he contrary, revelled in acts of the most
abominable cruelty. It would seem that he massacred for the very
pleasure of massacring, and hundreds of British captives were killed
by famine, poison, or torture, simply to gratify his lust for murder.
Patience was shown towards this monster until patience became a fault,
and our inaction was naturally ascribed by him to fear. Had firmness
been shown by Lord Cornwallis, when Seringapatam was practically in
his power, the second war would have been avoided and thousands of
lives spared. The blunder was a costly one to us, for the work had to
be done all over again, and the fault of Lord Cornwallis retrieved by
the energy and firmness of the Marquis of Wellesley.

The story of the campaign is taken from various sources, and the
details of the treatment of the prisoners from the published
narratives of two officers who effected their escape from prisons.

G. A. Henty.

Chapter 1: A Lost Father.

"There is no saying, lad, no saying at all. All I know is that your
father, the captain, was washed ashore at the same time as I was. As
you have heard me say, I owed my life to him. I was pretty nigh gone
when I caught sight of him, holding on to a spar. Spent as I was, I
managed to give a shout loud enough to catch his ear. He looked round.
I waved my hand and shouted, 'Goodbye, Captain!' Then I sank lower and
lower, and felt that it was all over, when, half in a dream, I heard
your father's voice shout, 'Hold on, Ben!' I gave one more struggle,
and then I felt him catch me by the arm. I don't remember what
happened, until I found myself lashed to the spar beside him.

"'That is right, Ben,' he said cheerily, as I held up my head; 'you
will do now. I had a sharp tussle to get you here, but it is all
right. We are setting inshore fast. Pull yourself together, for we
shall have a rough time of it in the surf. Anyhow, we will stick
together, come what may.'

"As the waves lifted us up, I saw the coast, with its groves of
coconuts almost down to the water's edge, and white sheets of surf
running up high on the sandy beach. It was not more than a hundred
yards away, and the captain sang out,

"'Hurrah! There are some natives coming down. They will give us a
hand.'

"Next time we came up on a wave, he said, 'When we get close, Ben, we
must cut ourselves adrift from this spar, or it will crush the life
out of us; but before we do that, I will tie the two of us together.'

"He