"Wait a little while," he added, "and there will be many mourners in that den of jackals."
The heat was now terrible--a torture that could not be imagined by the people at home; that took the life and energy from the strongest, while as for the others--well, they must suffer the fate of the weak. In the daytime the pitiless Indian sun blazed down upon them, awful in its power and wrath, and at night they gasped for air, and choked, and cursed, or grimly joked, or called upon God, according to their nature.
Ted Russell, healthy and in good condition, with no superfluous flesh, suffered less than most. He had one slight attack of cholera in the early days of July. One day, having been on duty all night, he lay within the house, in little more than bathing-costume, vainly trying to snatch an hour's sleep, for the Mori guns were hard at work. Overhead the sky was of a uniform deep-blue, broken only by the mass of fire almost directly above, and by the haze along the horizon.
As if by magic, the thundering of the guns from the Delhi bastions ceased, and the well-known strains of our National Anthem were wafted by the south wind from the Mogul city.
"'God Save the Queen!'" gasped Ted. "What's the meaning of that?"
All listened in bewilderment. What could it mean? Had the sepoys suddenly repented and become loyal again? As the band ceased, the big guns of the city thundered forth a royal salute, and then were silent as the band again played "God Save the Queen!".
"What cheek! What awful cheek!" Alec indignantly exclaimed. "Well, that beats everything!"
"What is it?" asked Ted again. "What are they playing that tune for?"
"They are mocking us," Claud Boldre angrily replied. "They have heard what we heard this morning. The curs have captured Agra town, and now I suppose they're gloating over their victory and making fun of us."
His guess was true; the sepoys had taken this strange method of celebrating their triumph. It shows they were not without some sense of humour.
Among the crowd attracted to the "Flagstaff" meeting-place by the unusual strains were many of our hero's new chums. Both he and Alec had formed close friendships with a number of the junior officers from the camp below the Ridge, and Ted particularly had become very popular. He had both proved himself courageous and shown good commonsense, and he never once attempted to put on "side". The terrible danger he had gone through at Aurungpore had steadied down his love of fun and joking, and made him realize his responsibilities. Had he come straight to Delhi without having undergone that trying experience in the arsenal, he would soon have found some mischief in which to entangle his Guides and Gurkhas. They would have been only too delighted to have joined in any fun, however rash and hazardous.