Little Coo-Coo,

Otago Witness, Issue 1158, 7 February 1874, Page 20

Little Coo-Coo,

OR THE KHITMUTGAR'S REVENGE. A TALK OP TUB INDIAN MUTINY, IS FOUR OHAPTBRS. CHAPTER HI.— THE STORM BURSTS. I crept back to tho room where poor Estelle was now tossing, fever-stricken, on my bed, and met Fred in uniform, with his sword on, coming out. He shook , my hand, pointed silently to hia wife, and passed on. I entered, and sat down beside Dr. O'Brien, but we spoke not a word. ! Soon we heard the bugle sound for ■

parade, then the measured tramp of menand the trot of the cavalry, and then the! bands struck up merrily a lively quick step' (the Dead March would have been more in, unison with the state of our hearts). After what seemed to us a long interval, the music ceased ; there was a dead ' silence, • broken by a few ringing words •of corii-i mand ; then silence again,' for • an instant) only, and then a curious rattling sbun'dj , followed by the noise of many feet running swiftly down the roadi ' Dr. O'Brien put his hand quickly to his breast, while I, with a ghastly'face, felt in my pocket for that tiny bottle which might prove a welcome friend to poor Estelle and me '; then he went tb the window, looked out (the steps were now far off on the road to Cawnpore, not coming nearer as we at first feared), and gave a long sigh of relief. "Thank God,' Mrs. Burgoyne, it' has succeeded"?" ' ' What ' "it " r was I did not know then, but I took comfort from the hopefulness of his tone, and the long strain 'over, wept like a child. I had often laughed at the worthy doctor and mac le fun 1 of his, brogue, but I doubt if the purest Tuscan would have sounded sweeter in my ears than his broad Cork accent did at that moment. In half an hour my husband and Fred returned with beaming faces,- and then Iknew, for the first time, how they had gone forth that morning literally with their lives in their hands, Colonel Bose, a man whose name, a few weeks later, rang through the length and breadth of India, and for whose loss all England mourned, had planned and executed a scheme, which for its rare pluck and matchless daring has rarely been excelled, and circumstances incidentally favoured the carrying out of that scheme, without affording the guilty parties the slightest cause to think themselves suspected. A " burra (great) parade" had been ordered to take place on the morning of the intended outbreak, and of this, fortunate circumstance the Colonel took advantage. The artillery, their three guns loaded with grape (this fact, however, being known only to the gunners), were drawn up, facing the two disaffected regiments, and close to the place where Colonel Rose with his staff, mounted, were standing. To the right were our gallant 133 rd, and to the left the irregular cavalry, whose fidelity was as yet anything but certain. The tainted regiments first marched past, their bauds playing and colours flying. They were a fine-looking set of men, and to look at them, no one would have thought that in their midst that day black sedition and hideous murder lurked. They went through several manoeuvres, finally drawing up in line for hedge firing ; and it was now time for the cavalry and artillery to join in. Quick as lightning the Colonel dismounted, and going up to the nearest gun, took a lighted fuse from the hand of the gunner who served it, and with it in his right hand, ready to apply in a second, his left leaning on the gun, he gave the order, in his clear ringing tones, to "pile arms."* There was silence for ono second, and then — the Seapoys of the suspected corps, completely off their guard, and struck stupid with amazement at' the unexpectedness of the order, threw down their weapons, tore off their cross-belts, and in two minutes after both regiments were rushing pell mell, in dire conftision, down the Cawnpore road. Seven troopers of the Cavalry followed their example, and putting spurs to their horses golloped after them ; the others held their ground, and as the last sounds of the retreating footsteps died away in the distance, there rose from the ranks of the English regiment cheer after cheer, which were taken up by the neighbouring echo and repeated again and again. Such cheers, the unburdening of hundreds of hearts, the hearts, many of them, of husbands and fathers, which had brooded for weeks past silently over a danger which all recognised, but which from its insidious and hidden nature they had been xmtil then helpless to grapple with. The cavalry remained immovable until this demonstration was over, and then old Mor Singh and another trooper left their places in the ranks, and approaching the Colonel, salaaming profoundly, begged to assure him, on the part of the whole regiment, that those whose fathers or themselves had, many of them, fought under the English at Chillianwalla or Sobraon were not now about to prove unfaithful to their salt, and that as for those seven recreant troopers, the curses of the whole regiment, whose "abroo," or honour, they had taken, went with them, and they would surely come to ill. This declaration of allegiance the Colonel accepted in brief well-chOsen words, promising that the behaviour of the regiment should not fail to be reported by him to higher authorities. ' As he remounted his horse, there burst forth another hearty English cheer, and I doubt if there were a man present that day who would not willingly have followed his lion-hearted ■ leader there and ' then 'to

* A somewhat similar exploit was \ti6rforhifedbyj General Johu NloUolBOJ), vide Koyrs <f l4vep of JodtmjOffluere,"

meet death, ay in its most appalling form.' * Such was the tale my husband and Estelle's had to tell, and what I felt on hearing it I need scarcely say. But there was more to come. "Mrs. Burgoyne,"said Fred, "of all black-hearted villains, that servant of mine whom you so disliked is the blackest."; ' " What, Alladeen V\ , 'said 1, . not one, '■whit' surprised. "Yes," he' replied'; "he was one off the chief ringleaders of the mutiny which 1 we have just quelled. Thank God he has' been arrested, and with several others' will "be' blown,, from a gun to-morrow; morning." * , , "Fred, Fred," I cried, a thought strik- '< ing me, "is it' not likely that Alladeen may he at the bottom of the child's disappearance ? ' For ' God's ..sake , make him speak before it be too late ! ' If that poor girl he not relieved from her agonising' suspense, and that soon, I verily believe it' will kill her." , , ' Till that moment I think he had almost , forgotten his wife and his own bitter sorrow'; but then, looking tip, with an ex-" pression of helpless grief that I have only' seen once in a strong man's face, thank God, he bowed his head oh his hands, and great scalding drops trickled through his fingers.' I' left him, 'for, l knew things must have gone hard indeed with Fred Wilson, that he, the great muscular Saxon, should cry like a woman. When I returned, he was himself again, and preparing to visit the guard-room where Alladeen was confined. | " Pray God you may be able to give us , good news on your return !" I said. " Pray God I may !" he replied solemnly, wringing my hand. j It was late ere he came back, and Estelle had fallen into a deep quiet sleep, which induced us to hope for the best. If we only had good tidings to give her when she woke ! And this Fred seemed to think would be the case. He had seen Alladeen, and the man had at first preserved a sullen silence ; but when questioned closely and told at the same time that pardon for him was quite out of the question, and that to-morrow he must die, he had at last admitted that he knew what had become of the child, but would impart his information to none but Estelle. He was told it was impossible for j her to see him, as she was seriously ill. Very well, he said ; then he would die without telling any one if he could not see her. Cool and composed as ever lie was, with death staring him in the face. Again they expostulated with him, still with the same success, until, half frantic, Fred I left him, and between us it was arranged, with Dr. O'Brien's consent, that should Estelle be better in the morning, as we trusted she would, the prisoner, by Col- j onel Rose's permission, should be brought and confronted with her, as anything would be preferable to being left in ever- j lasting ignorance of the child's fate. All night we watched besido her, and still she slept, never stirring. At daybreak she awoke, just as Fred was anxiously bending over her. "Cheri," she said softly, "che'ri." And then we knew she was safe. It seemed a cruel thing to remind her so abruptly of her sorrow, but, what could we do ? It was the only hope that j remained ; she gladly consented to see Alladeen, and breathlessly we awaited his arrival. At seven o'clock he came, guarded by i four Europeans, a, sergeant and three privates. They led him, heavily-ironed, into Estelle's ro*om, and stood — they dared not leave him — two on either side. At sight of him Estelle shook violently and j turned very pale ; but commanding herself resolutely, she sat up in bed, holding on by the curtain, and cried hoarsely : | ''Speak, and tell me what yoti have , done with my child !" And he spoke ; but to me it was more like the hissing of a serpent than a human voice. " What have I done with your child? And why should you think I took your child ? For revenge, because you, a woman, laughed at my beard ? Psha, that would be a poor revenge ; to hide your child, and then restore her that you might love her a hundred times better than before ! Nay, that is not revenge. I have Jier not, but I know where she is and will tell you ; but first let me give you a little present she has sent you." And with a devilish expression on his face he fumbled with his manacled hands in the " himmherbnncl," or waist-cloth, which lie wore. The sergeant sprang forward, suddenly remembering that, through some negligence or oversight, they omitted to search their prisoner, and that now perhaps he mighb be in possession of some deadly drug or weapon wherewith to make away with himself, or to do some injury to Estelle. v "Here," said Alladeen, pointing to a small parcel which' lay hidden amidst the massive folds of his girdle ; "it is neither pistol nor poison ; you left me no time for either ;' but*if you are afraid, hand it to the M^ctam £ahib yourself."

, Eagerly EBtelle stretched forth her hand, and the sergeant gave the packet into her trembling little fingers.

I Bhall never forget that scene. The rough soldiers, with whom "the little missy " had been a , great pet, sympathising with the mother, kept solemn silence as she' 1 untied the knot which kept the parcel 1 "together, while the Mussulman, standing erect between his guard, stately and handsome, watched her intently with a, curious smile playing about the corners of his mouth.

The packet was well secured in three covers ; first a linen one, then a wax cloth such as is used by the natives to protect their correspondence from damp during the rainy season, then paper Avith cotton inside., ' As fast as her shaking hands would allow' lier, Estelle' tore away each successive -wrapper. When she came to the last qne, an indescribably faint sickening odour diffused itself through the room, she alone being too excited, to perceive it, and we. all started to our feet. Too late ; for ,with a smile on .her face, wondering what her child had sent her she drew forth two tiny blue shoes, a fairy pair of silken socks, and, ; O horror of horrors, the mutilated remains of two little feet severed 'above the ankle.

Then, to break the dead silence which had prevailed in the room, came a burst of awful indignation from the- throats of those five Englishmen. Fred sprang over the bed and clutched Alladeen by the throat,- and in five minutes more her Majesty's government would have been saved a charge of powder, had the soldiers not interfered. '

"You forget, sir," said the old sergeant respectfully, when Fred's iron grasp had been removed, "the man is my prisoner under sentence of death, and I am responsible for his safe custody." Then they led him off; but when he reached the door he looked back with his old imperturbable air, and said, " I would have died twenty deaths to see the English madam look as she does now. Ah, it was a noble revenge !" They placed their hands on his mouth and, shuddering, hurried him away ; and half an hour after, the vulture and the j jackal were free to banquet undisturbed on the mangled remains, if they could find them, of this arch traitor and con- j summate fiend. He died, as he had lived, careless and immovable to the last, ! secure, as his fearful creed taught him, of admission to the "regions of the blest." When the door had closed behind him, for the first few minutes we could neither of us speak for horror ; then we thought of Estelle, hoping that she had at least mercifully fallen into a state of unconsciousness of her misery. Unconscious of it, she was, poor soul, but in a different way to what we had looked for. She was sitting up in bed, playing with and crooning over the ghastly relics of her bright beaiitiful child, stroking her face with them, and chuckling to herself as she tried the dainty shoes on the poor little dead feet. "A_h," she screamed in her native tongue, "ils te vont bien n'estce pas, ma mie '?" and then would come a burst of awful laughter which made our very blood ran cold. Dr. Newton was sent for, and was apprehensive of an attack of brain-fever, and all that night we watched by her, while she tossed, about in restless fitful slumber ; but fever she had none. When day dawned we knew the truth. The mental shock, acting on a frame already enfeebled by' sorrow and sickness, had been more than she could bear, and reason had left our beloved Estelle, it -was feared for ever. The poor little remains, and all that was left of our darling, the sweet fairy child who had been a very sunbeam to us all, were buried in consecrated ground, close to the spot where poor Mrs. Vance lay. I Not there — it would have seemed a mockI er y — but inside the little station church a I fair white marble monument was erected : " In memory of Antoinette Marie, only child of Frederick Wilson, Lieutenant in Her Majesty's 133 d Regiment of Foot, and of Estelle Marguerite his wife, who was barbarously murdored in Juno 1857, I aged four years and fivo months. " (To be concluded in our next.)