The Great White Hand; Or, the Tiger of Cawnpore: A story of the Indian MutinyMuddock, J. E. (Joyce Emmerson)
History
The Great White Hand; Or, the Tiger of Cawnpore: A story of the Indian Mutiny
Muddock, J. E. (Joyce Emmerson)
Anglo-Indian fiction; India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction; Kanpur (India) -- Fiction
“Alas, no! I dreamt that your friend Harper was lying cold and
dead--that he had died for the want of help and care, and I was not
there to administer comfort to him.”
“But you know, Haidee, we say that dreams always go by the contrary,”
Gordon answered, trying to force a smile; but it was but a melancholy
attempt, for he knew that his words belied the thoughts of his heart.
“Perhaps so,” she said, sighing heavily. “Fortune has favoured him so
far that she might still continue to smile upon him. But then he was
weak from his illness, and the risks he would have to run before he
could get clear of this city were numerous and great.”
“True; but we will not despair. We have all stood in deadly peril,
and yet we live; and this dawning day brings us relief from our
tribulation.”
“I am not so sure of that,” she answered, hurriedly.
“What do you mean, Haidee? Has not the Nana promised us safe escort to
Allahabad?”
“He has promised--yes.”
“Your words have a ring of doubt in them, as though you had no faith in
the Nana’s promise.”
“I have no faith. I fear treachery.”
“Your fear is surely a groundless one, then. The capitulation has been
put into black and white; and however bad the Nana Sahib may be, he is
bound to recognise those usages of war common to every civilisation.”
“I tell you I have strange forebodings of evil. I believe the man’s
nature to be cruel enough for anything.”
“Hush! Haidee! Do not let your words reach the ears of our
fellow-sufferers, or they will only cause unnecessary alarm.”
“I have no desire to be a prophet of evil, but I believe it would have
been better to have held out until every ounce of powder had gone
rather than have trusted to the mercy of the Nana Sahib. However, your
people shall go, and as they depart I will waft my good wishes after
them.”
“Waft your good wishes after them! Really, Haidee, you are talking
strangely, and as if you did not intend to go.”
“I do not intend to go.”
“Why?” he asked, quite unable to conceal his astonishment.
“Because for me to go would be to go to certain death. Even if I
escaped recognition by the Nana--which would be almost impossible, for
he knows me well, having often seen me at the Palace--my nationality
would condemn me; there would scarcely be a native whose arm would not
be raised to strike me down.”
“But the protection which Nana Sahib is bound to afford to us, in
accordance with the terms of treaty, must likewise be extended to you.”
“I tell you, you do not know these men. In my case they would be bound
by no terms. They would say that I had been treacherous to the King,
and, not being a British subject, my life was forfeited. Not that I
fear death. But for the sake of him who is dearer far to me than life,
I must try and live, that I may serve his friends--if that is possible.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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