India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
"Nothing much, I expect. Some man on guard fooling with his rifle let it
off by accident," he said quietly. "Excuse me. I'd better stroll across
to the Fort and see."
But Mrs. Dermot stopped him.
"Wait a moment please, Mr. Wargrave," she said, running into the house.
She returned immediately with her husband's big automatic pistol and
handed it to him. In her left hand she held a smaller one. "Take this
with you. It's loaded," she said.
Frank thanked her, said goodnight to both calmly, and walked down the
garden path; but the anxious women heard him running swiftly across the
parade ground.
"What is it, Noreen? What does it mean?" asked the girl nervously.
"A sepoy running amuck, I'm afraid," replied her friend. "He's shot
someone----."
She swung round, pistol raised.
"_Kohn hai_? (Who's that?)" she called out.
A man had come noiselessly on to the shadowed end of the verandah.
"It is I, _mem-sahib_," answered Sher Afzul, her Punjaubi Mahommedan
butler. He had been in her service for five years and was devoted to her
and hers. He was carrying a rifle, for his master at his request had
long ago given him arms to protect his _mem-sahib_. Before her marriage
he had once fought almost to the death to defend her when her brother's
bungalow had been attacked by rebels during a rising.
"It would be well to go into the house and put out the lights,
_mem-sahib_," he said quietly in Hindustani. "There is danger to-night."
As he spoke he extinguished the lamp on the verandah and closed the
doors of the house. A second armed servant came quietly on to the
verandah and the butler melted into the darkness of the garden; but they
heard him go to the gate as if to guard it.
"You had better go inside, Muriel," said Mrs. Dermot, but made no move
to do so herself.
The girl did not appear to hear her. She was listening intently for any
sound from the Fort. But silence had fallen on it.
"Muriel, won't you go into the house?" repeated her hostess.
"Eh? What? No, I couldn't. I must stay here," replied Miss Benson
impatiently. In the black darkness the other woman could not see her;
but she felt that the girl's every sense was alert and strained to the
utmost. She moved to her and put her arm about her. Against it she could
feel Muriel's heart beating violently.
Suddenly from the Fort came the noise of heavy blows and a crash,
instantly followed by a shot and then fierce cries.
"Oh, my God! What is happening?" murmured the girl, her hand on her
heart.
Presently there came the sound of running feet, and heavy boots
clattered up the rocky road towards the Mess past the gate.
Then the butler's voice rang out in challenge:
"_Kohn jatha_? (Who goes there?)"
A panting voice answered:
"Wargrave Sahib _murgya_. Doctor Sahib _ko bulana ko jatha_"--(Wargrave
Sahib is killed. I go to call the Doctor Sahib)--and the sepoy ran on in
the darkness.
"O God! O God!" cried the girl, and tried to break from her friend's
clasp. "Let me go! Let me go!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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