Chapter XIV
OF MY LEAVING THE CITY OF THE GREAT MOGUL IN THE COMPANY OF ONE THAT HAD NOT ENTERED THEREIN WITH ME.
Now because of this strange chance that was come to me--viz., to discover the Viscount de Galampré in a mean disguise in the city of Agra--I was much plunged in thought, and this of so opposite a nature, that it pulled me two ways at once. For since I had left Surat, and undertaken this journey that had brought me already so tremendous a surprise, I had been able to contemplate with, I trust, a more wholesome and sound mind, my passion for Madam Heliodora and the consequences that had followed thereon. For that which I had seen, though dimly, even when I was still pressing my suit upon her, and now perceived clearly, and blushed to perceive it--namely, my great presumption in so addressing myself to her--seemed to me to bring a perpetual sting in the remembering it, so that I wondered how I had ever had the face to look for any answer other than that I got. It had rightly served me had my lady called upon her father to chastise me for my intolerable rudeness, but in the stead thereof she had listened to me patiently, and counselled me with such kindness and gentleness as seemed to me almost angelical. More than this, she had done me the honour to tell me of her contract with Mons. de Galampré, which she might well have kept to herself, but deigned in her kindness to impart to me, and this piece of news I, in my blindness, had received worse than all that went before, and hated without cause the gentleman that it concerned.
Nay, had it not been for the extraordinary liking I conceived for this excellent person when he was still in his disguise, and his name and quality unknown to me, I had still, as I was fain to confess, remained in this uncharitable and unchristian temper. But now, having seen him and noted the fire and ardour wherewith he did thirst for news of my lady his mistress, I was seized with pity for him,--in part, I don’t doubt, because from my own example I knew well the pangs and torments of a love that seemed hopeless. I was never one to be able to go with that poet that consoles himself for the unkindness of his mistress by declaring that if she scorn him, he will scorn her scorn and turn his vows elsewhere, and I considered still that my life was blighted and that no happiness was ever to be found for me in love, but it seemed to me that ’twould ease my sad heart to bear some part in making those happy that deserved the same but wan’t like to attain thereto. And this feeling was strengthened by the viscount himself, when I had occasion to desire him next to visit me, upon some mischance that was happened to Mr Kidder’s stop-watch.[120]
“I am sorry to incommode you again so soon, sir,” said I.
“Sir,” says he, “the agreeableness of your discourse hath left me longing for this day since last I saw you. You did bestow upon me then new life, and yet I han’t never ceased teasing myself with questions that I should have asked of you, but had forgot. You can’t tell, sir, what it is to me to hear credible intelligence from one that hath himself seen my friends. During these four years I have taught myself to regard Mademoiselle de Tourvel almost as though she were dead, so entirely did she seem lost to me, but your coming has awakened again in me such a flood of thoughts as that I can scarce contain myself for eagerness to get some satisfaction of ’em.”
And with that he poured out such a throng of questions touching Madam Heliodora that I was moved almost to tears to perceive how he must have noted and remembered every particular of her daily life. And perceiving from my answers, as I suspect, the respect and admiration that possessed me towards this noble lady, he did open his heart to me still further, discoursing upon her many perfections in a strain of such lofty and yet tender eulogy, as I had never imagined outside the covers of a romance, so that I, listening, felt more than ever ashamed of the cursed presumption of my behaviour, since I had gone so far (though only in my own mind) as to disparage my lady for her insensibility towards me. What chance, pray, had I had, even though I had been as worthy of my lady as I was in reality unworthy, to gain a heart garrisoned with the remembrance of such a love as this? And here the viscount, seeing in my countenance how deeply I was moved, looked upon me sadly, though without any bitterness, and said--
“Ah, sir, sure you are happier than I, for you have seen her later. Was ever so much beauty and virtue enclosed before in a single form? Can you wonder that her image is impressed upon my heart, and that since I can’t behold my lady herself, I seize the occasion to discourse with one that hath both seen and spoke with her? You are free to depart, you may perhaps enjoy the felicity of beholding her once more, though you have remained insensible to her perfections, while I, to whom she is as much as all the world, must stay here a prisoner.”
And with that he left speaking, and remained for some time plunged in melancholy, while I considered his words, though not without some pain, and took counsel with myself whether I might in any way help him. And venturing to interrupt his melancholical musings by declaring respectfully my desire and readiness to assist him, he looked up with his usual cheerfulness, and answered--
“Sir, you have very much helped me already, and do continue to help me so long as you are good enough to speak to me of my lady and to let me speak with you of her. I don’t know why I should thus burden you with my sad and passionate humours, but I have feared now and again lest I should go mad through having none with whom I might speak on this topic, and in you I find always a sympathy that encourages me to continue.”
Methought that I might well have sympathy with him, since my case was even worse than his own; but this I did not say, only declaring to him that whatever I might do for his comfort should be done, and entreating him to take courage and look confidently for deliverance and enlargement. And this he did, following my counsel with a very childlike and perfect trust in God that moved me to admiration, since he strove always to accustom himself to the will of Providence, and would pass quickly from despondency to comfort, reminding himself of the many blessings he enjoyed that one in his situation could not have looked for nor expected.
And this I may as well say now as afterwards--viz., that that which time led me most to admire in this gentleman was that he bare all untoward chances with a great patience, receiving them as from the hand of God, which at first did much surprise me; for my bane in life hath ever been a certain heat and rashness, such as hath carried me on without reflection to do deeds that had been better undone. And these deeds once done, ’twas natural to me to sit down in a sort of sullenness and as it were pagan resignation, as who should say, _’Tis done now, and can’t be undone. Let Fortune do her worst. ’Tis naught to me._ But the viscount was wont to take the buffets of fate most calmly, as though they were but parts of a lesson that it should be well for him to learn, and to strange chances and vicissitudes he endeavoured always to fit himself, since it was God’s will for him to undergo them. And I once making him some compliment upon the firmness and constancy of his carriage, “Mr Carlyon,” says he, “you don’t know what it is to belong to an oppressed people. In France we Hugonots are thankful if it be permitted us to breathe in peace, and we are glad to seize upon any opportunity of quiet living that offers itself without dishonour. ’Tis a good school for the teaching contentment.”
And I, truly, agreed with him in this, yet must you not think that he was one of those poor and feeble spirits that seek any shelter rather than face the storm. Of his exploits as a soldier and a captain I need not speak, for all the world knows on’t, yet this I would say,--that in all the rubs and petty trials of that adventure which we did afterwards undertake together, I found him to be at once a most daring and experienced leader, and also the most cheerful and pleasant companion that ever a man had. Of his bravery at this time I will speak in its place, but so indifferent was he to all the praise and credit offered him later upon the matter, that he would put it aside with a laugh, and profess himself to dislike that topic. In a word, he proved himself to me the kindest and sprightliest of _cameradoes_, and this none the less that in ignorance of the cause I had for sadness, he did discourse to me continually regarding her that was the reason on’t, and look for me to declare my sympathy with him. But in all that I saw of him (and this wan’t little, since he did speedily made it his custom, without any pretext of business, to spend great part of every day discoursing with me at my lodging in the _caravan-serawe_) I perceived only the more clearly how much better he was fitted than I to awaken the love of Madam Heliodora, and called myself dolt and fool for my ever imagining that I could prevail against him. Also the more I felt my inferiority compared with him, the more I found myself possessed with a prodigious affection for him, and a desire to do what I might for the restoring so excellent a person to the happiness he so well deserved. And this without prejudice to my own resentiments[121] towards her ladyship; for so sadly and yet so tenderly did I feel towards her now, when I saw my love to be without any disguise altogether hopeless, that it seemed to me I would fain see these two happy, and would then be willing to die. But in thinking thus I was ignorant of my own self.
And now I did begin to cudgel my brains for to discover in what manner I might effect the escape of the viscount from this city, and his safe conveying to some port whence he might take ship for France. And first I spake concerning this to our friend the physician, that had first made the viscount known to me; but to my no small surprise, as soon as ever I had opened the matter to him, he clapped his hands to his ears, and cried, as though in great fear--
“Don’t speak on’t to me, sir, I entreat you. I am in his majesty’s confidence, and can’t listen to anything that might touch his state. I don’t dare meddle in this matter of yours further than to counsel you most strongly against making any such attempt to carry our friend out of the city. ’Tis my only hope, to be able to say truly that I know naught of your plan, and did also scout most vehemently the very suggestion on’t.”
Much admiring the good man’s prudence and wisdom, I next applied myself to sound, as the seamen say, Mr Kidder, but with the same result, namely, that I was straitly forbid to involve the embassage in any such mad folly, and warned against mixing myself up therewith, our chief declaring that ’twould undo the work of years, were the Company to be suspected of lending aid to the enemies of the emperor, and in especial to the friends of Seva Gi. And upon this I found that I was thrown back upon myself, and wasted much time in trying to devise plots whereby, in our return from Agra, I might carry the viscount with us in some manner of disguise. For I feared very greatly that, even should I get him safely beyond the city gates, Mr Kidder, urged on by Mr Spender (that affected to disbelieve my friend’s history of himself, and jeered at me perpetually for consorting with jail-birds), might, on discovering the truth, give him up again to the emperor’s officers, and so render his plight worse than ever before. But God, knowing the hard task I was fain to attempt, and my small power of succeeding therein, did come to my help with a certain change and distraction of our plans that wrought for me all I desired.
For to such a pass was the negotiations with Auren Zeeb now come, that Mr Kidder was desirous to send word to Mr President at Surat, and gain his instructions upon the matter, and to this end he determined to despatch me thither. Being loath to part with me, that was wont always to play the interpreter for him, he would fain have sent Mr Spender, but that this gentleman was still too poorly acquainted with the Indosthan tongue to go on such a journey by himself, and having the Armenians to be his mediators with the emperor, he resolved at last to let me depart. But desiring to know somewhat concerning a part of the Mogul’s dominions that an’t commonly visited by persons from Europe, he bid me not return by Oudyepour, as we had come, but by way of Gualleyor and Zauncy,[122] two great towns, very strongly defended, that lie to the south of Agra. And with this intent he procured for me the emperor’s _pharmaund_, giving me authority to travel where I would, with my servants and attendants, and with the help of this piece of writing, methought I ought to succeed in my great purpose.
And first I consented with myself to reveal my intention to none but to my servant Loll Duss, whom I knew to be faithful to me, and with him to devise my plans. Mr Kidder had begged of me not to carry with me any more of the servants of our party than I should actually need, but to hire _cooleys_ (which is carriers), and other attendants, from town to town. And this being so, of our own Surat men I took with me only Loll Duss, together with my cook, a Moor that was named Eusoff,[123] and an ancient Mogul soldier named Darah, for to look to the hired _cooleys_. To these two I allowed Loll Duss to open our scheme, knowing that they might be trusted, and needing their help to carry it out, but they were instructed by no means to confide the same to any of the Agra men that should accompany us. And next I told the viscount of my purpose, and of the sorry part he needs must play, and, silencing his words of surprise and gratitude, bade him come to the _caravan-serawe_ before daylight on the morning of the day when we should start. I don’t know how he succeeded in leaving the palace at such an hour unperceived, but God did so order it that he fell in with no one, and outside the _caravan-serawe_ Loll Duss met him and carried him quickly to the stable where I was, looking to the packing of all my equipage. Here were, beside our three selves, namely I, the viscount, and Loll Duss, only Eusoff and Darah, and our business was stowing all our necessaries for the journey in those great baskets wherein the Moguls use to carry victuals and other such things. Then in one of these we hid the viscount, and fastened down the cover on’t, though leaving him a due space to breathe, and those victuals and packets that should have been in that basket we did put into my _palenkeen_, which was carried with us lest I should tire of riding. And all the baskets being now filled, the _cooleys_ come in and took ’em away, Darah going with ’em, and all passed through the gate as soon as it was opened, the sun being up. I had bid them tarry for me at a certain village some five miles on our road, where was a rest-house, wherein I was minded to pass the heat of the day, but I myself and those with me did not start yet for some hours.
And these hours I did feel to be the longest I had ever spent, such was my terror lest the viscount’s absence should be observed, or some chance lead to his discovery among my goods. I was fain to comfort myself with the remembrance of the great Seva Gi himself, who with his son escaped safely in this manner, but ’twas extreme difficult for me to show myself calm and careless until after I had bid farewell to Mr Kidder and his fellows (Mr Spender taunting me at the last with leaving my jail-bird to his jailers again, spite of all my fair words), and also to our kind friend the doctor, and to the Armenians that had been our _druggermen_ about the city. But at the last I was able to set forth, having my banner carried before me very seemly, and I riding upon a fine horse, with my _palenkeen_ awaiting my disposition if I so pleased, and so went through the city and out at the gate with great pomp.
Now I had had some fear lest the officers of the gate should desire to look inside the _palenkeen_, but even so I hoped to beguile them, since they should find therein only my stuff, though this should have frustrated my design with respect to the bearers, who I desired should believe that there was a sick man inside. But as it so chanced, we were let pass without any molestation, and travelling at a fair pace, I riding beside the _palenkeen_ as though to cheer him that was therein, came to the rest-house before the great heat came on. And here I found the baskets and other packages all piled up on the _veranda_, and Darah and the _cooleys_ awaiting my pleasure. But having had my _palenkeen_ carried into the house, I dismissed the _cooleys_ for to take their noontide sleep, as also those that were come with me, and with my own three men released the viscount from his wattled prison, and allowed him to walk up and down inside the house, Loll Duss keeping guard the while. But when the time was come that we should start again, we put into the basket those things that had been in the _palenkeen_, and the viscount lay down therein in their place, the blinds being close drawn, for ’twas of chiefest importance that the hired _cooleys_ from Agra should not see the face of their passenger, and recognise the _Ferringhee_. And having made this fresh disposition of our affairs, we started again on our way with much cheerfulness.
Now in this manner we did journey on during certain days, going as fast as we might without awaking suspicion of our designs, the viscount riding always in my _palenkeen_, and able to walk about and refresh himself only at night and at noonday. But on arriving at the great fortress of Gualleyor, we dismissed our Agra _cooleys_ and saw them safely on their way home again, with a liberal present and encamped ourselves in a grove of trees without the city, for I feared prodigiously being shut up with walls and bars, like rats in a trap. For this town of Gualleyor is a place of much strength, and the Moguls use to keep their prisoners of state there, so that ten times in a day, when I looked up to the great fortress that has the air of some huge lion crouching on his hill, I felt a chill in my very bones to think of being shut up there, for our friend the doctor had told us many fearful tales respecting it. Nevertheless, I went to and fro in the place, and observed it so far as I might for Mr Kidder, and bought there a horse, _ready for my friend when he should be able to ride_, as I said to him that sold it me. And at this place we hired _cooleys_ for to go with us as far as to Zauncy, the viscount now, when we were gat well beyond the city, riding part of the day on horseback instead of in the _palenkeen_, for to seem as though he were just recovering of his illness.
At Zauncy we hired new _cooleys_ to go with us the whole of the way as far as to Broach, which is near the sea-coast not much north of Surat, and began to hope that we were pretty well beyond the danger of pursuit. And now the viscount left using the _palenkeen_ at all, and rid all day beside me, and a mighty agreeable fellow I found him. His looks also was now much amended, since Loll Duss had dressed his hair for him, and trimmed his beard into a neat picked[124] shape, for he would not have it shaved off, since (says he) the beard is a badge of our Hugonot religion in France. We were both habited after the Moorish fashion, so as to escape remark from the people, that are prodigious fanatical in these parts, and thus disguised, we hoped to pass for Moguls from the north, in especial as both our faces were now much darkened with the sun. Thus we rid on, enjoying much goodly and profitable discourse together by day, and at night sojourning always in villages or on the outskirts of towns, but never in the _caravan-serawes_ within their walls. This measure of precaution seemed to me quite necessary, but since we were come so far in safety, I thought little of taking any other; but in these things my friend was wiser than I, he looking at ’em with the eye of a soldier, that sees everywhere an enemy save where he knows a friend to be. I had observed that the viscount was always forward to examine narrowly every new tract of country that we reached before ever we passed through it, but this I set down to his desire for knowledge, little guessing that he was planning and rehearsing battles, surprises, ambuscadoes, retreats, and divers other such warlike notions. But this ignorance and carelessness of mine was to receive a wholesome rebuke, and my friend’s foresight a most signal justification.
“Sir,” says he, riding back to me one day when as we were coming down a steep hillside into a valley very thick with woods, “do you perceive the nature of the place through which our road now lies? Here is a spot most convenient of all for an ambuscado, and ’twill surprise me much if it ben’t made use on. With your permission, I’ll take three or four of the servants as skirmishers, and send ’em in advance on either side of the train.”
“Methinks the Moors are scarce like to look at this point with your eye, which is that of a captain, sir,” said I; “but prythee, take the servants as you desire, and do your will. There is little possibility that those we have most cause to fear are here before us, but it may be that there is Rashpoot robbers laying wait for us, conceiving that we carry with us greater riches than we do.”
“Let me entreat you to keep your servants well in line, sir,” said he, “and to suffer no loitering, for I am persuaded there is danger before us in this valley.”
With that he took as many of the servants as he desired (for beside _cooleys_, we had now with us some ten or a dozen Moors, hired at Zauncy for to protect us through this wild country, and furnished with bucklers of skins and their strange crooked _cimeters_), and bid them search the wood on either side of the road, proceeding with great circumspection, and seeking to surprise the surprisers. Now our _cooleys_, observing these precautions, did not, as you would expect, feel all the safer by reason of the caution of their masters, but became pale and trembled greatly, so as their knees knocked together, and I saw that they were ready to run away if the slightest mischance should occur. Wherefore I placed the Moors so as to hinder them in this intention, and bade ’em cut down the first _cooley_ that tried to flee; and having mustered the whole train into as compact a body as I could, we entered upon the road through the valley. Now at our first entrance thereon, I noted this, that whereas in such places the birds of the forest were used to rise up and fly about on our appearing, here they were already seeming troubled and disturbed, and wheeling about among the trees as if distressed. Loll Duss come close to me on seeing this, and _Master_, says he, _there’s men in this jungle_ (which is their name for a wood). And on this strange confirming of my friend’s suspicions I was at first took aback, but quickly reflecting that there wan’t no way of continuing our journey save by passing through this wood, we went on without remark.
But now, when we were about coming to a spot where the road lay very low between two high banks, there come to our ears on a sudden a noise from that on the right hand, as of a struggle and a fall, and then the firing of a pistol. Looking immediately to our arms, we halted for to await the foe, and ’twas well indeed we did so, for with a most dreadful noise there come about our ears a whole hail of matchlock-bullets, and before we might even determine whence these were, men began rushing upon us from both banks with divers weapons. It so happened that I had under my Moorish cassock my own hanger and pistols girt about my waist, beside the dagger that the Moors carry, and these stood me in good stead, for the robbers all come at me, and for a time I was in the midst of a whole rabblement of ’em, they trying to drag me from off my horse or to disable me, but not anxious, so far as I could see, to kill me. So desperate was their attempt, that for a time I thought myself lost; but succeeding in maintaining my ground against their assaults, I did withstand them until Loll Duss came to my help, my two other servants and the hired Moors being engaged upon the outskirts of the crowd, and the viscount and his skirmishers in a brisk battle on the banks above, where some of the ambushment had stayed for to resist ’em.
So close was we all packed in the narrow road, that there was no room for any battle-array nor show of military skill, for each man must needs fight hand-to-hand for his own life. And this we did without much result for some time, the _cooleys_ baulking us grievously in our movements, and raising lamentable cries to their false gods to save ’em; but at length the viscount, having vanquished his foes upon the heights, brought his men down to our assistance, who fell upon the enemy with such hearty goodwill that such of them as was able quickly made shift to flee away by the road which we were come. And we, dreading their return with greater numbers, did only collect our own wounded to carry with us, making no attempt to secure any prisoners, and so went on again. But when we were started, up come to me and my friend my servant, Loll Duss.
“Master,” says he, “these men that we have conquered an’t Rashpoots. They are Moors, the emperor’s men, and they were sent to carry your honours back to Agra, alive or dead.”
“How do you know this, Loll Duss?” says I, in a grievous trouble of mind, for (thought I), if the news of the viscount’s evasion be gone before, sure the whole country will be raised against us.
“I have questioned one on ’em who is wounded,” said he, and returned to his place.
“What think you of this turn, sir?” says I to my friend.
“That ’tis a move of our adversary that will need some calculation for the defeating on’t,” says he, smiling, and taking his figures from the game of chess; “with your permission, sir, we will meditate our counter-move.”
And he rid on in silence, yet pondering deeply, as his face showed. And with this I was content, knowing that he was well seen in all manner of warlike shifts and devices, having been trained in the Low Countries under that most famous captain, the Mareschal Turenne, so that I could not doubt but that he would find some means for to extricate us from our perils. And indeed, before we had left the valley, he turned himself towards me with a smile.
“I don’t doubt, sir,” says he, “that you are already arrived at the same decision as I--namely, that we must avoid all the towns, where the Moguls have garrisons, and seek shelter only in the small villages, where there an’t sufficient force for to detain us, even though the bruit concerning us may have reached ’em. Nor is this all, for we must leave all thoughts of travelling with a safe-conduct in virtue of the emperor’s _pharmaund_, which should ruin us the rather, and instead of going on our way, and proceeding to the sea-coast, where we are looked for, must turn our steps to the south, and our minds to Seva Gi, the only man that can help us at this pinch.”
“But, sir,” I cried, “do you propose to traverse all India? Here are we in the Mogul’s dominions, and you speak quite coolly of seeking refuge in the Moratty country.”
“On this,” says he, “hangs our lives, so far as I can see. Pray, sir, if the sea-coast be closed against us, what chance have we but to outgo the emperor’s commands and reach the border before ’em? Rumours spread quickly in this country, but I dare be bound that they won’t be so quick nor so precise but we may succeed in outrunning ’em by means of forced marches. Hereon turns our fate. In the way we have pursued hitherto, they are watching against our passage, while in turning to the south we may make a certain distance before they suspect our design.”
I could not bring forward any reason sufficiently strong to weigh against this, though it irked me much to think that an Englishman must needs present himself as a suppliant at the court of this Moratty king; but I admired prodigiously the quick motions of the viscount’s mind, perceiving that Seva Gi was in truth the only man that in this strait could avail to protect us against the Moguls, and could further, by his power over the country of Conchon, bring us safely without let or hindrance to the very gates of Surat. Therefore I consented with my friend to the plan; and after consulting with Darah and Loll Duss, we turned off our road towards the south, purposing to seek out some trustworthy person that might guide us on our journey, since we knew next to nothing of the way we must take, nor even whether the Moguls were posted thickly therein or not. And herein were we in a strait, for we were resolved to avoid all towns and places where much people should be likely to be gathered.
Towards evening we arrived in a certain small village, where we found lodging, though poor and mean enough, hard by the _mosch_[125] where the people worshipped, and here we were glad enough to rest--the viscount placing sentinels and seeing to their relief with an air of as great gravity as if in some great war of Europe. The night passed without any alarm; but in the morning, when we were about breaking our fast, Loll Duss come to us wearing a lamentable countenance, and saying that certain of our hired servants refused to go with us any further, being afraid to disoblige the emperor. They also, said Loll Duss, had discovered by the discourse of the wounded what they would be at; and having advised together in the night touching the matter, had consented[126] to have no further hand in our adventure. I looked at the viscount on hearing this, as wondering how he should take it, for indeed I, as a simple merchant, did give up to him the conduct of affairs now that we were in a strait wherein he, as a soldier, was so much fitter to act than I.
“Let ’em go,” says he. “We might carry ’em on with us by force of arms, but they should be a weakness rather than a strength to us, and might destroy us at some critical point. Do you advise with ’em, sir, and dismiss ’em, as many as desire to leave us.”
Upon this I went out to the men, and found them to look both surly and rebellious, so that I saw them to be capable of much mischief if they pleased; but I was ready to disappoint them, if they desired to come to a tussle with us, and did but tell them (though I won’t say but that I did handle them pretty roughly in what I said) that we desired no cowards to company with us, nor men false to their salt, and bid ’em return from whence they came. Then the greater part of them departed, though with much muttering and some angry words; but there remained certain honest fellows that said they had ate of my salt (which is their way of saying that they were bound to me in honour), and would not go. Then with these I ordered afresh the burdens that must be carried, leaving behind such things as we could well do without, and with this diminished band we prepared to set forth.
But here we were met by a new difficulty, for the people of the village, though we had rewarded ’em richly for the lodging they had furnished us, gathered themselves together across our path, and would not suffer us to pass, declaring that we were enemies of the emperor, and that they would stop us and give us up to him. And at first I did essay to win them over by smooth words and much persuading in their own tongue, but in vain, and then gave place to the viscount. He, commanding four of our men to prepare torches, and to stand with ’em close to the nearest houses, drew up the train in array, with the carriers in the midst, and setting himself at the head, spake to the villagers, promising them that he would set their houses on fire if they did not give place immediately. And when the people, being mightily concerned for their dwellings--for these were but poor huts roofed with grass, that was dry and would burn like tinder--brake their rank and began to consult together, he gave the signal to start, and so led on with a great rush that took us well past ’em before they so much as perceived our intention.
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