Draw Swords! Part 51

"Wyatt!"

"Yes; it was all as real as could be, only there was no lightning. But I seemed to dimly make out a n.i.g.g.e.r's legs kicking about at the top of the window, and then getting to the side and coming down till he glided over the sill on to the floor. Then I seemed to hear the sitting-room door open, and heard him go through."

"How strange!" said d.i.c.k.

"Yes; just a repet.i.tion of your bit of experience, lad."

"But didn't you jump out of bed and follow?"

"Don't I tell you I was asleep? Of course it wasn't real. The peculiar state of mind I was in, from going off instead of keeping awake to shut the window when the room grew cool, set me dreaming it all, I suppose; and, after what seemed to be a very long time, made me wake up in a tremendous perspiration and spring off the bed to fasten the window."

"It's very queer," said d.i.c.k. "Now, do you know, I--"

"Yes, you told me," said Wyatt, interrupting him hastily; "only that isn't all. I went back and sat on the edge of the charpoy, feeling regularly puzzled. I was still half asleep, and there seemed to be no doubt about my having dreamed it all, but I couldn't settle it all in my mind, and before lying down I felt obliged to go across the room and see if the door was shut."

"Yes," said d.i.c.k eagerly; "and of course it was?"

"No," said Wyatt; "it was open."

"You left it open when you went to bed for coolness."

"I could swear I did not," said Wyatt. "It stuck a little, warped by the heat, and I remember perfectly lifting it to get it close."

d.i.c.k was silent.

"Now tell me this," continued Wyatt. "Was the sitting-room window shut when we went to bed?"

"Yes: I'm sure of that," said d.i.c.k, "because I went and looked out, and longed to leave it open."

"You shut it?"

"You saw me do it when we came to bed."

"I did. Well, I found it wide open."

"Ah!" cried d.i.c.k excitedly, "then it was not a dream. You saw it all in your sleep. He came in at your window and went out by the sitting-room, and the tulwar has gone."

"No," said Wyatt slowly: "the tulwar hangs where we put it, quite safe.

I thought that, and went to see before I woke you."

"How strange! Then it must have been a dream after all. One minute.

Is there any explanation of it? Could it have been the servants?"

"No; they are both fast asleep."

"Then what can it mean?" said d.i.c.k.

"I don't know, unless you've been walking in your sleep and opened the windows."

_Bang_!

The sentry at the gate had fired his carbine.

_Bang_! and then _bang_! The alarm was taken up by the sentries on the roof, and the two officers seized their weapons and, clad only, as they were, in their silken pyjamas, ran down into the yard. The guard had turned out, and all was hurry and excitement, for that soul-stirring cry which sends a thrill through the stoutest when raised in the dead of night brought d.i.c.k's heart to his mouth.

For the cry was, "Fire, fire!" and Wyatt exclaimed hoa.r.s.ely, "Quick, my lads--quick! the magazine!"

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

THE WORK OF THE ENEMY.

A rush was made for the ground-floor of the palace opposite to the stables, where some kind of firework was hissing and spitting fiercely, and as the men ran there was a blinding flash by the door of the place used as an ammunition-store, just as if some powder had been thrown there and the sparks had set it alight.

"Forward, my lads, before it gets worse," shouted Wyatt.--"Darrell, lad, you must risk it," he cried; "we can't leave them to perish. Up with you, and bring out Hulton and the doctor."

A strange feeling of dread ran through the young officer, for the instinct was strong upon him to run for his life and escape by the gate before the native fuse, which had been placed at the bottom of the magazine door, should do its deadly work of causing an explosion and bringing that side of the old building tottering down.

But education was stronger than instinct. It was the master. Before the lad's eyes were his brother-officer and the men of the troop following; Sergeant Stubbs was carrying the keys, rushing right up to the magazine door--right, as it were, into the fire and the explosion which must occur; and nearly overhead was the room occupied by Hulton and the doctor.

d.i.c.k Darrell could not help his thoughts nor his natural instincts, whichever way they might lead. He had his duty to do as a soldier, and he neither hesitated nor shrank, but rushed forward to perform his task, meeting the two sentries, who had come hurrying down from the roof.

The next minute he was ascending the stairs leading to the officers'

quarters, reaching the broad corridor and the way into their sitting-room, thinking that it was a pity for that beautiful tulwar to be destroyed, when he fell over somebody on to some one else, sending a thrill of horror through his nerves as he heard deep groans.

"Who is it?" he cried.

A bright flash which came through the open door and window showed him the two servants, with their white cotton garments deeply stained with blood; while, as he gathered himself up, he found that something wet and warm had soaked his own thin silken garments, and his hands felt sticky.

The chill of horror came again. The two servants stabbed at the door; and not many yards farther lay Hulton's room. Had he and the doctor been a.s.sa.s.sinated too?

Pity would have deterred him--duty urged him on; and the recollection of the terrible danger below, driven from his brain for the moment, came back as he dashed on, just as the door was thrown open and Hulton and the doctor hurried out.

"Who's that? You, Darrell? What is it?"

"Fire--the magazine. Quick, for your lives!"

They hurried down the corridor, momentarily expecting the floor to open with the roar and red rush of an explosion; but they paused to seize the two men lying by the sitting-room door, and among them dragged them to the head of the stairs, and then to the bottom and out into the yard, where, as soon as they were in safety, d.i.c.k left the wounded with the doctor, and ran to where, in the midst of thick smoke, axe-blows were falling upon the entrance to the magazine.

For the perpetrator of the diabolical outrage had done his work cunningly and well. Several small patches of loose powder must have been arranged about the bottom of the door, and the great keyhole plugged with it, before the fuse was rammed in and ignited, attracting the attention of the guard.

It was perilous work, for, in the effort to tear out the fuse from where it had been jammed, it broke up, and this caused the first explosion, which had destroyed the lock, others immediately following in spite of the way in which buckets of water had been dashed down.

The men worked with fierce energy to hack out the lock, in the desperate effort to get the door open before some fragment of the fuse or spark, driven in by one of the little explosions, should act upon the bags and kegs of powder and ready-filled cartridges within. Each blow, too, that was struck with the axe might, they well knew, strike off sparks, which would increase the peril. But they did not shrink, one man taking up the axe as another tired, till, just as d.i.c.k ran up, there was a loud cheer, for the door was flung open, revealing the bright sparks emitted by something smouldering within; and, even as the door was thrown wide, the puff of air finished what was going on. For, as two men rushed in together, there was a faint report, followed by another and another, and pieces of shattered, smouldering paper were thrown about the place.

The men outside involuntarily drew back as they realised that a box of carbine cartridges had been started by a spark. But the men within seized the box, and sent those which were left flying out into the yard, where another one or two exploded, as, in the midst of a dense smoke, the two brave fellows within sought for and threw out every sc.r.a.p of smouldering cartridge-case, some of which were in close proximity to the flannel powder-bags of the six-pounder guns.

This work was done in momentary expectation of one of the kegs starting the general destruction; but the gallant effort saved the place, and, hot and panting, blind almost with smoke, the two men staggered out at last, to be met with a roaring cheer.