The Native Born; or, the Rajah's People Part 49

"They can not go alone."

Nehal Singh laughed sneeringly.

"It is not your lives that I seek. Go with your women. No harm shall be done you. Make good your escape, for I swear that after midnight I shall lead my people against their enemies, and he who falls into their hands need not hope for mercy."

"And I also swear an oath, Rajah Nehal Singh! Not one of us will leave Marut. The men will remain at their posts, and the women will stand by them."

"You are throwing away your lives."

"They will not be thrown away. They will prove at least that I have not boasted."

For an instant the two men watched each other in momentous silence, as two wrestlers each seeking to measure the other's strength. Then Nehal Singh raised his hand in dismissal.

"It is well, Englishman. If you have not indeed boasted, we shall meet again."

"We shall meet again, Rajah Sahib."

Nicholson swung round on his heel. The crowd behind him fell back, and with a rapid step, neither glancing to the right nor left, he strode out of the temple into the fading sunshine. His horse was still held in waiting, and he mounted instantly. Erect in his saddle, he faced the frowning mult.i.tude, then rode forward, as he had come, without haste, holding their pa.s.sions in check by his own high, fearless bearing.

The highroad was empty as he pa.s.sed through the gates. The enemy lay behind. He set spurs to his horse and galloped headlong toward Marut.

CHAPTER VIII

FACE TO FACE

Mrs. Carmichael turned up the light with a steady hand. Her gaunt, harsh features were expressionless.

"Well, what news, Captain Nicholson?" she said. "You can say it outright. I am not afraid." She turned as she spoke and looked around her. "Are your nerves strong enough, Mrs. Berry? If not, pull yourself together. We can only die once, and there's nothing to whimper about."

Mrs. Berry, who sat cowering in the corner of the sofa, lifted her grey face. The clumsy lips tried to move, but no sound came forth except an inarticulate murmur. Mrs. Carmichael shrugged her shoulders as one does at an irresponsible child. "Well?" she repeated.

Nicholson came farther into the room, so that he stood within the circle of lamp-light. In a rapid glance he had taken in the occupants, and their att.i.tudes were to him what symptoms are to a quick-sighted doctor. Mrs. Cary sat in an arm-chair, bolt upright, her hands clasped before her, her small eyes fixed straight ahead. Beatrice stood at her side, almost in an att.i.tude of protection, pale, but otherwise calm and apparently indifferent. As he had entered, Lois had been preparing some food at a side table. She now came closer, and her dark, serious eyes rested penetratingly on his face, so that he felt that, even if he had thought of deceiving them as to the true state of affairs, it would have been in vain as far as she was concerned. As for Mrs.

Carmichael, she stood in her favorite position--her arms akimbo, her chin tilted at an angle which lent her whole expression something bulldog and defiant. The atmosphere of danger with which the little drawing-room was filled acted differently upon each temperament, but upon this typical soldier's wife the effect was to arouse in her all the primitive pa.s.sions, the fighting instinct, the love of struggle against heavy odds.

"Come!" she exclaimed, as Nicholson still remained silent. "Do you think, because one or two of us are a bit 'nervy', that we are really afraid? Not in the least. For my part, if I've got to die, I shall take good care that one or two of those black heathen come with me!"

She flung open a drawer, and, taking out a revolver, thumped it energetically upon the table. "Now then, Captain!"

"My dear lady, I never doubted your courage," Nicholson answered, "and my news is not so hopeless as you suppose. I spoke with Nehal Singh."

He saw Beatrice start and glance in his direction with an expression of sudden suspense in her fine eyes. "What he said left me no option.

There could be no idea of coming to terms. At the same time it seems that he has no desire for a general ma.s.sacre. His sole ambition is to drive us out of the country. He has given us till midnight to escape--those who want to."

"Does he think we are going to be got rid of as easily as that?" Mrs.

Carmichael broke in. "Do you think that I have forgotten those months when George was fighting around Marut? Do you think I have forgotten all the fine fellows that laid down their lives to take the place and put an end to the disgrace of being held at bay by a horde of heathen?

And now we are to run away like sheep? Not if George listens to me!"

"You need have no fear," Nicholson answered. "Not a man of us is going to leave Marut alive. But you ladies--"

"Well, what about us 'ladies'?" in a tone as though the description had been an insult.

"I have just told you--Nehal Singh gives you till midnight to get away."

Mrs. Carmichael snapped her lips together in a straight, uncompromising line.

"Very much obliged to His Highness, I'm sure, but I stay with the regiment," she said.

Nicholson could not repress a smile at this description of her husband, but there was something more than amus.e.m.e.nt in his brightening eyes.

"Thank you, Mrs. Carmichael, I knew that would be your answer. But it is my duty to ask the others--to give them their choice. There is little hope for those who remain." He could not bring himself to turn to the cowering figure upon the sofa. There is a shame which is not personal, and he was pa.s.sionately ashamed for that quivering bulk of fear, for that greedy hope which he felt rather than saw creep up into the livid face. He looked at Lois. Her head was lifted and the fiery enthusiasm which spoke out of every line of the small dark face transformed her from a saddened woman back to the girl who never played a losing game but she won it, point by point, by pluck and daring.

"If I shan't be a bother, I wish to stay with you all," she said with studied simplicity. But her tone was eloquent.

"A brave comrade is always welcome," he answered. "Your husband--" He hesitated, and then concluded in a low voice: "Your husband offered to go with you. He is waiting outside with the horses." He avoided her eyes, but her tone betrayed to him the pain that he had unwillingly caused her.

"Please tell Archie that I will not let him sacrifice himself for me.

I know that he will wish to remain, and I, too, wish to remain. We are all English, and who knows how little or how much we are all to blame for this disaster? We must share it together."

Something like a sigh of relief pa.s.sed Nicholson's compressed lips, but he said nothing. In duty bound, he dared not offer encouragement nor plead for the fulfillment of his hopes. With mixed feelings he turned to Beatrice. Possessed as he now was of all the details of her conduct, he could not but lay at her door the consequences of a frivolous and heartless action. But her pitiless self-denunciation at the meeting, her present quiet and dignity, subdued in him all scorn and anger. Courage saluted courage as their eyes met.

"And you, Miss Cary?"

"Lois has already answered for me," she said. "If there was any justice in this world, I alone should suffer; but one can never suffer alone, it seems. The least I can do is to stand by you all." Her tone revealed all the remorse and suffering of which human nature is capable. It stirred in him a sudden impulsive pity. He crossed the room with outstretched hand.

"You are a brave woman."

She smiled bitterly, but the color rushed to her cheeks.

"Thank you. You have paid me the only compliment for which I care. But it is a small thing to take one's punishment without crying. After all, death isn't the worst."

She saw him glance doubtfully at her mother, and she bent down to the frozen face, speaking now gently but distinctly, as though to a suffering invalid whose ears had been dulled with pain.

"Mother, what do you want to do? There is still time--and Captain Nicholson says there is no hope for those who remain. You must not be influenced by my choice."

Mrs. Cary looked up into her daughter's face with a perplexed frown.

She seemed scarcely to have heard what had been said to her, not even to have been aware that any escape was possible. She felt for Beatrice's hand, and taking it in her own, stroked it with pathetic helplessness.

"A bad mother!" she said absently. "Well, perhaps I was. Yes, no doubt--and you think so, too, though you never said anything. It was always position I wanted. Now it's all gone. What is it, dear? Why do you look at me like that? I haven't said what I oughtn't, have I?"

"No, no. Only Captain Nicholson wants to know--will you stay or go? We could get some of the servants to go with you. You will be safe then."

Mrs. Cary shook her head.

"Are you--what are you going to do?"

A childish smile twisted the heavy face.