Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 129.djvu/280

272 they do not spend a kindly thought now and then on the sad and sickly prince up yonder at Windsor, who created this school for them and all its delights, they do that "pious founder" cruel injustice. He was the weakling of his race; but not the strongest of them has left behind him a piece of work which has lasted so well or been so successful as the college of our blessed Lady at Eton, which has flourished for more than four centuries, and shows every intention of flourishing for twice as many more, should the world and England last as long.

 

 From Blackwood's Magazine.

 

was in the little inn-parlour, last occupied perchance by some light-hearted pleasure-party halting awhile during a boating excursion on the river, that the unfortunate Falkland told in faltering sentences the strange story of his deliverance to the bewildered friend who sat listening to the sad tale, his heart too full of sorrow and emotion to find room for words of comfort or consolation.

Lying in the narrow street of Mustaphabad on the eventful evening which brought succour to the residency garrison; having fallen from his horse while gallantly leading the assault against the rebel soldiery; grievously wounded and almost insensible from the blows which had left their awful marks on the mutilated features — on that noble face which had served as a beacon throughout the defence of the residency to animate the garrison, — Falkland knew not what had happened to him till he became aware that his mangled body was being carried over the plain in a closed palanquin. There was a halt at one time, through one fiery afternoon, when the palanquin was brought within some house, and he hoped, so far as he had the power of forming hopes, that he had been set down to die. The halt was made, as he heard afterwards, while the fate of the rebel nawab remained in suspense, whose trial and execution have been recounted in these pages. It was thought by the fugitives that the nawab might make terms for his life by disclosing their possession of the captive; but when the news came of his execution, the gang which had escaped hurried off with their prisoner, making for the swamps and forests at the foot of the great mountains.

How could he describe the sufferings he endured? At first, indeed, the stupor in which he lay saved him from consciousness of his condition; but after a time, he knew not how long, he came to be aware of the dreadful state of his wounds. "But why try to describe what no words can tell? " said the unfortunate sufferer; "I was in that state when all desire of life had left me, all care for escape and return to home and friends; I prayed only for death: but yet, although in this loathsome state, I had still enough of the man left in me to withhold from taking my own life. Thus went on the dreadful days. How mortal man could have borne it, looking back on what I passed through, I hardly understand. Sometimes a merciful insensibility came over me; but then after a time I would awake again to the horrors of my condition. My captors were not all brutal; one man especially did his best to tend me in his rough fashion: but most of them shuddered as they passed my way, as well they might; and even if all had been humane, there could be little done to help the wounded. There were many of the party scarce able to drag themselves along for their wounds; even rags were scarce, and we seldom remained halted, for a single night. At times my memory failed me altogether, and I forgot what I had been; forgot that I had — that I had a wife, mourning, perchance, my death: but one thing I had at last the sanity and strength to do, to cut off the mangled arm which lay rotting by my side;" and raising, as he spoke, the cloak which he still wore, Falkland showed the sleeve of his coat hanging loose from his left shoulder.

"From that time," he continued, "I began to mend slowly. I could swallow food, and sometimes, when our fugitive party halted, I was able to sit up; and now for the first time I came to realize the possibility that I might recover, and a desire to escape from my captors began to possess me. Our party was greatly diminished; many had died, some had made off, several were killed, for they, too, were subject to attack and plunder by the villagers for the sake of the money and jewels they were supposed to carry about with them. And now the leaders began to sound me about terms of ransom. We had been joined at different times by other fugitives, and some of the band were now, I believe, the chiefs of the rebellion, to whom no mercy would be shown, but who they themselves believed would be hunted