The Star of India
Copyright© 2026 by Edward S. Ellis
Chapter 4: On the Threshold.
Who can be so welcome as the cherished one that comes to us from the jaws of death? The arrival of Baird Avery turned all the gloom into radiance, and lifted for the moment the shadow that hung over the doomed household. He paused only long enough to hold Marian for a moment in rapturous embrace, when he turned and warmly greeted her father and mother, trying in the meanwhile to answer the questions that each one rained upon him.
It took but a few minutes to give all the information at command, and then, as he was dusty, sun-burned and tired, he was glad to plunge into the house and into the bath. That refreshing luxury over, it was dark, and shortly after the evening meal was eaten. Emerging once more upon the veranda, Avery occupied one of the cane lounging chairs that were at the command of any one who chose to use them.
“Ah,” he sighed, puffing at his cheroot and stretching out in the delightful support, “this is what I call luxury and no mistake. I walked all of last night, up to sunrise this morning. I was so tired that I thought I never would become rested, but now the feeling is so delicious that it is worth all the labor that produces it. I fancy I could spend a week here without wanting to change my position.”
“Where is your luggage, doctor?”
“All the property subject to my control is resting in this chair. When Luchman told me that the palanquin bearers meant to kill me, of course I was careful of my movements. I did not give him any hint of my intention, but tried to mislead him, for he was strongly set against any effort on my part to join you. After he had gone, I went out of the bungalow with the intention of taking the most valuable things from the palanquin. I looked for the khansaman, but he was invisible. While trying to find him, I came upon two of the natives lurking near the corner of the bungalow, and no doubt on the watch for a chance to bury their knives in me. When I saw them, the cowardly scamps broke and ran in such terror that they were off before I could get any kind of aim.”
“Did you have trouble on the road?” asked the missionary.
“None at all, though I think it was due to the pains I took not to attract attention. There is no molestation at present of foreigners, and until there is, a little care will take you through many places where in a few days it will be certain death to show your face. I called on General Graves at the cantonment and told him that a revolt of the sepoys was sure to come before the first of next month.”
“How did he receive your information?”
“He thanked me like the gentleman he is, but I saw that he thought very little of what I said. He remarked that the same thing had been told him again and again within the past few weeks, and added with a laugh that the dog that barks the most bites the least. I tell you,” added the surgeon, rising to an upright sitting posture and speaking with great emphasis, “one of two things is certain—this impending mutiny is the most prodigious hoax of the nineteenth century, or it will be the most appalling massacre of modern times: I am inclined to believe it will prove the latter.”
“So am I,” added the missionary impressively. “We are standing on the threshold of judgment, and naught but the hand of God can save us from a terrible fate.”
“But He will save only those who try to save themselves,” ventured Marian, both she and her mother awed by the dreadful shadow that darkened their hearthstone.
“We will do all that lies within our power, but we are worms encircled by a ring of fire. Where the revolt is so widespread there is no safety this side of Calcutta, almost a thousand miles away.”
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