,
as Ru jub turned to withdraw.
“No,” the latter replied; “in this matter it is for you to
decide. I know not the Nana’s wishes, and your highncss must
take the responsibility. I have brought him to you rather than
to the commander of the Sepoys, because your authority should
be the greater; it is you and the other Oude chiefs who have
borne the weight of this siege, and it is only right that it is you
who should decide the conditions of surrender. The Sepoys are
not our masters, and it is well they are not so ; the Nana and
the Dude chiefs have not taken up arms to free themselves
from the English Raj, to be ruled over by the men who have
been the servants of the English.”
“That is so,” the Zemindar said, stroking his beard ; “well,
I will talk with this person.”
Rujub left the tent. “You do not know me, For Sing?”
Bathurst said, stepping forward from the entrance where he
had hitherto stood ; “ I am the Sahib Bathurst."
“Is it so?” the Zemindar said, laying aside his pipe and
rising to his feet ; “ none could come to me whom I would rather
see. You have always proved yourself a just oflicer, and I
have no complaint against you. We have often broken bread
together, and it has grieved me to know that you were in
yonder house. Do you come to me on your own account, or
from the Sahib who commands ? ”
“ I come on my own account,” Bathurst said ; “when I come
as a messenger from him, I must come openly. I know you to
be an honourable man, and that I could say what I have to
say to you and depart in safety. I regard you as one who has
been misled, and regret for your sake that you should have
been induced to take part with these mutineers against us.
Believe me, chief, you have been terribly misled. You have
been told that it needed but an effort to overthrow the British
Raj. Those who told you so lied. It might have seemed easy
to destroy the handful of Europeans scattered throughout India,
but you have not succeeded in doing it. Even had you done so,
you would not have so much as begun the work. There are but
few white soldiers here. Why? Because England trusted in
the fidelity of her native troops, and thought it necessary to
keep only a handful of soldiers in India, but if need be, for


R U] UB, THE 3‘ UGGLER. 243
every soldier now here she could send a hundred, and she will
send a hundred if required to reconquer India. Already you
may be sure that ships are on the sea laden with troops ; and if
you find it so hard to overcome the few soldiers now here, what
would you do against the great armies that will pour in ere
long? Why, all the efforts of the Sepoys gathered at Delhi are
insuflicient to defeat the four or five thousand British troops
who hold their posts outside the town, waiting only till the
succours arrive from England to take a terrible vengeance.
Woe be then to those who have taken part against us ; still
more to those whose hands are stained with British blood.”
“It is too late now," the native said gloomily, “the die is
cast ; but since I have seen how a score of men could defend
that shattered house against thousands, do you think I have
not seen that I have been wrong? Who would have thought
that men could do such a thing? But it is too late now.”
“ It is not too late,” Bathurst said ; “it is too late, indeed,
to undo the mischief that has been done, but not too late for
you to secure yourself against some of the consequences. The
English are just; and when they shall have stamped out this
mutiny, as assuredly they will do, they will draw a distinction
between mutinous soldiers who were false to their salt, and
native chiefs who fought, as they believed, for the indepen-
dence of their country. But one thing they will not forgive,
whether in Sepoy or in prince, the murder of man, woman, or
child in cold blood: for that there will be no pardon.
“ But it is not upon that ground that I came to appeal to
you, but as a noble of Oude—a man who is a brave enemy,
but who could never be a butcher. We have fought against
each other fairly and evenly, the time has come when we can
fight no longer, and I demand of you, confidently, that if we
surrender, the lives of all within those walls shall be respected,
and a safe conduct be granted them down the country. I know
that such conditions were granted to the garrison at Cawnpore,
and that they were shamelessly violated; for that act, Nana.
Sahib will never be forgiven. He will be hunted down like a
dog and hung when he is caught, just as if he had been the
poorest peasant. But I have not so bad an opinion of the
people of India as to believe them base enough to follow such
an example, and I am confident that if you grant us those
terms, you will see that the conditions are observed.”
“ I have received orders from Nana Sahib to send all
prisoners down to him,” For Sing said, in a hesitating voice.


:44 12117013, THE jUGGLER.
“ You will never send down prisoners from here,” Bathurst
replied firmly. You may attack us again, and after the loss
of the lives of scores more of your followers you may be
successful, but you will take no prisoners, for at the last
moment we will blow the house and all in it into the air.
Besides, who made Nana Sahib your master? He is not the
lord of Oude; and though doubtless he dreams of sovereignty,
it is a rope, not a throne, that awaits him. Why should you
nobles of Oude obey the orders of this peasant boy, though
he was adopted by the Peishwa? The Peishwa himself was
never your lord, and why should you obey this traitor, this
butcher, this disgrace to India, when he orders you to hand
over to him the prisoners your sword has made '! "
“That is true,” Por Sing said gloomily ; “but the Sepoys
will not agree to the terms."
“The Sepoys are not your masters,” Bathurst said; “ we
do not surrender to them, but to you. \Ve place no con-
fidence in their word, but we have every faith in the honour of
the nobles of Oude. If you and your friends grant us the terms
we ask, the Sepoys may clamour, but they will not venture to
do more. Neither they nor Nana Sahib dare at this moment
affront the people of Oude. There are Sepoys round Luck-
now, but it is the men of Oude who are really pressing the
siege. If you are firm, they will not dare to break with you
on such a question as the lives of a score of Europeans. If
you will give me your word and your honour that all shall be
spared, I will come out in the morning with a flag of truce to
treat with you. If not, we will defend ourselves to the last,
and then blow ourselves into the air.”
“And you think,” Por Sing said doubtfully, “that if I
agreed to this, it would be taken into consideration should
the British be restored.”
“I can promise you that it will,” Bathurst said. “It will
be properly represented that it is to you that the defenders
of Deennugghur, and the women and children with them, owe
their lives, and you may be sure that this will go a very long
way towards wiping out the part you have taken in the attack
on the station. When the day of reckoning comes, the British
Government will know as well how to reward those who ren-
dered them service in these days, as to punish those who have
been our foes.”
“I will do it,” For Sing said firmly. “Do not come out
until the afternoon. In the morning I will talk with the


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 245
other Zemindars, and bring them over to agree that there
shall be no more bloodshed. There is not one of us but is
heartily sick of this business, and eager to put an end to it.
Rujub may report what he likes to the Nana, I will do what
is right.”
After a hearty expression of thanks, Bathurst left the tent.
Rujub was awaiting him outside.
“You have succeeded '1 ” he asked.
“Yes; he will guarantee the lives of all the garrison, but
he seemed to be afraid of what you might report to Nana.
Sahib.”
“I am the Nana’s agent here,” Rujub said; “I have been
working with him for months I would I could undo it all
now. I was away when they surrendered at Cawnpore. Had
I not been, that massacre would never have taken place, for
I am one of the few who have influence with him. He knows
my power, and fears it.”
They made their way back without interruption to the
clump of bushes near the house.
“ \Vhen shall I see you again 'l” Bathurst asked.
“I do not know,” replied Rujub, “but be sure that I shall
be at hand to aid you if possible should danger arise.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
As soon as Bathurst began to remove the covering of the hole,
a voice came from below.
“ Is that you, Bathurst '1 ”
“ All right, Doctor.”
“Heaven be praised. You are back sooner than I expected,
by a long way. I heard voices talking, so I doubted whether
it was you.”
“The ladder is still there, I suppose, Doctor ? ”
“Yes; it is just as you got off it. \Vhat are you going to
do about the hole I”
“ Rujub is here; he will cover it up after me.”
“ Then you were right,’ ’ the Doctor said, as Bathurst stepped
down beside him 3 “and you found the juggler really waiting
for you i ”
“At the bungalow, Doctor, as I expected.”
“ And what have you done? You can hardly have seen Por
Sing ; it is not much over an hour since you left.”


246 R0703, THE j’UGGLER.
“I have seen him, Doctor 5 and what is more, he has pledged
his word for our safety.”
“ Thank God for that, lad ; it is more than I expected. This
will be news indeed for the poor women. And do you think
he will be strong enough to keep his pledge 'l ”
“ I think so j. he asked me to wait until to-morrow afternoon
before going out with a flag of truce, and said that by that time
he would get the other Zemindars to stand by him, and would
make terms whether the Sepoys liked it or not.”
“ \Vell, you shall tell us all about it afterwards, Bathurst 5
let us take the news in to them at once ; it is long since they
had good tidings of any kind ; it would be cruel to keep them
in suspense, even for five minutes.”
There was no noisy outburst of joy when the news was told.
Three weeks before it would have been received with the
liveliest satisfaction, but now the bitterness of death was well-
nigh past; half the children lay in their graves in the garden,
scarce one of the ladies but had lost husband or child, and while
women murmured “thank God ” as they clasped their children
to them, the tears ran down as they thought how difierent it
would have been had the news come sooner. The men, although
equally quiet, yet showed more outward satisfaction than the
women. \Varm grasps of the hands were exchanged by those
who had fought side by side during these terrible days, and a
load seemed lifted at once ofl" their shoulders.
Bathurst stayed but a moment in the room after this news
was told, but went in with Dr. \Vade to the Major, and reported
to him in full the conversation that had taken place between
himself and For Sing.
“I think you are right, Bathurst ; if the Oude men hold
together, the Sepoys will scarcely risk a breach with them.
\Vhether he will be able to secure our safety afterwards is
another thing. ”
“ I quite see that, Major ; but it seems to me that we have
no option but to accept his offer and hope for the best.”
“That is it,” the Doctor agreed. “It is certain death if we
don’t surrender; there is a chance that he will be able to
protect us if we do. At any rate, we can be no worse off than
we are here.”
Isobel had been in with Mrs. Doolan nursing the sick children
when Bathurst arrived, but they presently came out. Isobel
shook hands with him without speaking.
“\Ve are all heavily indebted to you, Mr. Bathurst,” Mrs. p


248 R07 UB, THE jUGGLER.
Things are quieter to-night than they have been for some time
past, and I trust he will get some sleep.”
So saying, he quietly left the room.
“I don’t believe he has slept two hours at a time since the
siege began,” Mrs. Doolan said, with tears in her eyes. “We
have all suffered—God onl y knows what we have suffered—but
I am sure that he has suffered more than any of us. As for
you men, you may well say you are sorry and ashamed of your '
treatment of him. Coward, indeed 1 Mr. Bathurst may be
nervous, but I am sure he has as much courage as any one here.
Come, Isobel, you were up all last night, and it’s past two
o’clock now. We must try to get a little sleep before morning,
and I should advise every one else ofi duty to do the same.”
At daybreak firing recommenced, and was kept up energeti-
cally all the morning. At two o’clock a white flag was hoisted
from the terrace, and its appearance was greeted with shouts
of triumph by the assailants. The firing at once ceased,
and in a few minutes a native oflicer carrying a white flag
advanced towards the walls.
“We wish to see the Zemindar Por Sing,” Bathurst said,
“to treat with him upon the subject of our surrender.”
The officer withdrew, and returned in half an hour, saying
that he would conduct the officer in command to the presence
of the chief of the besieging force. Captain Doolan, therefore,
accompanied by Bathurst and Dr. Wade, went out. They were
conducted to the great tent where all the Zemindars and the
principal oflicers of the Sepoys were assembled. Bathurst acted
as spokesman.
“Por Sing,” he said, “and you Zemindars of Oude, Major
Hannay being disabled, Captain Doolan, who is now in
command of the garrison, has come to represent him and to
offer to surrender to you under the condition that the lives of
all British and natives within the walls be respected, and that
you pledge us your faith and honour that we shall be permitted
to go down the country without molestation. It is to you,
For Sing, and you nobles of Oude, that we surrender, and not
to those who, being sworn soldiers, have mutinied against their
oflicers, and have in many cases treacherously murdered them.
With such men Major Hannay will have no dealings, and it is to
you that we surrender. Major Hannay bids me say that if this
offer is refused, we can for a long time prolong our resistance.
\Ve are amply supplied with provisions and munitions of war,
and many as are the numbers of our assailants Who have fallen


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. :49
already, yet more will die before you obtain possession of the
house. More than that, in no case will we be taken prisoners,
for one and all have firmly resolved to fire the magazine when
resistance is no longer possible, and to bury ourselves and our
assailants in the ruins."
\Vhen Bathurst ceased, a hubbub of voices arose, the Sepoy
ofiicers protesting that the surrender should be made to them.
It was some minutes before anything like quietness was re-
stored. and then one of the officers said, “Here is Rujub; he
speaks in the name of Nana. What does he say to this?”
Rujub, who was handsomely attired, stepped forward.
“I have no orders from his highness on this subject,” he
said. “He certainly said that the prisoners were to be sent to
him, but at present there are no prisoners, nor, if the siege con-
tinues, and the English carry out their threat, will there be any
prisoners. I cannot think that Nana Sahib would wish to see
some hundreds more of his countrymen slain or blown up, only
that he may have these few men and women in his power.”
“ We have come here to take them and kill them,” one of
the oflicers said defiantly; “and we will do so.”
For Sing, who had been speaking with the Talookdars round
him, rose from his seat.
“It seems to me that it is for us to decide this matter,” he
said. “ It is upon us that the losses of this siege have fallen.
At the order of Nana Sahib we collected our retainers, aban-
doned our homes, and have for three weeks supported the
dangers of this siege. We follow the Nana, but we are not his
vassals, nor do we even know what his wishes are in this matter,
butit seems to us that we have done enough and more than
enough. Numbers of our retainers and kinsmen have fallen,
and to prolong the siege would cause greater loss, and what
should we gain by it'l The possession of a heap of stones.
Therefore, we are all of opinion that this offer of surrender
should be accepted. \Ve war for the freedom of our country,
and have no thirst for the blood of these English Sahibs,
still less for that of their wives and children.”
Some of the officers angrily protested, but Por Sing stood
firm, and the other chiefs were equally determined. Seeing this,
the officers consulted together, and the highest in rank then said
to the Talookdars, “ \Ve protest against these conditions being
given, but since you are resolved, we stand aside, and are ready
to agree for ourselves and our men to what you may decide.”
“What pledges do you require 1 ” Por Sing asked Bathurst.


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 251
“As far as accommodation is concerned, we can do little to
make you comfortable, but in other respects we are not badly
provided.”
Some of the native servants were at once told ofl’ to erect an
awning over a portion of the terrace. Tables and couches were
placed here, and Bathurst undertook the work of entertaining
the visitors.
He was glad of the precaution that had been taken in sending
them, for with the glass he could make out that there was much
disturbance in the Sepoy lines, men gathering in large groups,
with much shouting and noise. Muskets were discharged in
the direction of the house, and it was evident that the muti-
neers were very discontented with the decision that had been
arrived at.
In a short time, however, a body, several hundred strong, of
the Oude fighting men moved down and surrounded the house ;
and when a number of the Sepoys approached with excited and
menacing gestures, one of the Zemindars went out to meet
them, and Bathurst, watching the conference, could see by his
pointing to the roof of the house that he was informing them
that hostages had been given to the Europeans for the due
observance of the treaty, and doubted not he was telling them
that their lives would be endangered by any movement. Then
he pointed to the batteries, as if threatening that if any attack
was made the guns would be turned upon them. At any rate,
after a time they moved away, and gradually the Sepoys could
be seen returning to their lines.
There were but few preparations to be made by the garrison
for their journey. It had been settled that they might take
their personal effects with them, but it was at once agreed to
take as little as possible, as there would probably be but little
room in the boats, and the fewer things they carried the less
there would be to tempt the cupidity of the natives.
“Well, Bathurst, what do you think of the look-out ’l ” the
Doctor asked, as late in the evening they sat together on some
sandbags in a corner of the terrace.
“ I think that-if we get past Cawnpore in safety, there is not
much to fear. There is no other large place on the river, and
the lower we get down the less likely the natives are to disturb
us, knowing, as they are almost sure to do, that a force is
gathering at Allahabad.”
“After what you heard of the massacre of the prisoners at
Cawnpore, whom the Nana and his officers had all sworn to


:52 R07 UB, THE yUGGLER.
allow to depart in safety, there is little hope that this scoundrel
will respect the arrangements made here.”
“We must pass the place at night, and trust to drifting down
unobserved—the river is wide there—and keeping near the
opposite shore, we may get past in' the darkness without being
perceived; and even if they do make us out, the chances are they
will not hit us. There are so few of us that there is no reason
why they should trouble greatly about us.”
“I am sorry to say, Bathurst, that I don’t like the appear-
ance of the Major’s wound. Everything has been against him ;
the heat, the close air, and his anxiety of mind have all told
on him. He seems very low, and I have great doubts whether
he will ever see Allahabad.”
“I hope you are wrong, Doctor, but I thought myself there
was a (hange for the worse when I saw him an hour ago;
there was a drawn look about his face I did not like. He is a
splendid fellow; nothing could have been kinder than he has
been to me. I wish I could change places with him.”
The Doctor grunted. “Well, as none of us may see Allaha-
bad, Bathurst, you need not trouble yourself on that score. I
wonder what has become of your friend the conjurer. I thought
he might have been in to see you this afternoon.”
“I did not expect him,” Bathurst said ; “ I expect he went
as far as he dared in what he said at the Durbar to-day.
Probably he is doing all he can to keep matters quiet. Of
course he may have gone down to Cawnpore to see Nana Sahib,
but I should think it more probable that he would remain here
until he knows we are safe on board the boats.”
“Ah, here is \Vilson,” said the Doctor; “he is a fine young
fellow, and I am very glad he has gone through it safely.”
“ So am I," Bathurst said warmly; “here we are, Wilson.”
“I thought I would find you both smoking here,” \Vilson
said, as be seated himself; “it is awfully hot below, and the
ladies are all at work picking out the things they are going to
take with them and packing them, and as I could not be of any
use at that, I thought I would come up for a little fresh air,
if one can call it fresh, but in fact I would rather sit over an
open drain, for the stench is horrible. How quiet everything
seems to-night ! After crouching here for the last three weeks
listening to the boom of their cannon and the rush of their
balls overhead, or the crash as they hit something, it seems
quite unnatural; one can’t help thinking that something is
going to happen. I don’t believe I shall be able to sleep a


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 253
wink to-night; while generally, in spite of the row, it has
been as much as I could do to keep my eyes open. I suppose
I shall get accustomed to it in time. At present it seems too
unnatural to enjoy it.”
“ You had better get a good night’s sleep if you can, \Vilson,”
the Doctor said. “There won't be much sleep for us in the
boats till we see the walls of Allahabad.”
“I suppose not, Doctor. I expect we shall be horribly
cramped up. I long to be there. I hope to get attached
to one of the regiments coming up, so as to help in giving the
thrashing to these scoundrels that they deserve. I would give
a year’s pay to get that villain, Nana Sahib, within reach of
my sword. It is awful to think of the news you brought in,
Bathurst, and that there are hundreds of women and children
in his power now. \Vhat a day it will be when we march
into Cawnpore."
“Don’t count your chickens too soon, 
Vilson,” the Doctor
said. “The time I am looking forward to is when we shall
have safely passed Cawnpore on our way down ; that is quite
enough for me to hope for at present.”
“Yes, I was thinking of that myself,” Wilson replied. “If
the Nana could not be bound by the oath he had taken himself,
he is not likely to respect the agreement made here.”
“\Ve must pass the place at night,” Bathurst said, “and
trust to not being seen. Even if they do make us out, we
shan’t be under fire long unless they follow us down the bank ;
but if the night is dark, they may not make us out at all.
Fortunately there is no moon, and boats are not very large
marks even by daylight, and at night it would only be a
chance shot that would hit us.”
“ Yes, we should be as difficult to hit as a tiger,” the Doctor
put in.
Wilson laughed.
“I have gained a lot of experience since then, Doctor.
‘Vhat ages that seems back. Years almost.”
“It does indeed,” the Doctor agreed; “we count time by
incidents and not by days. \Vell, I think I shall turn in.
Are you coming, Bathurst ’l ”
“No, I could not sleep,” Bathurst said ; “I shall watch till
morning. I feel sure it is all safe, but the mutineers might
attempt something.”
The night, however, passed off quietly, and soon after day-
break eight bullock carts were seen approaching, with a strong


256 RU] UB, THE jUGGLER.
my agents in London have another copy. I had two made in
case of accident.”
“Oh, uncle, you will get better now you are out of that
terrible place.”
“ I am afraid it is too late, my dear, though I should like
to live for your sake. But I think I see happiness before you,
if you choose to take it ; he is a noble fellow, Isobel, in spite
of that unfortunate weakness.”
Isobel made no answer, but a slight pressure of the hand
she was holding showed that she understood what he meant.
It was no use to tell her uncle that she felt that what might
have been was over now. Bathurst had chatted with her several
times the evening before and during the march that morning,
but she felt the difference between his tone and that in which
he had addressed her in the old times before the troubles
began. It was a subtle difference that she could hardly have
explained even to herself, but she knew that it was as a
friend, and as a friend only, that he would treat her in the
future, and that the past was a closed book, which he was
determined not to reopen.
Bathurst talked to Mrs. Hunter and her daughter, both of
whom were mere shadows, worn out with grief, anxiety, and
watching. At times he went forward to talk to the young
noble, who had taken his seat there. Both boats had been
arched in with a canopy of boughs to serve alike as a. pro-
tection from the sun and to screen those within from the sight
of natives in boats or on the banks.
“You don’t look yourself, Bathurst,” the Doctor said to
him late in the afternoon. Everything seems going on well.
No boats have passed us, and the boatmen all say that we
shall pass Cawnpore about one o’clock at the rate at which
we are going.”
“ I feel nervous, Doctor; more anxious than I have been ever
since this began. There is an apprehension of danger weighing
over me that I can’t account for. As you say, everything seems
going on well, and yet I feel that it is not so. I am afraid I
am getting superstitious, but I feel as if Rujub knows of some
danger impending, and that he is somehow conveying that im-
pression to me. I know that there is nothing to be done, and
that we are doing the only thing that we can do, unless we were
to land and try and make our way down on foot, which would
be sheer madness. That the man can in some way impress my
mind at a distance is evident from that summons he gave me


RUj‘UB, THE jUGGLER. 257
to meet him at the ruins of my bungalow, but I do not feel the
same clear distinct perception of his wishes now as I did then.
Perhaps he himself is not aware of the particulars of the danger
that threatens, or, knowing them, he can see no way of escape
out of them. It may be that at night, when everything is quiet,
one’s mind is more open to such impressions than it is when
we are surrounded by other people and have other things to
think of, but I feel an actual consciousness of danger."
“I don’t think there can be any danger until we get down
near Cawnpore. They may possibly be on the look-out for us
there, and may even have boats out on the stream. It is possible
that the Sepoys may have sent down word yesterday afternoon
to Nana Sahib that we had surrendered, and should be starting
by boat this morning, but I don’t think there can be any danger
till we get there. Should we meet native boats and be stopped,
Por Sing’s son will be able to induce them to let us pass. Cer-
tainly none of the villagers about here would be likely to disobey
him.‘ Once beyond Cawnpore, I believe that he would have
sufiicient influence, speaking, as he does, in the name, not only
of his father, but of other powerful landowners, to induce any
of these Oude people to let us pass. No, I regard Cawnpore as
our one danger, and I believe it to be a very real one. I have
been thinking, indeed, that it would be a good thing when we
get within a couple of miles of the place for all who are able
to walk, to land on the opposite bank, and make their way
along past Cawnpore, and take to the boats again a. mile below
the town.’ ’
“That would be an excellent plan, Doctor ; but if the boats
were stopped and they found the sick, they would kill them to
a certainty. I don’t think we could leave them. I am quite
sure Miss Hannay would not leave her uncle.”
“ I think we might get over even that, Bathurst. There are
only the Major and the other two men, and Mrs. Forsyth and
three children, too ill to walk. There are eight of the native
servants, ourselves, and the young Rajah’s retainers. We ought
to have no difficulty in carrying the wounded. As to the lug-
gage, that must be sacrificed, so that the boatmen can go down
with empty benches. It must be pitched overboard. The loss
would be of no real consequence ; every one could manage with
what they have on until we get to Allahabad. There would be
no difliculty in getting what we require there.”
“I think the plan is an excellent one, Doctor. I will ask
the young chief if his men will help us to carry the sick. If
B


:58 12117019, THE yUGGLER.
he says yes, we will go alongside the other boat and explain
our plan to Doolan.”
The young Rajah at once assented, and the boat being rowed
up to the other, the plan was explained and approved of. No
objection was raised by any one, even to the proposal for getting
rid of all the luggage ; and as soon as the matter was arranged,
a general disposition towards cheerfulness was manifested.
Every one had felt that the danger of passing Cawnpore would
be immense, and this plan for avoiding it seemed to lift a load
from their minds.
It was settled they should land at some spot where the river
was bordered by bushes and young trees; that stout poles
should be cut, and blankets fastened between them, so as to
form stretchers on which the sick could be carried.
As far as possible the boats were kept on the left side of the
river, but at times shallows rendered it necessary to keep over
by the right bank. \Vhenever they were near the shore,
silence was observed, lest the foreign tongue should be noticed
by any one near the bank.
Night fell, and they still continued their course. An hour
after sunset they were rowing near the right bank—the Major
had fallen into a sort of dose, and Isobel was sitting next to
Bathurst, and they were talking in low tones together—when
suddenly there was a hail from the shore, not fifty yards
away.
“ What boats are those 'l ”
“ Fishing boats going down the river,” one of the boatmen
answered.
“ Row alongside, we must examine you.” ‘
There was a moment’s pause, and then the Doctor said in
the native language, “Row on, men,” and the ears of both
boats again dipped into the water.
“We are pressed for time,” the young Zemindar shouted,
and then, dropping his voice, urged the men to row at the top
of their speed.
“Stop, or we fire,” came from the shore.
No answer was returned from the boats; they were now
nearly opposite the speaker. Then came the word—“Fire.”
Six cannon loaded with grape were discharged, and a crackle
of musketry at the same moment broke out. The shot tore
through the boats, killing and disabling many, and bringing
down the arbour of boughs upon them.
A terrible cry arose, and all was confusion. Most of the


R U7 U8, THE 7 UGGLER. 26!
“I am arranging for Murad and his follower to take you
down to Allahabad, Wilson. I shall stop at Cawnpore.”
“ Stop at Oawnpore ! Are you mad, Bathurst 'l ”
“ No, I am not mad. I shall stop to see if any of the ladies
have been taken prisoners, and if so, try to rescue them.
Rujub, the juggler, is there, and will help me."
“ But if you can stay, I can, Bathurst. - If Miss Hannay has
been made prisoner, 1 would willingly he killed to rescue her.”
“ I know you would, Wilson, but you would be killed without
being able to rescue her ; and as I should share your fate, you
would render her rescue impossible. I can speak the native
language perfectly, and know native ways. I can move about
among them without fear of exciting their suspicion. If you
were with me this would be impossible ; the first time you were
addressed by a native you would be detected; your presence
would add to my difiiculties a. hundredfold. It is not now a
question of fighting. Were it only that, I should be delighted
to have you with me. As it is, the thing is impossible. If
anything is done, I must do it alone. If I ever reach Miss
Hannay, she shall know that you were ready to run all risks
to save her. No, no, you must go on to Allahabad, and if you
cannot save her now, you will be with the force that will save
her, if I should fail to do so, and which Will avenge us both if
it should arrive too late to rescue her. New I must get you
to bandage my head, for I feel faint with loss of blood. I will
take off my shirt and tear it in strips. I have got a native
disguise next to the skin. \Ve may as well leave my clothes
behind me here.”
As soon aslVilson, with the assistance of Murad, had bandaged
the Wound, the party struck off from the river, and after four
hours’ walking came down upon it again two miles below
Cawnpore. Here Bathurst said he would stop, stain his skin,
and complete his disguise.
“I hate leaving you,” Wilson said, in a broken voice. “There
are only you and I left of all our party at Deennugghur. It
is awful to think they have all gone—the good old chief, the
Doctor, and Richards, and the ladies. There are only we two
left. It does seem such a dirty, cowardly thing for me to be
making off and leaving you here alone.“
“ It is not cowardly, Wilson, for I know you would willingly
stay if you could be of the slightest use ,' but as, on the contrary,
you would only add to the danger, it must be as I have arranged.
Good-bye, lad; don’t stay; it has to be done. God bless you!


262 RUfUB, THE YUGGLER.
Good-bye, Murad. Tell your father when you see him that I
know no shadow of broken faith rests on him.”
So saying, he turned and went into a clump of bushes, while
IVilson, too overpowered to speak, started on his way down
country with the two natives.
CHAPTER XIX.
ONCE alone, Bathurst threw himself down among the bushes
in an attitude of utter depression.
“ Why wasn’t I killed with the others 'I ” he groaned. “ Why
was I not killed when I sat there by her side 'I "
So he lay for an hour, and then slowly rose and looked round.
There was a faint light in the sky.
“It will be light in another hour,” he said to himself, and
he again sat down. Suddenly he started. Had some one
spoken, or had he fancied it?
“ \Vait till I come.” He seemed to hear the words plainly,
just as he had heard Rujub's summons before.
“That’s it; it is Rujub. How is it that he can make me
hear in this way? I am sure it was his voice. Anyhow, I
will wait. It shows he is thinking of me, and I am sure he will
help me. I know well enough I could do nothing by myself.”
Bathurst assumed with unquestioning faith that Isobel
Hannay was alive. He had no reason for his confidence. That
first shower of grape might have killed her as it killed others,
but he would not admit the doubt in his mind. Wilson’s de-
scription of what had happened while he was insensible was
one of the grounds of this confidence.
He had heard women scream. Mrs. Hunter and her daughter
were the only other women in the boat. Isobel would not
have screamed had those muskets been pointed at her, nor did
he think the others would have done so. They screamed when
they saw the natives about to murder those who were with
them. The three women were sitting together, and if one had
fallen by the grape shot all would probably have been killed.
He felt confident, therefore, that she had escaped ; he believed
he would have known it had she been killed.
“ If I can be influenced by this juggler, surely I should have
felt it had Isobel died,” he argued, and was satisfied that she
was still alive. .
What, however, more than anything else gave him hope was


R07 UB, THE YUGGLER. 263
the picture on the smoke. “Everything else has come true,”
he said to himself ; “why should not that? Wilson spoke of
the Doctor as dead. I will not believe it ; for if he is dead,
the picture is false. \Vhy should that thing of all others have
been shown to me unless it had been true’l What seemed im-
possible to me—that I should be fighting like a brave man—-
has been verified. Why should not thisl I should have
laughed at such superstition six months ago; now I cling to
it as my one ground for hope. Well, I will wait if I have to
stay here until to-morrow night.”
Noiselessly he moved about in the little wood, going to the
edge and looking out, pacing to and fro with quick steps, his
face set in a frown, occasionally muttering to himself. He
was in a fever of impatience. He longed to be doing some-
thing, even if that something led to his detention and death.
He said to himself that he should not care so that Isobel
Hannay did but know that he had died in trying to rescue her.
The sun rose, and he saw the peasants in the fields, and
caught the note of a bugle sounding from the lines at Cawnpore.
At last-—it had seemed to him an age, but the sun had been
up only an hour—he saw a figure coming along the river bank.
As it approached he told himself that it was the juggler, if
so, he had laid aside the garments in which he last saw him,
and was now attired as when they first met. \Vhen he saw
him turn off from the river bank and advance straight towards
the wood, he had no doubt that it was the man he expected.
“ Thanks be to the holy ones that you have escaped, Sahib,”
Rujub said, as soon as he came within speaking distance of
Bathurst. “I was in an agony last night. I was with you in
thought, and saw the boats approaching the ambuscade. I saw
you leap over and swim to shore. I saw you fall, and I cried
out. For a moment I thought you were killed. Then I saw
you go on and fall again, and saw your friends carry you in.
I watched you recover and come on here, and then I willed it
that you should wait here till I came for you. I have brought
you a disguise, for I did not know that you had one with you.
But, first of all, sit down and let me dress your wound afresh.
I have brought all that is necessary for it."
“You are a true friend, Rujub. I relied upon you for aid ;
do you know why I waited here instead of going down with
the others? "
“I know, Sahib. I can tell your thoughts as easily when
you are away from me as I can when we are together.”


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 265
“We can do nothing for the moment. Before I started I
sent off my daughter to Bithoor ; she knows many there, and
will find out what is being done and bring us word, for I dare
not show myself there. The Rajah is furious with me because
I did not support the Sepoys, and suffered conditions to be
made with your people, but now that all has turned out as he
wished, I will in a short time present myself before him again,
but for the moment it was better that my daughter should
go, as I had to come to you. But first you had better put on
the disguise I have brought you. You are too big and strong
to pass without notice in that peasant’s dress. The one I have
brought you is such as is worn by the rough people, the bud-
mashes, of Cawnpore. I can procure others afterwards when
we see what had best be done. It will be easy enough to enter
Bithoor, for all is confusion there, and men come and go as
they choose, but it will be well-nigh impossible for you to
penetrate where the mem- Sahib will be placed. Even for me,
known as I am to all the Rajah’s officers, it would be impossible
to do so ; it is my daughter in whom we shall have to trust.”
Bathurst rapidly put on the clothes that Rujub had brought
with him, and thrust a sword, two daggers, and a brace of
long-barrelled pistols into the sash round his waist.
“Your colour is not dark enough, Sahib. I have brought
dye with me ; but first I must dress the wound on your head,
and bandage it more neatly, so that the swathings will not
show below the folds of your turban.”
Bathurst submitted himself impatiently to Rujub’s hands
The latter cut off all the hair that would show under the
turban, dyed the skin the same colour as the other parts, and
finally, after darkening his eyebrows, eyelashes, and moustache,
pronounced that he would pass anywhere without attracting
attention. Then they started at a quick walk along the river,
crossed by the ferry-boat to Cawnpore, and made their way to
a quiet street in the native town.
“This is my house for the present,” Rujub said, producing
a. key and unlocking a door. He shouted as he closed the
door behind him, and an old woman appeared.
“ Is the meal prepared '1 ” he asked.
“It is ready,” she said.
“That is right. Tell Rhuman to put the pony into the
cart."
He then led the way into a comfortably furnished apart-
ment where a meal was laid.


266 RUfUB, THE ~Q‘UGGLER.
“Eat, my lord,” he said; “you need it, and will require
your strength.”
Bathurst, who, during his walk, had felt the effects of the
loss of blood and anxiety, at once seated himself at the table
and ate, at first languidly, but as appetite came, more heartily,
and felt still more benefited by a bottle of excellent wine
Rujub had placed beside him. The latter returned to the room
just as he had finished. He was now attired as he had been
when Bathurst last met him at Deennugghur.
“ I feel another man, Rujub, and fit for anything.”
“The cart is ready,” Rujub said. “I have already taken
my meal; we do not eat meat, and live entirely on vegetables.
Meat clouds the senses, and simple food, and little of it, is
necessary for those who would enter the inner brotherhood.”
At the door a small native cart was standing with a pony
in the shafts.
“You will go with us, Rhuman,” Rujub said, as he and
Bathurst took their seats in the cart. '
The boy squatted down at Rujub’s feet, taking the reins
and whip, and the pony started off at a brisk pace. Upon the
way Rujub talked of various matters, of the reports of the
force that was gathering at Allahabad, and the madness of the
British in supposing that two or three thousand men could
withstand the forces of the Nana.
“ They would be eaten up,” he said; “the troops will go out to
meet them ; they will never arrive within sight of Cawnpore.”
As Bathurst saw that he was talking for the boy to hear,
rather than to himself, he agreed loudly with all that he said,
and boasted that even without the N ana’s troops and the Sepoys,
the people of Cawnpore could cut the English dogs to pieces.
The drive was not along one, and the road was full of parties
going to or returning from Bithoor—groups of Sepoy officers,
parties of budmashes from Cawnpore, mounted messengers,
landowners with their retainers, and others. Arriving within
a quarter of a mile of the palace, Rujub ordered the boy to
draw aside.
“Take the horse down that road,” he said, “and wait there
until we return. \Ve may be some time. If we are not back
by the time the sun sets, you will return home.”
As they approached the palace Bathurst scanned every
window, as if he hoped to see Isobel’s face at one of them.
‘ Entering the garden, they avoided the terrace in front of the
house, and sauntering through the groups of people who had


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 267
gathered discussing the latest news, they took their seat in
a secluded corner.
Bathurst thought of the last time he had been there, when
there had been a féle given by the to the residents of
Cawnpore, and contrasted the present with the past. Then the
gardens were lighted up, and a crowd of officers and civilians
with ladies in white dresses had strolled along the terrace to the
sound of gay music, while their host moved about among them,
courteous, pleasant, and smiling. Now the greater portion of
the men were dead, the women were prisoners in the hands of
the native who had professed such friendship for them.
“ Tell me, Rujub,” he said presently, “more about this force
at Allahabad. “That is its strength likely to be '1”
“They say there is one British regiment of the line, one of
the plumed regiments with bare legs, and one of the white
Madras regiments, they have a few guns, a very few horsemen ;
that is all, while there are twenty thousand troops here. How
can they hope to win '1 ”
“You will see they will win,” Bathurst said sternly. “They
have often fought well, but they will fight now as they never
fought before; every man will feel himself an avenger of the
foul treachery and the brutal massacres that have been com-
mitted. Were it but one regiment that is coming up instead
of three, I would back it against the bloodstained wretches.”
“They are fighting for freedom,” Rujub said.
“They are fighting for nothing of the sort,” Bathurst replied
hotly; “ they are fighting for they know not what—change of
masters, for license to plunder, and because they are ignorant,
and have been led away. I doubt not that at present, confident
as they may be of victory, most of them in their hearts regret
what they have done. They have forfeited their pensions, they
have thrown away the benefits of their years of service, they
have been faithless to their salt, and false to their oaths. It
is true that they know they are fighting with ropes round their
necks, but even that won’t avail against the discipline and the
fury of our troops. I feel as certain, Rujub, that, in spite of
the odds against them, the English will triumph, as if I saw
their column marching into the town. _I don’t profess to see
the future as you do, but I know enough to tell you that ere
long that palace you can see through the trees will be levelled
to the ground, that it is as assuredly doomed as if fire had
already been applied to its gilded beams.”
Rujub nodded. “I know the palace is doomed. While I


268 RUj'UB, THE j’UGGLER.
have looked at it it has seemed hidden by a cloud of smoke,
but I did not think it was the work of the British—I thought
of an accident."
“The Rajah may fire it with his own hands,” Bathurst said ;
“ but if he does not, it will be done for him.”
“I have not told you yet, Sahib,” Rujub said, changing the
subject, “how it was that I could neither prevent the attack
on the boats nor warn you that it was coming. I know at
Deennugghur that news had been sent of the surrender to the
Nana. I remained till I knew you were safely in the boats,
and then rode to Cawnpore. My daughter was at the house
when I arrived, and told me that the Nana was furious with
me, and that it would not be safe for me to go near the palace.
Thus, although I feared that an attack was intended, I thought
it would not be until the boats passed the town. It was late
before I learnt that a battery of artillery and some infantry
had set out that afternoon. Then I tried to warn you, but I
felt that I failed. You were not in a mood when my mind
could communicate itself to yours.”
“I felt very uneasy and restless,” Bathurst said, “ but I had
not the same feeling that you were speaking to me I had that
night at Deennugghur ; but even had I known of the danger,
there would have been no avoiding it. Had we landed, we
must have been overtaken, and it would have come to the same
thing. Tell me, Rujub, had you any idea when I saw you at
Deennugghur that if we were taken prisoners Miss Hannay
was to be brought here instead of being placed with the other
ladies l” -
“Yes, I knew it, Sahib; the orders he gave to the Sepoys
were that every man was to be killed, and that the women and
children were to be taken to Cawnpore, except Miss Hannay
who was to be carried here at once. The Rajah had noticed
her more than once when she was at Cawnpore, and had made
up his mind that she should go to his Zenana.”
“ Why did you not tell me when you were at Deennugghur'l”
“What would have been the use, Sahib? I hoped to save
you all; besides, it was not until we saw her taken past this
morning that we knew that the Miss Hannay who was to be
taken to Bithoor was the lady whom my daughter, when she
saw her with you that night, said at once that you loved. But
had we known it, what good would it have done to have told
you of the Rajah’s orders I You could not have done more than
you have done. But now we know, we will aid you to save her. "


RU] UB, THE 7UGGLER. 269
“ How long will your daughter be before she comes? It is
horrible waiting here.”
“ You must have patience, Sahib. It will be no easy work
to get the lady away. There will be guards and women to look
after her. A lady is not to be stolen out of a Zenana as a
young bird is taken from its nest.”
“It is all very well to say ‘Be patient,’ ” Bathurst said,
getting up and walking up and down with quick angry strides.
“It is maddening to sit here doing nothing. If it were not
that I had confidence in your power and will to aid me, I would
go into the palace and stab Nana Sahib to the heart, though
I were cut to pieces for it the moment afterwards.”
“That would do no good to the lady, Sahib,” Rujub said
calmly. “She would only be left without a friend, and the
Nana’s death might be the signal for the murder of every white
prisoner. Ah, here comes my daughter.”
Rabda. came up quickly, and stopped before Bathurst with
her head bowed and her arms crossed in an attitude of humility.
' She was dressed in the attire worn by the principal servants
in attendance upon the Zenana of a Hindoo prince.
“ \Vell, what news, Rabda 'l ” Bathurst asked eagerly.
“The light of my lord’s heart is sick. She bore up till she
arrived here, and was handed over to the women. Then her
strength failed her, and she fainted. She recovered, but she
is lying weak and exhausted with all that she has gone through
and suffered.”
“ \Vhere is she now 'l”
“She is in the Zenana, looking out into the women’s court,
that no men are ever allowed to enter.”
“ Has the Rajah seen her?”
“No, Sahib. He was told the state that she was in, and
the chief lady of the Zenana sent him word that for the present
she must have quiet and rest, but that in two or three days
she might be fit to see him.”
“That is something,” Bathurst said thankfully. “Now we
shall have time to think of some scheme for getting her out.”
“You have been in the Zenana yourself, Rabdal” Itujub
asked.
“ Yes, father; the mistress of the Zenana saw me directly
an attendant told her I was there. She has always been kind
to me. I said that you were going on a journey, and asked
her if I might stay with her and act as an attendant until you
returned, and she at once assented. She asked if I should see


27o RUjiUB, THE YUGGLER.
you before you left, and when I said yes, she asked if you could
not give her some spell that would turn the Rajah’s thoughts
from this white girl. She fears that if she should become first
favourite in the Zenana, she might take things in her hands
as English women do, and make all sorts of changes. I told
her that, doubtless, the English girl would do this, and that I
thought she was wise to ask your assistance.”
“You are mad, Rabda,” her father said angrily; “what
have I to do with spells and love philtersf ”
“No, father, I knew well enough you would not believe in
such things, but I thought in this way I might see the lady,
and communicate with her.”
“A very good idea, Rabda,” Bathurst said. “Is there
nothing you can do, Rujub, to make her odious to the Nana 'l "
“Nothing, Sahib. I could act upon some people’s minds,
and make them think that the young lady was afiiicted by
some loathsome disease, but not with the Nana. I have many
times tried to influence him, but without success: his mind
is too deep for mine to master, and between us there is no
sympathy. Could I be present with him and the girl I might
do something—that is, if the powers that aid me would act
against him ; but this I do not think.”
“ Rujub,” Bathurst said suddenly, “there must have been
medical stores taken when the camp was captured—drugs
and things of that sort. Can you find out who has become
possessed of them i ”
“I might find out, Sahib. Doubtless the men who looted
the camp will have sold the drugs to the native shops, for
English drugs are highly prized. Are there medicines that
act as the mistress of the Zenana' wishes 'I”
“No; but there are drugs that when applied externally
would give the appearance of a terrible disease. There are
acids whose touch would burn and blister the skin, and turn
a beautiful face into a dreadful mask.”
“But would it recover its fairness, Sahib?”
“The traces might last for a long time, even for life, if
too much were used, but I am sure Miss Hannay would not
hesitate for a moment on that account.”
“ But you, Sahib—would you risk her being disfigured '! ”
“What does it matter to me?” Bathurst asked sternly.
“ Do you think love is skin deep, and that ’tis only for a fair
complexion that we choose our wives? Find me the drugs,
and let Rabda take them into her with a line from me. One


R U] UB, THE fUGGLER. 271
of them you can certainly get, for it is used, I believe, by
gold and silversmiths. It is nitric acid; the other is caustic
potash, or, as it is sometimes labelled, lunar caustic. It is
in little sticks; but if you find out any one who has bought
drugs or cases of medicines, I will go with you and pick
them out.”
“There will be no difiiculty about finding out where the
English drugs are They are certain to be at one of the shops
where the native doctors buy their medicines. ”
“ Let us go at once then,” Bathurst said. “ You can prepare
some harmless drink, and Rabda will tell the mistress of the
Zenana it will bring out a disfiguring eruption. \Ve can be
back here again this evening. \Vill you be here, Rabda, at
sunset, and wait until we come? You can tell the woman that
you have seen your father, and that he will supply her with
what she requires. Make some excuse if you can to see the
prisoner. Say you are curious to see the white woman who
has bewitched the Nana, and if you get the opportunity whisper
in her ear these words, ‘Do not despair, friends are working
for you.’ ”
Rabda repeated the English words several times over until
she had them perfect; then she made her way back to the
palace, while Bathurst and his companion proceeded at once
to the spot where they had left their vehicle.
They had but little difliculty in finding What they required.
Many of the shops displayed garments, weapons, jewellery, and
other things, the plunder of the entrenchments of Oawnpore.
Rujub entered several shops where drugs were sold, and finally
one of the traders said, “I have a large black box full of
drugs which I bought from a Sepoy for a lupee, but now that
I have got it I do not know what to do with it. Some of the
bottles doubtless contain poisons. I will sell it you for two
rupees, which is the value of the box, which, as you see, is very
strong and bound with iron. The contents I place no price
11 on.”
P“I will take it,” Rujub said. “I know some of the English
medicines, and may find a use for them.”
He paid the money, called in a coolie, and bade him take up
the chest and follow him, and they soon arrived at the juggler’s
house.
The box, which was a hospital medical chest, was filled with
drugs of all kinds. Bathurst put a stick of caustic into a small
phial, and half filled another, which had a glass stopper, with


=72 RUjUB, THE YUGGLER.
nitric acid, filled it up with water, and tried the effect of rubbing
a few drops on his arm.-
“That is strong enough for anything,” he said, with a slight
exclamation at the sharp pain. “ And now give me a piece of
paper and pen and ink.” Then sitting down he wrote :—
“ MY DEAR Miss HANNAY,—R11jub, the juggler, and I will
do what we can to rescue you. We are powerless to effect any-
thing as long as you remain where you are. The bearer, Rujub’s
daughter, will give you the bottles, one containing lunar caustic,
the other nitric acid. The mistress of the Zenana, who wants
to get rid of you, as she fears you might obtain influence over
the Nana, has asked the girl to obtain from her father a
philter which will make you odious to him. The large bottle i
is perfectly harmless, and you can drink its contents without
fear. The caustic is for applying to your lips ; it will be pain-
ful, but I am sure you will not mind that, and the injury will
be only of a temporary nature. I cannot promise as much for
the nitric acid; pray apply it very carefully, merely moistening
the glass stopper and applying it with that. I should use it
principally round the lips. It will burn and blister the skin.
The Nana will be told that you have a fever, which is causing
a terrible and disfiguring eruption. I should apply it also to
the neck and hands. Pray be very careful with the stuff ; for,
besides the application being exceedingly painful, the scars may
possibly remain permanently. Keep the two small bottles care-
fully hidden, in order to renew the application if absolutely
necessary. At any rate, this will give us time, and, from what
I hear, our troops are likely to be here in another ten days’
time. You will be, I know, glad to hear that \Vilson has also
escaped—Yours, R. BATHURST.”
A large bottle was next filled with elder flower water. The
trap was brought round, and they drove back to Bithoor.
Rabda was punctual to her appointment.
“ I have seen her, ” she said, “and have given her the
message. I could see that she understood it, but as there were
other women round, she made no sign. I told the mistress of
the Zenana that you had given me some magic words that I
was to whisper to her to prepare the way for the philter, so
she let me in without difiiculty, and I was allowed to go close
up to her and repeat your message. I put my hands on her
before I did so, and I think she felt that it was the touch of a





c 4‘ {‘me
Ev“ __ -






She and her companions crouched together.
...‘


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 273
friend. She flushed up when I spoke to her. The mistress,
who was standing close by, thought that this was a. sign of the
power of the words I had spoken to her. I did not stay more
than a minute. I was afraid she might try to speak to me in
your tongue, and that would have been dangerous.”
“There are the bottles,” Bathurst said ; “ this large one is
for her to take, the other two and this note are to be given
to her separately. You had better tell the woman that the
philter must be given by your own hands, and that you must
then watch alone by her side for half an hour. Say that after
you leave her she will soon go off to sleep, and must then be
left absolutely alone till daybreak to-morrow, and it will then
be found that the philter has acted. She must at once tell the
Nana that the lady is in a high fever, and has been seized
with some terrible disease that has altogether disfigured her,
and that he can see for himself the state she is in.’ ’
Rabda’s whisper had given new life and hope to Isobel
Hannay. Previous to that her fate had seemed to her to be
sealed, and she had only prayed for death; the long strain of
the siege had told upon her; the scene in the boat seemed a
species of horrible nightmare, culminating in a number of
Sepoys leaping on board the boat as it touched the bank, and
bayoneting her uncle and all on board except herself, Mrs.
Hunter, and her daughter, who were seized and carried ashore.
Then followed a night of dull despairing pain, while she and
her companions crouched together, with two Sepoys standing
on guard over them, while the others, after lighting fires,
talked and laughed long into the night over the success of
their attack.
At daybreak they had been placed upon a limber and driven
into Cawnpore. Her spirit had risen as they were assailed
by insults and imprecations by the roughs of the town, and
she had home up bravely till upon their arrival at the entrance
to what she supposed was the prison, she was roughly dragged
from the limber, placed in a close carriage, and driven off. In
her despair she had endeavoured to open the door in order to
throw herself under the wheels, but a soldier stood on each
step and prevented her from doing so.
Outside of the town she soon saw that she was on the road
to Bithoor, and the fate for which she was reserved flashed
upon her. She remembered new the oily compliments of Nana
Sahib, and the unpleasant thrill she had felt when his eyes
were fixed upon her 5 and had she possessed a weapon of any
8


R07 UB, THE j‘UGGLER. 275
But how could she be interested in her fate? Then she
remembered that this was the girl whom Bathurst had saved
from the tiger. If they were interested in her, it must be
through Bathurst. Could he too have survived the attack of
the night before? She had thought of him, as of all of them,
as dead, but possibly he might have escaped. Even during the
long night’s waiting, a captive to the Sepoys, the thought that
he had instantly sprung from beside her and leaped overboard,
had been an added pang to all her misery. She had no after
remembrance of him; perhaps he had swum to shore and got
off in safety. In that case he must be lingering in Cawnpore,
had learned what had become of her, and was trying to rescue
her. It was to the juggler he would naturally have gone to
obtain assistance. If so, he was risking his life now to save
hers; and this was the man whom she despised as a coward.
But what could he do? At Bithoor, in the power of this
treacherous Rajah, secure in the Zenana, where no man save
its master ever penetrated, how could he possibly help her?
Yet the thought that he was trying to do so was a happy one,
and the tears that flowed between her closed lids were not pain-
ful ones. She blamed herself now for having felt for a moment
hurt at Bathurst’s desertion of her. To have remained in the.
boat would have been certain death, while he could have been
of no assistance to her or any one else. That he should escape,
then, if he could, now seemed to her a perfectly natural action ;
she hoped that some of the others had done the same, and that
Bathurst was not working alone.
It did not occur to her that there could be any possibility
of the scheme for her rescue succeeding; as to that she felt no
more hopeful than before, but it seemed to take away the sense
of utter loneliness that she before felt that some one should be
interesting himself in her fate. Perhaps there would be more
than a mere verbal message next time 3 how long would it be
before she heard again? How long a respite had she before
that wretch came to see her? Doubtless he had heard that
she was ill. She would remain so. She would starve herself.
Her weakness seemed to her her best protection. _
As she lay apparently helpless upon the couch she watched
the women move about the room. The girl who had spoken
to her was not among them. The women were not unkind;
they brought her cooling drinks, and tried to tempt her to eat
something; but she shook her head as if utterly unable to do
so, and after a time feigned to be asleep.


276 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
Darkness came on gradually 3 some lamps were lighted in the
room. Not for a moment had she been left alone since she was
brought in—never less than two females remaining with her.
Presently the woman who was evidently the chief of the
establishment came in accompanied by a girl, whom Isobel
recognised at once as the juggler’s daughter. The latter
brought with her a tray, on which were some cakes and a silver
goblet. These she set down on an oak table by the couch. '
The girl then handed her the goblet, which, keeping up the
appearance of extreme feebleness, she took languidly. She
placed it to her lips, but at once took it away. It was not
cool and refreshing like those she had tasted before. It had
but little flavour, but had a faint odour, which struck her as
not unfamiliar. It was a drug of some sort they wished her to
drink.
She looked up in the girl’s face. Rabda made a reassuring
gesture, and said in a low whisper, as she bent forward,
“ Bathurst, Sahib.”
This was sufficient ; whatever it was it would do her no harm,
and she raised the cup to her lips and emptied it. Then the
elder woman said something to the other two, and they all left
the room together, leaving her alone with Rabda.
The latter went to the door quietly and drew the hangings
across it, then she returned to the couch, and from the folds of
her dress produced two phials and a tiny note. Then, noise-
lessly, she placed a lamp on the table, and withdrew to a short
distance while Isobel opened and read the note.
Twice she read it through, and then, laying it down, burst
into tears of relief. Rabda came and knelt down beside the
couch, and taking one of her hands, pressed it to her lips.
Isobel threw her arms round the girl’s neck, drew her close to
her, and kissed her warmly.
Rabda then drew a piece of paper and a pencil from her
dress and handed them to her. She wrote, “ Thanks a thousand
times, dear friend ; I will follow your instructions. Please send
me if you can some quick and deadly poison, that I may take
in the last extremity. Do not fear that I will flinch from
applying the things you have sent me. I' would not hesitate
to swallow them were there no other hope of escape. I_ rejoice
so much to know that you have escaped from that terrible
attack last night. Did Wilson alone get away? Do you know
they murdered my uncle and all the others in the boat, except
Mrs. Hunter and Mary? Pray do not run any risks to try


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 279
there has been any foul play, those concerned in it shall wish
they had never been born.”
As soon as he had left the woman called Rabda in.
“All has gone well,” she said ; “your father’s philter is
powerful indeed. Tell him whenever he needs any service I
can render he has but to ask it. Look at her; did you ever see
one so disfigured? The Rajah has seen her, and is filled with
loathing. She is to be sent to the Subada Ke Kothee. Are you
sure that the malady is not contagious? I have persuaded the
Rajah that it is ; that is why he is sending her away.”
“I am sure it is not,” Rabda said; “it is the result of the
drugs. It is terrible to see her; give me some cooling ointment.”
“ What does it matter about her now that she is harmless? ”
Poomba said scornfully. Being, however, desirous of pleasing
Rabda, she went away and brought a pot of ointment, which
the girl applied to the sores, the tears falling down her cheeks
as she did so.
The salve at once afforded relief from the burning pain, and
Isobel gratefully took a drink prepared from fresh limes.
She had only removed her gown when she had lain down,
having done this in order that it should not be burnt by the acid,
and that her neck and shoulders might be seen, and the belief
induced that this strange eruption was all over her. Rabda
made signs for her to put it on again, and pointing in the direc-
tion of Oawnpore, repeated the word several times, and Isobel
felt with a thrill of intense thankfulness that the stratagem
had succeeded, and that she was to be sent away at once,
probably to the place where the other prisoners were con-
fined. Presently the woman returned.
“ Rabda, you had best go with her. It were well that you
should leave for the present. The Rajah is suspicious ; he
may come back again and ask questions ; and as he knows
you by sight, and as you told me your father was in disfavour
with him at present, he might suspect that you were in some
way concerned in the matter.”
“I will go,” Rabda said. “I am sorry she has suffered so
much. I did not think the potion would have been so strong.
Give me a netful of fresh limes and some cooling lotion, that
I may leave with her there.”
In a few minutes a woman came up to say that the palanquin
was in readiness at the gate of the Zenana Garden. A large
cushion was taken off a divan, and Isobel was laid upon it and
covered with a light shawl. Six of the female attendants lifted


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER. 28:
captured with us in the boats; please help me to carry her
over to the wall there, and my daughter and I will nurse her;
it looks as if she had been terribly burnt, somehow.”
Many of the ladies had met Isobel in the happy days before
the troubles began, and great was the pity expressed at her
appearance. She was carried to the side of the wall, where
Mary and Mrs. Hunter at once made her as comfortable as
they could. Rabda, who had 'now thrown back her veil, pro-
duced from under her dress the net containing some fifty small
limes, and handed to Mrs. Hunter the pot of ointment and
the lotion.
“ She has saved me,” Isobel said; “it is the daughter of the
juggler who performed at your house, Mrs. Hunter; do thank
her for me, and tell her how grateful I am.”
Mrs. Hunter took Rabda’s hand, and in her own language
thanked her for her kindness to Isobel.
“I have done as I was told,” Rabda said simply; “the
Sahib Bathurst saved my life, and when he said the lady must
be rescued from the hands of the Nana, it was only right that
I should do so, even at the risk of my life.”
“So Bathurst has escaped,” Mrs. Hunter said, turning to
Isobel. “I am glad of that, dear; I was afraid that all were
gone." _
“Yes,I had a note from him; it is by his means that I
got away from Bithoor. He sent me the caustic and acid to
burn my face. He told me Mr. Wilson had also escaped, and
perhaps some others may have got away, though he did not
seem to know it.”
“But surely there could be no occasion to burn yourself as
badly as you have done, Isobel.”
“ I am afraid I did put on too much acid,” she said. “ I
was so afraid of not burning it enough ; but it does not matter,
it does not pain me nearly so much since I put on that
ointment ; it will soon get well.”
Mrs. Hunter shook her head regretfully.
“I am afraid it will leave marks for a long time.”
“That is of no consequence at all, Mrs. Hunter; I am so
thankful at being here with you, that I should mind very little
if I knew that it was always to be as bad as it is now. What
does it matter 2” .
“ It does not matter at all at present, my dear; but if you
ever get out of this horrible place, some day you may think
differently about it.”


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 283
could not have been done. But, of course, there was no know-
ing that she would be sent off directly after the Nana had
seen her.” >
“ Is she much disfigured, Rabda?” Bathurst asked.
“ Dreadfully," the girl said sorrowfully. “The acid must
have been too strong.”
“ It was strong, no doubt,” Bathurst said ; “ but if she had
put it on as I instructed her, it could only have burnt the
surface of the skin.”
“It has burnt her dreadfully, Sahib; even I should hardly
have known her. She must be brave indeed to have done it.
She must have suffered dreadfully ; but I obtained some oint-
ment for her, and she was better when I left her. She is with
the wife of the Sahib Hunter.”
“ Now, Babda, see if the meal is prepared,” Rujub said.
“lVe are both hungry, and you can have eaten nothing this
morning.”
He then left the room, leaving Bathurst to read the letters
which he still held in his hand, feeling that they were too
precious to be looked at until he was alone.
It was some time before Rabda brought in his breakfast, and,
glancing at him, she saw how deeply he had been moved by
the letters. She went up to him and placed her hand on his
shoulder.
“ \Ve will get her for you, Sahib. WVe have been successful so
far, be assured that we shall succeed again. What we have done
is more difficult than what we have to do. It is easier to get
twenty prisoners from a jail than one from a Rajah’s Zenana.”
“That is true enough, Rabda. At the moment I was not
thinking of that, but of other things.”
He longed for sympathy, but the girl would not have under-
stood him had he told her his feelings. To her he was a hero,
and it would have seemed to her folly had he said that he felt
himself altogether unworthy of Isobel Hannay. After he had
finished his breakfast Rujub again came in.
“ What does the Sahib intend to do now i” he asked.
“ As far as I can see there is nothing to do at present, Rujub,”
he said. “When the white troops come up she will be delivered.”
“Then will my lord go down to Allahabad ? ”
“ Certainly not. There is no saying what may happen.”
“That is so," Rujub agreed. “The white women are safe
at present, but if, as the Sahib thinks, the white soldiers should
beat the troops of the Nana, who can say what will happen?


284 RU7UB, THE jUGGLER.
The people will be wild with rage, the Nana will be furious—-
he is a tiger who, having once laid his paw on a victim, will
not allow it to be torn from him.”
“He can never allow them to be injured,” Bathurst said.
“It is possible that as our troops advance he may carry them
all off as hostages, and by the threat of killing them may make
terms for his own life, but he would never venture to carry out
his threats. You think he would ? ” he asked.
Rujub remained silent for a minute.
“I think so, Sahib; the Nana is an ambitious man; he
had wealth and everything most men would desire to make
life happy, but he wanted more: he thought that when the
British Raj was destroyed he would rule over the territories
of the Peishwa, and be one of the greatest lords of the land.
He has staked everything on that ; if he loses, he hast lost all.
He knows that after the breach of his oath and the massacre
here, there is no pardon for him. He is a tiger—and a
wounded tiger is most dangerous. If he is, as you believe he
will be, defeated, I believe his one thought will be of revenge.
Every day brings news of fresh risings. Scindia’s army will
join us; Holkar’s will probably follow. All Oude is rising in
arms. A large army is gathering at Delhi. Even if the
Nana is defeated here all will not be lost. He has twenty
thousand men; there are well-nigh two hundred thousand in
arms round Lucknow alone. My belief is that if beaten his
first thought will be to take revenge at once on the Feringhees,
and to make his name terrible, and that he will then go off
with his army to Lucknow or Delhi, where he would be re-
ceived as one who has dared more than all others to defy the
whites, who has no hope of pardon, and can therefore be relied
upon above all others to fight to the last.”
“ It may be so, Rujub, though I can scarce believe that there
exists a monster who would give orders for the murder of hun-
dreds of women and children in cold blood; but, at any rate,
I will remain and watch. We will decide upon what will be the
best plan to rescue her from the prison, if we hear that evil is
intended ; but, if not, I can remain patiently until our troops
arrive. I know the Subada Ke Kothee ; it is, if I remember
right, a large quadrangle with no windows on the outside.”
“That is so, Sahib ; it is a strong place, and difficult indeed
to get into or out of. There is only the main gate, which is
guarded at night by two sentries outside, and there is doubt-
less a strong guard within.”


RU] 03, THE 7UGGLER. 285
“ I would learn whether the same regiment always furnishes
the guard ; if so, it might be possible to bribe them.”
“I am afraid it would be too dangerous to try. There
are scores of men in Cawnpore who would cut a throat for a
rupee, but when it comes to breaking open a prison, to carry
off one of these white women whom they hate, it would be too
dangerous to try.”
“ Could you not do something with your art, Rujub 'l ”
“If there were only the outside sentries it would be easy
enough, Sahib. I could send them to sleep with a wave of
my hand, but I could not affect the men inside, whom I do not
know even by sight. Besides, in addition to the soldiers who
guard the gate, there will be the men who have been told off
to look after the prisoners. It will require a great deal of
thinking over, Sahib, but I believe we shall manage it. I
shall go to-morrow to Bithoor and show myself boldly to the
Nana. He knows that I have done good service to him, and
his anger will have cooled down by this time,v and he will
listen to what I have to say. It will be useful to us for
me to be able to go in and out of the palace at will, and so
learn the first news from those about him. It is most im-
portant that we should know if he has evil intentions towards
the captives, so that we may have time to carry out our plans.”
“Very well, Rujub. You do not expect me to remain in-
doors, I hope, for I should wear myself out if I were obliged
to wait here doing nothing.”
“No, Sahib ; it will be perfectly safe for you to go about
just as you are, and I can get you any other disguise you like.
You will gather what is said in the town, can listen to the
Sepoys, and examine the Subada Ke Kothee. If you like I
'will go there with you now. My daughter shall come with us ;
she may be useful, and will be glad to be doing something.”
They went out from the city towards the prison-house, which
stood in an open space round which were several other build-
ings, some of them surrounded with gardens and walls.
The Subada Ke Kothee was a large building, forming three
sides of a square, a strong high wall forming the fourth side.
It was low, with a flat roof. There were no windows or open-
ings in the outside wall, the chambers all facing the courtyard.
Two sentries were at the gate. They were in the red Sepoy
uniform, and Bathurst saw at once how much the bonds of
discipline had been relaxed. Both had leaned their muskets
against the wall ; one was squatted on the ground beside his


RU] UB, THE vaGLER. 287
There were indeed a considerable number of people near the
building: the fact that the white prisoners were within seemed
to exercise a fascination, and even women brought their chil-
dren and sat on the banks which marked where gardens had
once been, and talked of the white captives. Bathurst strolled
about among the groups of Sepoys and townspeople. The
former talked in loud tones of the little force that had already
started from Allahabad, and boasted how easily they would eat
up the Feringhees. It seemed, however, to Bathurst that a
good deal of this confidence was assumed, and that among some,
at least, there was an undercurrent of doubt and uneasiness,
though they talked as loudly and boldly as their companions.
The town people were of two classes; there were the bud-
mashes or roughs of the place, who uttered brutal and ferocious
jokes as to the probable fate of the white women. There were
others who kept in groups apart and talked in low voices.
These were the traders, to whom the events that had taken
place foreboded ruin. Already most of the shops had been
sacked, and many of the principal inhabitants murdered by the
mob. Those who had so far escaped, thanks in some instances
to the protection afforded them by Sepoy ofiicers, saw that their
trade was ruined, their best customers killed, and themselves
virtually at the mercy of the mob, who might again break out
upon the occasion of any excitement. These were silent when
Bathurst approached them. His attire, and the arms so osten-
tatioust displayed in his sash, marked him as one of the dan-
gerous class, perhaps a prisoner from the gaol whose doors
had been thrown open on the first night of the Sepoy rising.
For hours Bathurst remained in the neighbourhood of the
prison. The sun set, and the night came on. Then a small
party of soldiers came up and relieved the sentries. This time
the number of the sentries at the gate was doubled, and three
men were posted, one on each of the other sides of the building.
After seeing this done he returned to the house. After he had
finished his evening meal Rujub and Rabda came into the room.
“Now, Sahib,” the former said, “I think that we can tell
you how the lady is. Rabda has seen her, spoken to her,
and touched her; there is sympathy between them.” He
seated Rabda in a chair, placed his hand on her forehead, and
then drew the tips of his fingers several times slowly down
her face. Her eyes closed. He took up her hand, and let it
fall again. It was limp and impassive. Then he said authori-
tatively, “ Go to the prison.” He paused a moment.


288 RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
“Are you there T ”
“I am there,” she said.
“ Are you in the room where the ladies are?”
“I am there,” she repeated.
“Do you see the lady Hannay 2 ”
“ I see her.”
“How is she?”
“ She is lying quiet. The other young lady is sitting beside
her. The lower part of her face is bandaged up, but I can see
that she is not suffering as she was this morning. She looks
quiet and happy.”
“ Try and speak to her. Say, ‘Keep up your courage, we are
doing what we can.’ Speak, I order you.”
“ I have spoken.”
“Did she hear you '1 ”
“Yes. She has raised herself on her arm ; she is looking
round; she has asked the other young lady if she heard any-
thing. The other shakes her head. She heard my words, but
does not understand them.”
Rujub looked at Bathurst, who mechanically repeated the
message in English.
“Speak to her again. Tell her these words,” and Rujub
repeated the message in English.
“Does she hear you '4"
“ She hears me. She has clasped her hands, and is looking
round bewildered.”
“That will do. Now go outside into the yard ; what do you
see there 'I ”
“I see eight men sitting round a fire. One gets up and walks
to one of the grated windows, and looks in at the prisoners."
“ Is the door locked?”
“It is locked.”
“ Where is the key '1”
She was silent for some time.
“ Where is the key '! ” he repeated.
“ In the look," she said.
“Howmany soldiers are there in the guard-room by the gate?”
“There are no soldiers there. There are an officer and four
men outside, but none inside.”
“That will do,” and he passed his hand lightly across her
forehead.
“ Is it all true'l” Bathurst asked, as the juggler turned to him.
“Assuredly it is true, Sahib. Had I had my daughter with


RU] UB, THE jUGGLER; 289
me at Deennugghur, I could have sent you a message as easily ;
as it was, I had to trust only to the power of my mind upon
yours. The information is of use, Sahib.”
“It is indeed. It is a great thing to know that the key is
left in the lock, and also that at night there are the prison
keepers only inside the building.”
“Does she know what she has been doing?” he asked, as
Rabda languidly rose from her chair.
“No, Sahib, she knows nothing after she has recovered from
these trances.”
“I will watch to-morrow night,” Bathurst said, “and see at
What hour the sentries are relieved. It is evident that the
Sepoys are not trusted to enter the prison, which is left entirely
to the warders, the outside posts being furnished by some regi-
ment in the lines. It is important to know the exact hour at
which the changes are made, and perhaps you could find out
to-morrow, Rujub, who these warders are ; whether they are
permanently on duty, or are relieved once a day.”
“I will do that, Sahib; if they are changed, we may be able
to get at some of them.”
“I have no money,” Bathurst said ; “but
“ I have money, Sahib ; and if they can be bribed, will do it ;
our caste is a rich one. We sometimes receive large presents,
and we are everywhere made welcome. We have little need
of money. I am wealthy, and practise my art more because I
love it than for gain. There are few in the land that know the
secrets that I do. Men die without having sons to pass down
their knowledge; thus it is the number of those who possess
the secrets of the ancients grow smaller every day. There are
hundreds of jugglers, but very few who know, as I do, the
secrets of nature, and can control the spirits of the air. Did
I need greater wealth than I have, Rabda could discover for
me all the hidden treasures of India ; and I could obtain them,
guarded though they may be by djins and evil spirits.”
“Have you a son to come after you, Rujub? ”
“ Yes ; he is travelling in Persia, to confer with one or two
of the great ones there who still possess the knowledge of the
ancient magicians.”
“By the way, Rujub, I have not asked you how you got on
with the Nana.” '
“It was easy enough,” the juggler said. “He had lost all
interest in the affairs of Deennugghur, and greeted me at first
as if I had just returned from a journey. Then he remembered
a:
7)


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 29:
upon me. When a picture of the past is shown on the smoke,
it is not a past I know of, but which one of those present
knows. I cannot always say which among them may know it;
it is always a scene that has made a strong impression on the
mind, but more than that I do not know. As to those of the
future, I know even less; it is the work of the power of the
air, whose name I whisper to myself when I pour out the
incense, and to whom I pray. It is seldom that I show these
pictures; he gets angry it called upon too often. I never do
it unless I feel that he is propitious.”
“It is beyond me altogether, Rujub; I can understand your
power of sending messages, and of your daughter seeing at a
distance. I have heard of such things at home ; they are called
mesmerism and clairvoyance. It is an obscure art; but that
some men do possess the power of influencing others at a dis-
tance seems to be undoubted, still it is certainly never carried
to such perfection as I see it in your case.”
“It could not be,” Rujub said ; “ white men eat too much,
and it needs long fasting and mortification to fit a. man to
become a mystic ; the spirit gains power as the body weakens.
The Feringhees can make arms that shoot long distances, and
carriages, that travel faster than the fastest horse, and great
ships and machines. They can do many great and useful
things, but they cannot do the things that have been done
for thousands of years in the East. They are tied too fast to
the earth to have aught to do with the spirits that dwell in the
air. A learned Brahmin, who had studied your holy books,
told me that your great teacher said that if you had faith you
could move mountains. We could well-nigh do that if it were
of use to mankind; but were we to do so merely to show our
power, we should be struck dead. It is wrong even to tell you
these things ; I must say no more.”
Four days passed. Rujub went every day for some hours
to Bithoor, and told Bathurst that he heard that the British
force, of about fourteen hundred whites and five hundred Sikhs,
was pushing forward rapidly, making double marches each day.
“ The first fight will be near Futtehpore,” he said ; “there
are fifteen hundred Sepoys, as many Oude tribesmen, and five
hundred cavalry with twelve guns, and they are in a very
strong position, which the British can only reach by passing
along a road through a swamp. It is a position that the
officers say a thousand men could hold against ten thousand.”
“You will see that it will not delay our troops an hour,”


292 RUyUB, THE yUGGLER.
Bathurst said. “ Do they imagine they are going to beat us,
when the numbers are but two to one in their favour? If so,
they will soon learn that they are mistaken.”
The next afternoon, when Rujub returned, he said, “You
were right, Sahib; your people took Futtehpore after only
half an hour’s fighting. The accounts say that the Feringhees
came on like demons, and that they did not seem to mind our
firing in the slightest. The Nana is furious, but they still feel
confident that they will succeed in stopping the Feringhees at
Dong. They lost their twelve guns at Futtehpore, but they have
two heavy ones at the Pandoo Bridge, which sweep the straight
road leading to it for a mile; and the bridge has been mined,
and will be blown up if the Feringhees reach-it. But, never-
theless, the Nana swears that he will be revenged on the cap-
tives. If you are to rescue the lady it must be done to-night,
for to-morrow it may be too late.”
“ You surely do not think he will give orders for the murder
of the women and children 'I ”
“ I fear he will do so,” Rujub answered gloomily.
Each day Bathurst had learnt in the same manner as before
what was doing in the prison. Isobel was no longer being
nursed; she was assisting to nurse Mary Hunter, who had,
the day after Isobel was transferred to the prison, been attacked
by fever, and was the next day delirious. Rabda’s report of
the next two days left little doubt in Bathurst’s mind that she
was rapidly sinking. All the prisoners suffered greatly from
the close confinement ; many had died, and the girl’s descrip-
tion of the scenes she witnessed was often interrupted by her
sobs and tears.
CHAPTER XXI.
\VHILE Bathurst was busying himself completing his prepara-_
tions for the attempt, Rabda came in with her father.
“ My lord,” she said, “I tremble at the thought of your
venturing your life. My life is of no importance, and it be-
longs to you. What I would propose is this. My father
will go to Bithoor, and will obtain an order from one of the
Nana’s officers for a. lady of the Zenana to visit the prisoners.
I will go in veiled, as I was on the day I went there. I will
change garments with the lady, and she can come out veiled,
and meet you outside.”


:94 R0708, THE jUGGLER.
“You can come along now,” Rujub said; “he is fast asleep,
and there is no fear of his waking. He will sleep till I bid
him wake.”
They at once moved forward to the wall of the house.
Bathurst threw up a knotted rope, to which was attached a
large hook, carefully wrapt in flannel to prevent noise. After
three or four attempts it caught on the parapet. Bathurst at
once climbed up. As soon as he had gained the flat terrace,
Rujub followed him; they then pulled up the rope, to the
lower end of which a rope-ladder was attached, and fastened
this securely; then they went to the inner side of the terrace
and looked down on to the courtyard. Two men were standing
at one of the grated windows of the prison room, apparently
looking in ; six others were seated round a fire in the centre
of the court.
Bathurst was about to turn away when Rujub touched him
and pointed to the two men at the window, and then stretched
out his arms towards them. Presently they turned and left the
window, and in a leisurely way walked across the court and
entered a room where a light was burning close to the gate.
For two or three minutes Rujub stood in the same position,
then his arms dropped. _
“They have gone into the guard-room to sleep,” he said;
“ there are two less to trouble you.”
_ Then he turned towards the group of men by the fire and
fixed his gaze upon them. In a short time one of them
wrapped himself in his cloth and lay down. In five minutes
two others had followed his example. Another ten minutes
passed, and then Rujub turned to Bathurst and said, “ I cannot
affect the other three ; we cannot influence every one.”
“That will do, Rujub, it is my turn now.”
After a short search they found stairs leading down from
the terrace, and after passing through some empty rooms
reached a door opening into the courtyard.
“Do you stay here, Rujub,” Bathurst said. “They will
take me for one of themselves. If I succeed without noise, I
shall come this way; if not, we will go out through the gate,
and you had best leave by the way we came.”
The door was standing open, and Bathurst, grasping a heavy
tulwar, went out into the courtyard. Keeping close to the
house, he sauntered along until he reached the grated windows
of the prison room. Three lamps were burning within, to
enable the guard outside to watch the prisoners. He passed


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. :95
the two first windows 5 at the third a figure was standing. She
shrank back as Bathurst stopped before it.
“It is I, Miss Hannay—Bathurst. Danger threatens you,
and you must escape at once. Rabda is waiting for you outside.
Please go to the door and stand there until I open it. I have
no doubt that I shall succeed, but if anything should go wrong,
go and lie down again at once.”
Without waiting for an answer, he moved towards the fire.
“Is that you, Ahmed?” one of the warders said. “ \Ve all
seem sleepy this evening, there is something in the air ; I felt
half inclined to go ofl’ myself.”
“It is very hot to-night,” Bathurst replied.
There was something in his voice unfamiliar to the man,
and with an exclamation, “ Who is it 1 ” he sprang to his feet.
But Bathurst was now but three paces away, and with a bound
was upon him, bringing the tulwar down with such force upon
his head that the man fell lifeless without a groan. The other
two leapt up with shouts of “Treachery,” but Bathurst was
upon them, and, aided by the surprise, out both down after a
sharp fight of half a minute. Then he ran to the prison door,
turned the key in the lock, and opened it.
“Come,” he exclaimed, “there is no time to be lost, the
guards outside have taken the alarm,” for by this time there
was a furious knocking at the gate. “Wrap yourself up in
this native robe.”
“But the others, Mr. Bathurst, can’t you save them too i ”
“ Impossible," he said. “ Even if they got out, they would
be overtaken and killed at once. Come!” And taking her
hand, he led her to the gate.
“ Stand back here so that the gate will open on you,” he said.
Then he undid the bar, shouting, “ Treachery, the prisoners
are escaping.”
As he undid the last bolt the gate opened and the soldiers
rushed in, firing at random as they did so. Bathurst had
stepped behind the gate as it opened, and as the soldiers ran
up the yard he took Isobel’s hand, and, passing through the
gate, ran with her round the building until he reached the
spot where Rabda was awaiting them. Half a minute later
her father joined them.
“Let us go at once, there is no time for talking,” he
said. “We must be cautious, the firing will wake the whole
quarter; ” for by this time loud shouts were being raised, and
men, hearing the muskets fired, were running towards the gate.


296 RUj‘UB, THE jUGGLER.
Taking advantage of the shelter of the shrubbery as much as
they could, they hurried on until they issued into the open
country.
“ Do you feel strong enough to walk far? ” Bathurst asked,
speaking for the first time since they left the gate.
“I think so,” she said ; “ I am not sure whether I am awake
or dreaming.” ,
“You are awake, Miss Hannay; you are safe out of that
terrible prison.”
“I am not sure,” the girl said, speaking slowly ; “I have
been strange since I went there. I have seemed to hear voices
speaking to me, though no one was there, and no one else heard
them ; and I am not sure whether all this is not fancy now.”
“It is reality, Miss Hannay. Take my hand and you will
see that it is solid. The voices you heard were similar to those
I heard at Deennugghur; they were messages I sent you by
means of Rujub and his daughter."
“I did think of what you told me and about the juggler,
but it seemed so strange. I thought that my brain was turning
with trouble; it was bad enough at Deennuggh ur, but nothing
to what it has been since that dreadful day at Bithoor. There
did not seem much hope at Deennugghur. But somehow we
all kept up, and, desperate as it seemed, I don’t think we ever
quite despaired. You see, we all knew each other ; besides, no
one could give Way while the men were fighting and working
so hard for us; but at Cawnpore there seemed no hope. There
was not one woman there but had lost husband or father.
Most of them were indifferent to life, scarcely ever speaking,
and seeming to move in a dream, while others with children
sat holding them close to them as if they dreaded a. separation
at any moment. There were a few who were different, who
moved about and nursed the children and sick, and tried to com-
fort the others, just as Mrs. Hunter did at Deennugghur. There
was no crying and no lamenting. It would have been a relief if
any one had cried, it was the stillness that was so trying ; when
people talked to each other they did it in awhisper, as they do
in a room where some one is lying dead.
“ You know Mary Hunter died yesterday? Well, Mrs
Hunter quite put aside her own grief and tried to cheer others.
I told her the last message I received, and asked her to go with
me if it should be true. She said, ‘No, Isobel; I don’t know
whether this message is a dream, or whether God has opened
a way of escape for you—if so, may He be thanked ; but you


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 297
must go alone—one might escape where two could not. As
for me, I shall wait here for whatever fate God may send me.
My husband and my children have gone before me. I may do
some good among these poor creatures, and here I shall stay.
You are young and full of life, and have many happy days in
store for you. My race is nearly run——even did I wish for
life, I would not cumber you and your friends; there will be
perils to encounter and fatigues to be undergone. Had not
Mary left us I would have sent her with you, but God did not
will it so. G0, therefore, to the window, dear, as you were
told by this message you think you have received, but do not
be disappointed if no one comes. If it turns out true, and
there is a chance of escape, take it, dear, and may God be with
you.’ As I stood at the window, I could not go at once, as you
told me, to the door ; I had to stand there ,' I saw it all till you
turned and ran to the door, and then I came to meet you.”
“ It was a pity you saw it,” he said gently. .
“Why 2 Do you think that, after what I have gone through,
I was shocked at seeing you kill three of those wretches'l Two
months ago I suppose I should have thought it dreadful, but
those two months have changed us altogether. Think of what
we were then and what we are now. There remain only you,
Mrs. Hunter, myself, and your letter said, Mr. Wilson. Is
he the only one ’1 ”
“Yes, so far as we know.”
“Only we four, and all the others gone—Uncle and Mary and
Amy and the Doolans and the dear Doctor, all the children.
\Vhy, if the door had been open, and I had had a weapon, I
would have rushed out to help you kill. I shudder at myself
sometimes.”
After a pause she went on. “Then none of those in the
other boat came to shore, Mr. Bathurst, except Mr. Wilson '1 ”
“I fear not. The other boat sank directly. Wilson told
me it was sinking as he sprang over. You had better not talk
any more, Miss Hannay, for you are out of breath now, and
will need all your strength.”
“Yes, but tell me why you have taken me away; you said
there was great danger?”
“Our troops are coming up,” he said, “ and I had reason to
fear that when the rebels are defeated the mob may break
open the prison.”
“They surely could not murder women and children who
have done them no harm.”


300 RUj‘UB, THE jUGGLER.
distance away, and in the morning you will be able to enjoy
a wash.”
The neck was knocked off a bottle. Rabda had brought in
the basket a small silver cup, and Isobel, after drinking some
wine and eating a few mouthfuls of food, lay down by her and
was soon fast asleep. Bathurst ate a much more hearty meal.
Rujub and his daughter said that they did not want anything
before morning.
The sun was high before Bathurst woke. Rujub had lighted
a fire, and was boiling some rice in a lota.
“ \Vhere is Miss Hannay 'l” Bathurst asked, as he sat up.
“ She has gone down to the river with Rabda. The trees
hang down well over the water, and they can wash without
fear of being seen on the opposite shore. I was going to
wake you when the lady got up, but she made signs that you
were to be allowed to sleep on.”
In half an hour the two girls returned. Isobel was attired
in a native dress, and her face, neck, arms, feet, and ankles
had been stained to the same colour as Rabda’s. She came
forward a little timidly, for she felt strange and uncomfortable
in her scanty attire. Bathurst gave an exclamation of pain
as he saw her face.
“ How dreadfully you have burnt yourself, Miss Hannay ;
surely you cannot have followed the instructions I gave you.”
“No; it is not your fault at all, Mr. Bathurst ; I put a
great deal more on than you said, but I was so anxious to dis-
figure myself that I was determined to do it thoroughly ; but
it is nothing to what it was. As you see, my lips are getting
all right again, and the sores are a good deal better than
they were; I suppose they will leave scars, but that won’t
trouble me.” _
“It is the pain you must have suffered that I am thinking
of,” he replied. “ As to the scars, I hope they will wear out
in time; you must indeed have suffered horribly.”
“They burnt dreadfully for a time,” the girl answered ;
“but for the last two or three days I have hardly felt it,
though, of course, it is very sore still.”
“ Do you feel ready for breakfast, Miss Hannay 'I ”
“Quite ready, and for a walk as long as you like afterwards.
I feel quite another creature after my dip. That was one of the
worst things in the prison. We had scarcely water enough to
drink, and none to wash with, and, of course, no combs nor
anything.”


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 301
They sat down together and ate the cold food theyhad brought,
while Rabda. and her father made their breakfast of rice.
“What has become of Mr. Wilson 'I” Isobel asked suddenly.
“I wondered about him as I was being carried along last night,
but I was too tired to talk afterwards.”
“I hope he is either safe at Allahabad by this time, or is
with the troops marching up. The Zemindar’s son, who came
down with us as an escort, and one of his men, got safely to
shore also, and they went on with Wilson. \Vhen he found I
was going to stay at Cawnpore to try and rescue you, he pleaded
very hard that I should keep him with me in order that he
might share in the attempt, but his ignorance of the language
might have been fatal, and his being with me would have
greatly added to the difficulty, so I was obliged to refuse him.
It was only because I told him that instead of adding to, he
would lessen your chance of escape, that he consented to go, for
I am sure he would willingly have laid down his life to save
yours.”
“I am very glad he is safe; he is very kind-hearted and
nice, Mr. Bathurst, and a thoroughly natural, unaffected young
fellow, very loyal and staunch. I am quite sure he would have
done anything he could, even at the risk of his life.”
“ I like him very much too, Miss Hannay. Before the siege
I thought him a careless, happy-go-lucky lad, but as I got to
know him well, I found he was much more than that, and he
will make a good man and an excellent officer one of these days if
he is spared. He is thoroughly brave without the slightest brag
—an excellent specimen of the best class of public-school boy.”
“And who are the troops coming up, Mr. Bathurst? How
strong are they? I have heard nothing about them.”
“ About twelve hundred white troops and four or five hundred
Sikhs; at least that is what the natives put them,at.”
“But surely they will never be able to fight their way to
Cawnpore, where there are the mutineers and Nana Sahib's
troops and the Oude men and the people of the town. \Vhy,
there must be ten to one against them.”
“ Not far short of that, I think, but I feel sure our men will
do it. They know of the treachery of the Nana, they know
of the massacre by the river, and they know that the women
and children are prisoners in his hands, and do you think that
men who know these things can be beaten? The Sepoys met
them in superior force and in a strong position at Futtehpore,
and they drove them before them like chaff. They will have


302 RUJ'UB, THE yUGGLER.
harder work next time, but I have no shadow of fear of the
result."
Then their talk went back to Deennugghur and of their
friends there—the Doolans, the Hunters, the Rintouls and
others—and Isobel wept freely over their fate.
“Next to my uncle I shall miss the Doctor,” she said.
“He was an awfully good fellow,” Bathurst said, “ and was
the only real friend I have had since I came to India. I would
have done anything for him.”
“ \Vhen shall we start?” Isobel asked presently.
“Directly the sun goes down a little. You would find it
terribly hot new. I have been talking it over with Rujub,
and he says it is better not to make a long journey to-day.
\Ve are not more than twenty miles from Dong, and it would
not do to move in that direction until we know how things
have gone ; therefore, if we start at three o’clock and walk till
seven or eight, it will be quite far enough.”
“He seems a wonderful man,” said Isobel. “You remem-
ber that talk we had at dinner, before we went to see him at
the Hunters.”
“Yes,” he said. “As you know, I was a believer then,
and so was the Doctor. I need not say that I believe still
more now, that these men do wholly unaccountable feats. He
put the sentry outside the walls of your prison and five out
of your eight warders so sound asleep that they did not wake
during the struggle I had with the others. That, of course,
was mesmerism. His messages to you were actually sent by
means of his daughter. She was put in a sort of trance, in
which she saw you and told us what you were doing, and com-
municated the message her father gave her to you. He could
not send you a message nor tell me about you when you were
first at Bithoor, because he said Rabda was not in sympathy
with you, but after she had seen you and touched you, and
you had kissed her, she was able to do so. There does not
appear to me to be anything beyond the powers of nature in
that, though doubtless powers were called into play of which
at present we know nothing. But we do know that minds act
upon each other. Possibly certain person in sympathy with
each other may be able to act upon each other from a distance,
especially when thrown into the sort of trance which isknown
as the clairvoyant state. I always used to look upon that as
humbug, but I needhardly sayI shall in future be ready to believe
almost anything. He professes to have other and even greater


RUj'UB, THE j’UGGLER. 303
powers than what we have seen. At any rate, he can have no
motive in deceiving me when he has risked his life to help me.
Do you know Rabda offered to go into the prison—her father
could have got her an order to pass in—and then to let you go
out in her dress while she remained in your stead. I could not
accept the sacrifice even to save you, and I was sure had I done
so you yourself would have refused to leave.”
“ Of course. But how good of her. Please tell her that you
have told me, and how grateful I am for her offer.”
Bathurst called Rabda, who was sitting a short distance
away.
She took the hand that Isobel held out to her and placed it
against her forehead.
“My life is yours, Sahib,” she said simply to Bathurst.
“It was right that I should give it for this lady you love."
“What does she say 7” Isobel asked.
“She says that she owed me her life for that tiger business,
you know, and was ready to give it for you because I had set
my mind on saving you.”
“Is that what she really said, Mr. Bathurst?” Isobel
asked quietly, for he had hesitated a little in changing its
wording.
“That was the sense of it, I can assure you. Not only was
she ready to make the sacrifice, but her father consented to
her doing so. These Hindoos are capable of gratitude, you
see. There are not many English who would be ready thus to
sacrifice themselves for a man who had accidentally, as I may
sa ', saved their lives.”
“Not accidentally, Mr. Bathurst. Why do you always try
to run yourself down? I suppose you will say next you saved
my life by an accident.”
“The saving of your life is due chiefly to these natives.”
“ But they were only your instruments, Mr. Bathurst ; they
had no interest in saving me. You had bought their services
at the risk of your life, and in saving me they were paying
that debt to you. ”
_ At three o’clock they prepared for the start. Bathurst had
exchanged the warder’s dress for one of a peasant, which they
had brought with them. The wood was of no great width,
and Rujub said they had better follow the road now.
“No one will suspect us of being anything but what we
seem,” he said. “Should we meet any peasants, their talk
will be with you and me. They will ask no questions about


304 R0703, THE 7UGGLER.
the women ; but if there is a woman among them, and she
speaks, Rabda will answer her.”
For hours they had heard dull sounds in the air, which
Bathurst had recognised at once as distant artillery, showing
that the fight was going on near Dong.
“The Sepoys are making a stout resistance, or the firing
would not last so long,” he said to Rujub, as they walked
through the wood towards the road.
“They have two positions to defend, Sahib. The Nana’s
men will fight first at a strong village two miles beyond Dong ;
if they are beaten there, they will fight again at the bridge I
told you of.”
“That would partly account for it; but the Sepoys must be
fighting much better than they did at Futtehpore, for there,
as you said, the white troops swept the Sepoys before them.”
\Vhen they reached the edge of the wood, Bathurst said, “ I
will see that the road is clear before we go out. If any one
saw us issuing out of the wood they might wonder what we
had been after.”
He went to the edge of the bushes and looked down the
long straight road. There was only a solitary figure in
sight. It seemed to be an old man walking lame with a stick.
Bathurst was about to turn and tell the others to come out,
when he saw the man stop suddenly, turn round to look back
along the road, stand with his head bent as if listening, then
run across the road with much more agility than he had before
seemed to possess, and plunge in among the trees.
“Wait,” he said to those behind him, “something is going
on. A peasant I saw in the road has suddenly dived into the
wood as if he was afraid of being pursued. Ah ! ” be ex-
claimed a minute later, “there is a party of horsemen coming
along at a gallop—get farther back into the wood.”
Presently they heard the rapid trampling of horses, and
looking through the bushes they saw some twenty sowars of
one of the native cavalry regiments dash past.
Bathurst went to the edge of the wood again, and looked
out. Then he turned suddenly to Isobel.
“You remember those pictures on the smoke?” he said
excitedly.
“ No, I do not remember them,” she said, in surprise. “ I
have often wondered at it, but I have never been able to recol-
lect what they were since that evening. I have often thought
they were just like dreams, where one sees everything just as










“i’f‘i' s; . i
'- i - f? “Magma?
Rushing forward, she threw her arms round his neck.


RUleB, THE jUGGLER. 305
plainly as if it were a reality, and then go out of your mind
altogether as soon as you are awake.”
“It has been just the same with me,” replied Bathurst,
“ except that once or twice they have come back for a moment
quite vividly. One of them I have not thought of for some
days, but now I see it again. Don’t you remember there was
a wood, and a Hindoo man and woman stepped out of it, and
a third native came up to them ’l”
“ Yes, I remember now,” she said eagerly; “it was just as
we are here 5 but what of that, Mr. Bathurst?”
“ Did you recognise any of them 7”
“Yes, yes, it all comes back to me now. It was you and
the Doctor, certainly, and I thought the woman was myself.
I spoke to the Doctor next day about it, but he laughed at it
all, and I have never thought of it since.”
“ The Doctor and I agreed, when we talked it over that
evening, that the Hindoo who stepped out of the wood was
myself, and thought that you were the Hindoo girl, but of that
we were not so sure, for your face seemed not only darkened,
but blotched and altered—it was just as you are now—and
the third native was the Doctor himself; we both felt certain
of that. It has come true, and I feel absolutely certain that the
native I saw along the road will turn out to be the Doctor. ”
“ Oh, I hope so, I hope so,” the girl cried, and pressed
forward with Bathurst to the edge of the wood.
The old native was coming along on the road again. As he
approached, his eye fell on the two figures, and with a Hindoo
salutation he was passing on, when Isobel cried, “It is the
Doctor," and rushing forward she threw her arms round his
neck.
“ Isobel Hannay l ” he cried in delight and amazement;
“my dear little girl, my dear little girl, thank God you are
saved ; but what have you been doing with yourself, and who
is this with you?”
“You knew me when you saw me in the picture on the
smoke, Doctor,” Bathurst said, grasping his hand, “though
you do not know me in life.”
“You, too, Bathurst,” the Doctor exclaimed, as he wrung
his hand ; “ thank God for that, my dear boy; to think that
both of you should have been saved—it seems a miracle. The
picture on the smoke. Yes, we were speaking of it that last
night at Deennugghur, and I never have thought of it since.
Is there any one else ? ”
U


R0703, THE jUGGLER. 307
“ We were just going to push on, Doctor ; but as you have had
a good long tramp already, we will stop here until tomorrow
morning, if you like.” ‘
“ No, no, let us go on, Bathurst. I would rather be on the
move, and you can tell me your story as we go.”
CHAPTER XXII.
BATHURST knew the Doctor well, and perceived that glad as
he was to have met them, he was yet profoundly depressed in
spirits. This, added to the fact that he had left Cawnpore that
morning, instead of waiting as he had intended, convinced
Bathurst that what he dreaded had taken place. He waited
until Isobel stopped for a moment, that Rabda might rearrange
the cloth folded round her in its proper draping. Then he said
quickly, “I heard yesterday what was intended, Doctor. Is
it possible that it has been done 'I ”
“ It was done this morning.”
“ What, all? Surely not all, Doctor 1 ”
“Every soul—every woman and child. Think of it—the
fiends! the devils! The native brought me the news. If I
had heard it in the streets of Cawnpore I should have gone
mad and seized a sword and run amuck. As it was, I was
well-nigh out of my mind. I could not stay there. The man
would have sheltered me until the troops came up, but I was
obliged to be moving, so I started down. Hushl here comes
Isobel; we must keep it from her."
“Now, Isobel,” he went on, as the girl joined them, and they
all started along the road, “tell me how it is I find you here.”
“Mr. Bathurst must tell you, Doctor ; I cannot talk about
it yet—I can hardly think about it.”
“ \Vell, Bathurst, let us hear it from you.”
“It is a painful story for me to have to tell.”
Isobel looked up in surprise.
“Painful, Mr. Bathurst? I should have thought—” and
she stopped.
“Not all painful, Miss Hannay, but in parts. I would
rather tell you, Doctor, when we have finished our journey
this evening, if your curiosity will allow you to wait so long.”
“I will try to wait,” the Doctor replied, “though I own it
is a trial. Now, Isobel, you have not told me yet what has


310 R07 UB, THE jUGGLER.
It is done and over. There is an end of it. Now I will tell
you the story.”
The Doctor listened silently until he heard of Isobel’s being
taken to Bithoor. “ The atrocious villain,” he exclaimed. “I
have been lamenting the last month that I never poisoned the
fellow, and now—but go on, go on. How on earth did you get
her away '1 ”
Bathurst told the whole story, interrupted by many ex-
clamations of approval by the Doctor; especially when he
learnt why Isobel disfigured herself.
“ Well done,” he exclaimed ; “ I always knew that she was
a plucky girl, and it needed courage, I can tell you, to burn
herself as she has done, to say nothing of risking spoiling her
beauty for life. No slight sacrifice for a woman.”
Bathurst passed lightly over his fight in the courtyard, but
the Doctor questioned him as to the exact facts.
“Not so bad for a coward, Bathurst,” he said drily.
“There was no noise,” Bathurst said; “if they had had
pistols, and had used them, it might have been difi'erent.
Heaven knows, but I don’t think that then, with her life at
stake, I should have fiinched ; I had made up my mind they
would have pistols, but I hope—I think that my nerves would
not have given way then."
“ I am sure they wouldn’t, Bathurst. Well, go on with your
story.”
“ Well, how did you feel them?" he asked, when Bathurst
described how the guard rushed in through the gate firing,
“ for it is the noise, and not the danger, that upsets you 1 ”
“I did not even think of it,” Bathurst said, in some sur-
prise. “ Now you mention it, I am astonished that I was not
for a minute paralysed, as I always am, but I did not feel
anything of the' sort; they rushed in firing as I told you,
and directly they had gone I took her hand and we ran out
together."
“ I think it quite possible, Bathurst, that your nervousness
may have gone for ever. Now that once you have heard guns
fired close to you without your nerves giving way as usual,
it is quite possible that you might do so again. I don’t say
that you would, but it is possible, indeed it seems to me to be
probable. It may be that the sudden shock when you jumped
into the water, acting upon your nerves when in a state of
extreme tension, may have set them right, and that bullet-
graze along the top of the skull may have aided the efiect


316 RU} UB, THE yUGGLER.
“But what could he have done, Doctor 'I ”
“That’s what I ask him, my dear. He insists that he ought
to either have seized you and jumped overboard with you, in
which case you would both probably have been killed, as I
pointed out to him, or else stayed quietly with you by your
side, in which case, as I also pointed out to him, you would
have had the satisfaction of seeing him murdered. He could
not deny that this would have been so, but that in no way
alters his opinion of his own conduct. I also ventured to point
out to him that if he had been killed, you would at this moment
be either in the power of that villainous Nana, or be with
hundreds of others in that ghastly well at Cawnpore. I also
observed to him that I, who do not regard myself as a. coward,
also jumped overboard from your boat, and that Wilson, who
is certainly a plucky young fellow, and a number of others,
jumped over frrm the other boat ,' but I might as well have
talked to a post.”
Isobel sat for some time silent, her fingers playing nervously
with each other.
“ Of course it seems foolish of him to think of it so strongly,
but I don’t think it is unnatural he should feel as he does.”
“May I ask why 'I ” the Doctor said sarcastically.
“I mean, Doctor, it would be foolish of other people, but I
don’t think it is foolish of him. Of course he could have done
no good staying in the boat—he would have simply thrown
away his life; and yet I think, I feel sure, that there are many
men who would have thrown away their lives in such a. case.
Even at that moment of terror I felt a. pang, when, without a
word, he sprang overboard. I thought of it many times that
long night, in spite of my grief for my uncle and the others, and
my horror of being a prisoner in the hands of the Sepoys. I
did not blame him, because I knew how he must have felt, and
that it was done in a. moment of panic. I was not so sorry for
myself as for him, for I knew that if he escaped, the thought
of that moment would be terrible for him. I need not say that
in my mind the feeling that he should not have left me so, has
been wiped out a thousand times by what he did afterwards,
by the risk he ran for me, and the infinite service he rendered me
by saving me from a fate worse than death. But I can enter
into his feelings. Most men would have jumped over just as he
did, and would never have blamed themselves even if they had
at once started away down the country to save their own lives,
much less if they had stopped to save mine as he has done.


318 R0703, THE jUGGLER.
village three miles on the other side of the town, and were in
communication with the disaffected. It was decided at once by
the officer who had succeeded General Neil in the coTnmand of
the fort, that a small party of fifty infantry, accompanied by
' ten or twelve mounted volunteers, should go out and attack
them. Bathurst sent in his name to form one of the party as
soon as he learned the news, borrowing the horse of an ofiicer
who was laid up ill.
The expedition started two hours before daybreak, and
making a long detour, fell upon the Sepoys at seven o’clock.
The latter, who had received news half an hour before of their
approach, made a stand, relying on their cannon. The infantry,
however, moved forward in skirmishing order, their fire quickly
silenced the guns, and they then rushed forward while the
little troop of volunteers charged.
The fight lasted but a few minutes, at the end of which time
the enemy galloped off in all directions, leaving their guns in
the hands of the victors. Four of the infantry had been killed
by the explosion of a well-aimed shell, and five of the volunteers
were wounded in the hand-to-hand fight with the sowars. The
Sepoys’ guns and artillery horses had been captured.
The party at once set out on their return. On their way
they had some skirmishing with the rabble of the town, who
had heard the firing, but they were beaten off Without much
difficulty, and the victors re-entered the fort in triumph. The
Doctor was at the gate as they came in. Bathurst sprang
from his horse and held out his hand. His radiant face told
its own story.
“Thank God, Doctor, it has passed. I don’t think my
pulse went a beat faster when the guns opened on us, and the
crackle of our own musketry had no more effect. I think it
has gone for ever.” .
“I am glad indeed, Bathurst,” the Doctor said, warmly
grasping his hand. “ I hoped that it might be so.”
“ N 0 words can express how grateful I feel,” Bathurst said.
“The cloud that shadowed my life seems lifted, and hence-
forth I shall be able to look a man in the face.”
“ You are wounded, I see," the Doctor said.
“Yes, I had a pistol ball through my left arm. I fancy
the bone is broken, but that is of no consequence.”
“ A broken arm is no trifle,” the Doctor said, “ especially in
a climate like this. Come into the hospital at once and let
me see to it.”


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 319
One of the bones of the forearm was indeed broken, and
the Doctor, having applied splints and bandages, peremptorin
ordered him to lie down. Bathurst protested that he was
perfectly able to get up with his arm in a sling.
“ I know you are able,” the Doctor said testin ; “but if you
were to go about in this oven, we should very likely have you
in a high fever by to-morrow morning. Keep yourself per-
fectly quiet for to-day ; by to-morrow, if you have no signs
of fever, and the wound is doing well, we will see about it.”
Upon leaving him, Dr. Wade went out and heard the details
of the fight.
“Your friend, Bathurst, particularly distinguished him-
self,” the ofiEicer who commanded the volunteers said. “ He
cut down the ressaldar who commanded the Sepoys, and was
in the thick of it. I saw him run one sowar through and
shoot another. I am not surprised at his fighting so well
after what you have gone through in Deenugghur and in that
Cawnpore business.”
The Doctor then went up to see Isobel. She looked flushed
and excited.
“Is it true, Doctor, that Mr. Bathurst went out with the
volunteers, and that he is wounded.”
“Both items are true, my dear. Fortunately the wound
is not serious. A ball has broken the small bone of the left
forearm, but I don’t think it will lay him up for long; in
fact, he objects strongly to go to bed.”
“But how did he-how is it he went out to fight, Doctor?
I could'bardly believe it when I was told, though of course'I
did not say so.”
“ My dear, it was an experiment. He told me that he did
not feel at all nerVous when the Sepoys rushed in at the
gate firing when he was walking 0E with you, and it struck
me that possibly the sudden shock and the jump into the
water when they attacked the boats, and that rap on the
head with a musket-ball, might have affected his nervous
system, and that he was altogether cured, so he was deter-
mined on the first occasion to try.”
“And did it, Doctor?” Isobel asked eagerly. "-I don’t
care, you know, one bit whether he is nervous when there is a.
noise or not, but for his sake I should be glad to know that he
has got over it; it has made him so unhappy.”
“He has got over it, my dear; he went through the fight
without feeling the least nervous, and distinguished himself


32° RU} UB, THE j‘UGGLER.
very much in the charge, as the officer who commanded his
troop has just told me.’ ’
“Oh, I am glad—I am thankful, Doctor; no words can say
how pleased I am ; I know that it would have made his whole
life unhappy, and I should have always had the thought that
he remembered those hateful words of mine.”
“I am as glad as you are, Isobel, though I fancy it will
change our plans.”
“How change our plans, Doctor? I did not know that I
had any plans.”
“I think you had, child, though you might 'not acknowledge
them even to yourself. My plan was that you should somehow
convince him that, in spite of what you said, and in spite of his
leaving you in that boat, you were quite content to take him
for better or for worse."
“ How could I tell him that l” the girl said, colouring.
“Well, I think you would have had to do so somehow, my
dear, but that is not the question now. My plan was, that when
you had succeeded in doing this you should marry him and go
home with him.” '
“But why, Doctor,” she asked, colouring even more hotly
than before, “is the plan changed 1 ”
“Because, my dear, I don’t think Bathurst will go home
with you.”
“Why not, Doctor?" she asked, in surprise.
“Because, my dear, he will want, in the first place, to re-
habilitate himself.”
“But no one knows, Doctor, about the siege and what
happened there, except you and I and Mr. Wilson; all the
rest have gone.”
“That is true, my dear, but he will want to rehabilitate
himself in his own eyes ; and besides that former affair, which
first set you against him, might crop up at any time. Other
civilians, many of them, have volunteered in the service, and
no man of courage would like to go away as long as things are
in their present state. You will see Bathurst will stay.”
Isobel was silent.
“I think he will be right,” she said at last gravely; “if he
wishes to do so, I should not try to dissuade him ; it would be
very hard to know that he is in danger, but no harder for me
than for others.”
“That is right, my dear,” the Doctor said affectionately;
“ I should not wish my little girl—and now the Major has gone


RUj’UB, THE jUGGLER. 327
and valuable set of jewellery, with a slip of paper on which
were the words, “ From Rabda."
The Doctor was in high spirits at the breakfast to which
everybody sat down directly after the wedding. In the first
place, his greatest wish was gratified; and in the second, he
was about to start to take part in the work of retribution.
“One would think you were just starting on a pleasure
party, Doctor,” Isobel said.
“ It is worth all the pleasure parties in the world, my dear.
I have always been a hunter, and this time it is human ‘ tigers '
I am going in pursuit of ; besides which,” he said, in a quieter
tone, “ I hope I am going to cure as well as kill. I shall only be
a soldier when I am not wanted as a doctor. A man who really
loves his profession, as I do, is always glad to exercise it, and
I fear I shall haVe ample opportunities that way ; besides,
dear, there is nothing like being cheerful upon an occasion of
this kind. The longer we laugh, the less time there is for
tears.”
And so the party did not break up until it was nearly time
for the little troop to start. Then there was a brief passionate
parting, and the volunteer horse rode away to Cawnpore.
Almost the first person they met as they rode into the British
lines was Wilson, who gave a shout of joy at seeing the Doctor
and Bathurst.
“ My dear Bathurst !” he exclaimed. “ Then you got safely
down. Did you rescue Miss Hannay?”
“ I had that good fortune, Wilson.”
“ I am glad. I am glad,” the young fellow said, shaking his
hand violently, while the tears stood in his eyes. “ I know you
were right in sending me away, but I have regretted it ever
since. I know I should have been no good, but it seemed such
a mean thing for me to go off by myself. Well, Doctor, and
so you got off too,” he went on, turning from Bathurst and
wringing the Doctor’s hand; “I never even hoped that you
escaped. I made sure that it was only we two. I have had
an awful time of it since we heard the news, on the way up,
of the massacre of the women. I had great faith in Bathurst,
and knew that if anything could be done he would do it, but
when I saw the place they had been shut up in, it did not seem
really possible that he could have got any one out of it. And
where did you leave Miss Hannay 'l”
“We have not left her at all,” the Doctor said gravely;
“there is no longer a Miss Hannay. There, man, don’t look


328 . RUjUB, THE jUGGLER.
so shocked. She changed her name on the morning we came
away.”
“ What I ” Wilson exclaimed. “ Is she Mrs. Bathurst ’I
I am glad, Bathurst. Shake hands again; I felt sure that if
you did rescue her, that was what would come of it. I was
almost certain by her way when I talked to her about you
one day that she liked you. I was awfully spoony on her
myself, you know, but I knew it was no use, and I would
rather byalot that she married you than any one else I know.
But come along into my tent; you know your troop and ours
are going to be joined. We have lost pretty near half our
fellows, either in the fights coming up or by sunstroke or fever
since we came here. I got hold of some fizz in the bazaar
yesterday, and I am sure you must be thirsty. This is a
splendid business; I don’t know that I ever felt so glad of
anything in my life,” and he dragged them away to his
tent.
Bathurst found, to his disappointment, that intense as was
the desire to push forward to Lucknow, the general opinion
was that the General would not venture to risk his little force
in an operation that, with the means at his disposal, seemed
well-nigh impossible. Cholera had made considerable ravages,
and he had but fifteen hundred bayonets at his disposal. All
that could be done pending the arrival of reinforcements was
to prepare the way for an advance, and show so bold a front
that the enemy would be forced to draw a large force from
Lucknow to oppose his advance.
A bridge of boats was thrown across the Ganges, and the force
crossed the river and advanced to Onao, eight miles on the road
to Lucknow. Here the enemy, strongly posted, barred the
way; but they were attacked, and, after hard fighting, defeated,
with a loss of three hundred men and fifteen guns.
In this fight the volunteer horse, who had been formed into
a single troop, did good service. One of their two officers was
killed ; and as the party last up from Allahabad were all full of
Bathurst’s rescue of Miss Hannay from Cawnpore, and Wilson
and the Doctor influenced the others, he was chosen to fill the
vacancy.
There were two other fierce fights out at Busserutgunge, and
then Bathurst had the satisfaction of advancing with the column
against Bithoor. Here again the enemy fought sturdily, but
were defeated with great slaughter, and the Nana’s palace was
destroyed.


RU} UB, THE jUGGLER. 329
When, after the arrival of Outram with reinforcements, the
column set out for Lucknow, the volunteers did not accompany
them, as they would have been useless in street fighting, and
were therefore detailed to form part of the little force left at
Cawnpore to hold the city and check the rebels, parties of
whom were swarming round it.
The oflicer in command of the troop died of cholera a few
daysiafter Havelock’s column started up, and Bathurst suc-
ceeded him. The work was very arduous, the men being almost
constantly in their saddles, and having frequent encounters
with the enemy. They were again much disappointed at being
left behind when Sir Colin Campbell advanced to the relief of
Havelock and the garrison, but did more than their share of
fighting in the desperate struggle when the mutineers of the
Gwallior contingent- attacked the force at Cawnpore during the
absence of the relieving column. Here they were almost
annihilated in a desperate charge which saved the 64th from
being cut to pieces at the most critical moment of the fight.
Wilson came out of the struggle with the loss of his left arm,
and two or three serious wounds. He had been cut off and
surrounded, and was falling from his horse when Bathurst cut
his way to his rescue, and lifting him into his saddle before
him, succeeded after desperate fighting in carrying him off,
himself receiving several wounds, none of which, however, were
severe. The action had been noticed, and Bathurst’s name was
sent in for the Victoria Cross. As the troop had dwindled to
a dozen sabres, he applied to Sir Colin Campbell, whose column
had arrived in time to save the force at Cawnpore and to defeat
the enemy, to be attached to a regiment as a volunteer. The
General, however, at once offered him a post as an extra aide-
de-camp to himself, as his perfect knowledge of the language
would render him of great use ; and he gladly accepted the
offer.
\Vith the column returning from Lucknow was the Doctor.
“ By the way, Bathurst,” he said, on the evening of his
return, “I met an old acquaintance in Lucknow; you would
never guess who it was—Forster.”
“You don’t say so, Doctor. ”
“ Yes ; it seems he was hotly pursued, but managed to shake
the sowars ofli At that time the garrison was not so closely
besieged as it afterwards was. He knew the country well,
and made his way across it until within sight of Lucknow.
At night he rode right through the rebels, swam the river,


RUjUB, THE jUGGLER. 331
after the fight at Cawnpore. A fortnight after the conclusion
of that terrible struggle, Sir Colin Campbell announced to
Bathurst that amongst the despatches that he had received from
home that morning was a Gazette, in which his name appeared
among those to whom the Victoria Cross had been granted.
“ I congratulate you heartily, Mr. Bathurst,” the old oflicer
said ; “ I have had the pleasure of speaking in the highest terms
of the bravery you displayed in carrying my message through
heavy fire a score of times during the late operations.”
Great as the honour of the Victoria Cross always is, to
Bathurst it was much more than to other men. It was his
rehabilitation. He need never fear now that his courage would
be questioned, and the report that he had before left the army
because he lacked courage would be for ever silenced now
that he could write v.0. after his name. The pleasure of
Dr. Wade and Wilson was scarcely less than his own. The
latter’s regiment had sufi’ered very heavily in the struggle at
Lucknow, and he came out of it a captain, having escaped
without a wound.
A week later Bathurst resigned his appointment. There
was still much to be done, and months of marching and fight-
ing before the rebellion was quite stamped out ; but there had
now arrived a force ample to overcome all opposition, and there
was no longer a necessity for the service of civilians. As he
had already left the service of the Company, he was his own
master, and therefore started at once for Calcutta.
“I shall not be long before I follow you,” the Doctor said,
as they spent their last evening together. “ I shall wait and
see this out, ard then retire. I should have liked to have
gone home with you, but it is out of the question. Our hands
are full, and likely to be so for some time, so I must stop.”
Bathurst stopped for a day at Patna to see Rujub and his
daughter. He was-received as an expected guest, and after
spending a few hours with them he continued his journey.
At Calcutta he found a letter awaiting him from Isobel, saying
that she had arrived safely in England, and should stay with
her mother until his arrival, and there he found her.
“ I expected you to-day,” she said, after the first rapturous
greeting was over. “ Six weeks ago I woke in the middle
of the night, and heard Rabda’s voice distinctly say—“ He has
been with us to-day ; he is safe and well; he is on his way to
you.’ ’ As I knew how long you would take going down from
Patna, I went the next day to the office and found what steamer


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TWO-SHILLING Novass—continued,
By R. ASHE KING.
A Drawn Game. Passion’s Slave.
“The Wearing of t e Green.”
Bell Barrv.
By JOIIN LEYS.
The Lindsays.
By E. LYNN lilN'l‘flN.
Patricia Kemball. Paston Carew.
World Well Lost. “My Love!”
Underwhich Lord? lone.
The Atonement of Leam Dundas.
With a Silken Thread.
The Rebel of the Family.
Sowing the Wind.
By lllflNBY ‘1’. LUCY.
Gideon Fleyce.
By .I US'l‘lN lilcCA R'I‘II Y.
A Fair Saxon. Donna Quixote.
Linley Rochford. Maid of Athens.
Miss Misanthrope. Camiola.
Dear Lady Disdain.
The Waterdale Neighbours.
My Enemy’s Daughter.
The Comet of a Season.
By IIUGII lilAllCOLL.
Mr. Stranger’s Sealed Packet.
By AGNES RIACDONELI“
Quaker Cousins.
KATHARINE S. RIACQUOID.
The Evil Eye. I Lost Rose. -
By \V. H. MALLOCK.
The New Republic.
By ELOBENCE MABBYAT.
Open! Sesame! I Fighting the Air.
A Harvest of Wild Oats.
Written in Fire.
By .I. MASTERMAN.
Haifa-dozen Daughters.
By BBANDER lilATTllE “’S.
A Secret of the Sea.
By LEGDNABI) MERBICK.
The Man who was Good.
By JEAN MIDDLEIVIASS.
Touch and Go. | Mr. Dorillion.
By Mrs. iiI()I.ES\VOR'l‘lI.
Hathercourt Rectory.
By .I. E. MUDDOCK.
Stories Weird and Wonderful.
The Dead Man’s Secret.
From the Bosom oi’ the Deep.
Bv D. CIIRISTIE M UBBAY.
A Model Father. Old Blazer’s Hero.
Joseph’s Coat. Hearts.
Goals of Fire. Way of the World.
Yal Strange. Cynic Fortune.
A Life’s Atonement.
By the Gate of the Sea.
A Bit of Human Nature.
First Person Singular.
“y ZVIUBRA\ and HERMAN.
One Traveller Returns.
Paul Jones’s Alias.
The Bishops’ Bible.
By IIENBY BII’RRAY.
A Game of Bluff.
By llUl'lE NISBET.
“ Bail Up 1” R
Dr. Bernard St. Vincent.
‘ By ALICE (D’IIANIAMV.
The Unforeseen. lChance? or Fate?
» .-




TWO-SHILLING NovELs—continued.
By GEORGES ollNE'l'.
Doctor Rameau.
A Weird Gift.
A Last Love.
By lilrs. 0 LIP IIANT.
Whiteiadies.
| The Primrose Path.
The Greatest Heiress in England.
By l'lrs. ROBERT O'BEILIJK.
Phoeba’s Fortunes.
By 0UIDA.
Held in Bondage. Two Little Wooden
Strathmore. Shoes.
Chandos. Friendship.
Under Two Flags. Moths.
ldalia. Plpistrello.
CecilCastlemaine’s A Village Com-
Gage. mune.
Tricotrin. Bimbi.
Puck. Wanda.
Folle F ine. Frescoes.
A Dogo Flanders. In Maremmfi
Pascarel. Othmar.
Signa. Guilderoy.
Princess Naprax- Rui'flno.
ine. Syrlin.
In a Winter City. Ouida’s Wisdon,
Ariadne.
Wit, and Path »s.
lVlARGARET AG NE S PA UL.
Gentle and Simple.
By JAlYlES PAYN.
Bentinck’s Tutor.
Murphy’s Master.
A County Family.
At Her Mercy.
Cecil’s Tryst.
Clyfl’ards of Clyffe.
Foster Brothers.
Found Dead.
Best of Husbands.
Walter’s Word.
Halves.
Fallen Fortunes.
Humorous Stories.
£200 Reward.
Marine Residence.
Mirk Abbey.
By Proxy.
Under One Roof.
High Spirits.
Carlyon’s Year.
From Exile.
For Cash Only.
Kit.
The Canon’s Ward
Talk of the Town.
Holiday Tasks.
Lost Sir Masslngberd.
A Perfect Treasure.
A Woman’s Vengeance.
The Family Scapegrace. ‘
What He Cost Her.
Gwendoline’s Harvest.
Like Father, Like Son.
Married Beneath Hirr.
Not Wooed, but Won.
Less Black than We’re Painted.
A Confidential Agent.
Some Private Views.
A Grape from a Thorn.
Glow-worm Tales.
The Mystery of Mirbridge.
The Burnt Million.
The Word and the Will.
A Prince of the Blood.
Sunny Stories.
By U. L. Pllfil‘ls.
Lady Lovelace.
By EDGAR A. P08.
The Mystery of Marie Roget.
By lilrs. CAlYll’BEIJ. PBAED,
The Romance of a Station.
The Soul of Countess Adrian.
By E. (‘1 J‘s
Valentina.
Mrs. Lancaster’s R
The Foreigners.
val. 1 Gerald.