Chapter VIII: In the Garden

Fortunately our friends had entered one of the loneliest portions of Delhi, where for a time they saw not a living soul, even when so many thousands were abroad; but this could not last, and some would be sure to meet them before going much further.

It was this dread that prevented them from keeping up their fastest gait, even while they were so anxious to increase the distance between themselves and their enemies.

The latter were gaining rapidly, for that peculiar "monotonous chant of frenzy," (Allah-ullah) which, once heard, can never be forgotten, sounded closer every minute.

Although Marian Hildreth had lived a number of years in Delhi, she was now in a portion that was as unfamiliar to her as the slums of Cawnpore or Lucknow. Naturally, therefore, her escort took the lead.

"Follow me as fast as you can," he whispered, increasing his speed.

The young surgeon had caught sight of a piece of broken wall of sun dried bricks on his right. One powerful leap carried him to a projection near the top, and catching the hand of Marian he drew her up beside him. The jagged pieces of wall served as well as a stair could have done, and a moment later both were on the top of a flat roofed, unoccupied building, partly in ruins.

The couple ran across the flat surface to the other side, where they found themselves facing an open space, which was the compound or garden of some wealthy native, whose house was in plain sight a hundred yards away.

It was not the place that Avery would have selected, but there was no time for choosing. Running to the edge of the roof, he dropped to the earth. The descent was about a dozen feet, and he was considerably shaken; but he did not mind that, and, steadying himself, he looked up at Marian, who was peering hesitatingly down upon him.

"Jump!" he whispered, "I'll catch you!"

With the faith of the little child leaping into the arms of its parents, she gathered her skirts about her dainty feet and dropped as lightly as a bird. The powerful Avery caught her without trouble, and placing her on the ground clasped her hand.

"The only thing to do is to hide under those trees; it isn't the best place in the world, but we have no choice."

There was some consolation in the knowledge that a wall ten feet high separated them from their enemies, though there was no telling how long that obstacle would intervene. They had but a short distance to go when they stopped beneath the shadow of a number of trees in the corner of the compound.

The street along which they were passing when observed by the mob, ran north and south. Turning to the right, the fugitives sped a short distance in an easterly direction, that being the course of the wall up which they clambered. They took to the shelter of the trees near where they dropped to the ground, which was in the southeastern corner. From this point they had a fair view of the garden and home of the wealthy native, upon whose property they were trespassers.

The house stood in the middle of the compound, which was surrounded on all sides by a wall ten feet high, composed of sun dried bricks. The roof of this house was sloped and thatched and had a long veranda in front. The high inclosing wall had but one entrance, which was from the main street, that is, the one running north and south, from which the fugitives turned off before taking refuge in the garden. Their position, therefore, was close to the street, along which the mob were hurrying in pursuit, though, as has been shown, the high wall separated the parties.

The hope of the fugitives was that their enemies would continue up the street without suspecting their refuge. Would they do so? A few minutes must tell.

"I hardly expected to find such fine grounds in this part of the city," whispered Avery, standing with the hand of Marian clasped in his own, and using his eyes and ears for all they were worth.

"They are not many in number. This must be the home of some nawab. Baird, listen! They are moving along the street just beyond this wall to the back of us. Hear them talking and cursing!"

"There is no doubt that they will search this garden, for the broken wall will suggest the means by which we eluded them."

"They will not enter there, but by the regular entrance in front of the house. What do you think? Is there any hope?"

Passing his strong arm around her waist, he drew her closer to him, held her thus a moment, pressed his lips to hers and in a low, loving, but firm voice said:

"Marian, I do not believe that we shall be alive fifteen minutes longer."

"Baird, will you do me a favor--the last that I can ask?"

"I will refuse you nothing in my power to grant."

"When all hope of escape is gone, will you shoot me dead?"

"I will," was the instant response that escaped the white lips, "and that reminds me," he added the next moment, "that one of my pistols is unloaded."

And while they stood in the heavy shadow of a mango tree, he deliberately recharged the five chambers of his revolver, as though he was making ready to engage in a shooting match with a friend.

Meanwhile the rabble on the other side of the wall was increasing in numbers every minute. Some of the most significant of their expressions were translated by Marian.

"Where did the sahib loge go?" asked one.

"They went along this road," replied another.

"They did not do so," said a third; "we ran faster than they, and we should have seen them."

"Where then can they be?"

"They have fled into one of the bungalows; likely they are among the trees of a garden; they may be close at hand."

"We will search this garden, but we may not do so without permission of the nawab."

The last remark convinced the fugitives that they were standing in the grounds of some native of note, else the mob would not have felt any hesitation about searching them without asking permission.

A minute later two of the leaders approached the entrance of the garden, and were met by the porter, who had noticed the turmoil outside. When the wish of the intruders was made known, the porter, sensible of his duty to his master, refused point blank to allow any of the party to enter the grounds.

He asserted that no one had taken refuge there, and intimated that the request of the men before him was only a thin subterfuge by which they hoped to gain plunder.

The leaders became angry, and replied that it would be impossible to keep out the mob; it was best to give permission when a refusal would only exasperate the impatient men to violence.

All this time the nawab was quietly smoking his hookah on the veranda. He left all such matters to his porter, but inasmuch as he heard every word that passed, he saw that his personal attention was needed. Rising from his lounging chair, he walked slowly forward and asked what was the matter,--as though he did not know anything about the cause of dispute.

The two leaders, who were talking angrily with the porter, used few words in making their business known. The nawab was shrewd enough to see that the easiest way out of the trouble was to compromise.

"I cannot have the crowd trampling through my grounds," said he, removing his hookah from between his lips; "but I hate the Inglese and will help kill all the Christians. Select three of your men to join you two, and do you make thorough search of all the grounds, taking good care to injure nothing. I will allow no one else to come in. You five can find the Inglese, if they are here, can you not?"

"We cannot fail," replied one of the men, both of whom were pleased by the condescension of the nawab. The mob on the outside were also suited. Many of them, believing the fugitives had taken refuge elsewhere, moved down the street, those who remained scattering so as to surround, as far as possible, the inclosing wall. The moment the fugitives should be driven from the grounds and attempt to scale the high wall, these natives meant to be on hand to secure them.

The fugitives plainly heard every word spoken, and Marian translated the whole conversation. The two believed that the decision was certain death, for it was utterly impossible for five fierce fanatics to make such a search of the grounds as they were sure to do, without finding those for whom they were looking. Indeed it was hard to see how they could fail to discover them during the first few minutes of their search.

Avery and Marian were standing erect under a large mango, whose dense shadow screened them from the sight for a distance of a rod or so, but was of no use when their enemies should come within a few paces.

"I will wait right here," he said, in a low voice, "and fight until I can fight no longer. The last bullet from my revolver shall be driven through your brain."

"Save the last for _yourself_," whispered Marian, "and give me the last but one."

"No; I shall die fighting," was the response; "I want to carry as many of them with me as I can, and unless some unexpected slip takes place, I'll thin them out considerably."

Many a time during the sepoy mutiny was this done. More than one brave officer, when he saw the wretches swarming over the vainly defended entrenchments, shot wife and daughter and then turned his pistol upon himself. It was a mercy to his loved ones that he did so.

The spokesman of the mob, having made known to them the decision of the nawab, singled out his assistants by name, and the search began.