"
"Where is Mr. Bathurst?" Mrs. Doolan asked; "is he hurt, too? Why
did he jump down? I should not have thought," and she stopped.
"I fancy a sort of fury seized him," the Major said; "but whatever
it was, he fought like a giant. He is a powerful man, and that iron
mace is just the thing for such work. The natives went down like
ninepins before him. No, I don't think he is hurt."
"I will go out and see," Mrs. Doolan said; and taking a mug half
full of champagne from the table, she went out.
Bathurst was sitting on the ground leaning against the wall of the
house.
"You are not hurt, Mr. Bathurst, I hope," Mrs. Doolan said, as she
came up. "No, don't try to get up, drink a little of this; we are
celebrating our victory by opening a case of champagne. The Major
tells us you have been distinguishing yourself greatly."
Bathurst drank some of the wine before he replied.
"In a way, Mrs. Doolan, I scarcely know what I did do. I wanted to
do something, even if it was only to get killed."
"You must not talk like that," she said kindly; "your life is
as valuable as any here, and you know that we all like and esteem
you; and, at any rate, you have shown today that you have plenty
of courage."
"The courage of a Malay running amuck, Mrs. Doolan; that is not
courage, it is madness. You cannot tell--no one can tell--what
I have suffered since the siege began. The humiliation of knowing
that I alone of the men here am unable to take my part in the
defense, and that while others are fighting I am useful only to
work as a miner.
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