CHAPTER XVI
A Dangerous Frenchman
"One hundred and forty steps up," thought Owen, as the door banged toafter him, and he listened to the grating of the bolts, and then to thesteps of the men who had conducted him to his prison now growing faintin the distance. He could hear the shuffle of Eastern sandals as theyslid down the stone stairs, the metallic ring of a tulwar striking thewall, and then silence--silence save for the medley of sound, dulled bydistance, coming to him from the outside world.
"Four stone walls and a flat ceiling," he said as he surveyed theapartment. "I fancy I must be in the highest apartment in one of theflanking towers. Then the roof is just overhead, and if----"
He broke off suddenly and stamped his foot with vexation.
"What use is it to think of the roof!" he exclaimed angrily. "It isaltogether out of my reach, and the ground below as well. The door isthe only means of exit."
But he was not the lad to give up hope without proper investigation, andfor an hour he busied himself with inspecting every corner of hisprison. He went to the window, which was at a convenient level, andcraned his head through it, for it was unglazed, and wide enough toadmit a man of far larger proportions than his. Below, at a distancewhich made him feel dizzy, was the courtyard, and outside that thestreet, buzzing with Eastern life. He watched the thousands of the cityof Indore passing, and noted the martial appearance of almost all. Therewere the usual artisans, the pedlars, the bullock-drivers with theirquaint carts, and the bheesties. But amongst them all, passing to andfro with an arrogant swagger which matched their fine appearance well,were hundreds of foot and horse soldiers, armed to the teeth,fierce-looking and pugnacious.
"Holkar is evidently well prepared for a war with any one," thoughtOwen. "There are his guns, too, and a fine collection he has. If we cometo blows with him we shall have to be very wary, for they say that hehas even better-trained troops than Scindia has. I heard that he had oneor more Englishmen in his employ, and there are certainly Frenchmen.Well, it's no good breaking my neck with craning it out of this window,for escape is out of the question either way, to the roof above or tothe ground beneath. But I am armed, and if the worst comes I could throwmyself upon the jailer. We'll see. Perhaps Holkar will repent of hisaction, for surely it is scandalous."
There could be no doubt of that fact, and yet the history of theMahrattas shows that on more than one occasion the powerful chieftainsdid not hesitate to stoop to the most odious acts of treachery. AndHolkar's name figured in those acts prominently. As he sat on his divanbelow, his single eye passing from one to another of his servitors andcausing them to cringe, his best and most enthusiastic friend could notbut admit that this powerful Mahratta chieftain looked capable of anyvillainy.
"This victory," he said, turning to a man beside him, by colour aEuropean, but dressed as a Mahratta, "do you think that the details aretrue? Or has the tale been sent to us by this youth to induce us to holdour hands? I would that I knew, for if in truth this general, known asWellesley, has conquered Scindia with but a handful, what would be ourfortune were we to commence a war with the English?"
He fixed the white man with his eye and waited eagerly for his answer.
"Come, Colonel Sahib," he said. "You who love not the English, but whohave every interest in my affairs and prosperity, what prospect have Iif I go to war? You know my wishes. I would sweep these arrogant whitesfrom the land, and then----"
"Scindia and his power would be crushed to the very earth, my lord," wasthe answer, given in Mahratti, but with an accent which was undoubtedlyFrench. "Why believe all that one hears, and particularly of theseBritish? This Scindia, what is he compared with you?"
The French colonel in the employ of Holkar swung round with flashing eyeand stared at his chieftain. "He is but as the wolf compared with thetiger. Time and again he has conciliated you when trouble between youthreatened, and we know--he knows that your troops could eat him and hisup without trouble. He is defeated by a handful. What of that? His menfled, so we are told, ere the bayonets had crossed. Would that be thecase with our troops? They would hold their ground, for they pridethemselves upon being invincible. Ask this white officer more questionsas to the battle. He will tell you that Scindia's men ran like sheep."
He finished with a scornful toss of his head, and it was abundantlyclear that he had the utmost faith in the men under the command ofHolkar, and more than that, that his aim was to bring about hostilitieswith the British.
"Send for this youth again," he cried, "and we will gather all thefacts; and remember this, my lord--for the man who dares much there ismuch reward. Holkar is now a powerful chieftain, and the Peishwa andScindia tremble when his name is breathed. But what if Holkar conqueredthe white invaders?"
Holkar's one eye gleamed with enthusiasm, while his hand wentinvoluntarily to his tulwar.
"There indeed would be power," he exclaimed. "It shall be. I will not befrightened by this despatch, by the tales brought by a boy, and by avictory won after an action which was never severely contested. Send forthis prisoner. I will interrogate him, and then he shall go."
"Go! My lord, think what cause there is here for war. Keep him. Hang himif you will, and then throw yourself upon the British. They arescattered at this moment, while their hands are full to overflowing. Nowis the time to strike. Send your troops against them while they aredivided, and annihilate each one of the scattered divisions. Strike now,and let this youth be the cause of war."
The Frenchman's eyes blazed with excitement, while he rose from the seathe had been occupying and stalked up and down in front of his chief. Andthere was no denying that this officer was as fine a specimen ofhumanity as one could well meet with. Tall, and handsome to a certaindegree, he bore himself proudly. His moustaches bristled, while hiswhole mien betokened the utmost confidence in himself and in the wisdomof the course he advocated. True, there was a certain air of treacheryabout the man, and despite his fine appearance he was hardly the one toattract the confidence or friendship of a stranger. One would havethought him cruel and unscrupulous perhaps, and certainly the advice hehad just given led one to believe that he was.
"Send for this white officer," he said. "Let me see him and questionhim. Then deal with him in the manner I have advised."
Holkar clapped his hands, and having attracted the attention of one ofhis native officers, ordered him to send for the prisoner. That done, hecontinued to converse with the French colonel in confidential whispers.There was not the smallest doubt this white officer had the command ofthe troops under the Mahratta chieftain and was a power in the land.Also he was deeply antagonistic to the British, for the simple reasonthat he was a Frenchman, and perhaps for some other reason. For thosewho knew him could tell the tale that the name of an Englishman washateful to this white officer, and that whenever he mentioned those ofthat nationality his lip curled, while his teeth showed as if he wereabout to snarl. Indeed, there were some who said that Colonel Le Pourtonhad some particular cause for hatred--a cause which he kept very closelyto himself.
Ten minutes later Owen was ushered into the room.
"A bold dog," said the Colonel, beneath his breath, as our hero entered,his head in air and a look of indignation on his face. "He must haveknown the danger of coming to the capital of Holkar, and yet he meansnow to beard the chieftain. Truly these British are impossible!"
A moment later, as he obtained a full view of Owen's face, he startedand changed colour.
"Mon dieu! How like!" he exclaimed, while his colour went and he becamedeathly pale. "If it could be----"
"Who are you? Your name?" he demanded fiercely in Mahratti.
"Owen Jones, Cornet in His Majesty's 7th native cavalry. And you?"
The Colonel gave a gasp of relief.
"How like to him!" he murmured again. "If it were not for the name Icould have thought that it was his son. Pshaw! How could it be? He islost. Lost for ever!"
He ground his teeth and snarled at Owen, who returned his glanc
es boldlyand advanced to within a couple of yards of the Mahratta chieftain, hiseyes blazing, ready to denounce him for his act of treachery. For,though young as yet, Owen had learned many things since he joined thearmy. And one was that humility before a chieftain of Holkar's class wasnot profitable. Underneath all the arrogance of these native princesthere lurked a wholesome dread of the British, and Owen knew that mildremonstrance would be of little service to him. He must let thischieftain know that his act would not go unpunished, and that if hecontinued his violence all his troops would be insufficient to protecthim. He was in the very act of launching forth when Colonel Le Pourtonagain interrupted him.
"You say that you are Cornet Owen Jones," he said in breathless andexcited tones. "Tell us where you come from in England. Speak, and letit be the truth."
"The truth!" Owen swung round upon him, his face flushing. "Pleaseremember that an Englishman boasts that he always tells the truth. Whoare you who ask these questions?"
For a moment the Colonel was staggered by his boldness, while the singleeye of Holkar flashed ominously and he was in the act of speaking whenthe Colonel held up his hand to arrest the words.
"My lord," he said, "let me deal with this youth. I have grave cause toask these questions, for years ago--but that is a story which could notinterest you. My name? Colonel Le Pourton, in command of some portion ofHolkar's forces. Your answer."
Owen thought for a moment before replying. There was something aboutthis Frenchman which repelled him, while the sneer on his face when hespoke told at once that here was a man who was hardly likely to befriendhim. What object could he have in asking this question?
"From Winchester," he said at length. "That is my native city."
"And you were born there? Your parents lived there?"
The Frenchman sprang to his feet and strode up and down again inextraordinary excitement while he waited breathlessly for the answer. Asfor Owen, he was amazed at the questions and hardly knew whether toreply or not. He could see no reason for not gratifying what would seemto be idle curiosity on the part of this white officer, and yet therewas something forbidding about the Frenchman, something which warned himto hold his tongue. If only he had known how eagerly the Colonel awaitedhis information! If only he could have guessed what that informationwould lead to!
"Ah well, I don't see why he should not know," he said to himself."Unless----"
Suddenly the thought came to him that this man might in someextraordinary manner be connected with his earlier history--might evenhave known his parents. Like a flash the idea swept across his mind,and with it the determination to tell all that he knew.
"I was not born in Winchester," he answered. "I believe I was born inIndia, and sailed for England when I was some four or five years of age.After that I can only say that it would appear as if I had been stolenand then deserted. I was brought up at the poorhouse, and finallyentered the army, when----"
He came to a sudden stop, for Colonel Le Pourton had collapsed into hisseat, where he lay rather than sat, a huddled heap, his face the colourof crimson, his eyes bloodshot and staring, and his breath coming inshort, sharp gasps. He was evidently ill, and at the sight Owen lookedat him in amazement, while Holkar leaped to his feet with an oath. Aminute later, however, the Colonel recovered and sat upright, hisbaneful eyes fixed on our hero.
"Let us talk with him another time, my lord," he said feebly. "Take himaway. See that he is secured. Put chains upon him if necessary. Warn thejailer that he will be executed if this officer contrives to escape. Doyou hear? Take him away!"
His voice rose as he went on till it became almost a scream, while hepointed a finger at Owen. His eyes flashed and blazed like those of amaniac, he frothed at the mouth, while the lips and moustaches curledback from the teeth in a hideous snarl, which was more thandisconcerting. Owen recoiled from the man and backed into the centre ofthe room, while his hand went to the hilt of his sabre. Then the guardwhich had escorted him to the presence of the Mahratta chief surroundedhim and hastened him away into the corridor, up the endless flight ofsteps, and then into the large bare cell again. There was a crash as thedoor swung to, the rasping of bolts and rusty bars, and the slither ofdeparting sandals, the slip, slip, slip of men descending the stairs,the metallic clink of a striking weapon, now so wonderfully familiar,for such small sounds seize upon the attention of a prisoner, and thensilence again--silence and the busy hum of the Oriental city, the callof the bullock-drovers, the cry of the mendicant, and the sharp,arrogant shout of the soldiers to clear a passage for them.
"The man is mad! He must be! What on earth can my history be to him--toa Frenchman out here in India!"
Owen passed his fingers through his hair and then mopped his forehead,for the scene which had just passed was amazing. It was filled with themost astonishing incidents--incidents which defied his powers todecipher.
And yet, was the Frenchman mad? Was there an undercurrent of meaning?Surely there must have been reasons for his questions; and his illness,the sudden collapse as the information was given him, were convincingarguments that Colonel Le Pourton had reasons for asking his questions,and that the answers, simple as they undoubtedly were, had brought somedread to his mind which was sufficiently great to upset him. But thoughOwen pondered on the matter for many hours he arrived at no solution,and finally was compelled to give the mystery up as unfathomable. Ofthis, however, he was certain: whatever interest the Frenchman mighthave in him, it was not a friendly one. Something told him that theColonel was a bitter enemy, and that he would do well to escape from hispower as rapidly as possible. Had he had any doubts on this matter theywere set at rest that very night.
As the sun was sinking the door of his prison was thrown open. "You willeat in a room along this passage. There are other prisoners." TheMahratta jailer motioned to him to pass along the corridor, and usheredhim into a room in which there was a small table with three chairs setto it. On these were seated three British officers, evidently in theservice of Holkar, for they wore Mahratta uniforms. They rose as heentered and welcomed him as only Britishers can welcome their owncountrymen abroad.
"Here is another chair. Sit down, please," said one, a pleasant-lookingfellow. "Now, it is hardly worth asking what you will have, seeing thatvery little is allowed. But make the most of the time, for they give usonly a few minutes. That's it. Now you have something, and we can talk.We know all about you, and how you were taken. This Holkar is atreacherous fellow, and his French adviser does not help matters. We arein the same box, for we have been serving in his army for some time, andshould be now, we fancy, but for the Colonel. He has become verypowerful, and, being a Frenchman, hates all English officers. Holkar isabout to quarrel with the British, and as we could not possibly fightagainst our own people we asked to leave him. That is why we are here,and--but there, we won't think of the future."
"We'll make the most of our time," burst in another; "but there's nodenying the fact that things are ugly. This Holkar is capable ofmurdering us."
There was a nod from the third, while Owen stared at his newacquaintances in astonishment. Later he learned their names. They wereCaptains Vickers, Todd, and Ryan, all three in the service of Holkar, asmany other British officers were in that of other chieftains; and theseunfortunate and gallant men, because they refused to fight their ownkith and kin, were prisoners. It was another illustration of thetreachery of Holkar.
But however hard the fortune which had come to the prisoners, for thisbrief half-hour, when they were allowed to be together, they banishedcare and became happy in one another's company. In a very little whileOwen learned all about them, while he rapidly told his own history andall about the campaign which had been waged. A little later the door wasthrown open and the jailer ordered them back to their cells.
"Good-bye till to-morrow, Owen," said one of the officers, "and take myadvice. Beware of that fellow Le Pourton. We are not such closeprisoners here that our servants cannot bring us news, and we havelearned enough already to know th
at the Frenchman will have you killedif possible. Look out. The jailer may have picked up a little of ourlanguage."
"Then I must get away, whatever the difficulty," thought our hero as thedoor of his cell was slammed to again and he found himself alone. "Evenif there were only the chief to be considered, I should go, for I couldnot trust my life to him for an instant. And now that this Frenchman hasappeared upon the scene it becomes doubly necessary. But how?"
When night had fallen and the stars had come out in their myriads,shining down upon the city of Indore, Owen stared up at them from thewindow, puzzling how to make good his escape. Down below he could hearthe drowsy chant of some religious enthusiasts, while ever and anon theflash of the fire which burned in a stove before them came to his eyes,some one in the circle of natives about it having changed his position.All manner of strange cries came up to him from the streets of thisEastern city--the neighing of horses, the clatter of human beings, andthe bellow of oxen. But as the night passed on all these ceased, andsave for the bark of an occasional cur there was not a sound. In thecorridor outside, and in other parts of the tower in which he was aprisoner, there was not so much as a murmur. He was alone, helpless, aprisoner in the hands of two men as ruthless and as cruel as could wellbe found.
And while he is there, groping round the walls, vainly endeavouring todiscover some hidden outlet, or thrusting his head out of the window asif he were likely there to find some help, we will leave him for a whileto return to the British forces in the field. This Mahratta campaign,which had opened so brilliantly, and which in the quarter where GeneralWellesley had command had been waged so successfully and had culminatedin the victory of Assaye, is already familiar to the reader. But thecountry ruled over by the Mahrattas was very extensive, and, as hasalready been narrated, there was more than one chieftain who had throwndown the gage to England, and in consequence there were other forces tobe encountered in addition to that under the command of Scindia inperson.
It will be remembered that negotiations for peace had commenced afterAssaye, and crushing though the defeat was which had been inflictedthere, it will be realised that in itself that was insufficient to bringabout such an event, considering the other forces in the field againstus--forces which so far have not been mentioned. Some 55,000 men,European and native, had been collected in different parts by theGovernor-General of India, and these were divided into various brigadeswith a view to carrying on a number of campaigns at one and the sametime. The areas detailed to these forces were the Deccan, Hindustan,Goojerat, and Cuttack; and the operations resulting in the first-namedarea have already been outlined, General Wellesley having there alreadybrought the enemy to a condition of humbleness. This brilliant generalcould not possibly direct armies so widely separated, therefore othercommanders had to be selected, and in consequence some 7000 men wereplaced under the orders of Colonel Murray in Goojerat.
The Rajah of Berar had rashly thrown in his lot with Scindia, andagainst this chieftain marched another force of European and nativetroops. The movements of this part of our army resulted on the 14th ofSeptember in the storming of the fort of Barahuttee, one mile fromCuttack, and in the conquest of the province--another strong inducementto Scindia to lay down his arms.
And now we come to the operations in Hindustan proper--operations whichmay be said to have been the most important of all, for the forceallocated to this area, under the command of General Lake, afterwardsLord Lake, was to be opposed to General Perron's battalions, and it wasexpected that the French element would lead to very great difficulties.For these battalions, nominally in the service of Scindia, were whollydevoted to the interests of France, and were in consequence a thorn inthe side of the British. They had assigned to them a considerableterritory, the income of which was devoted to their maintenance and pay,and this territory they ruled despotically. There were some 43,650trained men with 464 guns, and of these it is said that some 23,650 werewith Scindia in the Deccan, where General Wellesley had overthrown them;while the remainder, 20,000, were in Hindustan, opposed to General Lake.This last-named general had under his command 10,500 men of all arms. Heset out from Cawnpore on the 7th of August, and by 4th September hadcaptured the fortress of Allyghur, which was of the utmost importance toGeneral Perron, and which, having had all the skill of his engineersdevoted to it, was of incredible strength. It fell into our hands with ahuge quantity of military stores and 281 guns, and its capture must havebeen a very serious loss to the enemy. It was followed by theresignation of General Perron, who passed through our lines to Lucknow.He had been informed that he was to be superseded, and in addition hadlittle confidence in the ultimate success of Scindia, or in his Europeanofficers. His place was taken by Louis Bourquin, about whom gathered thebattalions formerly under the command of General Perron. But the effectof Allyghur and of the general's submission were felt on the way toDelhi, for many places were handed to our troops without a shot beingfired. On our arrival within sight of Delhi, however, Louis Bourquinattacked the camp, having some thirteen battalions of infantry with himand 5000 cavalry. Our men were tired out with their long march in thesun and hardly fit for strenuous battle; but in spite of their conditionthey faced the enemy staunchly, made a counter attack, and finally drovethe Mahrattas in wild flight from the field, after a very severelycontested action in which we lost heavily, while the enemy left 3000killed and wounded on the field, besides numbers of guns, ammunition,and two tumbrils laden with treasure. The occupation of Delhi followedas a natural course, while Louis Bourquin and four other Frenchofficers, using a wise discretion, forsook the service of Scindia andsurrendered to General Lake.
No sooner had this general won the ancient city of Delhi than he placedColonel Ochterlony in command of its garrison, and turning his back uponit set out for Agra on the 24th of September, the very day followingthat on which General Wellesley had defeated Scindia and his force atAssaye. This brings events up to the moment when Owen was despatched toIndore, to the court of the redoubtable Holkar. Now let us return tothat young officer, whom we left a close prisoner in the tower of thepalace.