It soon spread through the little garrison that Gordon and Haidee had determined to remain behind. No opposition was offered to this determination. They both were free agents, and at liberty to act upon their own responsibility; but not a few of the people looked upon it as a foolhardy step, and thought that they were running unnecessary risk. As the sun sprang up in the heavens--for in the Indian climate it may truly be said to spring up--the sounds of a bugle broke upon the morning air; it was the signal for the sentries to come in, and for the garrison to arouse. The sounds of that bugle revivified the hopes that had all but died in the poor crushed hearts. As the weary people gathered themselves together, those notes were like the kindly voice of a friend calling them to rest, and telling them that their trials were over. Alas! they little dreamt that it sounded their death-knell. If some pitying angel had but whispered to them never to stir beyond the mud walls of their defences, what soul-wrung anguish they might have been spared; but it is written that man shall suffer. The doom of those poor creatures was not yet fulfilled, and they must go forth. Again the bugle sounded; this time for the march. Then the barriers were withdrawn, and forth from the defences they had so heroically held went the people. A tattered and torn British ensign, nailed to a bamboo staff, was carried at the head of the procession. The black demons, who swarmed around in thousands, might insult that flag, they might spit upon it, trample it into the dust, but they could never quell the dauntless courage of the lion hearts who owned its sway. The ragged flag flaunted proudly in the breeze, and the ragged crew, each of their pouches filled with sixty rounds of ammunition, and bearing on their shoulders their guns with fixed bayonets that flashed in the sunlight, straggled on. Haidee and Gordon had concealed themselves in an outbuilding--it was simply a heap of ruined brickwork, for it had been battered to pieces with the enemy’s grape; but the fact of its being in ruins was in their favour, as they were less likely to be discovered by intruders. In about half an hour the last of the garrison had departed, and the entrenchments were left to silence and the dead. CHAPTER XXIV. “SHIVA THE DESTROYER.” Close to the Suttee Choura Ghaut, the place at which the garrison were to embark, there rose a Hindoo temple; it was known as the Hurdes, or the Fisherman’s Temple. It stood upon the banks of the Ganges, and its shadows darkened the water. Many a religious festival had been held within its walls, and many a pious Hindoo fisherman had come from afar, that he might fall down before the god it enshrined, and invoke a blessing upon himself and his calling. But on the morning that the English people went forth from their defences, it was devoted to a far different purpose.