“I think you are right, and that perhaps I am not in my true mind. For there are times when I know and see all the falsehood and wickedness of this man’s heart as well as ever you can tell it me, and yet I tell you, to my own bitter shame, that I love him so that if he bids me follow him into any disgrace or crime, God help me, I cannot refuse!”

CHAPTER X
TAKEN CAPTIVE

Rupert, when he heard those words of Marian, gave a laugh, and advanced a step towards me.

“There now, you see how it is,” he said, “as I told you long ago in Yarmouth; but you wouldn’t believe me. Come, why need we keep up our quarrel any longer, when the girl tells you to your face that she prefers me? After all, we are of the same blood, good Norfolk dumplings both; and if I have done you any injury in the past, I am here ready to tender my best amends for it.”

He spoke this with a brave air, and I believe was going to offer me his hand. I must confess that I was a little touched with compunction at that mention of Norfolk, where I was born. Something, too, of that old superiority and fascination which this man had exercised over me in my boyhood revived as he spoke. But the memory of his subsequent treacheries and crimes was too strong for me to feel more than a momentary inclination towards yielding. I drew back from him, therefore, and shook my head.

“If we are related, it is a thing I cannot help, though it is to my shame,” I answered him. “But I will have no more part nor lot with you, were you the last of my kin left on earth. Do not suppose that, because Marian is so far bewitched that she has forgiven you your wicked treatment of her, I shall do the same. What are you now but a traitor to your countrymen, and a spy in the service of a bloody Indian tyrant? Rupert Gurney, I must tell you that I hold you for a detestable villain and a coward, and I will pursue you without truce and without rest till I have rid the earth of such a wretch. And I am here now ready to begin.”

My anger against him gathered and swelled as I spoke, recalling his base actions, so different from his words. He immediately let me see that his behaviour was not changed, for before I had well done speaking he suddenly raised his pistol and discharged it in my face; after which he turned and ran out through the doorway, without waiting to see the result of his shot. To do my cousin justice, I believe he had plenty of natural courage, being of the right Ford strain, as he said. But after that great combat which we had in the boat off Yarmouth river, he never faced me again without a certain reluctance and blenching, as though his conscience misgave him.

I was very little hurt on this occasion, for the ball entered my mouth sideways, merely depriving me of two teeth, and issuing again through the left cheek. But the sudden pain and bleeding incommoded me so far as to hinder my pursuit of Rupert, so that he got clear away and left the town that night, it seems, for Moorshedabad.

I reported the affair to Mr. Drake, merely concealing some details, as that this was my kinsman; and he was so well satisfied to have got rid of him that he promised me I should receive half the reward offered for his capture. But the subsequent events doubtless put it out of his mind, for I never received anything. And on the whole I was satisfied with this, not wishing to make a profit, as it were, out of the treachery of one of my own family, however unworthy.

Even had I succeeded in taking Gurney, and had he been executed, it was now too late to have altered the course of events. Every day brought fresh intelligence confirming the hostility of the Nabob towards the English. One day he sent to demand the levelling of Fort William to the ground, the next he threatened the withdrawal of the Company’s privileges, and in particular the dustucks, which he said were abused by being lent to Gentoos, his own subjects. Finally word came that Surajah Dowlah had marched out of Moorshedabad with his army, and had sat down before Cossimbuzar, where we had a factory and a small fort.

All this time the Governor and others of the Council had refused to believe that anything was intended beyond extorting a sum of money from the Company. But the wiser and more prudent ones, among whom were Messrs. Byng and Holwell, took a different view, which they made me share. Now at last Mr. Drake seemed to rouse from his supineness, and gave orders for the town and fort to be prepared against attack. Before these orders could be carried out, however, arrived the news that Mr. Watts, chief of the Cossimbuzar party, was a prisoner in the Nabob’s hands, that the place was surrendered, and plundered by the Moors, and that our garrison, though promised security, had been so barbarously used by them that Mr. Elliott, the commanding officer, had taken his own life.

And now men began to tell each other fearful stories of Surajah Dowlah and his career. It was said that when he was a child his favourite pastime had been the torturing of birds and animals, from which, while still in his boyhood, he had passed to mutilating slaves; that not only had he given himself from his earliest years to every species of oriental lust – some too vile to be named – but he was even a drunkard, a vice forbidden by the Alcoran and foreign to the manners of Indostan. To his great-uncle, the late Nabob, who doted on him to distraction, he had shown, it was said, the basest ingratitude, insolently taking advantage of the old man’s affection to accomplish his crimes and murders with impunity, and, if restrained in any of his desires, to withdraw from the Court and threaten rebellion, knowing that his uncle would yield anything rather than endure the absence of his darling. At the present moment, it was affirmed, he had quarrelled with and set aside all the wisest and principal men in his dominions, and was governed by minions of his own, buffoons and such creatures, sprung from the lowest class and promoted to high stations as a reward for their participation in his guilty orgies. Such was the young man, incapable of reason or mercy, and passing from one transport of passion to another, who was now in full march with all his force against Calcutta, having sworn to exterminate the English from Bengal.

Immediately I found there was talk of resistance and fighting, I went to Mr. Byng and begged to be allowed to serve with the garrison. This offer he thankfully accepted, and in the course of a day or two every other Englishman in the town either volunteered or was pressed into the same service. Our regular garrison consisted of only two hundred European troops, to which were added some Topasses, a mixed breed of Indians and Portuguese, very suitable to be used as mercenaries, and about a thousand of the black natives armed as buxerries, or matchlock men. Out of regard to my having been the first to volunteer and to my former service on board a man-of-war, I was presently appointed a sergeant, and put in charge of a party of twelve men, assigned to the defence of the rope-walk which joins the main east road from the fort to the Morattoe ditch.

Besides this ditch, begun to be dug many years before at a time when the Morattoe armies were invading Bengal, and never finished, there was no fortification of any kind round the town; so that barricades had now to be thrown up, and guns planted in the streets at whatever points seemed most favourable for intercepting the advance of the enemy. The plan of defence, so far as any plan was adhered to in the confusion and panic which prevailed, was to defend these outposts as long as possible, then to retire into Fort William itself and stand a siege, and when the fort could be maintained no longer to take to the ships which lay in the river, and drop down the stream out of reach of the enemy.

My own post was, as I have said, at the rope-walk. At one end of this place, on the main road into the town, was a battery under the command of a captain, so disposed as to check any advance. But in case the enemy should try to creep round through some side streets and take the battery in flank, our little party of twelve was stationed at the other end of the rope-walk, ready to detect and resist any such attempt.

The first notice we had of the arrival of the Moors’ army was by a cannon fired on the north side of the town, at a place where the Morattoe ditch joined the river Hooghley. This being the direct way for an army coming from Moorshedabad to enter Calcutta, the Moors here made their first attack, and all that day the sound of cannon and musketry came to us on the breeze, without our seeing the enemy or knowing how the fortune of the day was turning. But with evening came the good news that the enemy had been repulsed and had drawn off to the other side of the ditch.

That night we did not dare to retire to rest indoors, but slept at our post, under a shed put up over some wheels on which the twine was wound. At four in the morning we were up and eating some bread and cold meat sent to us from the fort for our breakfast, when suddenly we heard a fearful rattle and crash of musketry close at hand. The enemy had been informed of the gap in the Morattoe ditch further south, had swarmed across it, and were now attacking our outposts all along the line.

Leaving our meal half-eaten, we sprang to our feet and took our weapons. I ordered the men not to expose themselves more than was needed, an order which one or two of them obeyed so zealously as to place themselves where they could neither see nor be seen by the enemy, and where all they did was to load their muskets and discharge them into the air in the direction from which the attack seemed to come. However, I found some braver than that, and as the Moors seemed much afraid of our fire we held them at bay well enough. Their own fire was more frightening than dangerous, the noise being out of all proportion to the number of persons hit. So much was this the case that after some hours had gone by without a single ball taking effect on any member of our party, their first fears wore off and all began to expose themselves in a very reckless manner.

There was a wall forming the side of the rope-walk, about four feet high, and behind this wall we stood and fired at the Moors as they showed themselves in any of the streets commanded by our position. I cannot describe how interested and excited I got in this cruel sport, for such it resembled. I chose for myself a long, narrow street leading to the southward, with about a dozen lanes crossing it from east to west. Loading my gun and resting it on the coping of the wall with the muzzle pointed down this street, I kept my eyes on the various openings. Every quarter of an hour, perhaps, a small party of soldiers in bright silk turbans, with glittering arms and armour, would pass out from one of the lanes into this street, either crossing it or moving up or down. Each time I would wait till a whole group emerged, so as to have a bigger target, and then discharge my piece. Almost invariably a man would fall, and the whole party, terrified and not understanding the smallness of our force, would run into one of the lanes adjoining, leaving a wounded or dead man lying in the deserted street. This went on till, I think, fifteen or twenty bodies lay at different points along the roadway, besides those who, being slightly hurt, had crawled away into shelter.

In the end I suppose the Moorish leader in this part of the attack must have had notice of our proceedings; for presently a force of some thirty or forty Indians emerged suddenly from a corner very near the rope-walk and advanced towards us at a run, firing freely as they came. Now it was that one of our men was hit for the first time, a Company’s servant named Parkes, a young lad who had arrived in Bengal only six weeks before from England. A ball struck him under the right eye, and he died in a few minutes.

This accident caused the rest of us to take more care. Nevertheless, we managed to get off a good volley before the enemy could arrive as far as the wall, wounding several. The rest wavered, and would, perhaps, have fled but for the action of their leader, a tall, fine man, having a great scymetar in his hand, with which he struck his men violently on the shoulders to urge them forward. Seeing them resume their rush at our position, I looked round at my own men, and to my disgust found several preparing to desert their places and retire further back.

“Stop!” I shouted angrily. “Let us show these black villains we are not afraid of them! Fix bayonets! Forward! Charge!”

With these words I leaped over the wall and ran at the enemy, followed by my whole party, except one man, who actually threw down his piece and fled, not stopping till he reached the fort. But he need not have done this, for had he stood a moment he would have seen the whole party of Moors break and fly without waiting to close with us, so much were they terrified by the way in which we sprang over the wall to come at them. And this is, indeed, the nature of all the natives of Indostan – to give way instantly that they meet an enemy who is more bent on fighting than they are themselves.

The only person to stand his ground was the leader of the party, who waited for us to come up, and then, singling me out, aimed a blow at me with his scymetar. Up to this moment I had been too busy to observe his face, and my rage knew no bounds when I discovered that I had to do with my renegade kinsman himself, who, it appears, had been searching for me from the very beginning of the battle. How it would now have gone between us I cannot say, for several of my men closing in round us almost immediately, Rupert saw his danger and ran off, and my duty to defend the rope-walk forbade me from following.

For the rest of that day we were not much disturbed, except by the continual pattering of bullets, which seemed to come from all quarters of the compass. When night came, being anxious to learn how the siege had progressed in other quarters, I sent a messenger to the fort, who brought back word that the enemy had made no very great impression so far, but that everything was in such a state of confusion and dismay at the headquarters that it was impossible we could hold out much longer.

Not to dwell on these particulars, the next day saw the end of this unhappy affair. Early in the forenoon the Moors made a very hot attack on the battery at the far end of our rope-walk, and at the same time a fresh party, headed by my wicked cousin, assailed our position. I restrained my men from discharging their muskets till the Indians were within a few paces of us, with the result that we did great execution, nearly a dozen of them falling. The rest fell back for a moment, but Gurney urging them on, they rushed up and made a desperate attempt to clamber over the wall.

While we were hard at work keeping them off with our bayonets, I heard a tremendous crash and shouting in the rear, from the point where the battery was placed. This noise seemed greatly to encourage our assailants, several of whom managed to get over the wall and engage in hand to hand conflicts with the men under me. Nevertheless, I stirred up my fellows to continue their resistance, and myself beat back two Moors, one of whom I ran through the body with my bayonet. So absorbed was I that I did not observe the approach of a young ensign from the battery, who came running along the rope-walk, shouting out —

“Fall back! fall back! The battery is abandoned to the enemy, and they will cut off your retreat.”

At this the men with me began to slacken their exertions, and some fairly took to their heels. However, I had just caught sight of Rupert advancing towards me and did not feel inclined to budge.

“Come back, you fool!” shouted the little ensign, pale and breathless. “We are beaten, don’t you hear?”

I turned my head and scowled at him.

“You seem to be beaten, sir,” I said. “For my part, I am very comfortable where I am, and intend to go on fighting.”

With these words I turned to defend myself from Rupert, who was coming at me eagerly enough, as it seemed. The ensign fled without further parley, and I believe saved his life. So also did most of my companions, though two others were badly wounded, and unable to stir. For my part I was resolved to sell my life dearly, but this privilege was denied me. For Gurney, as soon as he saw how the land lay, and that I was left there alone, instantly drew back and ordered his men to take me a prisoner, which, being by this time about thirty or forty against one, they effected, whether I would or not.

My cousin’s exultation was very great when he thus had me for the second time in his power.

“Now, Master Athelstane,” he cried, “we shall see whether you get off as lightly as you did at Gheriah. You are not likely, I think, to be rescued by a fleet this time. But perhaps you will be glad that I should take you without more ado before the Nabob. He has a high opinion of the English, and no doubt will be glad to take you into his service and give you many handsome rewards.”

“Rupert Gurney,” I answered, “in mocking at one who is your prisoner, owing to no valour of yours, you merely show yourself to be a coward as well as a traitor. I care nothing for what the Nabob may do to me; and this I know, that I would rather he put me to death outright than enjoy his favour by such services as yours.”

“Thank you, cousin,” says Rupert, who was able to keep his temper now that he had the better of me. “I am glad to learn that you will not seek to undermine my credit with his Highness. But now, if you are sufficiently rested, let us proceed.”

Speaking these mocking words, he made his men bind my wrists together with a cord, and conducted me out of the streets of the town towards Surajah Dowlah’s camp.

The tent of the Nabob was a fine great pavilion of yellow and crimson cloth. All about the entrance stood his guards, very handsomely dressed, with silver and gold ornaments, and armed with all sorts of curious weapons, some of which I had not seen before. Inside, when we were presently admitted, the spectacle was still more striking. The Nabob sat on a high cushion, called the musnud, placed on a daïs which was raised several feet above the ground. On the daïs beside him stood three of his principal courtiers, in silk robes and turbans incrusted with gems, while others of inferior rank stood below the steps of the daïs. A slave beat the air with a fan of peacock’s feathers over the Nabob’s head.

I gazed with great curiosity and awe upon this young prince, who was now making his name terrible through Bengal. I was amazed to see that he was extremely young, scarce older than myself, with a face, I think, the handsomest of any Indian’s I ever saw: yet his face was marred, and his youthfulness made unnatural by the ugly traces of his passions. His skin appeared coarse and blotched, his lips were thick and purple-coloured, and his teeth – an unusual thing among Moors – very black and dirty, when he spoke. He lay back somewhat on his throne, with his chin leaning on his breast and his heavy eyes turned to the ground. In spite of the waving of the fan, the heat seemed to oppress him; or else it was the weight of his turban, for he passed his hand over his brow every now and then as if he would have lifted it off. His fingers, I noticed, were much encumbered with rings, besides which he wore bracelets, and ear-rings in his ears. But when he lifted his eyes from the floor and looked at me, I was appalled by the expression in them, which was not that of common ferocity, but rather dreadful despair, like a lost soul that is goaded on to assuage its own pangs by the torture of others.

“Who is this dog?” he asked in a husky, soddened tone, as I was brought up to the foot of his daïs.

“It is one of the ungrateful wretches who have dared to resist the slaves of your sublime Highness,” was the answer. Rupert had come in with me, so as to take the credit of my capture, but the conversation with the Nabob was carried on by one of the Indians, who seemed to be the lieutenant of the party.

“Is he one of the English?” demanded Surajah, casting an angry glance at me.

“Your exalted wisdom has said the word. Undoubtedly he belongs to that vile nation, whom the breath of your anger has even now destroyed.”

“Ask him why his people have dared to resist my commands. Who is he? Is he one of their principal men? Ask him where is their treasure?”

Before the Indian could translate these questions I answered them in the same language.

“I am an interpreter in the service of the Company, may it please your Highness. I am but newly arrived in your country, and know nothing of the other matters you have asked about.”

The Nabob gave a sullen frown.

“Take the wretch away out of my sight. He is a worthless capture,” he said.

But one of the three men on the daïs, a young, handsome Gentoo, with a cruel, cunning face – I afterwards heard he was Lal Moon, the Nabob’s chief favourite – bent over his master and whispered something in his ear. Instantly Surajah Dowlah sat up, furious.

“You have lied to me!” he screamed. “You speak our language, and yet you say you are but newly arrived. That must be a lie!”

He looked round at his courtiers, and there was a murmur of admiration at his sagacity.

“Your Highness is mistaken,” I said, keeping cool. “I learned the Indostanee language on my way out to the East Indies, from the secretary of Colonel Clive.”

As I pronounced this name I saw a movement among those present. The Nabob stared, not understanding to whom I referred; but an older man, with a proud, discontented, and yet apprehensive air, who also stood on the daïs, and was, I found out, Meer Jaffier, Surajah Dowlah’s uncle, and commander of his armies, this man, I say, spoke in explanation —

“The youth means that he came on the ship with Sabat Jung.”

No sooner did the Nabob hear this than he changed colour.

“Are you a friend of Sabat Jung’s? Is he coming to Bengal?” he asked, with scarcely concealed anxiety.

“Sabat Jung is my protector,” I replied, putting on a bolder air. “If he hears that any wrong has been done to the English in Calcutta, he will surely come here and avenge them.”

The courtiers exchanged looks of amazement at these words of defiance, doubtless expecting to see me led to instant execution. But I have an instinct which tells me when a man is afraid of me, and I could see that, for the time, Surajah Dowlah was cowed.

My cousin Gurney seized this opportunity to attract the Nabob’s attention, and take credit for his exploit. He stepped towards me and said, in such Indostanee as he could command —

“Silence, wretch! Sabat Jung is in the Carnatic, nor would he dare to come into Bengal without the permission of the Lord of the English, Surajah Dowlah. When he hears of the conquest of Cossimbuzar and Fort William the heart of Sabat Jung will become as water.”

I gave him a scornful look.

“If his Highness judges of the English by you he will be deceived,” I said. “If you were ever to show your face in any place where Sabat Jung was he would have you hanged, as you very well know.”

I kept my eyes fixed on the young Nabob’s face as I spoke, and was pleased to see that I had made an impression. He looked uneasily from one to the other of us, and then, before Rupert could reply, ordered us both from his presence.

I found myself kept a close prisoner for that night and a part of the next day in the house of a rich Indian, which stood beside the Morattoe ditch. From this place I could hear some noise of guns occasionally, and was obliged to conjecture how the fight was going on. There was something very trying and painful in being near enough to a battle-field to share its anxieties without being allowed to join in the work. But I had a pretty sure presentiment that the affair would end badly for us, and so indeed it proved; for about four in the afternoon there was a great commotion outside the place where I was confined, and my guards came in to fetch me, telling me with cruel pleasure that Fort William had surrendered, and I was to be brought there to join the other prisoners.

I will not stay to describe the confused spectacle of the streets through which we passed on our way to the fort. What struck me most, and put a deep depression upon my spirits, was to see the fierce exultation of the native Indians in our discomfiture. In this hour of our overthrow these men, who had lived unmolested beneath our government, and thriven by means of our commerce, openly revealed all that vehement malice and hatred toward us which is, I suppose, part of their nature, and not to be eradicated by any fairness of dealing. I should be ashamed to relate the vile things they said, and their gross behaviour, as I was led along a prisoner. I thank God I have since walked through those same streets in a different trim, and had those same wretches bowing and grovelling on the earth as I passed.

When I arrived at the fort I was horrified to find gathered there a large company of other English prisoners, to the number of about a hundred and fifty. Among them were both the Honourable Robert Byng and Mr. Holwell, who received me with surprise, having been assured by those men who had fought under me that they had seen me slain. Immediately after my joining them Mr. Holwell, who had become the chief of the party, was sent for by the Nabob to be examined. While he was away Mr. Byng told me the miserable circumstances of the capture of the fort, and how the Governor, Mr. Drake, had shamefully fled away overnight in a boat to the ships on the first alarm of the enemy’s approach. Not content with this, he had carried off the whole of the shipping down the river to Govindpore, thus rendering hopeless the case of the English who had not escaped along with him, and that although it would have been easy to rescue them by sending a few boats to the shore. Of this, which I believe to be the most signal act of cowardice ever heard of, I forbear to write, lest I should fall into the use of opprobrious language. Yet I have often marvelled that those who had poor Mr. Byng – I mean the Admiral – shot on his own quarterdeck for his failure at Minorca, should have refused a gallows and a hempen noose to one who so richly deserved it as Governor Drake.

While Mr. Holwell was with the Nabob the rest of us stood under a strong guard in the courtyard of the fort, where we began to find the heat very burdensome, the more so as it was difficult to get anything to eat or drink. While we were thus situated I saw my cousin Rupert go by, wearing a rich new turban, to wait upon the Nabob. At this period he appeared to be in high favour at the Court. No doubt he had acquired influence with Surajah Dowlah by flattering his superiority to the English.

Mr. Holwell presently returned with the news that Surajah Dowlah was very much incensed against him, on account of the small sum found in the treasury of the fort, which amounted only to 54,000 Rs. The prince was firmly persuaded that the Company had somewhere concealed a vast treasure, which had been his principal motive to push the attack of the place. He had threatened Mr. Holwell very severely unless this treasure were found, and dismissed him to consult with his fellow-prisoners. This was bad news, for it was evidently impossible to persuade Surajah Dowlah that there was no such treasure, and he would therefore be inclined to look upon Mr. Holwell’s failure to discover it as mere obstinacy.

We were discussing our prospects very gloomily when a party of Moors arrived, bringing two fresh prisoners. I felt a sudden sickness when I recognised that these were none other than Marian herself with her father. Old Mr. Rising seemed to be dazed, and unconscious of what was happening to him, but Marian was suffering from visible terror. I hastened to her side, exclaiming —

“Marian, what do you do here? Why are you not gone with the other women?” – for all the Englishwomen and children had been put aboard the ships as soon as the Moors arrived outside the town.

Marian looked surprised and a little comforted to meet me in the same situation as herself.

“So you are a prisoner too!” she cried. “I confess I do not understand what has happened to my father and me, for Rupert especially enjoined and urged us to remain in our house, assuring us that his credit with the Nabob would serve not merely to protect us, but to secure high places and rewards for himself, which he intended I should share.”

She said this with a certain shame, but I was too anxious for her safety to retain my feelings of jealousy at such a moment.

“I will send for Gurney to come here,” I said. “I have just seen him go into the Nabob’s presence.”

I called one of the men who kept guard over us, and bade him go instantly and fetch my cousin. The Moor showed some disinclination to obey me, but I repeated my command in a tone so firm that he gave way, and sullenly complied.

In a minute or two Rupert came out, looking bewildered, and, I thought, somewhat alarmed. As soon as he saw who it was that had sent for him, however, his assurance returned, and he came to us with a jaunty air.

“Ha! Marian,” he said, taking no notice of me, “so you have found your way here, have you? I am pleased to greet you; but if you have sent for me to ask me to procure the release of your other admirer, whom I took prisoner yesterday, I must tell you fairly that I am not the least inclined to do it.”

“Nay, Rupert,” she answered, “I am ashamed to say that I had not thought of asking you anything on your cousin Athelstane’s behalf. ’Tis I and my father who are now prisoners, in spite of your pledges to us. Surely you will not suffer this!”

Thus she spoke to him, but, ah! not in the old self-confident strain, but with a certain mournful submission which wrung my very heartstrings.