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
"Of course," he went on, "if you are suddenly told that you are to be
given to any one, you must slip out at once, and come here. You will
find everything ready for you to disguise yourself, and you must do
that at once, and wait here till one of us comes. Even if you are
missed, it will be some time before any search is made, and it would
be thought much more likely that you had gone down into the town, than
that you were hiding in the Palace, so there would be no chance of
their looking for you here before we return. Anyhow, we shall be able
to have another talk before Tippoo comes back. We shall be here every
morning until nine, and if you are able to get away again, come and
see us.
"It will be better, perhaps, for you not to wait any longer, now. I
suppose you have been charged with some message or other, and it would
not do for you to be too long gone."
The girl stood up at once.
"I have to go down to the Pettah, to get some sewing silk to match
this;" and she drew out a small fragment of yellow silk.
"Very well, then. You had better go and do it, or they may think that
you are too long away.
"Goodbye, Annie. I hope that in another week, or ten days at the
latest, I shall have you out of this;" and he held out his hand to
her.
She took it timidly, and would have raised it to her forehead, but
Dick said, laughing:
"That is not the way, Annie. English girls don't treat their friends
as if they were lords and masters. They just shake hands with them, as
if it were two men, or two girls."
"I shall know better, in time," she said, with a faint smile, though
her eyes were full of tears. "I want to do something, though I don't
know what. You saved my life from the tiger, and now you are going to
save me again. I should like to throw myself down, and kiss your
feet."
"You would make me horribly uncomfortable, if you did anything of the
sort, Annie. I can understand that you feel strange and out of your
element, at present, but you will soon get over that, when you come to
know me better.
"There, goodbye, lassie. I hope to see you again, tomorrow or next
day, and then you will be able to tell me more about yourself.
"Is the coast clear, Surajah?"
Surajah looked out through the curtains.
"There is no one in sight," he said, a moment later.
The girl passed silently out, and went down the corridor. Surajah
returned from his post by the door.
"The poor girl is shy and awkward, as yet," Dick said, "but I think
she will be plucky enough, when the time comes. You heard what we
said. The first thing will be to get her disguise ready for her. What
do you think? Had we better take Ibrahim with us? I think he is to be
trusted."
"I am sure he is," Surajah agreed. "He is a Hindoo of Coorg, and was
carried away as a slave, six years ago. In the first place, he will be
delighted at the prospect of getting away; and in the next, I am sure
that he is very fond of you. But there is no occasion to tell him that
you are English."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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