The enemy, consoling themselves with the thought that
on the morrow their cannon would finish the contest
which had thus far cost them so dearly, placed a guard
of fifty men on the terrace at the foot of the steps,
lighted a large fire there, in order that they could
see any one attempting to descend long before he reached
the level, and then retired below.
By this time Ned had recovered consciousness, and
having taken a drink of water, was able to understand
what had happened. His father had cut his uniform
off his shoulder and arm, and having also cut off one
of his own shirt sleeves, had soaked it in water,
and applied it as a bandage on the wound.
“I am very glad we had agreed that only Dick
should go,” Ned said, “otherwise I should
have blamed myself for keeping you here.”
“No, we could not have gone in any case,”
Colonel Warrener said, “as there would have
been no one to have lowered the rope here; besides
which, it is only a sailor or a practiced gymnast
who can let himself down a rope some eighty feet.”
“When will Dick try?”
“As soon as the camp gets quiet. The moon
will be up by twelve o’clock, and he must be
off before that. Are you in much pain, old boy?”
“Not much, father; I feel numbed and stupid.”
“Now, Dunlop,” Colonel Warrener said,
“will you relieve Dick on guard at the steps?
You may as well say good-by to him. It is about
eight o’clock now, and in a couple of hours
he will be off. After he has gone I will relieve
you. Then a four hours’ watch each will
take us to daylight; there won’t be much sleeping
after that.”
By ten o’clock the noise in the rebel camp had
nearly ceased. Groups still sat and talked round
the campfires, but the circle was pretty large round
the tomb, for the Sepoys had fallen back when the musketry
fire was opened upon them from the parapet, and had
not troubled to move again afterward.
“Now,” Dick said, “it is time for
me to be off. I have got a good seventy miles
to ride to Lucknow. It is no use my thinking of
going after the column, for they would be some fifty
miles away from the place where we left them by to
morrow night. If I can get a good horse I may
be at Lucknow by midday to-morrow. The horses
have all had a rest to-day. Sir Colin will, I
am sure, send off at once, and the troops will march
well to effect a rescue. They will make thirty-five
miles before they halt for the night, and will be
here by the following night.”
“We must not be too sanguine, Dick. It
is just possible, dear boy, that if all goes well
you may be back as you say, in forty-eight hours, but
we will make up our minds to twice that time.
If you get here sooner, all the better; but I don’t
expect that they will hit us, and after tiring a bit
the chances are they will not care to waste ammunition,
and will try to starve us out.”
