Draw Swords! Part 52

"Water--quick--water!" cried one of the pair in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "I'm choking."

"Are you hurt, Wyatt?" cried d.i.c.k, catching him by the arm.

"Fingers a bit scorched, lad, and my pyjamas ruined; but never mind--_we've_ won. Here, who was working with me in the dark there?"

cried Wyatt. "He saved the place, and he must be burned. Here, who are you--why don't you speak, my lad?"

The lantern was cautiously brought forward and held by Sergeant Stubbs up over the blackened face and singed hair of one of the privates.

"Why, it's Bob Hanson, sir."

"Hanson!" cried Wyatt, stepping forward to gaze wonderingly in his companion's face. "Then shake hands, my lad; you and I were never so close to death before."

A low murmur indicative of the satisfaction felt by all present rose on the night air, d.i.c.k feeling a thrill of pleasure at this public acknowledgment of Hanson's bravery. He, the man for whom the intercession had been made which saved him from the most degrading punishment that could be inflicted.

But it was a time for action, and while Stubbs was set to the duty of once more making the ammunition secure, Wyatt and d.i.c.k went to work to try and trace out everything possible regarding this horrible attempt to destroy their means of offence and defence.

"You see, we have been on the wrong tack, d.i.c.k," said Wyatt in a low voice as they stood together. "The scoundrel who did all this was not after my tulwar each time, but had planned striking a terrible blow at our prestige, for we should make a poor show without our gains."

"He must have reached the roof somehow," said d.i.c.k.

"But why come through our rooms?"

"Because it is probably the only way down into the courtyard. He could not attempt the stairs on account of the sentries."

"It must be some one who knows the place and all about our arrangements."

"Yes," said d.i.c.k; "but come and let's question the doctor's patients."

"The doctor's patient? What would Hulton know?"

"No, no; his fresh patients--the two servants."

"What! do you think they were in it?"

"They were in it, certainly," said d.i.c.k sadly. "The poor fellows were badly stabbed."

"But I saw them sleeping before I came to you."

"Yes; but I found them both lying outside the door weltering in their blood. I have an idea--but come along."

They pa.s.sed together to where the men were lying freshly bandaged by the doctor, Ram Dad being sensible and able to explain what had happened.

"A dacoit, sahibs," he said firmly. "Come up by the stairs, and we tried to stop him; but he was naked and covered with oil, and, though we tried hard to hold him, he struck us both with his knife, and ran through the room, to climb up the side of the window and on to the top."

"Hah!" cried Wyatt. "Then he may still be there. Come and have the upper terrace searched."

This was carefully done by a dozen men despatched in different directions, every possible hiding-place being examined by the aid of the lanterns, without result. It was evident that the marauder could not have descended without help in the shape of a rope, for to have dropped from the parapet meant death; and, wearied out at last with searching and conjecture, the task was given up and the men dismissed.

"d.i.c.k," said Wyatt at last, "we must have a traitor in our midst."

"I have been thinking that," was the reply; "but we have not a single man with us that was not brought, or it would be an easy task to find out who is the enemy. The servants would not help."

"I would not trust them," said Wyatt bitterly. "We are their masters, and, to them, foreigners and enemies to their faith, which they know well enough we hold in contempt."

"Perhaps so," said d.i.c.k; "but it seems hard upon them to talk like this.

We were ready to suspect them before, and we found two of them cruelly stabbed in our defence."

"Yes, old fellow, as you nearly were the other night. d.i.c.k, d.i.c.k, old lad, that was an escape! Well, there, I will not believe it of any one we have in quarters if you can give me a plausible suggestion for thinking otherwise."

d.i.c.k was silent, and his companion stood waiting. "Well, what are you thinking?" he said. "Have you an idea?"

"Just the shadow of one," said d.i.c.k thoughtfully; "but give me time.

Let's do what there is to do, and then go and wash and change. I'm horrible with blood."

"And I with gunpowder," said Wyatt. "Well, there is nothing more to do.

We shall have no further attack to-night; the sentries are doubled, and we may as well try for a bit of sleep. This is my delicious night's rest!"

"Yes, it horrible."

"We'll go and see the wounded again, and then look how Stubbs has managed, and go to our room."

The doctor said that the two servants were badly hurt, but not dangerously, and he and Hulton were going to stay and watch them till morning. Wyatt protested but Hulton was firm. "Let me have my own way," he said. "I can be of use over this, and I've been of little enough lately."

So the two officers went down to the yard, visiting posts on their way, and upon reaching the room used as a magazine, it was to find that Stubbs and a squad of gunners had moved everything to an inner chamber on the ground-floor, where it would be far more difficult for an attack to be made.

Stubbs was just locking up as Wyatt and d.i.c.k approached, and triumphantly showed them the key.

"It's just under Mr Darrell's bedchamber, gentlemen," he said; "but I suppose he won't mind."

"Oh, no; not at all," said d.i.c.k, with a queer smile, which looked to be absolutely without mirth. "Only," he added, "I should not have chosen my sleeping-place there."

"I didn't think of it, sir, till I'd got nearly everything in; but I'll see what we can do to-morrow."

"No," said Wyatt shortly, and to d.i.c.k's great discomposure; "it is a capital place for it, Stubbs, and it shall stay.--But there are two ways of looking at such things, Darrell," he continued. "I'll be hanged if I'm going to sleep over a powder-magazine that our enemies are trying to blow up, and I certainly won't let you."

"Enemies, sir!" said Stubbs. "Then you feel that it is the work of the enemy?"

"Certainly, Stubbs," replied Wyatt; "and of some one high in power."

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

"HOT BOILED BEANS."

It was about half-an-hour later that, after a refreshing wash, the two officers sat together, partly dressed, talking in the room where the tulwar still hung, and with the pleasant knowledge that if, after all, a smouldering cartridge-cover had been accidentally taken into the fresh magazine, they might at any moment be blown up piecemeal.

"Yes, it is a nice idea," said Wyatt in reply to a remark made by d.i.c.k.