"
Both the girls were pale, but they were quiet and steady. The Doctor
saw they were not likely to break down.
"That is a rum looking weapon you have got there, Bathurst," Wilson
said, as, after carrying down the spare guns and placing them ready
for firing, they lay down in their positions on the sandbags. The
weapon was a native one, and was a short mace, composed of a bar
of iron about fifteen inches long, with a knob of the same metal,
studded with spikes. The bar was covered with leather to break the
jar, and had a loop to put the hand through at the end.
"Yes," Bathurst said quietly; "I picked it up at one of the native
shops in Cawnpore the last time I was there. I had no idea then that
I might ever have to use it, and bought it rather as a curiosity;
but I have kept it within reach of my bedside since these troubles
began, and I don't think one could want a better weapon at close
quarters."
"No, it is a tremendous thing; and after the way I have seen you
using that pick I should not like to be within reach of your arm
with that mace in it. I don't think there is much chance of your
wanting that. I have no fear of the natives getting over here this
time."
"I have no fear of the natives at all," Bathurst said.
"I am only afraid of myself. At present I am just as cool as if
there was not a native within a thousand miles, and I am sure that
my pulse is not going a beat faster than usual. I can think of the
whole thing and calculate the chances as calmly as if it were an
affair in which I was in no way concerned.
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