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Gil the Gunner Part 23

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"Draw--swords!" rang out in answer, and there was the peculiar grating rattle of sabres being drawn from steel scabbards.

"Who is that? Sergeant Craig?" cried Brace.

"Captain!" shouted a familiar voice. "Thank G.o.d, we've found you at last!" and a faint cheer rose up.

"Quick! tell me," cried Brace, as we pressed up to the men--"is it all true?"

"You've heard, then, sir?" said the sergeant, with a groan.

"Yes; Denny escaped and reached us."

"Poor lad! I thought he was one of the goners."

"How was it?" said Brace, sternly.

"I hardly know, sir. A surprise. Everything was as usual, just at the hottest time, when they were down upon us like a thunder clap. One party made for the officers' quarters, another for the guard, and shot down the sentries; another made the men fast in their quarters, and before we could grasp it, they had seized the whole place, and we were helpless."

"But the major--Lieutenant Barton?"

"Don't ask me, sir," said the man, hoa.r.s.ely.

"Speak, man."

"I saw the major run out, sword in hand, followed by a dozen of the scoundrels, and he was shouting for the trumpeter; but before d.i.c.k Dobbs could get out, the poor major was cut down, and we were locked in, could hear the lieutenant crying for help, and there was firing going on in his quarters, and then the scoundrels came out, shouting wildly."

"Killed?"

The sergeant uttered a low groan.

"The wretches! the cowardly, traitorous wretches!" cried Brace. "They had murdered their own officers, and then came up to the barracks."

"Beg pardon, sir."

Brace repeated his words.

"What! were the n.i.g.g.e.rs mutinied too?"

"Yes; did you not know?"

"Not a word, sir. We were like being in prison till we managed to creep out; and then after a bit of a talk among us non-coms, as were left, we determined, as our officers were gone, to come and try and find you, sir."

"Then you were kept locked in the barracks?"

"Yes, sir; and if any of us showed a head, it was made a mark for a bullet. But we could hear all that was going on. One of them sounded boot and saddle as well 'most as little d.i.c.k."

"Nay!" cried a boyish voice from the darkness.

"Well, tidy enough; and then we could hear them bringing out the horses, and limbering up and forming up in the barrack yard, sir, till I could bear it no longer, and I risked the bullets so as to get a peep now and then; and I did till, with everything in order, and the ammunition chests and waggons crammed, they rode out of the yard, with the people yelling and tom-tomming like mad."

"But who--who did all this? The sepoys of the native regiment?"

"No, sir," cried the sergeant.

"Then who did?"

"The syces, sir."

"What?"

"The whole gang of them, sir; led by Ny Deen."

"What?" said Brace again.

"It has been a plot, sir, all slowly worked out. That Ny Deen is some big chief, from his ways to-day; and others with him are somebodies.

They've been watching our drill, and quietly learning everything, till the time came, and then, at some word of command, they rushed in, carried all before them; and, after a way, they've gone off with guns, ammunition, and every horse except the officers', which somehow they overlooked."

"Is this some horrible dream?" panted Brace.

"No, sir; but horrid wide-awake truth," said the sergeant, sadly.

"Twenty-two of our men cut up, and as fine a troop of horses and battery of guns gone as there is in the army; and as for me, sir, I feel as if I was that disgraced, that if I'd had a carbine, I believe I should have gone up in some corner, said a bit of a prayer, and then--good-bye to it all, and shot myself dead."

"But the sentries?" said Brace, after an interval, during which we had stood as if utterly crushed by the news. "They could not have been doing their duty."

"Nay, sir, but they were," said the sergeant, speaking with energy now, the last words he had uttered having been in a hoa.r.s.e, broken voice, which told of his sorrow and despair. "Poor chaps! they saw a party of syces coming toward them in white--men they knew well enough. Was it likely, sir, that they'd think them enemies?"

"No," said Brace, sadly. "Poor lads! poor lads!"

"G.o.d save the Queen, sir!" cried the sergeant, hysterically, for the poor fellow was utterly broken down, "and long life to one's officers, whom I for one would follow anywhere, even to certain death. Yes; I'd have followed him, poor chap. But it was his doing, sir, and the likes of him; and I'll say it now, even if I'm court-martialled for it.

Lieutenant Barton brought it on us. The n.i.g.g.e.rs 'll bear a deal, but it's only natural that they'd turn some time; and quiet as Ny Deen was, I've seen his eyes flash sometimes when Mr Barton was rating him, and not because he deserved it, for a better groom and a man more proud of turning out a horse well, never came into cantonments."

"Silence in the ranks," said Brace, shortly. "Lie down all of you and rest. Gentlemen," he continued, turning to us, "this way, please. We must consider what is to be done."

We followed him a few yards into the darkness, and Brace whispered to us to sit down, setting the example himself; but though we waited he did not speak, and at last the doctor whispered to me to say something to the captain.

He heard the whispering and spoke at once, hurriedly.

"I beg your pardon," he said; "I was thinking hard about our position."

"Yes? Well?" said the lieutenant with us.

"What have you decided?" whispered the doctor.

"To act," said Brace, with decision. "This mutinous rising may be one that is extending, or merely a local trouble here, at Rajgunge; but that is no affair of ours, gentlemen. We were away from our duties, on our own pleasure. We allowed ourselves to be inveigled--"

"No, no," said the doctor. "Poor Lacey gave us leave after accepting the invitation."

"The major kept to his post, and died defending it, sir," said Brace, sternly. "We were away, and the position in which we find ourselves is a disgrace which we must wipe off."

"How?" cried my brother-officers.

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Gil the Gunner Part 23 summary

You're reading Gil the Gunner. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): George Manville Fenn. Already has 616 views.

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