Read Online Land of Hope and Glory by Geoffrey Wilson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Geoffrey Wilson
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rose higher behind a skin of cloud. At first they saw carts, which moved to the side of the road to let them pass. But as they approached the downs, the road emptied and the cultivated fields gave way to grassland. The hills ahead were hazy and covered in jade grasses and thickets of trees, and the numerous slopes folded in on each other, protective arms about a secret.
‘What’s that?’ Kansal pointed to a thick column of smoke rising about a mile away to the west.
Sengar frowned, called a halt and peered through a spyglass. ‘Can’t see. It’s coming from behind a hill. Nothing to do with us, anyway. We’ll carry on. We have to get to Pentridge Castle before night.’
They rode on for a few minutes, and then an Englishman burst out into the road, waving his arms. ‘Sirs! Help!’
Sengar jerked to a halt and drew a pistol. ‘Get out of the way.’
‘Don’t shoot, sir.’ The man backed to the side of the road. ‘We need help. Please.’ He flung himself to the ground, his head bent in supplication. He wore the starched, white uniform of a servant from a major household, but it was marred by streaks of dirt.
Sengar’s moustache elongated. ‘What happened?’
‘The train from Barford, sir.’ The man raised his head. ‘We were attacked. They blew a hole in the engine.’
‘Attacked? Who?’
‘Don’t know, sir. Some reckon it was the Ghost.’
Sengar glanced around the nearby hills, as if the Ghost could be up there watching them at that moment. His horse moved skittishly beneath him.
Jack’s throat went dry. His wound pinched and a fine line of pain wormed its way across his chest. His injury was worsening – the last thing he needed now.
‘We’re all stuck out here in the middle of nowhere,’ the man said. ‘The train’s injured. It won’t move. My master sent me to get help.’
‘Very well,’ Sengar said. ‘We’ll take a look.’
They left the road and cut across the gentle curves of the countryside. The servant rode behind one of the cavalrymen and pointed towards the column of black smoke. ‘There. That’s it.’
They found the train standing motionless on the tracks. The carriages were decorated with wood panelling and brass plaques of Rajthanan gods and goddesses. The engine lay at the far end, hidden by a cloud of smoke and steam. The passengers had all disembarked and now stood in knots about their luggage.
‘Glory to Shiva!’ a woman cried in Rajthani. ‘We’re saved! Help!’
Sengar sawed at his reins to turn his horse. A tight circle of around twenty Rajthanans huddled in the middle of the crowd. Their trunks and cases lay at their feet and they eyed the Europeans milling around them. Four European servants in shining white stood guard just outside the circle, although they appeared unarmed.
‘They want to rob us,’ shrieked the woman, one of the Rajthanans. ‘Help us.’
Jack was sceptical. The Europeans didn’t look as though they were about to attack; for the most part they were ignoring the Rajthanans, although a few did seem to be watching out of curiosity as much as anything.
Sengar paused for a second, then shouted in English, ‘All of you, get back.’
A few of the Europeans began shuffling away, but most just looked up in confusion. Some even moved closer to the Rajthanans, unsure where they were supposed to be moving to.
Sengar drew his pistol and fired in the air. The loud crack made the whole crowd jolt like a whipped horse. A few European women whimpered and covered their ears.
‘Get away from those Rajthanans,’ Sengar shouted. ‘Hurry up.’
The Europeans moved away from the train, pushing and shoving and dragging their sacks and wooden crates. Soon there was a clear space around the besieged Rajthanans.
‘Oh, Captain, thank you.’ The woman wore a yellow sari laced with golden thread, as well as a quilted jacket, which she hugged close to her. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come. They’re murderers and
‘What’s that?’ Kansal pointed to a thick column of smoke rising about a mile away to the west.
Sengar frowned, called a halt and peered through a spyglass. ‘Can’t see. It’s coming from behind a hill. Nothing to do with us, anyway. We’ll carry on. We have to get to Pentridge Castle before night.’
They rode on for a few minutes, and then an Englishman burst out into the road, waving his arms. ‘Sirs! Help!’
Sengar jerked to a halt and drew a pistol. ‘Get out of the way.’
‘Don’t shoot, sir.’ The man backed to the side of the road. ‘We need help. Please.’ He flung himself to the ground, his head bent in supplication. He wore the starched, white uniform of a servant from a major household, but it was marred by streaks of dirt.
Sengar’s moustache elongated. ‘What happened?’
‘The train from Barford, sir.’ The man raised his head. ‘We were attacked. They blew a hole in the engine.’
‘Attacked? Who?’
‘Don’t know, sir. Some reckon it was the Ghost.’
Sengar glanced around the nearby hills, as if the Ghost could be up there watching them at that moment. His horse moved skittishly beneath him.
Jack’s throat went dry. His wound pinched and a fine line of pain wormed its way across his chest. His injury was worsening – the last thing he needed now.
‘We’re all stuck out here in the middle of nowhere,’ the man said. ‘The train’s injured. It won’t move. My master sent me to get help.’
‘Very well,’ Sengar said. ‘We’ll take a look.’
They left the road and cut across the gentle curves of the countryside. The servant rode behind one of the cavalrymen and pointed towards the column of black smoke. ‘There. That’s it.’
They found the train standing motionless on the tracks. The carriages were decorated with wood panelling and brass plaques of Rajthanan gods and goddesses. The engine lay at the far end, hidden by a cloud of smoke and steam. The passengers had all disembarked and now stood in knots about their luggage.
‘Glory to Shiva!’ a woman cried in Rajthani. ‘We’re saved! Help!’
Sengar sawed at his reins to turn his horse. A tight circle of around twenty Rajthanans huddled in the middle of the crowd. Their trunks and cases lay at their feet and they eyed the Europeans milling around them. Four European servants in shining white stood guard just outside the circle, although they appeared unarmed.
‘They want to rob us,’ shrieked the woman, one of the Rajthanans. ‘Help us.’
Jack was sceptical. The Europeans didn’t look as though they were about to attack; for the most part they were ignoring the Rajthanans, although a few did seem to be watching out of curiosity as much as anything.
Sengar paused for a second, then shouted in English, ‘All of you, get back.’
A few of the Europeans began shuffling away, but most just looked up in confusion. Some even moved closer to the Rajthanans, unsure where they were supposed to be moving to.
Sengar drew his pistol and fired in the air. The loud crack made the whole crowd jolt like a whipped horse. A few European women whimpered and covered their ears.
‘Get away from those Rajthanans,’ Sengar shouted. ‘Hurry up.’
The Europeans moved away from the train, pushing and shoving and dragging their sacks and wooden crates. Soon there was a clear space around the besieged Rajthanans.
‘Oh, Captain, thank you.’ The woman wore a yellow sari laced with golden thread, as well as a quilted jacket, which she hugged close to her. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come. They’re murderers and
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