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 Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Thorax and Lung Examination

References

Chapter 20 Heart and Neck Vessels

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Heart and Neck Vessels Examination

References

Chapter 21 Peripheral Vascular System and Lymphatic System

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Peripheral Vascular Examination

References

Chapter 22 Abdomen

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

8
 Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Abdomen Examination

References

Chapter 23 Musculoskeletal System

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Musculoskeletal Examination

References

Chapter 24 Neurologic System

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Neurologic Examination

References

Chapter 25 Male Genitourinary System

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

9
 Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Male Genitalia Examination

References

Chapter 26 Anus, Rectum, and Prostate

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Anus, Rectum, and Prostate Examination

References

Chapter 27 Female Genitourinary System

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Health Promotion and Patient Teaching

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: Female Genitalia Examination

References

Unit 4 Integration: Putting It All Together

Chapter 28 The Complete Health Assessment

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Chapter 29 The Complete Physical Assessment

Sequence/Selected Photos

10
Chapter 30 Bedside Assessment and Electronic Documentation

Sequence/Selected Photos

References

Chapter 31 The Pregnant Woman

Structure and Function

Subjective Data

Objective Data

Documentation and Critical Thinking

Abnormal Findings for Advanced Practice

Summary Checklist: The Pregnant Woman

References

Chapter 32 Functional Assessment of the Older Adult

References

Illustration Credits

Index

Assessment Terms: English and Spanish

Assessment Terms: English and Spanish

11
Chapter Organization
The following color bars are used consistently for each section within a chapter to help locate
specific information.

12
Structure and Function
Anatomy and physiology by body system

13
Subjective Data
Health history through questions (examiner asks) and explanation (rationale)

14
Objective Data
Core of the examination part of each body system chapter with skills, expected findings, and
common variations for healthy people, as well as selected abnormal findings

15
Health Promotion and Patient Teaching
Health promotion related to each body system.

16
Documentation and Critical Thinking
Clinical case studies with sample documentation for subjective, objective, and assessment data

17
Abnormal Findings
Tables of art and photographs of pathologic disorders and conditions; abnormal findings for clinical
practice and advanced practice where appropriate

18
Copyright
PHYSICAL EXAMINATION AND HEALTH ASSESSMENT, EIGHTH EDITION ISBN: 978-0-323-
51080-6

Copyright © 2020 by Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and
retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. Details on how to seek
permission, further information about the Publisher's permissions policies and our arrangements
with organizations such as the Copyright Clearance Center and the Copyright Licensing Agency,
can be found at our website: www.elsevier.com/permissions.

This book and the individual contributions contained in it are protected under copyright by the
Publisher (other than as may be noted herein).

Notice
Practitioners and researchers must always rely on their own experience and knowledge in
evaluating and using any information, methods, compounds or experiments described herein.
Because of rapid advances in the medical sciences, in particular, independent verification of
diagnoses and drug dosages should be made. To the fullest extent of the law, no responsibility is
assumed by Elsevier, authors, editors or contributors for any injury and/or damage to persons or
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any methods, products, instructions, or ideas contained in the material herein.

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Printed in Canada

Last digit is the print number: 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

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19
20
Dedication

To Paul, with love and thanks. You have read every word.

21
About the Author

Carolyn Jarvis received her PhD from the University of Illinois at Chicago, with a research
interest in the physiologic effect of alcohol on the cardiovascular system; her MSN from Loyola
University (Chicago); and her BSN cum laude from the University of Iowa. She is Professor, School
of Nursing at Illinois Wesleyan University, where she teaches Health Assessment, Pathophysiology,
and Pharmacology. Dr. Jarvis has taught physical assessment and critical care nursing at Rush
University (Chicago), the University of Missouri (Columbia), and the University of Illinois
(Urbana). Her current research interest concerns alcohol-interactive medications, and she includes
Honors students in this research.
In 2016, Illinois Wesleyan University honored Dr. Jarvis for her contributions to the ever-
changing field of nursing with the dedication of the Jarvis Center for Nursing Excellence. The Jarvis
Center for Nursing Excellence equips students with laboratory and simulation learning so that they
may pursue their nursing career with the same commitment as Dr. Jarvis.
Dr. Jarvis is the Student Senate Professor of the Year (2017) and was honored to give remarks at
commencement. She is a recipient of the University of Missouri's Superior Teaching Award; has
taught physical assessment to thousands of baccalaureate students, graduate students, and nursing
professionals; has held 150 continuing education seminars; and is the author of numerous articles
and textbook contributions.
Dr. Jarvis has maintained a clinical practice in advanced practice roles—first as a cardiovascular
clinical specialist in various critical care settings and as a certified family nurse practitioner in
primary care. During the last 12 years, her enthusiasm has focused on Spanish language skills to
provide health care in rural Guatemala and at the Community Health Care Clinic in Bloomington.
Dr. Jarvis has been instrumental in developing a synchronous teaching program for Illinois
Wesleyan students both in Barcelona, Spain, and at the home campus.

22
23
Contributors
CHAPTER CONTRIBUTOR

Lydia Bertschi DNP, APRN, ACNP-BC

The co-contributor for Chapter 22 (Abdomen), Dr. Bertschi is an Assistant Professor at Illinois
Wesleyan University School of Nursing and a nurse practitioner in the intensive care unit at
UnityPoint Health—Methodist.
ASSESSMENT PHOTOGRAPHERS

Chandi Kessler BSN, RN

Chandi is a former Intensive Care Unit nurse and is an award-winning professional photographer.
Chandi specializes in newborn and family photography in and around Central Illinois.

Kevin Strandberg
Kevin is a Professor of Art Emeritus at Illinois Wesleyan University in Bloomington, Illinois. He has
contributed to all editions of Physical Examination & Health Assessment.
INSTRUCTOR AND STUDENT ANCILLARIES
Case Studies

Melissa M. Vander Stucken MSN, RN

Clinical Assistant Professor
School of Nursing
Sam Houston State University
Huntsville, Texas
Key Points

Joanna Cain BSN, BA, RN

Auctorial Pursuits, Inc.
President and Founder
Boulder, Colorado
PowerPoint Presentations

Daryle Wane PhD, ARNP, FNP-BC

BSN Program Director—Professor of Nursing
Department of Nursing and Health Programs
Pasco-Hernando State College
New Port Richey, Florida
Review Questions

Kelly K. Zinn PhD, RN

Associate Professor
School of Nursing
Sam Houston State University
Huntsville, Texas
TEACH for Nurses

Jennifer Duke
Freelancer
St. Louis, Missouri
Test Bank

24
Heidi Monroe MSN, RN-BC, CAPA
Assistant Professor of Nursing
NCLEX-RN Coordinator
Bellin College
Green Bay, Wisconsin
Test Bank Review

Kelly K. Zinn PhD, RN

Associate Professor
School of Nursing
Sam Houston State University
Huntsville, Texas

25
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 The Project Gutenberg eBook of
The Great White Hand; Or, the Tiger of Cawnpore:
A story of the Indian Mutiny
 This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United
States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away
or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you
are not located in the United States, you will have to check the
laws of the country where you are located before using this
eBook.

Title: The Great White Hand; Or, the Tiger of Cawnpore: A story
of the Indian Mutiny

Author: J. E. Muddock

Release date: June 16, 2022 [eBook #68330]

Language: English

Original publication: United Kingdom: Hutchison & Co, 1896

Credits: Sonya Schermann, Martin Pettit and the Online

Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
(This file was produced from images generously made
available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GREAT

WHITE HAND; OR, THE TIGER OF CAWNPORE: A STORY OF
THE INDIAN MUTINY ***
 Transcriber’s Note:

Obvious typographic errors have been

corrected.
THE GREAT WHITE HAND
 OR

THE TIGER OF CAWNPORE

THE
GREAT WHITE HAND
OR

THE TIGER OF CAWNPORE

A Story of the Indian Mutiny

By

J. E. MUDDOCK
Author of
“Maid Marian and Robin Hood;” “The Dead Man’s Secret;”
“Stories Weird
and Wonderful;” “Stormlight;” “For God and the Czar;” “Only a
Woman’s Heart;” “From the Bosom of the Deep;” “Basile the
Jester;” “Stripped of the Tinsel;” “The Star of Fortune;” &c.
 LONDON
Hutchinson & Co.
34 Paternoster Row, E.C.
1896

To the Memory of
MY FATHER
A true gentleman, brave, upright, faithful; who after many long
years of devotion to duty in India—and when on the eve of
returning to his native land—sank very suddenly to his
eternal rest in March, 1861, and sleeps “Till the
day break,” in The Circular Road Cemetery,
Calcutta, I dedicate this book.
 CONTENTS

Chap. Page
PREFACE ix
I. THE RISING OF THE STORM 1
II. THE MYSTERY OF THE CHUPATTIES 13
III. THE STORM BREAKS 23
IV. THE PALACE OF THE MOGUL 36
V. THE TREACHERY OF THE KING 48
VI. HEROIC DEFENCE OF THE MAGAZINE 56
VII. HAIDEE AND HER WRONGS 65
VIII. A PERILOUS MISSION 74
IX. HOPES AND FEARS 85
X. A NARROW ESCAPE 97
XI. STARTLING NEWS 108
XII. WAKING DREAMS 120
XIII. FOR LIBERTY AND LIFE 128
XIV. THE TIGER OF CAWNPORE 135
XV. AS ARMOUR IMPENETRABLE 146
XVI. A DEADLY STRIFE 156
XVII. FOR LIFE AND LOVE 164
XVIII. WITH A LOVE THAT PASSETH UNDERSTANDING 172
XIX. FROM CAPTIVITY TO CAPTIVITY 185
XX. AS A BIRD IS ENSNARED 196
XXI. THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER 205
XXII. THE LION HEARTS 214
XXIII. AS WITH AN ENCHANTER’S WAND 224
XXIV. “SHIVA THE DESTROYER” 235
XXV. THE LAST GRAND STRUGGLE 241
XXVI. THE SWORD OF DAMOCLES SWINGS 248
 XXVII. WITH SWIFT STRIDES NEMESIS MOVES ON 256
XXVIII. “THE BATTLE OF THE BRIDGE” 264
XXIX. RETRIBUTION 274
XXX. NEW HOPES 279
XXXI. A DUEL TO THE DEATH 286
XXXII. DELHI 297
XXXIII. A TERRIBLE VOW 309
XXXIV. A SURPRISE 318
XXXV. NEW HOPES OF LIBERTY 326
XXXVI. MOGHUL SINGH IS OUTWITTED 336
XXXVII. HAIDEE Ō STAR 342
XXXVIII. THE FALL OF DELHI 349
 PREFACE

In the year 1894, I published in two volumes a romance of the Indian

Mutiny, under the title of “The Star of Fortune.” A short prefatory note
intimated that it was my lot to be in India during the terrible time of
the Sepoy Rebellion. From this it may be inferred that I not only
wrote with feeling, but with some personal knowledge of my subject.
“The Star of Fortune” was exceedingly well received by the public,
and last year a cheaper edition was called for. That edition has been
extensively circulated throughout India and the Colonies. The book
on the whole was well reviewed, while my critics were good enough
to accord me praise, by no means stinted, for the portions which
dealt with the Mutiny proper. One London paper said it was “a very
fine picture narrative,” another spoke of it as “a spirited piece of
writing,” a third declared it was “written with spirit and vivacity,” a
fourth as being “really breathless in interest.” I could go on
multiplying quotations similar to the foregoing, but those I have given
will serve the purpose I have in view.
On the other hand I was taken somewhat severely to task because
the opening portions of the tale dealt with Edinburgh, and about one-
third of the book was exhausted before India was reached. Whether
or not that was really a fault is not for me to say; it was certainly part
of my original plan, but I cannot be indifferent to the fact that a
consensus of opinion condemned it, and declared that the Mutiny
was far too interesting a subject to be mixed up with any love-making
scenes in Edinburgh or elsewhere other than in India. I was very
bluntly told that I ought to have plunged at once into medias res, and
that a story purporting to be a story of the Mutiny should deal with
the Mutiny only. The advice has not been lost upon me. I have
steadily kept it in view while writing the “Great White Hand,” and I
venture to express a hope that whatever shortcomings may be found
in the work, whatever sins of omission and commission I am guilty
of, I shall at least be credited with keeping strictly to the locale and
incidents of the Great Rebellion, which, in my opinion, affords, and
will continue to afford for generations to come, a fund of the most
romantic material all ready to the novelist’s hand. If it should be
urged against me that the dramatic situations in which my characters
become involved are overstrained or improbable, I shall claim on the
authority of history that the thrilling times of the Revolt were rich in
situations so sensational, so dramatic, so tragic and pathetic, that
they put fiction into the shade. The bare ungarnished story of the
Rising is in itself one of the most sensational records the world has
ever known. Not even the Crusades, not even the wonderful defence
of Malta by the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem, against the infidel
Turk, present us with a more thrilling, romantic, and stirring
panorama of battle scenes and incidents than the Indian Mutiny. It
was not a struggle of the Cross against the Crescent, but of the
Cross against Vishnu, against Shiva, against Brahma. The
“Phantom” King of Delhi, and the “Tiger of Cawnpore,” both believed
that the doom of Christianity in India had knelled. But they were
undeceived, and all that was best, bravest, and noble in British men
and women was brought to the surface. Of course, in a work of this
kind, history must necessarily be used simply as a means to an end;
therefore, while it is not claimed for the story that it is a piece of
reliable history in the guise of fiction, it may truthfully be said it
records certain stirring events and incidents which are known to
have taken place. These incidents and events have been coloured
and set with a due regard for the brilliant and picturesque Orient,
which forms the stage on which the dramatic action is worked out.
Those who knew India as I knew it in those lurid and exciting days,
will probably admit that there is scarcely an incident introduced into
my book but what might have happened during the enactment of the
great tragedy. An air of vraisemblance represents true art in fiction,
and when it becomes difficult for the reader to tell where fiction
begins and truth ends, it may be said that the story-teller can go no
further. If I should be fortunate in establishing a claim to this praise, I
shall be proud indeed; but though I fail in that respect, I humbly
venture to believe that “The Great White Hand” will be found neither
dull nor uninteresting.
THE AUTHOR.
London, 1896.

THE GREAT WHITE HAND,[1]

OR,
THE TIGER OF CAWNPORE.
A STORY OF THE INDIAN MUTINY.
 CHAPTER I.
THE RISING OF THE STORM.

It is the ninth of May, in the year one thousand eight hundred and
fifty-seven. The morning breaks lowering and stormy, a fitting
prelude to the great and tragic drama that is about to startle the
world. It is not yet four o’clock, and the sun is hardly above the
horizon, but in the fair Indian city of Meerut there is an unusual stir.
The slanting rays of the rising sun, as they fall through the rifts of
hurrying storm-clouds, gild the minarets and domes of the numerous
mosques for which the city is famed. The tall and graceful palms
stand out in bold relief against the sky, and from the cool greenery of
their fan-like leaves there issue the soft, peaceful notes of the ring-
doves. Meerut, at this time, is one of the most extensive military
stations in our Indian empire, and covers an area nearly five miles in
circumference. In the centre of the city is a great wall and esplanade,
and along this runs a deep nullah, which cuts the station into two
separate parallelograms; the one contains the European, and the
other the Native force. The European lines are in the northern
quarter, the Artillery barracks to the right, the Dragoons to the left,
and the Rifles are in the centre. Between the barracks of the two last
rises, tall and straight, the spire of the station church. It contrasts
strangely with the Oriental architecture which surrounds it. Farther
northward again stretches an extensive plain, which is used as a
parade-ground. Towards this plain, on the fateful ninth of May,
eighteen hundred and fifty-seven, streams of human beings are
flowing. Crowds of natives, from the low-caste Coolie to the
pompous Baboo, hurry along, either on foot or horseback.
Presently, far and near, the reveille is heard, and, in a little while,
long lines of troops, mounted and on foot, march towards the plain.
Then the clattering of horses’ hoofs, and the rumbling of guns, add to
the general commotion, and soon the plain is swarming with armed
men. Heavily-shotted field-guns are placed in position, and the
drawn sabres of the Dragoons flash in the sun’s rays, while on three
sides of the plain are bodies of troops armed with the new Enfield
rifles, that are ready, on the word being given, to belch forth fire, and
send their rotary messengers of death into the crowds of natives if
the necessity should arise.
The cause of this great gathering is to see eighty-five native soldiers
converted into felons. On the 24th of April the 3rd Native Cavalry had
been drawn up for parade, and, when the order to load had been
given, these eighty-five had resolutely refused to bite their cartridges.
For this mutinous act they had been tried by a court-martial,
composed of English and native officers, and sentenced to ten years’
imprisonment with hard labour; and on this Saturday morning, the
9th of May, the first part of the sentence—that of stripping them of
their uniform in the presence of all the regiments—is to take place.
At a given signal the doomed eighty-five are brought forward under a
strong guard of Rifles and Carabineers. They still wear their uniform
and have their accoutrements. Colonel Carmichael Smyth, the
Colonel of their Brigade, steps forth, and, in a loud, clear voice,
reads the sentence. That over, their accoutrements are taken from
them, and their uniforms are stripped from their backs. Then the
armourers and smiths step forth with their shackles and their tools,
and, in the presence of a great concourse of their old comrades, the
“eighty-five” stand with the outward symbols of their black disgrace
fastened upon them.
With loud cries they lift up their arms, and implore the General to
have mercy upon them, and save them from ignominious doom. But
the fiat has gone forth, and they stand there manacled felons. Then,
in the agony of despair, they turn to their comrades and hurl
reproaches at them for quietly permitting such dire disgrace to fall
upon them. There is not a Sepoy or native civilian present but who
gasps for breath as he feels the rising indignation in his throat. But,
in the presence of the stern white soldiers, of the loaded guns, of the
grooved rifles, and the glittering sabres, they dare not strike. As the
prisoners make their appeal, there moves, swiftly, silently amongst
the crowds of natives, a tall, slim man—a Hindoo. His movements
are snake-like; his eyes glisten with a deadly fire. As he goes, he
whispers—
“Courage, and wait!”
The crowds commence to disperse. The felon “eighty-five” are
marched to the gaol, two miles from the cantonment, with only a
native guard over them.
As the day wears on the storm passes away, and when the shades
of evening fall upon Meerut, all is quiet and peaceful. It is one of
those nights that may be described, but which few persons, who
have never been in hot countries, can realise. The air is stagnant.
The stars seem to quiver in a haze. Not a branch stirs, not a leaf
rustles. Myriads of fire-flies—Nature’s living jewels—dance about in
bewildering confusion. Occasionally the melancholy sounds of a
tom-tom, varied by the screech of a jackal, is heard. But with this
exception, a death-like silence seems to reign in the city.
Seated on the verandah of a pretty bungalow in the European
quarter, is a young man—a civilian. His physique is that of a trained
athlete. He is handsome, too, with a mass of black hair falling over a
prominent forehead. His name is Walter Gordon; he is the son of a
wealthy merchant of Meerut, who had died very suddenly, and
Walter had but recently come out from England to take charge of his
father’s business. He is not alone now. His companion is a lady
slightly his junior. She is very pretty. A pure English face, with tender
brown eyes, and soft, moist lips. A wealth of rich brown hair is
negligently held together by two large gold pins of native
workmanship. This young lady is the betrothed of Walter Gordon.
Her father (Mr. Meredith) had held a Civil Service appointment in
Meerut, but had died some two years before the opening events of
this story, leaving a widow and two daughters, Flora and Emily. Emily
had been recently married to an officer of one of the regiments
stationed in the city. Lieutenant Harper and Walter Gordon were very
old friends. They had been school-mates together, and they both laid
siege at one time to the hearts of the Misses Meredith. Harper had
been successful, and carried his prize off to his quarters, but Walter
had delayed his marriage, pending the settlement of some legal
difficulty in connection with property to which he was entitled. That
difficulty was now removed, and Walter had gone on this evening to
Mrs. Meredith’s bungalow to arrange for his marriage with Flora.
“Flo, are you not glad that we are soon to be united?” he asks, as he
observes that she is silent, and makes no remark on the news he
has brought her.
“Yes, love. You say that you wish our marriage to take place in a
month’s time. Would that it were to-morrow; ay, even to-night!”
He looked at her in astonishment.
“Flo, what do you mean?”
“I mean that in a month’s time you and I may be separated.”
“Separated?” he repeated.
“Yes. Perhaps dead.”
“Dead!” he echoed—his astonishment increasing at the strangeness
of her manner.
“Ah, love,” she murmured, as she placed her arms around his neck,
and her head drooped upon his breast,—“strange as you are yet to
the ways of the country, you surely cannot be blind to signs which
rise on every side, that a storm is approaching.”
“A storm. To what do you allude?”
“To the discontented state of the natives, who are ripe for revolt. We
tremble upon the brink of a mine that may at any moment be sprung;
and what the consequences will be I shudder to think.”
“These are but morbid fears, Flo,” he answered, as he caressed her.
“Believe me that our power is too strong, and too much dreaded by
the natives to allow any serious outbreak. The example we made of
the ‘ighty-five’ on the parade this morning will strike terror to the
hearts of those who might have contemplated any rashness.”
“There you are in error, Walter; what our troops did this morning has
only increased our danger manifold. There is not a Sepoy in all
Meerut to-night, but who is nursing in his breast feelings of the most
deadly hatred towards the English. The fire smoulders, and a breath
will fan it into flame. If the natives should rise, may God in His mercy
pity us.”
“Tut, tut, my girl; you are alarming yourself with foolish fears, and
there is nothing at all to justify your apprehensions. The soldiers dare
not revolt, and if they did, we have such an overwhelming force of
British in the cantonment, that all the native regiments would be
speedily cut to pieces.”
“The belief in our security is our danger,” she answered. “Remember
I know the country and the natives well. I have been in India from the
time I was a little child. Those who are in authority seem to me to be
wilfully blind to the signs which indicate coming mischief. For some
days past, a man, ostensibly a Fakeer, has been riding about the city
on an elephant, and visiting all the native quarters. I do not believe
that man to be what he professes to be. He is an agent moving
about from place to place, and stirring up the rankling hatred for the
British which is in the hearts of all his countrymen.”
“This is a strange statement; and you speak as though you had
authority for what you say.”
“I have authority.”
“Ah! what do you mean?” he cried in an excited tone.
“Oh, Walter, what I have to tell you I know will give you pain, but it
must be told. I have held it back until I feel that to keep it from you
longer would be unfair. You have in your service a sicar, a young
man who was brought up in an English school.”
“You refer to Jewan Bukht. Well, what of him?”
“He has confessed love for me!”
“Confessed love for you!” Walter cried angrily, as he ground his
teeth, and tightened his arm around the waist of his beloved. “By
Heaven, I will horsewhip the scoundrel. But come, Flo, you are
joking, and do not wish me to seriously believe anything so absurd.”
“Would that it were a joke! Jewan has been your trusted and
confidential clerk, and whenever you have had a message to send to
me, he has always brought it. Latterly he has grown unpleasantly
familiar, and on one occasion asked me to kiss him. On my showing
anger at the insult, he apologised, and promised not to offend again.
A few days ago he called, and appeared to me to be under the
influence of bang. He seized my hand, and fell upon his knees at my
feet. He said that in a little while the natives intended to rise in the
name of the Prophet; that every white person in Meerut would be
massacred; but, if I would consent to become his wife, he would
save me and those belonging to me. In disgust with the fellow for his
impertinence, I called him a dog, and threatened to inform you of his
conduct. He became greatly enraged, and said that I should be his
by fair or foul means, and that you should die by his hand.”
“Why did you not tell me this before, Flo?”
“Because I looked upon it at the time as the freak of a drunken man,
and I had no wish to give you unnecessary pain. But it was foolish of
me. I ought to have told you.”
“When did this scene take place?” Walter asked, thoughtfully.
“Three days ago. That is, last Wednesday.”
“This is very strange, Flora. On that day the rascal asked me for
leave of absence till Monday, as he wished to visit a sick relation.”
“Depend upon it, Walter, he will never return to you.”
“Never return! You are really talking in riddles. What do you mean?”
“I feel sure that there was truth in what the man told me, and his
leaving you on that day was part of the scheme. You may say I am
nervous, foolish, stupid, what you will, but I understand the natives
well. I know how treacherous they can be; and it is useless our trying
to cheat ourselves into a belief that they love us, because they don’t
do anything of the sort.”
Walter laughed, as he pressed a kiss on the lips of his companion.
“Look here, Flora, you are certainly low-spirited to-night, and have
got some strange fancies in your head. If you have any more of
these morbid imaginings, I shall have to place you under the care of
Dr. Macdonald. I have been very stupid to lend a serious hearing to
your fears for a single moment. I am sure you are wrong. Our power
is too great to be broken. The natives fear that power too much to do
anything rash. Ah! good-evening, Harper, old boy,” he exclaimed,
springing from his seat, as Lieutenant Harper and his wife entered
the verandah. “I am very glad you have come. Flo is suffering from a
fit of nervousness, and wants cheering up. Look here, Emily,” with a
laugh, and turning to Mrs. Harper, “just give your sister a shaking,
and shake her into a better frame of mind.”
“Surely you young people have not been quarrelling,” Harper
remarked, as he threw himself into a seat, and offered his friend a
cigar.
“Oh dear no; but Flo has got an idea into her little head that the
natives are going to rise en masse, and massacre us all.”
“By Jove, they will have tough work, then,” laughs the lieutenant.
“They had an example this morning of what we can do. If there had
been the slightest sign of insubordination on the parade, we should
have mowed them down with grape and canister.”
“Don’t talk quite so loud, Master Charlie,” his wife remarked. “There
are two of the bearers at the end of the verandah, and they seem to
be listening.”
“All the better, my dear. Nothing like impressing these black wretches
with a sense of our superiority. What say you, Walter?”