Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the EastFenn, George Manville
General
Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the East
Fenn, George Manville
Great Britain. Army -- Colonial forces -- India -- Juvenile fiction; Young men -- Juvenile fiction
The noise he made, though, was greater as he drew the rope round the
projection which held it above, and I caught his wrist in horror as we
stood there in the darkness, he pulling and I twisting the rope round
and round my chest.
"Don't," I whispered; "some one will hear."
"But we must have the rope, sahib, to get down from the top of the
wall," he said; and he pulled away at the line more quickly, the end
falling directly after with a sharp crushing sound among the bushes.
This had evidently been heard, for a lanthorn rapidly approached us out
of the darkness, and as we crouched down, the face of a man could be
seen at last, with the eyes flashing as he held up his light.
But, as is the case on a dark night, the man who bears a light is far
easier to see than the one who watches or hides, and I crouched there,
wondering at last, as the man held up his lanthorn nearly over me, why
it was that he could not detect my presence.
But he did not, and after looking carefully round, he turned and walked
away, just where, had he taken a couple or so steps nearer to the
palace, he would have come in contact with one of us.
"Saved!" I breathed to myself, as he walked away, and his light
disappeared among the trees.
"The rope, sahib," whispered Dost; and I rapidly drew it up and twisted
it round me.
"Now your hand," he said; and as I gave it to him, he led me cautiously
in and out among the trees, avoiding the men easily enough, for their
lanthorns showed exactly the direction in which they were going, though,
had a few been about without lights, we must have been taken! It was
slow work, and, as we crept along, the moving lights behind the windows
and the shouts and commands that came made me aware that a careful
search was being made for me, and, moment by moment, our chance of
escape appeared more hopeless.
But Dost did not seem to be in the slightest degree troubled. He kept
on right through the grounds toward where lights flitted about in the
window of a building, and he whispered--
"They are searching it, sahib. When they have done, we will go there."
I felt hopeless, but kept on close to his side, thinking all the time
that we must be taken before long.
Just now the capture was imminent, for men approached us, but in every
case something took off their attention, and we reached the great
building, to find it now all dark, as if the search there was at an end,
and the place deserted.
Dost uttered a low grunt of satisfaction, and crept softly along beneath
the windows; but we came upon no door, only reaching a blank stone wall
at the end of the building, and having to retrace our steps to where we
started, and then go in the other direction.
Here we were more fortunate, coming upon a door, and entering the
building, which was evidently a kind of summer-house, but of a very
substantial character.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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