India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
"But I know of a place on the other side of the village where there are
notches in the wall, by which I might mount; and, the wall scaled, I
could steal my way to the shed and maybe cut a hole and lay a train, and
so fire the powder that lies there for our destruction."
"You could never get over the wall unspied," said the old man; "and if
they catch you, you are dead."
"But the place where I can scale the wall will be in darkness when the
moon shines on the tower. If it is to be done it must be done before the
moon has crept round, for as soon as the tower door is in darkness be
sure they will set about their purpose."
Ahmed was deaf to all entreaties, and about an hour before the earliest
moment when the besiegers might be expected to begin their operations,
he was let down by a rope from a window overlooking the wall, this side
being in deep shadow. Having reached the ground, he stole along at the
foot of the wall until he came to a spot some little distance away where
he believed the notches to be. They had not been made intentionally, but
were due to the crumbling of the clay of which the wall was made, and
had not been filled up. He found them without difficulty, the outer side
of the wall being at this point partially illuminated, while the inner
side, in the shadow of the houses, was dark. Pausing a moment to make
sure that all was quiet within, he set his bare foot in the lowest
notch, and, aiding himself with his hands, heaved himself slowly up.
When his head was just below the top of the wall, he waited again,
listening intently for sounds of movement or speech within the village.
All was quiet in the immediate neighbourhood, though voices came faintly
to his ear from the direction of the tower. He raised his head and
peered over: nothing was to be seen; then with a final heave he rolled
himself over the top, hung by his hands for a moment or two until his
feet found a hollow to rest in, and then as quickly as might be made the
descent, dropping the last six feet and alighting noiselessly on his
bare soles.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account