I had not to wait long. But during the interval the kotwal told me that three of the colonel's house servants were lying dead in the go-downs of the outhouses, viz., the cook, the bearer and the sweeper, and that the chuprassy [office-messenger] could not live long, having been repeatedly stabbed, and two children had their throats cut. It was a fearful massacre and I could hardly believe that two men could have done it. There must have been more, but I only saw two and no one lived to tell the entire story of this ferocious attack.

Soon the regular beat of drilled and disciplined men was heard as the picket came as quick as they could up the steep ascent from the bazaar, and jolly little Crean, the wild sprig from the Green Isle, and Lavie both appeared. In as few words as possible I put them in possession of the facts. Lavie instantly sent off for his stomach pump, which he had not brought, not expecting he would require that implement. Crean set his sentries and scoured the bushes and rocks but found nothing new. The bodies of the slain were put in one outhouse by themselves, and as soon as Lavie said the young ladies could bear it, the parry entered their room and carried off the huge carcass of the dead Afghan. He was an enormous man, and I shuddered for poor Amy's bottom when I saw the immense size of his now dead, limp and hideous prick! No wonder it fitted tight and made a 'pop' when he had suddenly pulled it out of her unhappy behind! I had determined not to tell Lavie what I had seen that prick doing, but left him to suppose that I had arrived just in time to prevent a rape.

Then, and not till then, did I let him see the state I was in.

Dear reader, have you ever been wounded? If you have, you will remember how sickening it was when the skilful surgeon dressed your wounds. Mine were not dangerous, except one where the knife had just penetrated inside my ribs, but they grew necessarily painful as they got uncovered and the clothes were pulled, no matter how gently, away from them. Lavie insisted on my going to bed in Fanny's room. He said I must remain perfectly quiet and drink nothing but water (for I was dying of thirst and longed for a peg), for fear of inflammation setting in. Luckily, I had lost so much blood that unless I did something foolish there was little fear of my getting into a bad state from inflammation; still, it was wisest to take every precaution.

The state I was in, I wondered how my prick could have stood so exorbitantly stiff such a short time since, whilst I was toying with Fanny's cunt, trying to bring her to, for now it felt as if it would never stand again! I felt so deadly weak The excitement was over and the reaction had set in. I blamed myself, for I thought that had I had my wits about me I would have left Fanny's cunt alone and visited the other rooms first, and then in all probability poor Amy would never have been buggered. I wondered, did she know she had been? Or did a merciful heaven render her insensible before the brutal Afghan defiled her bottom with his beastly prick? I hoped the latter. I wondered at Fanny; I thought she would have been more heroic, but I made due allowance for her, and oh! she did look so lovely, and so did Amy, when they were both naked! And what a charming little cunt Mabel had too! And so on, and so on, until I fell into a kind of delirious sleep from which I did not awake for several days.

I remember that awakening very vividly. It was bright daylight. The window was open, as well as the door of the room, and the sweet cool air blew gently in upon me in the most refreshing manner, sometimes mingled with loud laughter which came rolling up the hillside from the busy bazaar. The twelve fine young whores had arrived, and I dare say I heard the happy laughter of some of the Tommies waiting anxiously for their turn for a jolly good fuck. I heard of this event from my young friend Crean, who told me later that Jumali was really an A1 poke, and a splendid and very pretty woman. In fact, Jumali was the favourite of all those useful and graceful women. It was she who, I afterwards heard at Peshawar, had always commenced the night with the colonel to be followed by three or four of the other fresh and plump ones. Ah! that 'inspection' cost the colonel dear, and might have cost him more than it did. Poor Amy! Poor Amy!

Well, then, I woke up, and at first wondered where I could be, but my arm in a sling, and a feeling of painful stiffness all over me, quickly recalled my wandering memory. There was someone in my room. I could hear him or her gently stirring on the chair, but I could not see who it was. I called out in a weak voice, 'Is anyone there?'

'Oh! Captain Devereaux! Are you all right then? Do you know me?' cried the sprightly Fanny, who came swiftly and smiling to my bedside, looking as fresh as a rose and as neat as usual, for Fanny was a very tidy girl at all times.

'Know you!' I cried in surprise, 'of course I know you, Fanny dear!'

'Mama! Mama! Papa! Come Captain Devereaux is not silly now. Come! Come!' she cried, running out of the bedroom.

Mrs Selwyn soon came as fast as her weakness would permit her, for the deadly narcotic which had been administered to her had made her exceedingly ill, and this was the first day she had left her bed since the events which I have, I fear, so feebly described, took place. At first she could not speak from emotion The tears rose to her eyes and sought along the lashes a place to roll forth, which at last they did. She took my unbound hand in both of hers and pressed it, and at length finding her voice, said, with much emotion and very slowly, 'Oh! Captain Devereaux! Captain Devereaux! What do we not owe you?'

'Nothing at all, dear Mrs Selwyn.'

'Nothing! Oh no! We owe you everything, the lives and honour of our girls! We can never repay you!' and without another word she bent down and kissed me, letting her tears fall upon my cheeks.

I could not but feel moved. Fanny stood by looking on with a mixture of amusement and apprehension on her face. Very comical. She was evidently amused at her mother kissing me, but why she should be apprehensive I could not tell. At all events she said nervously, 'He does not call me Louie now, mama!'

'Why! Did I call you that?' said I.

'Oh yes! You seemed to think I was your wife! You would insist that I should come to bed! You said you wanted me very badly, and I do not know what other rubbish.'

'Well! Fanny! That shows that Captain Devereaux loves his wife and that his only thoughts were on her when he was delirious!'

'Was I delirious?' I asked in amazement.

'I should think you were,' said Fanny, bursting into almost uncontrollable laughter. 'The things you said to me! You would have it I was your wife!'

'Ah, me!' said Mrs Selwyn. 'I never saw your wife, Captain Devereaux, but I never in my life wished a man not to be a married man as I wish you were not!'

'Because then he would marry me!' laughed Fanny.

There was a little awkward pause which I ended by saying, 'And I should have got a good and very lovely wife in that case, Fanny!'

Fanny blushed and looked more than pleased. Her eyes assumed that look which at times gave them the appearance of speaking love and affection.

'Ah now!' said I, laughing, 'if I were only a Mohammedan and you another, Fanny, I could marry you now! But you see we have the misfortune to be Christians.'

'Worse luck,' said Fanny with a sigh.

'Well! said Mrs Selwyn, 'I can only say that if it could be a pleasure to a mother to give her daughter to a man, it would have indeed been a pleasure to me to give Fanny to you, Captain Devereaux, for you have deserved her.'

'And who can tell,' said Fanny, innocently and quite unconscious of the sense of her words, 'but he may have me yet!'

'Come, Fanny! Captain Devereaux's beef tea. I can see he is tired. We have been talking too much to him and Dr Lavie will be furious with us if he finds it out.'