With Clive in India; Or, The Beginnings of an Empire by G. A. Henty (i have read the book .TXT) 📕

all night; and, in spite of their cries and curses, he broke through them and forced his way to the window.

The man with the bowl was on the point of turning away, the water being spilt in the vain attempts of those within to obtain it. By the light of the fire which the guard had lit without, Tim saw his face.

"Hossein," he exclaimed, "more water, for God's sake! The master's alive yet."

Hossein at once withdrew, but soon again approached with the bowl. The officer in charge angrily ordered him to draw back.

"Let the infidel dogs howl," he said. "They shall have no more."

Regardless of the order, Hossein ran to the window, and Tim thrust the shawl into the water at the moment when the officer, rushing forward, struck Hossein to the ground: a cry of anguish rising from the prisoners, as they saw the water dashed from their lips.

Tim made his way back to the side of his master. Had those who still remained alive been aware of the supply of water which he carried, in the shawl, they would have torn it from him; but none save those just at the window had noticed the act, and inside it was still entirely dark.

"Thank God, yer honor, here it is," Tim said; "and who should have brought it, but Hossein. Shure, yer honor, we both owe our lives to him this time, for I'm sure I should have been choked by thirst, before morning."

Ada was now lowered to the ground and, forcing her teeth asunder, a corner of the folded shawl was placed between her lips, and the water allowed to trickle down. With a gasping sigh, she presently recovered.

"That is delicious," she murmured. "That is delicious."

Raising her to her feet, Charlie and Tim both sucked the dripping shawl, until the first agonies of thirst were relieved. Then, tearing off a portion, in case Ada should again require it, Charlie passed the shawl to Mr. Holwell; who, after sucking it for a moment, again passed it on to several standing round; and in this way many of those, who would otherwise have succumbed, were enabled to hold on until morning.

Presently the first dawn of daylight appeared, giving fresh hopes to the few survivors. There were now only some six or eight standing by the window, and a few standing or leaning against the walls around. The room itself was heaped high with the dead.

It was not until two hours later that the doors were opened, and the guard entered; and it was found that, of the hundred and forty-six Englishmen inclosed there the night before, but twenty-three still breathed. Of these, very few retained strength to stagger out through the door. The rest were carried out, and laid in the veranda.

When the nabob came into the fort in the morning, he ordered Mr. Holwell to be brought before him. He was unable to walk, but was carried to his presence. The brutal nabob expressed no regret for what had happened, but loaded him with abuse, on account of the paucity of the treasure, and ordered him to be placed in confinement. The other prisoners were also confined in a cell. Ada, the only English female who had survived the siege, was torn, weeping, from Charlie's arms, and conveyed to the zenana, or ladies' apartments, of one of the nabob's generals.

A few days later, the English captives were all conveyed to Moorshedabad, where the rajah also returned, after having extorted large sums from the French and Dutch, and confiscated the whole of the property of the English in Bengal.

The prospect was a gloomy one for the captives. That the English would, in time, return and extort a heavy reckoning from the nabob, they did not doubt for a moment. But nothing was more likely than that, at the news of the first disaster which befell his troops, the nabob would order his captives to be put to death.

Upon the march up the country Charlie had, by his cheerfulness and good temper, gained the goodwill of the officer commanding the guard; and upon arriving at their destination, he recommended him so strongly to the commander of the prison that the latter, instead of placing him in the apartment allotted to the remainder of the prisoners, assigned a separate room to him; permitting Tim, at his request, to occupy it with him. It was a room of fair size, in a tower on one of the angles of the walls. It had bars, but these did not prevent those behind them looking out at the country which stretched around. The governor of the prison, finding that Charlie spoke the language fluently, often came up to sit with him, conversing with him on the affairs of that unknown country, England.

Altogether, they were fairly treated. Their food was plentiful and, beyond their captivity, they had little to complain of. Over and over again, they talked about the possibilities of effecting an escape; but, on entering the prison, they had noticed how good was the watch, how many and strong the doors through which they had passed. They had meditated upon making a rope and escaping from the window; but they slept on the divan, each with a rug to cover them; and these, torn into strips and twisted, would not reach a quarter of the way from their window to the ground; and there was no other material of which a rope could possibly have been formed.

"Our only hope," Charlie said one day, "is in Hossein. I am sure he will follow us to the death; and if he did but know where we are confined, he would not, I am certain, rest day or night, till he had opened a communication with us.

"See, Tim, there is my regimental cap, with its gold lace. Let us fasten it outside the bars, with a thread from that rug. Of course, we must remove it when we hear anyone coming."

This was speedily done and, for the next few days, one or other remained constantly at the window.

"Mr. Charles!" Tim exclaimed in great excitement, one day; "there is a man I've been watching, for the last half hour. He seems to be picking up sticks, but all the while he keeps getting nearer and nearer, and two or three times it seems to me that he has looked up in this direction."

Charlie joined Tim at the window.

"Yes, Tim, you are right. That's Hossein, I'm pretty sure."

The man had now approached within two or three hundred yards of the corner of the wall. He was apparently collecting pieces of dried brushwood, for firing. Presently, he glanced in the direction of the window. Charlie thrust his arm through the bar, and waved his hand. The man threw up his arm with a gesture which, to a casual observer, would have appeared accidental; but which the watchers had no doubt, whatever, was intended for them. He was still too far off from them to be able to distinguish his features, but they had not the least doubt that it was Hossein.

Chapter 19: A Daring Escape.

"And what's to be done next, Mister Charles? That's Hossein, sure enough, but it don't bring us much nearer to getting out."

"The first thing is to communicate with him in some way, Tim."

"If he'd come up to the side of the moat, yer honor might spake to him."

"That would never do, Tim. There are sure to be sentries on the walls of the prison. We must trust to him. He can see the sentries, and will know best what he can do."

It was evident that Hossein did not intend doing anything, at present; for, still stooping and gathering brushwood, he gradually withdrew farther and farther from the wall. Then they saw him make his sticks into a bundle, put them on his shoulder, and walk away. During the rest of the day, they saw no more of Hossein.

"I will write," Charlie said, "—fortunately I have a pencil—telling him that we can lower a light string down to the moat, if he can manage to get underneath with a cord which we can hoist up, and that he must have two disguises in readiness."

"I don't think Hossein can read," Tim said, "any more than I can, myself."

"I daresay not, Tim, but he will probably have friends in the town. There are men who were employed in the English factory at Kossimbazar, hard by. These will be out of employment, and will regret the expulsion of the English. We can trust Hossein. At any rate, I will get it ready.

"Now the first thing we have to do is to loosen one of these bars. I wish we had thought of doing it before. However, the stonework is pretty rotten, and we shall have no difficulty about that. The first thing is to get a tool of some sort."

They looked round the room, and for some time saw nothing which could in any way serve. The walls, floor, and wide bench running round, upon which the cushions which served as their beds were laid, were all stone. There was no other furniture, of any kind.

"Divil a bit of iron do I see in the place, Mister Charles," Tim said. "They don't even give us a knife for dinner, but stew all their meats into a smash."

"There is something, Tim," Charlie said, looking at the door. "Look at those long hinges."

The hinges were of ornamented ironwork, extending half across the door. Upon one of the scrolls of this ironwork they set to work. Chipping a small piece of stone off an angle of the wall, outside the window; with great difficulty they thrust this under the end of the scroll, as a wedge. Another piece, slightly larger, was then pushed under it. The gain was almost imperceptible, but at last the piece of iron was raised from the woodwork sufficiently to allow them to get a hold of it, with their thumbs. Then, little by little, they bent it upward; until at last they could obtain a firm hold of it.

The rest was comparatively easy. The iron was tough and strong but, by bending it up and down, they succeeded at last in breaking it off. It was the lower hinge of the door, upon which they had operated, as the loss of a piece of iron there would be less likely to catch the eye of anyone coming in. They collected some dust from the corner of the room, moistened it, and rubbed it on to the wood so as to take away its freshness of appearance; and they then set to work with the piece of iron, which was of a curved shape, about three inches long, an inch wide, and an eighth of an inch thick.

Taking it by turns, they ground away the stone round the bottom of one of the bars. For the first inch, the stone yielded readily to the iron; but below that it became harder, and their progress was slow. They filled the hole which they had made with water, to soften the stone, and worked steadily away till night; when, to their great joy, they found that they had reached the bottom of the bar. They then enlarged the hole inwards, in order that the bar might be pulled back. Fortunately, it was much decayed by age; and they had no doubt that, by exerting all their strength, together they could bend it sufficiently to enable them to get through.

At the hour when their dinner was brought they had ceased their work, filled up the hole with dust collected from the floor, put some dust of the stone over it, and smoothed it down, so that it would not have been noticed by anyone casually looking from the window.

It was late at night before they finished their work. Their hands were sore and bleeding, and they were completely worn out with fatigue. They had saved, from their dinner, a good-sized piece of bread. They folded up into a small compass the leaf from his pocketbook, upon which Charlie had written in Hindostanee his letter to Hossein, and thrust this into the centre of the piece of bread. Then Charlie told Tim to lie down and rest for three hours, while he kept watch; as they must take it in turns, all night, to listen in case Hossein should come outside. The lamp was kept burning.

Just as Charlie's watch was over, he thought he heard a very faint splash in the water below. Two or three minutes later, he again thought he heard the sound. He peered out of the window anxiously, but the night was dark, and he could see nothing. Listening intently, it seemed to him, several times, that he heard the same faint sound.

Presently something whizzed by him, and looking round, to his delight he saw a small arrow, with a piece of very thin string attached. The arrow was made of