Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 127.djvu/419

Rh felt the presence in the world of a hidden power, a mystery, "something more" than matter.

 

 From Blackwood's Magazine.

 

the loss sustained, the garrison were in high spirits for the rest of the night at the success of the sortie. And the state of things next day amply justified the night's enterprise. Not only was a great danger averted; the enemy were so cowed by the surprise that they did not attempt to resume their mining, or even to reoccupy the garden. The other side of the building being already kept clear by the occupation of the lodge, the garrison were thus practically free from molestation, although the rebels had not given up the investment, for they could still be seen collected about the court-house and in the village opposite the lodge.

Great, therefore, was the sense of relief; nevertheless, as the day wore on, a reaction set in from the excitement of the previous night, and, in the absence of any pressing emergency, a sort of lassitude and weariness was now becoming observable. Time and confinement were beginning to tell. The building, large and airy though it was, had become almost intolerably close and stuffy, with all the sides closed up in the savage heat of June; and the ladies, who spent a part of the night on the roof, purchased the comfort dearly, which involved a return to the sickening atmosphere below. All were tiring of the monotonous diet; they felt the need of food, but brought a sense of loathing to their meals. This morning, also, the two children had sickened, and lay side by side on their cot, each with the doll Kitty Peart had made for it on the pillow beside it, looking up at passers-by with languid preoccupied eye, while their mother sat fanning herself in a chair near them. Poor Kitty herself took her share of the nursing; and while fanning Jerry Spragge, gave him the particulars of poor papa's death, with such embellishments as had already gathered round the event. It did not occur to the poor girl that one of a party of soldiers might be shot, although not more prominently engaged than the survivors; so she described to the patient how her father had fallen covered with wounds, while heroically leading on his comrades, and the better-informed young fellow had not the heart to set her right. Nor did Mrs. Peart keep to herself in her sorrow. For her there could be no seclusion for the conventional time, to be followed by a reappearance in decorous weeds, while face and voice should be attuned to proper keeping with the condition of bereavement. Some of the other ladies indeed offered to bring her share of the rude meals to their private room; but the two sick children lying there, peevish and crying, made such partial solitude unwelcome; and Mrs. Peart, although for the time suspending her share in the nursing, took her place as usual at the public breakfast-table, where the unpleasant-looking food was almost concealed from sight by the swarm of flies that settled upon it.

Mrs. Polwheedle presided at this meal. It had got to her ears that Major Peart had been left on the ground when he was wounded, and killed afterwards; and while helping to console the widow through the night, she had not forgotten to point out how the major might have been saved if he had not been left alone on the ground after he was wounded. Mrs. Polwheedle, who had been very active in nursing, and whose bustling cheerful manner had contributed sensibly to sustain the spirits of the female members of the garrison, but on whose temper events were beginning to tell, was not herself this morning; and was now holding forth with raised voice and flushed face in criticism of the last night's enterprise, the only gentlemen present at table being the brigadier and Captain Buxey.

"Better have a little of this stew, my dear," she said to Mrs. Peart; "it's the last day you'll get any, for the sheep won't hold out any longer. They have had no food for three days as it is. But there won't be many left soon to want meat, or chapattees either, if we go on like this. There's Braywell and Sparrow gone one day, and now your husband and young Spragge and a poor sepoy the next; I can't see what Falkland wants to be always going on in this way, attacking here, and attacking there, for. Why doesn't he keep quiet inside? I wonder you allow it, brigadier. It's as much your fault as his. You are responsible for everything, you know, for I suppose he made a pretence of asking your leave first."

"My dear, I said I thought there was a good deal of risk in the sally," replied the poor old men meekly; "but I deferred to Falkland's judgment in the matter, and he