The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo SaibHenty, G. A. (George Alfred)
History
The Tiger of Mysore: A Story of the War with Tippoo Saib
Henty, G. A. (George Alfred)
India -- History -- Mysore War, 1799 -- Fiction; Tipu Sultan, Fath 'Ali, Nawab of Mysore, 1753-1799 -- Juvenile fiction
"Well, either he or I will be standing at my door. It is as well that
you should look carefully round, before you enter, so as to be sure
there is no one in the corridor, and that you can slip in unobserved.
You may be sure that I am asking you to come for no idle freak, but
because I have something very important to say to you.
"I fancy I hear footsteps. Good night."
Dick was sure that he and Surajah would both be at liberty next day,
for Tippoo had that morning started for Bangalore, where a large
number of men were at work, repairing the fortifications and removing
all signs of the British occupation from the fort and palace. He was
likely to be away for at least a fortnight. As soon as Ibrahim had
swept the room, after their early breakfast, Dick gave him a number of
small commissions to be executed in the town, and told him that he
should not require him again until it was time to bring up their meal
from the kitchen. Then he and Surajah, by turns, watched at the door.
An hour later Surajah, who was upon the watch, said:
"The girl is coming."
There was no one else in sight, and when Surajah beckoned to her, she
hurried on, and, passing through the curtains at the door, entered the
room. It had been arranged that Surajah should remain on watch, so
that should, by any chance, one of the officials of their acquaintance
come along, he might go out and talk with him in the corridor, and, on
some excuse or other, prevent his entering the room, if he showed any
intention of doing so.
"Now, in the first place," Dick said, as he led the girl to the divan
and seated her there, "what is your name?"
"My name is Goorla."
"No; I mean your proper name?"
"My name used to be Annie--Annie Mansfield, Bahador."
"And my name is Dick Holland," he said, in English.
She gave a start of surprise.
"Yes, Annie, I am a countryman of yours."
She looked at him almost incredulously, and then an expression of
aversion succeeded that of confidence in her face. She sprang from the
divan, and drew herself up indignantly.
"Please let me go," she said haughtily. "You have saved my life, but
if you had saved it twenty times, I could not like a man who is a
deserter!"
Dick had at first been speechless with astonishment at the girl's
change of manner, and at her reception of the news he had thought
would have been very pleasant to her. As her last words threw a light
upon the matter, he burst into a merry laugh.
"I am no deserter, Annie. Save my friend at the door and yourself,
there is no one here who knows that I am English. Sit down again, and
I will tell you how I come to be here.
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.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account