d. The present war is the most
convincing proof of this. I was sent here to study the Anglo-Indian army
and the Russo-Indian frontiers, although we had no presentiment that war
was imminent, and had made no plans for attacking India. The folly
of such an idea is obvious. Further, if you regard me as a spy, Mr.
Kennedy, I beg you will have no scruple about informing the Governor of
my real character. I am ready at any time to justify myself before the
English authorities."
Mr. Kennedy held out his hand to him.
"You have misunderstood me, my dear Mr. Heideck. Your personal honour is
to me so far beyond all doubt, that I should never think for a moment
of putting you on a level with those spies who are tried for their lives
when caught."
At this moment one of the barefooted waiters, dressed in white, came
running and shouting into the saloon, "Great victory near Delhi! total
defeat of the Russian army!" at the same time triumphantly waving a
printed paper in his hand.
Mr. Kennedy jumped up, tore the paper from the boy's hand, and read the
news given out by the Bombay Gazette.
"Yes, it is true," he cried, his face beaming with joy. "A victory,
a great, decisive victory! Heaven be thanked--the fortune of war has
changed."
He gave the bearer of the joyful news a piece of gold and hastened
to inform the ladies. Heideck, however, remained behind, immersed in
thought. The hotel soon became lively. The English ran here and there,
shouting to one another the contents of the despatch, while a growing
excitement gradually showed itself in the streets. In the so-called
fort, the European quarter of Bombay, torches were lighted and
feux-de-joie fired. Heideck took one of the traps standing in front
of the hotel and ordered the driver to drive through the town. Here he
observed that the rejoicings were confined to the fort. As soon as the
conveyance reached the town proper, he found that it presented the same
appearance as on his first visit, and that there was nothing to show
or indicate the occurrence of extraordinary events. In spite of the
lateness of the hour, the narrow streets were busy and full of traffic.
All the houses were lighted up, and all the doors open, affording a
view of the interior of the primitive dwellings, of the artisans busy
at their work, of the dealers plying their trade, of the housewives
occupied with their domestic affairs. Evidently the inhabitants troubled
no more about the war than about t
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