The Coming Conquest of England

A >> August Niemann >> The Coming Conquest of England


The two men, by dint of peremptory commands and vigorous blows with the
naked sword, forced their way step by step through the crowd. But after
a lapse of ten minutes they had scarcely progressed more than a
hundred yards. The surging mob around them became even denser and more
threatening in its attitude, and Heideck saw it would be impossible to
reach the citadel.

With anxious care for the precious human lives entrusted to his
protection, he looked about for another place of safety. But the
Europeans had firmly barricaded their houses, and none of them would
have opened to admit the poor fugitives. On a sudden the wild cries
that had almost terrified the crying children to death rose to appalling
shrieks and ravings, and a mob of demons, incited by their fanatic
passions almost to frenzy, rushed from a side street straight upon
Heideck. They had somewhere on their way been joined by a large number
of other female fugitives; and the sight of these unhappy creatures made
the German officer's blood run cold in his veins.

The women, among whom were two girls yet on the borders of childhood,
had had their clothes torn from their bodies, and they were now being
hustled along under such constant ill-usage that they were bleeding from
numerous wounds.

Unable further to curb the wrath that rose within him at the sight of
this brutality, Heideck took his revolver from his belt, and with a
well-aimed shot sent one of the howling, fanatic devils to the ground.

But his action was not well-advised. Although his martial appearance had
up till then kept this cowardly crew away from acts of violence against
himself and his party, the furious rage of the mob now knew no bounds.

In the next moment the small party found itself hemmed in by a knot of
raging black devils, and Heideck was no longer in doubt that it was only
a question of bravely fighting to the death. The foremost of the more
violent of their assailants he was able to keep off by firing at them
the last five shots that remained in his revolver. The last shot snuffed
out the light of a black-bearded fellow just at the very moment when he
was attacking Edith Irwin with his brutal fists. Then Heideck threw his
revolver, useless in that he could not load it afresh, into the face
of one of the grinning fiends, and clasping his left arm, which was
now free, round Edith, and pressing her tightly to him, carried on a
desperate struggle with his sword.

For Mrs. Baird and her children he could do nothing further. Now that
he had seen his faithful Morar Gopal fall under the blows of some
Mohammedans he felt that they were irretrievably lost. He had seen how
the Colonel's wife had had her clothes torn in shreds from her body; he
heard the heartrending cry of anguish with which, under the blows and
thrusts of her inhuman torturers, she called for her children. But at
all events he was spared the agony of seeing with his own eyes the end
of the innocent little girls. They disappeared from his view in the
terrible confusion, and as they were besides already half dead from
terror, Providence would, at all events, have the pity not to let
them feel the tortures of the death which their unfeeling butchers had
prepared for them.

And what of Edith?

She was not in a faint. In her features one could read nothing of the
anguish of horror that overcomes even the bravest in the face of death.
One might imagine that all that was going on around her had lost its
terrors since Heideck's arm held her fast.

But the moment was not favourable for allowing Heideck to feel the
pleasurable bliss of her love. His strength was at an end and, although
with the exception of a slight injury on the shoulder he was unwounded,
he yet felt it intolerably hard to wield the sword whose heavy blows had
hitherto kept their assailants (with the exception of some adventuresome
spirits, who had paid dearly for their impudence) at a respectful
distance. At the very moment that fatigue compelled him to drop his
weapon, Edith and he would be given over helpless to the devilish
cruelty of this horde of human beasts. That he knew full well, and,
therefore, although before his eyes there floated, as it were, a
blood-red mist, he collected the last remnant of his strength to
postpone this terrible moment yet for a little--All of a sudden
something unexpected, something wonderful, happened--something that in
his present condition he could not understand at all; innumerable cries
of terror and alarm mingled with the frenzied, triumphant howlings of
the rage-intoxicated Indians. With the irresistible force of a wave the
whole thickly packed swarm of human beings surged forwards and against
the houses on both sides of the street. The trotting of horses, loud
words of command, the sound of slashing blows were heard, and the bodies
of bearded cavalrymen were visible above the heads of the crowd.

It was a squadron of Cossacks which was mercilessly hewing its way
through the crowd. The town was then actually in the hands of the
Russians, and orders had evidently been given, the better to prevent
further massacre and incendiarism, to clear the street of the fanatic
mob.

So the fierce-looking horsemen then swept the way before them clear
of all obstacles. And they did their business well; for nothing could
withstand the blows from the whips fitted at the end of the lash with
thin hard sticks, which in their hands became terrible instruments of
punishment.

Heideck suddenly saw himself free of his assailants, and as he with
Edith pressed against the wall of a house, they remained happily safe
from the horses' hoofs as well as from the blows of the knout which were
being dealt out wildly around him.

But the keen eyes of a Cossack officer had perceived the little group
amid the great heap of dead and wounded. He rode up to them, and as he
thought he recognised in Heideck's khaki dress the English uniform, he
gave certain orders to his men, the meaning of which was soon apparent
to them both, for they were at once placed between the horses of two
Cossacks, and without knowing whither they were being taken, passed
through the streets lit up by the flames of the burning houses.




XV

THE COURT-MARTIAL


The mausoleum of Anar Kali, a great octagonal building in the gardens to
the south of the town, was the place whither the Russian prisoners
were taken. Heideck and Edith Irwin were not the first that had found
quarters there; for, besides about a hundred officers, there were
already there numberless English ladies and children whose saviours had
appeared in time to rescue them from the horrible fate of Mrs. Baird and
her children. At the open door of the apartments reserved for the women
Heideck and Edith Irwin had to part. They were not allowed a long time
to take leave. But even if they had been altogether alone they would at
this moment have been scarcely able to find much to say; for after all
the exertions and excitements of the terrible day just ended such
heavy fatigue and exhaustion had overcome them that they could only
mechanically make use of their limbs; and so, instead of the passions,
hopes, and fears, with which they had been moved but a short time
previously, there was now only a dull void in their brains as in their
hearts.

"Au revoir, to-morrow." That was all that passed between them. Then, as
soon as they had conducted him into the room assigned to him, Heideck
threw himself down, as he was, upon the tiles of the floor, and fell
instantaneously into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The glorious Indian sun, which shone through the round opening in the
ceiling down upon his face, woke him the next morning.

His limbs were stiff from his uncomfortable couch, but the short sleep
had invigorated him, and his nerves had completely regained their old
freshness and vigour.

His room-mates must have been taken away early to some other place, for
he found himself quite alone in the lofty room which was only lighted by
the window in the ceiling. The rays of the sun fell opposite to him
upon a tomb of the purest, whitest, marble quite covered with illegible
hieroglyphics. Whilst he was still engaged in looking at the apparently
ancient memorial tablet, he heard suddenly behind him the light rustling
of a woman's dress, and when he turned round he gazed with pleasurable
surprise into Edith Irwin's pale, fair face.

"How delighted I am to find you still here," she said with a happy
expression. "I was afraid that you had been taken away with the other
prisoners."

"As it seems, it was out of consideration for my well-deserved slumber,"
he replied, with a slight trace of humour. But then, remembering the
terrible seriousness of the situation, he continued in altered and
hearty tones--

"How have you passed the night, Mrs. Irwin? It appears to me as if
all that I have gone through since my return to Lahore has only been a
dream."

With a painful quiver of the lips she shook her head.

"Unfortunately, there is no room for doubt that it has been hideous
reality. Poor, poor Mrs. Baird! One must almost consider it a happy
dispensation of Providence that her husband did not live to see the
terrible fate of his family."

"What, have you news from the field of battle? Do you then know that the
Colonel is dead?"

Edith nodded.

"The Colonel is dead; my husband is dead; Captain McGregor, and many of
my friends from Chanidigot, have been left on the field."

She said it calmly; but he read in her eyes the deep sadness of her
soul.

Much affected by her heroic strength of character, he bent his head
and kissed her hand. She let him have his way for a moment, but then
withdrew her thin, cool fingers with a beseeching look, the meaning of
which he full well understood.

"The Commander-in-Chief and his staff reached the railway station,"
she continued; "they travelled to Delhi with the last train that left
Lahore, just at the eleventh hour; for immediately afterwards the
Russians entered the town. The wreck of the army is now marching to
Delhi, but their pursuers are close at their heels. God alone knows what
will be the fate of our poor defeated army."

He did not ask her where she had obtained all this information; but
that it was quite correct he was firmly convinced, judging by his own
experience. He did not know what to say to her to encourage her, he
who never had been able to toy with empty phrases. A short while they
remained silent, and their eyes simultaneously fell upon the sunlit
marble tomb before them.

"Have you seen this cenotaph before?" the young lady suddenly asked, to
Heideck's surprise. On his answering in the negative, she went on--

"This is the famous tomb of Anar Kali, the beloved wife of Sultan
Akbar, who, on account of her beauty, was given the name of 'Pomegranate
Blossom.' She probably departed this life in the same way that we should
have done if the daggers of the murderers yesterday had reached us. She,
perhaps, was just as little conscious of what was happening to her, as
we should have been in this past night."

"Can you read the inscription?" asked Heideck.

"No, but I have had it interpreted to me; for it is one of the most
famous inscriptions in India. The beautiful Anar Kali was once so
foolish as to smile when the son of her lord and master entered the
harem. And in the selfsame hour the jealous sultan had the unhappy woman
executed. But he must have loved her very dearly, for he erected to
her this beautiful memorial, which should hand down to generations yet
unborn the name of Anar Kali. So full of insoluble riddles is the poor,
foolish heart of man."

Jingling footsteps were heard on the flagstones outside, and the next
moment an officer appeared at the door accompanied by several soldiers.
In abrupt, peremptory tones he ordered Heideck to follow him.

Now, for the first time, the Captain saw in Edith Irwin's face something
like an expression of terror.

"What is the meaning of this?" She turned hastily to the Russian. "This
gentleman is not an Englishman."

The Russian did not understand the question in English; but when Heideck
asked in Russian what they were about to do with him, he replied,
shrugging his shoulders--

"I do not know. Follow me."

"They only want me to prove my identity," said Heideck composedly, in
order to calm the young lady. "I hope that they will let me free after
examining my passports."

"Certainly they must let you go!" she cried, almost passionately. "It
would be against all the laws of nations if they were to do you any
harm. But how shall I endure the uncertainty as to your fate?"

"I shall come back here at once, as soon as it is possible for me to do
so."

"Yes, yes! I beseech you, do not leave me a second longer than you are
obliged. I have not as yet had time to thank you."

The Russian officer showed such manifest signs of impatience that
Heideck no longer hesitated to follow him.

The way that he had to go was not long. He was taken to a house close
by, over whose gate the words "School of Arts" were sculptured in the
stone. He had only to wait a short while in the hall, when before
him there opened the door of a room on the ground floor, adorned with
sculptures, in which a number of officers sat at a long table.
To Heideck it was at once clear that he was to be tried before a
court-martial. A few very downcast-looking men had just been led out.
The officer who presided turned over the papers which lay before him,
and then, casting a sharp look at Heideck, spoke a few words with his
comrades.

"Who are you?" he asked in English, with a decided Russian accent, which
was difficult to understand.

Heideck, who also spoke in English, answered shortly and clearly, and
laid his passport, which he always carried in the breast-pocket of his
coat as his most valuable possession in ease of emergency, before the
Colonel.

As soon as he had read it, the President said in perfect German--

"You are, then, no Englishman, but a German? What are you doing here in
India?"

"I am travelling for the firm of Heideck, in Hamburg."

"In business? Really? Is it part of your business to fight against
Russia?"

"No! and I have not done so."

"You deny, then, that you took part in yesterday's battle?"

"As a combatant, yes! There were other reasons which led me to the
battlefield."

"You only went as a spectator? Didn't it occur to you that, under the
circumstances, this might be very dangerous for you?"

"I have personal relations with several gentlemen in the English army,
and these relations made it necessary for me to visit them during the
battle."

The Colonel turned to a young officer standing a little distance away--

"Lieutenant Osarov, is it true that you recognised in this man, when
he was brought in here last night, a person whom you saw in an English
square during the progress of the battle?"

"Yes, Colonel, I did!" was the decided reply. "I recognise him now quite
clearly. He was riding a black horse, and dashed off when we broke into
the square."

Heideck perceived that it would be useless to deny the fact, in the face
of this direct evidence, and his military honour would, in any case, not
have permitted him to do so.

"What the lieutenant has said is quite correct," he answered,
anticipating the Colonel's question; "but I did not take part in the
fighting. As a friend of Colonel Baird, who was killed, I kept as long
as possible close to him, so as to be able to bring his relations, who
were left behind in Lahore, tidings of his fate and of the issue of the
battle."

"You, a foreigner, were armed in the English square. Since you confess
this much, we need not trouble ourselves with further proceedings. You,
gentlemen, will all agree that we should treat him, according to martial
law, as a traitor?"

The last words were addressed to the other judges, and, with a silent
bow, they declared their assent.

"Since you, a citizen of a nation not at war with us, have fought in the
ranks of our enemies, the Court must therefore sentence you to death.
The judgment of the Court will be at once carried into effect. Have you
anything to say?"

Heideck was as though stunned. It appeared to him as though a black veil
was drawn across the world; and a sharp pang of grief shot through him
as he reflected that he would never see Edith again, and that she would
in vain wait for him for ever.

Then his pride was roused. No one should call him cowardly or timid.

"Is it possible to appeal against the judgment of this court-martial?"
he asked, looking firmly at the Colonel.

"No!"

"Then I must, of course, submit to your sentence, but I protest both
against the procedure of the Court and against the judgment you have
pronounced."

His protest evidently did not make the slightest impression.

"Have you drawn up the execution warrant?" the Colonel said, turning to
the secretary. He then appended his signature and handed it to one of
the attendant Cossacks.

"Lead the prisoner away."

Two of the soldiers took Heideck between them, and he followed them with
a proud, erect bearing, without saying a word more. Amidst the rain of
bullets on the battlefield he had not felt the least trace of fear; but
the thought of being led like an animal to the slaughter-house, filled
him with horror. All the same a power he had hitherto not discovered,
sustained him. The new danger awoke in him new vigour of soul and
spirit.

The Cossacks conducted him a long way on the road which leads from Anar
Kali to the Meean Meer cantonment. Heideck looked about him and observed
the changes that had taken place in Lahore, just like a traveller who
already in spirit lives in the new world that he intends to visit and
who looks upon familiar objects as something strange. Everywhere he
saw small detachments of cavalry, who were preserving order. Only faint
clouds of smoke still marked the place of the fire in the city, which
had evidently been extinguished. The splendid gardens of Donald Town,
through which their way led, the agricultural plantations, and Lawrence
Park wore the same aspect as in the time of profoundest peace.

Heideck was not chained, but the Cossacks who walked beside him had
their carbines presented, ready to fire should he attempt to escape. But
how could he escape? Everywhere round and about, outposts of the Russian
cavalry were discernible; behind him a body of Cossack horse escorted a
whole troop of Indians. Probably they were incendiaries and robbers who
were, like him, being led out for execution; and it did not improve his
frame of mind to find himself on his last road in the company of such a
crew.

After a long march they at length reached the encampment which had been
occupied by the English, the barracks and tents of which were now filled
with Russian troops. It was only with difficulty that his escort could
make their way through the crowd that had assembled; the report that a
number of criminals were being brought into camp must have arrived here
before them, for soldiers of all arms pressed forward inquisitively from
all sides, in order to have a close view of the poor wretches.

Suddenly, Heideck felt the clutch of a small but firm hand upon his arm.

"Oh, master, what is this? Why are they bringing you here like a
prisoner?"

At the first word Heideck recognised the soft voice, that in the
excitement had assumed its natural feminine tones. In the same fantastic
page's livery in which he had last seen him in Chanidigot, the pretended
servant of his friend Prince Tchajawadse here stood quite unexpectedly
before him, as though he had suddenly sprung from the earth, while the
most pained consternation showed itself in his fair, expressive face.

"Is it you, Georgi?" exclaimed Heideck, into whose sadness of heart
the sight of the Circassian brought a faint gleam of hope; "and your
master--the Prince? Is he also close at hand?"

But the Cossacks did not seem inclined to permit their prisoner any
further private conversation.

"Be off with you, young fellow!" one of them exclaimed to the supposed
page; "this is a spy, who is to be shot on the spot; and no one is
allowed to speak to him."

He made a movement as though with a slight motion of his powerful fist
to thrust the slender lithe figure aside, when Georgi fearlessly pushed
back his arm and glared at him with flashing eyes.

"Hold your blasphemous tongue, you liar! You are a thousand times more
of a spy than this gentleman. If you do not leave go of him at once,
you will have a knouting that you will not forget until the end of your
life!"

The Cossacks looked at him and laughed. It was only the handsome face
and the aristocratic bearing of the bold young fellow that prevented
their seizing him.

"Take care, little fellow, that you do not first get the stick," one of
them said good-humouredly; "and be off with you, before we, by accident,
crush you between our finger and thumb."

"Go now, Georgi," Heideck now said, in his turn, on perceiving that the
Circassian was not inclined to obey their orders; "if your master is
near by, go and tell him that I am about to be shot against all the
rules of international law. But tell him to make haste, if he wants to
see me again alive; for it looks as though his comrades intend to make
short work of me."

He did not doubt that the beautiful, hot-blooded daughter of the
mountains had completely understood him. At all events he saw how she
suddenly turned like a flash of lightning, and with the lithe rapidity
of a slender lizard threaded her way through the crowd of rough
soldiers.

A new hope awoke in Heideck's breast, and he felt himself once more
fettered in a thousand bonds to life, which he just before thought he
had entirely parted from. He endeavoured to walk more slowly, in order
to gain time. But the Cossacks, who had until now treated him with a
certain amount of consideration, appeared to have become irritated
by the scene with the page, for one of them urged the prisoner in
commanding tones to greater haste, while the other raised his fist in
his face with a menacing gesture.

Perhaps he would even have struck him; but the German officer looked
into his face with such a proud, commanding glance that he let his
raised arm sink to his side. The sullen-looking fellow felt at once
that he was not here dealing with an ordinary spy, and from this moment
neither curses nor abuse passed his lips.

The rattle of a rifle volley struck Heideck's ear, and although he was
sufficiently accustomed to the crack of shots, a cold shiver passed over
him. The bullets that had just been fired had--he knew it well without
anyone telling him--been the portion of some poor devil who had been
in the same position as himself. That was why these rifle shots were
so full of a significance for him, quite different from that caused
yesterday by the rattle and the crash of the raging battle. Truly, one
need not be a coward to feel an icy shudder at the thought of ten or
twenty rifle barrels directed at one's own breast.

And now they had reached the fatal spot which was to be the goal of all
his earthly wanderings. The parade at the rear of the barrack camp
had been selected for the place of execution, and so summarily was the
punishment being dealt out, that no time had been found to cart away
separately the corpses of those who had been shot. They simply left them
lying in the trench before which the delinquents were posted, probably
because burial in a common grave was more convenient.

An officer was handed the execution warrant, which had been issued by
the President of the court-martial, and handed over the prisoner to a
non-commissioned officer, who, regarding him with an expression of pity,
bade him in an almost apologetic tone to follow him.

Only a few minutes after his arrival on the parade ground, Heideck also
was standing before the fatal ditch, and saw a company of infantry, with
their arms at attention, drawn up before him.

He had now abandoned all hope. Since the verdict of the court-martial
only a miracle could have saved him; and this miracle had not happened.
For a few short minutes he had, after the accidental meeting with the
Circassian, been foolish enough to entertain new hopes of life, but
now even those had vanished. Even had she been animated by the keenest
desire to save him, what, after all, could she do to make the impossible
possible? He was sorry now that he had not confined himself to begging
the Prince through her to allow him decent burial and to send word to
the German General Staff. These last wishes would, perhaps, have not
been impossible of fulfilment, and he did not doubt that his amiable
Russian acquaintance would have gladly rendered him this trifling
service.

The word of command rang out, and the soldiers posted opposite to him
had already, with clank and rattle, shouldered arms, when from the
other side a loud peremptory shout reached Heideck's ear, and he saw a
horseman in Russian dragoon's uniform dashing up, in whose dark red face
he immediately recognised the Prince Tchajawadse.

Close before Heideck he reined in his dripping charger and sprang from
the saddle.