Read Online Supping With Panthers by Tom Holland - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tom Holland
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inhabitants are in the grip of a terrible disease: light terrifies them. Therefore, when you arrive, you must torch the city. Trust me, I swear it, there is no other way.
I shall proceed ahead of you. Moorfield and his men, I am afraid, are in deadly peril. It may already be too late for them.
If they – or indeed I, or anyone – should approach you and yet not seem to recognise you, then kill us. A bullet through the heart. Do not approach. A single bite is sufficient to transmit the disease. There is no known cure. Tell all your men.
God’s speed, Colonel.
S.S.
Extract, With Rifles in the Raj (continued).
A DESPERATE STAND
A dungeon cell – ‘Sri Sink’ – making a stand – a desperate retreat – a peculiar vision – the brahmin’s curse.
I woke to the dripping of water on stone. I opened my eyes. All was darkness. I tried to stir. I heard the clank of chains from above me, and I realised that my wrists were manacled to a cold stone wall.
‘Moorfield. Thank God!’
It was Eliot’s voice. I tried to make him out, but the darkness was total.
‘What happened?! asked. ‘How is Cuff?’
‘He is alive, I think, but not conscious yet. You looked as though you got a nasty blow yourself.’
‘It’s nothing,’ I answered. ‘How about you?’
‘I’m afraid I didn’t quite match your performance. One of the brutes stuck a spear into my leg.’
‘What rotten luck! Not too sore, I hope?’
Eliot laughed faintly. ‘Well, I don’t suppose we will be walking anywhere much, so it scarcely matters, I suppose.’
‘Nonsense,’ I answered. ‘We must escape at once.’
Eliot laughed drily.
‘Got any ideas?’ I inquired.
He didn’t answer.
‘Eliot?’ I asked.
‘There,’ he said suddenly.
‘What?’
‘Listen,’ I froze. There was nothing but a faint dripping of water. ‘Did you hear it?’ he asked.
‘What, the water?’
‘Of course,’ he said impatiently. ‘It’s coming from the far side of the cell.’ He paused. ‘Where the Sergeant-Major has been chained.’
I told him straight up that I didn’t get his drift.
‘The water must be coming from somewhere,’ he explained. ‘A subterranean source. If so, then the masonry will surely be weaker along the stretch against which it flows.’
I frowned. ‘Then why would the creatures have chained him there?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Eliot, ‘but is it really necessary to worry about that now?’
Well, of course, the moment Cuff came to we told him to give his manacles a tug. ‘Very good, sir,’ replied the Sergeant-Major. We heard him pulling and straining, and then he swore.
‘No joy?’ I asked.
‘Not yet, sir,’ he replied. ‘But I don’t intend to be beat by some savage’s wall. Give me time, sir, and we’ll see what we can do.’
He began to strain again, and pant, and still we heard him muttering and swearing to himself. ‘I thought it was a long shot,’ muttered Eliot at last.
‘You don’t know Cuff, ‘I replied. ‘He’s the strongest beggar I’ve ever come across.’
‘Very kind of you to say so, sir,’ gasped the Sergeant-Major, and at that moment we heard a great rending from the wall, and a clanking of chains, and Cuff fell forward with a thud on to the floor.
‘Everything all right?’ I asked.
‘Yes, thank you, sir,’ he answered. ‘Rarely felt better.’
‘Good work.’
‘Thank you very much, sir.’
By great good fortune I had some loose matches in my pocket I informed the Sergeant-Major of this lucky chance, and he reached for the matches and lit one against a brick. In the brief spurt of light I saw how his chains had been wrenched off completely from the wall; he was starting to pull at his wrist, and as the veins in his neck and forehead began to bulge the manacle suddenly snapped and gave. Then the match went out.
I heard the Sergeant-Major move across the cell and start to pull at Eliot’s chains. This time, however, it seemed that the metal was too strong
I shall proceed ahead of you. Moorfield and his men, I am afraid, are in deadly peril. It may already be too late for them.
If they – or indeed I, or anyone – should approach you and yet not seem to recognise you, then kill us. A bullet through the heart. Do not approach. A single bite is sufficient to transmit the disease. There is no known cure. Tell all your men.
God’s speed, Colonel.
S.S.
Extract, With Rifles in the Raj (continued).
A DESPERATE STAND
A dungeon cell – ‘Sri Sink’ – making a stand – a desperate retreat – a peculiar vision – the brahmin’s curse.
I woke to the dripping of water on stone. I opened my eyes. All was darkness. I tried to stir. I heard the clank of chains from above me, and I realised that my wrists were manacled to a cold stone wall.
‘Moorfield. Thank God!’
It was Eliot’s voice. I tried to make him out, but the darkness was total.
‘What happened?! asked. ‘How is Cuff?’
‘He is alive, I think, but not conscious yet. You looked as though you got a nasty blow yourself.’
‘It’s nothing,’ I answered. ‘How about you?’
‘I’m afraid I didn’t quite match your performance. One of the brutes stuck a spear into my leg.’
‘What rotten luck! Not too sore, I hope?’
Eliot laughed faintly. ‘Well, I don’t suppose we will be walking anywhere much, so it scarcely matters, I suppose.’
‘Nonsense,’ I answered. ‘We must escape at once.’
Eliot laughed drily.
‘Got any ideas?’ I inquired.
He didn’t answer.
‘Eliot?’ I asked.
‘There,’ he said suddenly.
‘What?’
‘Listen,’ I froze. There was nothing but a faint dripping of water. ‘Did you hear it?’ he asked.
‘What, the water?’
‘Of course,’ he said impatiently. ‘It’s coming from the far side of the cell.’ He paused. ‘Where the Sergeant-Major has been chained.’
I told him straight up that I didn’t get his drift.
‘The water must be coming from somewhere,’ he explained. ‘A subterranean source. If so, then the masonry will surely be weaker along the stretch against which it flows.’
I frowned. ‘Then why would the creatures have chained him there?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Eliot, ‘but is it really necessary to worry about that now?’
Well, of course, the moment Cuff came to we told him to give his manacles a tug. ‘Very good, sir,’ replied the Sergeant-Major. We heard him pulling and straining, and then he swore.
‘No joy?’ I asked.
‘Not yet, sir,’ he replied. ‘But I don’t intend to be beat by some savage’s wall. Give me time, sir, and we’ll see what we can do.’
He began to strain again, and pant, and still we heard him muttering and swearing to himself. ‘I thought it was a long shot,’ muttered Eliot at last.
‘You don’t know Cuff, ‘I replied. ‘He’s the strongest beggar I’ve ever come across.’
‘Very kind of you to say so, sir,’ gasped the Sergeant-Major, and at that moment we heard a great rending from the wall, and a clanking of chains, and Cuff fell forward with a thud on to the floor.
‘Everything all right?’ I asked.
‘Yes, thank you, sir,’ he answered. ‘Rarely felt better.’
‘Good work.’
‘Thank you very much, sir.’
By great good fortune I had some loose matches in my pocket I informed the Sergeant-Major of this lucky chance, and he reached for the matches and lit one against a brick. In the brief spurt of light I saw how his chains had been wrenched off completely from the wall; he was starting to pull at his wrist, and as the veins in his neck and forehead began to bulge the manacle suddenly snapped and gave. Then the match went out.
I heard the Sergeant-Major move across the cell and start to pull at Eliot’s chains. This time, however, it seemed that the metal was too strong
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