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diff --git a/5153-h/5153-h.htm b/5153-h/5153-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..34beba2 --- /dev/null +++ b/5153-h/5153-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,12784 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + Rung Ho!, by Talbot Mundy + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Rung Ho!, by Talbot Mundy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Rung Ho! + +Author: Talbot Mundy + +Release Date: June 2, 2009 [EBook #5153] +Last Updated: March 16, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUNG HO! *** + + + + +Produced by M.R.J., and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + RUNG HO! + </h1> + <h2> + A Novel + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Talbot Mundy + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>RUNG HO!</b></big> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h1> + RUNG HO! + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Howrah City bows the knee + More or less to masters three, + King, and Prince, and Siva. + Howrah City pays in pain + Taxes which the royal twain + Give to priests, to give again + (More or less) to Siva. +</pre> + <p> + THAT was no time or place for any girl of twenty to be wandering + unprotected. Rosemary McClean knew it; the old woman, of the sweeper + caste, that is no caste at all,—the hag with the flat breasts and + wrinkled skin, who followed her dogwise, and was no more protection than a + toothless dog,—knew it well, and growled about it in incessant + undertones that met with neither comment nor response. + </p> + <p> + “Leave a pearl of price to glisten on the street, yes!” she grumbled. + “Perhaps none might notice it—perhaps! But her—here—at + this time—” She would continue in a rumbling growl of half-prophetic + catalogues of evil—some that she had seen to happen, some that she + imagined, and not any part of which was in the least improbable. + </p> + <p> + As the girl passed through the stenching, many-hued bazaar, the roar would + cease for a second and then rise again. Turbaned and pugreed—Mohammedan + and Hindoo—men of all grades of color, language, and belief, but + with only one theory on women, would stare first at the pony that she + rode, then at her, and then at the ancient grandmother who trotted in her + wake. Low jests would greet the grandmother, and then the trading and the + gambling would resume, together with the under-thread of restlessness that + was so evidently there and yet so hard to lay a finger on. + </p> + <p> + The sun beat down pitilessly—brass—like the din of cymbals. + Beneath the sun helmet that sat so squarely and straightforwardly on the + tidy chestnut curls, her face was pale. She smiled as she guided her pony + in and out amid the roaring throng, and carefully refused to see the + scowls, her brave little shoulders seconded a pair of quiet, brave gray + eyes in showing an unconquerable courage to the world, and her clean, neat + cotton riding-habit gave the lie and the laugh in one to poverty; but, as + the crowd had its atmosphere of secret murmuring, she had another of + secret anxiety. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Neither had fear. She did not believe in it. She was there to help her +father fight inhuman wrong, and die, if need be, in the last ditch. T + a two-hundred-million crowd, held down and compelled by less than a +hundred thousand aliens. And, least of all, had the man who followed +her at a little distance the slightest sense of fear. He was far more +conversant with it than she, but—unlike her, and far more than the +seething crowd—he knew the trend of events, and just what likelihood +there was of insult or injury to Rosemary McClean being avenged in a +generation. +</pre> + <p> + He caused more comment than she, and of a different kind. His rose-pink + pugree, with the egret and the diamond brooch to hold the egret in its + place—his jeweled sabre—his swaggering, almost ruffianly air—were + no more meant to escape attention than his charger that clattered and + kicked among the crowd, or his following, who cleared a way for him with + the butt ends of their lances. He rode ahead, but every other minute a + mounted sepoy would reach out past him and drive his lance-end into the + ribs of some one in the way. + </p> + <p> + There would follow much deep salaaming; more than one head would bow very + low indeed; and in many languages, by the names of many gods, he would be + cursed in undertones. Aloud, they would bless him and call him + “Heaven-born!” + </p> + <p> + But he took no interest whatever in the crowd. His dark-brown eyes were + fixed incessantly on Rosemary McClean's back. Whenever she turned a corner + in the crowded maze of streets, he would spur on in a hurry until she was + in sight again, and then his handsome, swarthy face would light with + pleasure—wicked pleasure—self-assertive, certain, cruel. He + would rein in again to let her draw once more ahead. + </p> + <p> + Rosemary McClean knew quite well who was following her, and knew, too, + that she could do nothing to prevent him. Once, as she passed a species of + caravansary—low-roofed, divided into many lockable partitions, and + packed tight with babbling humanity—she caught sight of a pair of + long, black thigh boots, silver-spurred, and of a polished scabbard that + moved spasmodically, as though its owner were impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Mahommed Gunga!” she muttered to herself. “I wonder whether he would come + to my assistance if I needed him. He fought once—or so he says—for + the British; he might be loyal still. I wonder what he is doing here, and + what—Oh, I wonder!” + </p> + <p> + She was very careful not to seem to look sideways, or seek acquaintance + with the wearer of the boots; had she done so, she would have gained + nothing, for the moment that he caught sight of her through the opened + door he drew back into a shadow, and swore lustily. What he said to + himself would have been little comfort to her. + </p> + <p> + “By the breath of God!” he growled. “These preachers of new creeds are the + last straw, if one were wanting! They choose the one soft place where + Mohammedan and Hindoo think alike, and smite! If I wanted to raise hell + from end to end of Hind, I too would preach a new creed, and turn + good-looking women loose to wander on the country-side!—Ah!” He drew + back even further, as he spied the egret and the sabre and the stallion + cavorting down the street—then thought better of it and strode + swaggering to the doorway, and stood, crimson-coated, in the sunlight, + stroking upward insolently at his black, fierce-barbered beard. There was + a row of medal ribbons on his left breast that bore out something at least + of his contention; he had been loyal to the British once, whether he was + so now or not. + </p> + <p> + The man on the charger eyed him sideways and passed on. Mahommed Gunga + waited. One of the prince's followers rode close to him—leaned low + from the saddle—and leered into his face. + </p> + <p> + “Knowest not enough to salute thy betters?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga made a movement with his right hand in the direction of his + left hip—one that needed no explanation; the other legged his horse + away, and rode on, grinning nastily. To reassure himself of his + superiority over everybody but his master, he spun his horse presently so + that its rump struck against a tented stall, and upset tent and goods. + Then he spent two full minutes in outrageous execration of the men who + struggled underneath the gaudy cloth, before cantering away, looking, + feeling, riding like a fearless man again. Mahommed Gunga sneered after + him, and spat, and turned his back on the sunshine and the street. + </p> + <p> + “I had a mind to teach that Hindoo who his betters are!” he growled. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, risaldar-sahib!” said a voice persuasively. “By your own showing + the hour is not yet—why spill blood before the hour?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput swaggered to the dark door, spurs jingling, looking back across + his shoulder once or twice, as though he half-regretted leaving the Hindoo + horseman's head upon his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, sahib,” advised the voice again. “They be many. We are few. And, + who knows—our roads may lie together yet.” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga kicked his scabbard clear, and strode through the door. The + shadows inside and the hum of voices swallowed him as though he were a + big, red, black-legged devil reassimilated in the brewing broth of + trouble; but his voice boomed deep and loud after he had disappeared from + view. + </p> + <p> + “When their road and my road lie together, we will travel all feet + foremost!” he asserted. + </p> + <p> + Ten turnings further away by that time, Rosemary McClean pressed on + through the hot, dinning swarm of humanity, missing no opportunity to slip + her pony through an opening, but trying, too, to seem unaware that she was + followed. She chose narrow, winding ways, where the awnings almost met + above the middle of the street, and where a cavalcade of horsemen would + not be likely to follow her—only to hear a roar behind her, as the + prince's escort started slashing at the awnings with their swords. + </p> + <p> + There was a rush and a din of shouting beside her and ahead, as the + frightened merchants scurried to pull down their awnings before the + ruthless horse-men could ride down on them; the narrow street transformed + itself almost on the instant into a undraped, cleared defile between two + walls. And after that she kept to the broader streets, where there was + room in the middle for a troop to follow, four abreast, should it choose. + She had no mind to seek her own safety at the expense of men whose souls + her father was laboring so hard to save. + </p> + <p> + She got no credit, though, for consideration—only blame for what the + swordsmen had already done. One man—a Maharati trader—half-naked, + his black hair coiled into a shaggy rope and twisted up above his neck—followed + her, side-tracking through the mazy byways of the bewildering mart, and + coming out ahead of her—or lurking beside bales of merchandise and + waiting his opportunity to leap from shadow into shadow unobserved. + </p> + <p> + He followed her until she reached the open, where a double row of trees on + each side marked the edge of a big square, large enough for the drilling + of an army. Along one side of the square there ran the high brick wall, + topped with a kind of battlement, that guarded the Maharajah's palace + grounds from the eyes of men. + </p> + <p> + Just as she turned, just as she was starting to canter her pony beside the + long wall, he leaped out at her and seized her reins. The old woman + screamed, and ran to the wall and cowered there. + </p> + <p> + Very likely the man only meant to frighten her and heap insults on her, + for in '56, though wrath ran deep and strong, men waited. There was to be + sudden, swift whelming when the time came, not intermittent outrage. But + he had no time to do more than rein her pony back onto its haunches. + </p> + <p> + There came a clatter of scurrying hoofs behind, and from a whirl of dust, + topped by a rose-pink pugree, a steel blade swooped down on her and him. A + surge of brown and pink and cream, and a dozen rainbow tints flashed past + her; a long boot brushed her saddle on the off side. There was a sickening + sound, as something hard swished and whicked home; her pony reeled from + the shock of a horse's shoulder, and—none too gently—none too + modestly—the prince with the egret and the handsome face reined in + on his horse's haunches and saluted her. + </p> + <p> + There was blood, becoming dull-brown in the dust between them. He shook + his sabre, and the blood dripped from it then he held it outstretched, and + a horseman wiped it, before he returned it with a clang. + </p> + <p> + “The sahiba's servant!” he said magnificently, making no motion to let her + pass, but twisting with his sword-hand at his waxed mustache and smiling + darkly. + </p> + <p> + She looked down between them at the thing that but a minute since had + lived, and loved perhaps as well as hated. + </p> + <p> + “Shame on you, Jaimihr-sahib!” she said, shuddering. A year ago she would + have fallen from her pony in a swoon, but one year of Howrah and its daily + horrors had so hardened her that she could look and loathe without the + saving grace of losing consciousness. + </p> + <p> + “The shame would have been easier to realize, had I taken more than one + stroke!” he answered irritably, still blocking the way on his great horse, + still twisting at his mustache point, still looking down at her through + eyes that blazed a dozen accumulated centuries' store of lawless ambition. + He was proud of that back-handed swipe of his that would cleave a man each + time at one blow from shoulder-joint to ribs, severing the backbone. A + woman of his own race would have been singing songs in praise of him and + his skill in swordsman-ship already; but no woman of his own race would + have looked him in the eye like that and dared him, nor have done what she + did next. She leaned over and swished his charger with her little whip, + and slipped past him. + </p> + <p> + He swore, deep and fiercely, as he spurred and wheeled, and cantered after + her. His great stallion could overhaul her pony in a minute, going stride + for stride; the wall was more than two miles long with no break in it + other than locked gates; there was no hurry. He watched her through + half-closed, glowering, appraising eyes as he cantered in her wake, + admiring the frail, slight figure in the gray cotton habit, and bridling + his desire to make her—seize her reins, and halt, and make her—admit + him master of the situation. + </p> + <p> + As he reached her stirrup, she reined in and faced him, after a hurried + glance that told her her duenna had failed her. The old woman was + invisible. + </p> + <p> + “Will you leave that body to lie there in the dust and sun?” she asked + indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “I am no vulture, or jackal, or hyena, sahiba!” he smiled. “I do not eat + carrion!” He seemed to think that that was a very good retort, for he + showed his wonderful white teeth until his handsome face was the epitome + of self-satisfied amusement. His horse blocked the way again, and all + retreat was cut off, for his escort were behind her, and three of them had + ridden to the right, outside the row of trees, to cut off possible escape + in that direction. “Was it not well that I was near, sahiba? Would it have + been better to die at the hands of a Maharati of no caste—?” + </p> + <p> + “Than to see blood spilt—than to be beholden to a murderer? + Infinitely better! There was no need to kill that man—I could have + quieted him. Let me pass, please, Jaimihr-sahib!” + </p> + <p> + He reined aside; but if she thought that cold scorn or hot anger would + either of them quell his ardor, she had things reversed. The less she + behaved as a native woman would have done—the more she flouted him—the + more enthusiastic he became. + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba!”—he trotted beside her, his great horse keeping up easily + with her pony's canter—“I have told you oftener than once that I + make a good friend and a bad enemy!” + </p> + <p> + “And I have answered oftener than once that I do not need your friendship, + and am not afraid of you! You forget that the British Government will hold + your royal brother liable for my safety and my father's!” + </p> + <p> + “You, too, overlook certain things, sahiba.” He spoke evenly, with a + little space between each word. With the dark look that accompanied it, + with the blood barely dry yet on the dusty road behind, his speech was not + calculated to reassure a slip of a girl, gray-eyed or not, stiff-chinned + or not, borne up or not by Scots enthusiasm for a cause. “This is a native + state. My brother rules. The British—” + </p> + <p> + “Are near enough, and strong enough, to strike and to bring you and your + brother to your knees if you harm a British woman!” she retorted. “You + forget—when the British Government gives leave to missionaries to go + into a native state, it backs them up with a strong arm!” + </p> + <p> + “You build too much on the British and my brother, sahiba! Listen—Howrah + is as strong as I am, and no stronger. Had he been stronger, he would have + slain me long ago. The British are—” He checked himself and trotted + beside her in silence for a minute. She affected complete indifference; it + was as though she had not heard him; if she could not be rid of him, she + at least knew how to show him his utter unimportance in her estimation. + </p> + <p> + “Have you heard, sahiba, of the Howrah treasure? Of the rubies? Of the + pearls? Of the emeralds? Of the bars of gold? It is foolishness, of + course; we who are modern-minded see the crime of hoarding all that + wealth, and adding to it, for twenty generations. Have you heard of it, + sahiba?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” she answered savagely, swishing at his charger again to make him + keep his distance. “You have told me of it twice. You have told me that + you know where it is, and you have offered to show it to me. You have told + me that you and your brother Maharajah Howrah and the priests of Siva are + the only men who know where it is, and you lust for that treasure! I can + see you lust! You think that I lust too, and you make a great mistake + Jaimihr-sahib! You see, I remember what you have told me. Now, go away and + remember what I tell you. I care for you and for your treasure exactly + that!” She hit his charger with all her might, and at the sting of the + little whip he shied clear of the road before the Rajah's brother could + rein him in. + </p> + <p> + Again her effort to destroy his admiration for her had directly the + opposite effect. He swore, and he swore vengeance; but he swore, too, that + there was no woman in the East so worth a prince's while as this one, who + dared flout him with her riding-whip before his men! + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba!” he said, sidling close to her again, and bowing in the saddle in + mock cavalier humility. “The time will come when your government and my + brother, who—at present—is Maharajah Howrah—will be of + little service to you. Then, perhaps, you may care to recall my promise to + load all the jewels you can choose out of the treasure-house on you. Then, + perhaps, you may, remember that I said 'a throne is better than a grave, + sahiba.' Or else—” + </p> + <p> + “Or else what, Jaimihr-sahib?” She reined again and wheeled about and + faced him—pale-trembling a little—looking very small and frail + beside him on his great war-horse, but not flinching under his gaze for a + single second. + </p> + <p> + “Or else, sahiba—I think you saw me slay the Maharati? Do you think + that I would stop at anything to accomplish what I had set out to do? See, + sahiba—there is a little blood there on your jacket! Let that be for + a pledge between us—for a sign—or a token of my oath that on + the day I am Maharajah Howrah, you are Maharanee—mistress of all the + jewels in the treasure-house!” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered. She did not look to find the blood; she took his word for + that, if for nothing else. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder you dare tell me that you plot against your brother!” That was + more a spoken thought than a statement or a question. + </p> + <p> + “I would be very glad if you would warn my brother!” he answered her; and + she knew like a flash, and on the instant, that what he said was true. She + had been warned before she came to bear no tales to any one. No Oriental + would believe the tale, coming from her; the Maharajah would arrest her + promptly, glad of the excuse to vent his hatred of Christian missionaries. + Jaimihr would attempt a rescue; it was common knowledge that he plotted + for the throne. There would be instant civil war, in which the British + Government would perforce back up the alleged protector of a defenseless + woman. There would be a new Maharajah; then, in a little while, and in all + likelihood, she would have disappeared forever while the war raged. There + would be, no doubt, a circumstantial story of her death from natural + causes. + </p> + <p> + She did not answer. She stared back at him, and he smiled down at her, + twisting at his mustache. + </p> + <p> + “Think!” he said, nodding. “A throne, sahiba, is considerably better than + a grave!” Then he wheeled like a sudden dust-devil and decamped in a cloud + of dust, followed at full pelt by his clattering escort. She watched their + horses leap one after the other the corpse of the Maharati that lay by the + corner where it fell, and she saw the last of them go clattering, whirling + up the street through the bazaar. The old hag rose out of a shadow and + trotted after her again as she turned and rode on, pale-faced and crying + now a little, to the little begged school place where her father tried to + din the alphabet into a dozen low-caste fosterlings. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” she cried, and she all but fell out of the saddle into his arms + as the tall, lean Scotsman came to the door to meet her and stood blinking + in the sunlight. “Father, I've seen another man killed! I've had another + scene with Jaimihr! I can't endure it! I—I—Oh, why did I ever + come?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, dear,” he answered. “But you would come, wouldn't you?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Twixt loot and law—'tween creed and caste— + Through slough this people wallows, + To where we choose our road at last. + I choose the RIGHT! Who follows? +</pre> + <p> + HEMMED in amid the stifling stench and babel of the caravansary, secluded + by the very denseness of the many-minded swarm, five other Rajputs and + Mahommed Gunga—all six, according to their turbans, followers of + Islam—discussed matters that appeared to bring them little + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + They sat together in a dark, low-ceilinged room; its open door—it + was far too hot to close anything that admitted air—gave straight + onto the street, and the one big window opened on a courtyard, where a + pair of game-cocks fought in and out between the restless legs of horses, + while a yelling horde betted on them. On a heap of grass fodder in a + corner of the yard an all-but-naked expert in inharmony thumped a skin + tom-tom with his knuckles, while at his feet the own-blood brother to the + screech-owls wailed of hell's torments on a wind instrument. + </p> + <p> + Din—glamour—stink—incessant movement—interblended + poverty and riches rubbing shoulders—noisy self-interest side by + side with introspective revery, where stray priests nodded in among the + traders,—many-peopled India surged in miniature between the four hot + walls and through the passage to the overflowing street; changeable and + unexplainable, in ever-moving flux, but more conservative in spite of it + than the very rocks she rests on—India who is sister to Aholibah and + mother of all fascination. + </p> + <p> + In that room with the long window, low-growled, the one thin thread of + clear-sighted unselfishness was reeling out to very slight approval. + Mahommed Gunga paced the floor and kicked his toes against the walls, as + he turned at either end, until his spurs jingled, and looked with blazing + dark-brown eyes from one man to the other. + </p> + <p> + “What good ever came of listening to priests?” he asked. “All priests are + alike—ours, and theirs, and padre-sahibs! They all preach peace and + goad the lust that breeds war and massacre! Does a priest serve any but + himself? Since when? There will come this rising that the priests speak of—yes! + Of a truth, there will, for the priests will see to it! There is a + padre-sahib here in Howrah now for the Hindoo priests to whet their hate + on. You saw the woman ride past here a half-hour gone? There is a pile of + tinder ready here, and any fool of a priest can make a spark! There will + be a rising, and a big one!” + </p> + <p> + “There will! Of a truth, there will!” Alwa, his cousin, crossed one leg + above the other with a clink of spurs and scabbard. He had no objection to + betraying interest, but declined for the present to betray his hand. + </p> + <p> + “There will be a blood-letting that will do no harm to us Rajputs!” said + another man, whose eyes gleamed from the darkest corner; he, too, clanked + his scabbard as though the sound were an obbligato to his thoughts. “Sit + still and say nothing is my advice; we will be all ready to help ourselves + when the hour comes!” + </p> + <p> + “It is this way,” said Mahommed Gunga, standing straddle-legged to face + all five of them, with his back to the window. He stroked his black beard + upward with one hand and fingered with the other at his sabre-hilt. + “Without aid when the hour does come, the English will be smashed—worn + down—starved out—surrounded—stamped out—annihilated—so!” + He stamped with his heel descriptively on the hard earth floor. “And then, + what?” + </p> + <p> + “Then, the plunder!” said Alwa, showing a double row of wonderful white + teeth. The other four grinned like his reflections. “Ay, there will be + plunder—for the priests! And we Rajputs will have new masters over + us! Now, as things are, we have honorable men. They are fools, for any man + is a fool who will not see and understand the signs. But they are honest. + They ride straight! They look us straight between the eyes, and speak + truth, and fear nobody! Will the Hindoo priests, who will rule India + afterward, be thus? Nay! Here is one sword for the British when the hour + comes!” + </p> + <p> + “I have yet to see a Hindoo priest rule me or plunder me!” said Alwa with + a grin. + </p> + <p> + “You will live to see it!” said Mahommed Gunga. “Truly, you will live to + see it, unless you throw your weight into the other scale! What are we + Rajputs without a leader whom we all trust? What have we ever been?” He + swung on his heels suddenly—angrily—and began to pace the + floor again—then stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Divided, and again subdivided—one-fifth Mohammedan and four-fifths + Hindoo—clan within clan, and each against the other. Do we own + Rajputana? Nay! Do we rule it? Nay! What were we until Cunnigan-bahadur + came?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” All five men rose with a clank in honor to the memory of that man. + “Cunnigan-bahadur! Show us such another man as he was, and I and mine ride + at his back!” said Alwa. “Not all the English are like Cunnigan! A + Cunnigan could have five thousand men the minute that he asked for them!” + </p> + <p> + “Am I a wizard?—Can I cast spells and bring dead men's spirits from + the dead again? I know of no man to take his place,” said Mahommed Gunga + sadly. + </p> + <p> + He was the poorest of them, but they were all, comparatively speaking, + poor men; for the long peace had told its tale on a race of men who are + first gentlemen, then soldiers, and last—least of all—and only + as a last resource, landed proprietors. The British, for whom they had + often fought because that way honor seemed to lie, had impoverished them + afterward by passing and enforcing zemindary laws that lifted nine-tenths + of the burden from the necks of starving tenants. The new law was just, as + the Rajputs grudgingly admitted, but it pinched their pockets sadly; like + the old-time English squires, they would give their best blood and their + last rack-rent-wrung rupee for the cause that they believed in, but they + resented interference with the rack-rents! Mahommed Gunga had had + influence enough with these five landlord relations of his to persuade + them to come and meet him in Howrah City to discuss matters; the mere fact + that he had thought it worth his while to leave his own little holding in + the north had satisfied them that he would be well worth listening to—for + no man rode six hundred miles on an empty errand. But they needed + something more than words before they pledged the word that no Rajput + gentleman will ever break. + </p> + <p> + “Find us a Cunnigan—bring him to us—prove him to us—and + if a blade worth having from end to end of Rajputana is not at his + service, I myself will gut the Hindoo owner of it! That is my given word!” + said Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “He had a son,” said Mahommed Gunga quietly. + </p> + <p> + “True. Are all sons like their fathers? Take Maharajah Howrah here; his + father was a man with whom any soldier might be proud to pick a quarrel. + The present man is afraid of his own shadow on the wall—divided + between love for the treasure-chests he dare not broach and fear of a + brother whom he dare not kill. He is priest-ridden, priest-taught, and fit + to be nothing but a priest. Who knows how young Cunnigan will shape? Where + is he? Overseas yet! He must prove himself, as his father did, before he + can hope to lead a free regiment of horse!” + </p> + <p> + “Then Cunnigan-bahadur's watch-word 'For the peace of India,' is dead-died + with him?” asked Mahommed Gunga. “We are each for our own again?” + </p> + <p> + “I have spoken!” answered Alwa. As the biggest clan-chief left on all that + countryside, he had a right to speak before the others, and he knew that + what he said would carry weight when they had all ridden home again, and + the report had gone abroad in ever-widening rings. “If the English can + hold India, let them! I will not fight against them, for they are honest + men for all their madness. If they cannot, then I am for Rajputana, not + India—India may burn or rot or burst to pieces, so long as Rajputana + stands! But—” He paused a moment, and looked at each man in turn, + and tapped his sabre-hilt, “—if a Cunnigan-bahadur were among us—a + man whom I could trust to lead me and mine and every man—I would + lend him my sword for the sheer honor of helping him hack truth out of + corruption! I have nothing more to say!” + </p> + <p> + “One word more, cousin!” said Mahommed Gunga. “I was risaldar in + Cunnigan-bahadur's regiment of horse. There was more than mere discipline + between us. I ate his salt. Once—when he might have saved himself + the trouble without any daring to reproach him—he risked his own + life, and a troop, and his reputation to save a woman of my family from + capture, and something worse. There was never a Rajput or any other native + woman wronged while he was with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “I am no friend of Christian priests—of padres. But—” + </p> + <p> + “She who rode by just now? What, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I ride northward now, and then very likely South again. I can do nothing + in the matter, yet—were he in my shoes, and she a native woman at + the mercy of the troops—Cunnigan-bahadur would have assigned a guard + for her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! So I am thy sepoy?” sneered Alwa, standing sideways—looking + sideways—and throwing out his chest. “I am to do thy bidding, + guarding stray padres” (he spoke the word as though it were a bad taste he + was spitting from his mouth), “and herding women without purdah, while + thou ridest on assignations Allah knows where? Since when?” + </p> + <p> + “I have yet to refuse to guard thy back, or thy good name, Alwa!” Mahommed + Gunga eyed him straight, and thrust his hilt out. “The woman is nothing to + me—the padre-sahib less. It is because of the debt I owe to Cunnigan + that I ask this favor.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh. It is granted! Should she appeal to me, I will rip Howrah into rags + and burn this city to protect her if need be! She must first ask, though, + even as thou didst.” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga saluted him, bolt-upright as a lance, and without the + slightest change in his expression. + </p> + <p> + “The word is sufficient, cousin!” + </p> + <p> + Alwa returned his salute, and raised his voice in a gruff command. A saice + outside the window woke as though struck by a stick—sprang to his + feet—and passed the order on. A dozen horses clattered in the + courtyard and filed through the arched passage to the street, and Alwa + mounted. The others, each with his escort, followed suit, and a moment + later, with no further notice of one another, but with as much pomp and + noise as though they owned the whole of India, the five rode off, each on + his separate way, through the scattering crowd. + </p> + <p> + Then Mahommed Gunga called for his own horse and the lone armed man of his + own race who acted squire to him. + </p> + <p> + “Did any overhear our talk?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “No, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the saice, even?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sahib. He slept.” + </p> + <p> + “He awoke most suddenly, and at not much noise.” + </p> + <p> + “For that reason I know he slept, sahib. Had he been pretending, he would + have wakened slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art no idiot!” said Mahommed Gunga. “Wait here until I return, and + lie a few lies if any ask thee why we six came together, and of what we + spoke!” + </p> + <p> + Then he mounted and rode off slowly, picking his way through the throng + much more cautiously and considerately than his relatives had done, though + not, apparently, because he loved the crowd. He used some singularly + biting insults to help clear the way, and frowned as though every other + man he looked at were either an assassin or—what a good Mohammedan + considers worse—an infidel. He reached the long brick wall at last—broke + into a canter—scattered the pariah dogs that were nosing and + quarreling about the corpse of the Maharati, and drew rein fifteen minutes + later by the door of the tiny school place that Miss McClean had entered. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + For service truly rendered, and for duty dumbly done—For men who + neither tremble nor forget—There is due reward, my henchman. There + is honor to be won. There is watch and ward and sterner duty yet. + </p> + <p> + No sound came, from within the schoolhouse. The little building, coaxed + from a grudging Maharajah, seemed to strain for light and air between two + overlapping, high-walled brick warehouses. Before the door, in a spot + where the scorching sun-rays came but fitfully between a mesh of + fast-decaying thatch, the old hag who had followed Rosemary McClean lay + snoozing, muttering to herself, and blinking every now and then as a + street dog blinks at the passers-by. She took no notice of Mahommed Gunga + until he swore at her. + </p> + <p> + “Miss-sahib hai?” he growled; and the woman jumped up in a hurry and went + inside. A moment later Rosemary McClean stood framed in the doorway still + in her cotton riding-habit, very pale—evidently frightened at the + summons—but strangely, almost ethereally, beautiful. Her wealth of + chestnut hair was loosely coiled above her neck, as though she had been + caught in the act of dressing it. She looked like the wan, wasted spirit + of human pity—he like a great, grim war-god. + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, Miss Maklin-sahib!” + </p> + <p> + He dismounted as he spoke and stood at attention, then stared truculently, + too inherently chivalrous to deny her civility—he would have cut his + throat as soon as address her from horseback while she stood—and too + contemptuous of her father's calling to be more civil than he deemed in + keeping with his honor. + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, Mohammed Gunga!” She seemed very much relieved, although doubtful + yet. “Not letters again?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Miss-sahib. I am no mail-carrier! I brought those letters as a favor + to Franklin-sahib at Peshawur; I was coming hither, and he had no man to + send. I will take letters, since I am now going, if there are letters + ready; I ride to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mahommed Gunga. I have letters for England. They are not yet + sealed. May I send them to you before you start?” + </p> + <p> + “I will send my man for them. Also, Miss Maklin-sahib” (heavens! how much + cleaner and better that sounded than the prince's ironical “sahiba”!) + </p> + <p> + “If you wish it, I will escort you to Peshawur, or to any city between + here and there.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but why?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw Jaimihr. I know Jaimihr.” + </p> + <p> + “And—” + </p> + <p> + “And—this is no place for a padre, or for the daughter of a padre.” + </p> + <p> + What he said was true, but it was also insolent, said insolently. + </p> + <p> + “Mahommed Gunga-sahib, what are those ribbons on your breast?” she asked + him. + </p> + <p> + He glanced down at them, and his expression changed a trifle; it was + scarcely perceptible, but underneath his fierce mustache the muscles of + his mouth stiffened. + </p> + <p> + “They are medal ribbons—for campaigns,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Three-four-five! Then, you were a soldier a long time? Did you—did + you desert your post when there was danger?” + </p> + <p> + He flushed, and raised his hand as though about to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Or did people insult you when you chose to remain on duty?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss-sahib, I have not insulted you!” said Mahommed Gunga. “I came here + for another purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “You came, very kindly, to ask whether there were letters. Thank you, + Mahommed Gunga-sahib, for your courtesy. There are letters, and I will + give them to your man, if you will be good enough to send him for them.” + </p> + <p> + He still stood there, staring at her with eyes that did not blink. He was + too much of a soldier to admit himself at a loss what to say, yet he had + no intention of leaving Howrah without saying it, for that, too, would + have been unsoldierly. + </p> + <p> + “The reason why your countrymen have found men of this land before now to + fight for them—one reason, at least—” he said gruffly, “is + that hitherto they have not meddled with our religions. It is not safe! It + would be better to come away, Miss-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you like to say that to my father? He is—” + </p> + <p> + “Allah forbid that I should argue with him! I spoke to you, on your + account!” + </p> + <p> + “You forget, I think,” she answered him gently, “that we had permission + from the British Government to come here; it has not been withdrawn. We + are doing no harm here—trying only to do good. There is always + danger when—” + </p> + <p> + “I would speak of that,” he interrupted—“You will not come away?” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Your father could remain.” + </p> + <p> + She shook her head again. “I stay with him,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “At present, Jaimihr is the danger, Miss-sahib; but I think that at + present he will dare do nothing. The Maharajah dare do nothing either, + yet. Should either of them make a move to interfere with you, it would not + be safe to appeal to the other one. You will not understand, but it is so. + In that event, there is a way to safety of which I would warn you.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mahommed Gunga. What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “There are men more than a day's ride away from here who are to be + depended on—by you, at least—under all circumstances. Is that + old woman to be trusted?” + </p> + <p> + “How should I know?” she smiled. “I believe she is fond of me.” + </p> + <p> + “That should be enough. I would like, if the Miss-sahib will permit, to + speak with her.” + </p> + <p> + At a word from Miss McClean the old hag came out into the sun again and + blinked at the Rajput, very much afraid of him. Mahommed Gunga saluted + Miss McClean—swore at the old woman—pointed a wordless order + with his right arm—watched her shuffle half a hundred yards + up-street—followed her, and growled at her for about five minutes, + while she nodded. Finally, he drew from the pocket of his crimson coat a + small handful of gold mohurs—fat, dignified coins that glittered—and + held them out toward her with an air as though they meant nothing to him—positively + nothing—Her eyes gleamed. He let her take a good look at the money + before replacing it, then tossed her a silver quarter-rupee piece, saluted + Miss McClean again—for she was watching the pantomime from the + doorway still—and mounted and rode off, his back looking like the + back of one who has neither care nor fear nor master. + </p> + <p> + At the caravansary his squire came running out to hold his stirrup. + </p> + <p> + “Picket the horse in the yard,” said Mahommed Gunga, “then find me another + servant and bring him to me in the room here!” + </p> + <p> + “Another servant? But, sahib—” + </p> + <p> + “I said another servant! Has deafness overcome thee?” He used a word in + the dialect which left no room for doubt as to his meaning; it was to be a + different servant—a substitute for the squire he had already. The + squire bowed his head in disciplined obedience and led the horse away. + </p> + <p> + An hour later—evening was drawing on—he came back, followed by + a somewhat ruffianly-looking half-breed Rajput-Punjaubi. The new man was + rather ragged and lacked one eye, but with the single eye he had he looked + straight at his prospective master. Mahommed Gunga glared at him, but the + man did not quail or shrink. + </p> + <p> + “This fellow wishes honorable service, sahib.” The squire spoke as though + he were calling his master's attention to a horse that was for sale. “I + have seen his family; I have inquired about him; and I have explained to + him that unless he serves at thee faithfully his wife and his man child + will die at my hands in his absence.” + </p> + <p> + “Can he groom a horse?” + </p> + <p> + “So he says, sahib, and so say others.” + </p> + <p> + “Can he fight?” + </p> + <p> + “He slew the man with his bare hands who pricked his eye out with a + sword.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! What payment does he ask?” + </p> + <p> + “He leaves that matter to your honor's pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Instruct him, then. Set him to cleaning my horse and then return + here.” + </p> + <p> + The squire was back again within five minutes and stood before Mahommed + Gunga in silent expectation. + </p> + <p> + “I shall miss thee,” said Mahommed Gunga after five minutes' reflection. + “It is well that I have other servants in the north.” + </p> + <p> + “In what have I offended, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “In nothing. Therefore there is a trust imposed.” + </p> + <p> + The man salaamed. Mahommed Gunga produced his little handful of gold + mohurs and divided it into two equal portions; one he handed to the + squire. + </p> + <p> + “Stay here. Be always either in the caravansary or else at call. Should + the old woman who serves Miss Maklin-sahib, the padre-sahib's daughter + come and ask thy aid, then saddle swiftly the three horses I will leave + with thee, and bear Miss Maklin-sahib and her father to my cousin Alwa's + place. Present two of the gold mohurs to the hag, should that happen.” + </p> + <p> + “But sahib—two mohurs? I could buy ten such hags outright for the + price!” + </p> + <p> + “She has my word in the matter! It is best to have her eager to win great + reward. The hag will stay awake, but see to it that thou sleepest not!” + </p> + <p> + “And for how long must I stay here, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “One month—six months—a year—who knows? Until the hag + summons thee, or I, by writing or by word of mouth, relieve thee of thy + trust.” + </p> + <p> + At sunset he sent the squire to Miss McClean for the letters he had + promised to deliver; and at one hour after sunset, when the heat of the + earth had begun to rise and throw back a hot blast to the darkened sky and + the little eddies of luke-warm surface wind made movement for horse and + man less like a fight with scorching death, he rode off, with his new + servant, on the two horses left to him of the five with which he came. + </p> + <p> + A six-hundred-mile ride without spare horses, in the heat of northern + India, was an undertaking to have made any strong man flinch. The stronger + the man, and the more soldierly, the better able he would be to realize + the effort it would call for. But Mahommed Gunga rode as though he were + starting on a visit to a near-by friend; he was not given to crossing + bridges before he reached them, nor to letting prospects influence his + peace of mind. He was a soldier. He took precautions first, when and where + such were possible, then rode and looked fate in the eye. + </p> + <p> + He appeared to take no more notice of the glowering looks that followed + him from stuffy balconies and dense-packed corners than of the mosquitoes + to and the heat. Without hurry he picked his way through the thronged + streets, where already men lay in thousands to escape the breathlessness + of walled interiors; the gutters seemed like trenches where the dead of a + devastated city had been laid; the murmur was like the voice of + storm-winds gathering, and the little lights along the housetops were for + the vent-holes on the lid of a tormented underworld. + </p> + <p> + But he rode on at his ease. Ahead of him lay that which he considered + duty. He could feel the long-kept peace of India disintegrating all around + him, and he knew—he was certain—as sometimes a brave man can + see what cleverer men all overlook—that the right touch by the right + man at the right moment, when the last taut-held thread should break, + would very likely swing the balance in favor of peace again, instead of + individual self seeking anarchy. + </p> + <p> + He knew what “Cunnigan-bahadur” would have done. He swore by + Cunnigan-bahadur. And the memory of that same dead, desperately honest + Cunningham he swore that no personal profit or convenience or safety + should be allowed to stand between him and what was honorable and right! + Mahommed Gunga had no secrets from himself; nor lack of imagination. He + knew that he was riding—not to preserve the peace of India, for that + was as good as gone—but to make possible the winning back of it. And + he rode with a smile on his thin lips, as the crusaders once rode on a + less self-advertising errand. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “You have failed!” whispered Fate, and a weary civilian + Threw up his task as a matter of course. + “Failed?” said the soldier. He knew a million + Chances untackled yet. “Get me a horse!” + </pre> + <p> + THAT was a strange ride of Mahommed Gunga's, and a fateful one—more + full of portent for the British Raj in India than he, or the British, or + the men amid whose homes he rode could ever have anticipated. He averaged + a little less than twenty miles a day, and through an Indian hot-weather, + and with no spare horse, none but a born horseman—a man of light + weight and absolute control of temper—could have accomplished that + for thirty days on end. + </p> + <p> + Wherever he rode there was the same unrest. Here and there were new + complaints he had not yet heard of, imaginary some of them, and some only + too well founded. Wherever there were Rajputs—and that race of + fighting men is scattered all about the north—there was + ill-suppressed impatience for the bursting of the wrath to come. They bore + no grudge against the English, but they did bear more than grudge against + the money-lenders and the fat, litigious traders who had fattened under + British rule. At least at the beginning it was evident that all the + interest of all the Rajputs lay in letting the British get the worst of + it; even should the British suddenly wake up and look about them and take + steps—or should the British hold their own with native aid, and so + save India from anarchy, and afterward reward the men who helped—the + Rajputs would stand to gain less individually, or even collectively, than + if they let the English be driven to the sea, and then reverted to the + age-old state of feudal lawlessness that once had made them rich. + </p> + <p> + Many of the Hindoo element among them were almost openly disloyal. The + ryots—the little one and two acre farmers—were the least + unsettled; they, when he asked them—and he asked often—disclaimed + the least desire to change a rule that gave them safe holdings and but one + tax-collection a year; they were frankly for their individual selves—not + even for one another, for the ryots as a class. + </p> + <p> + Nobody seemed to be for India, except Mahommed Gunga; and he said little, + but asked ever-repeated questions as he rode. There were men who would + like to weld Rajputana into one again, and over-ride the rest of India; + and there were other men who planned to do the same for the Punjaub; there + were plots within plots, not many of which he learned in anything like + detail, but none of which were more than skin-deep below the surface. All + men looked to the sudden, swift, easy whelming of the British Raj, and + then to the plundering of India; each man expected to be rich when the + whelming came, and each man waited with ill-controlled impatience for the + priests' word that would let loose the hundred-million flood of anarchy. + </p> + <p> + “And one man—one real man whom they trusted—one leader—one + man who had one thousand at his back—could change the whole face of + things!” he muttered to himself. “Would God there we a Cunnigan! But there + is no Cunnigan. And who would follow me? They would pull my beard, tell me + I was scheming for my own ends!—I, who was taught by Cunnigan, and + would serve only India!” + </p> + <p> + He would ride before dawn and when the evening breeze had come to cool the + hot earth a little through the blazing afternoons he would lie in the + place of honor by some open window, where he could watch a hireling flick + the flies off his lean, road-hardened horse, and listen to the plotting + and the carried tales of plots, pretending always to be sympathetic or + else open to conviction. + </p> + <p> + “A soldier? Hah! A soldier fights for the side that can best reward him!” + he would grin. “And, when there is no side, perhaps he makes one! I am a + soldier!” + </p> + <p> + If they pressed him, he would point to his medal ribbons, that he always + wore. “The British gave me those for fighting against the northern tribes + beyond the Himalayas,” he would tell them. “The southern tribes—Bengalis + of the south and east—would give better picking than mere medal + ribbons!” + </p> + <p> + They were not all sure of him. They were not all satisfied why he should + ride on to Peshawur, and decline to stay with them and talk good sedition. + </p> + <p> + “I would see how the British are!” he told them. And he told the truth. + But they were not quite satisfied; he would have made a splendid leader to + have kept among them, until he—too—became too powerful and + would have to be deposed in turn. + </p> + <p> + His own holding was a long way from Peshawur, and he was no rich man who + could afford at a mere whim to ride two long days' march beyond his goal. + Nor was he, as he had explained to Miss McClean, a letter-carrier; he + would get no more than the merest thanks for delivering her letters to + where they could be included in the Government mail-bag. Yet he left the + road that would have led him homeward to his left, and carried on—quickening + his pace as he neared the frontier garrison town, and wasting, then, no + time at all on seeking information. Nobody supposed that the Pathans and + the other frontier tribes were anything but openly rebellious, and he + would have been an idiot to ask questions about their loyalty. + </p> + <p> + Because of their disloyalty, and the ever-present danger that they were, + the biggest British garrison in India had to be kept cooped up in + Peshawur, to rot with fever and ague and the other ninety Indian plagues. + </p> + <p> + He wanted to see that garrison again, and estimate it, and make up his + mind what exactly, or probably, the garrison would do in the event of the + rebellion blazing out. And he wanted to try once more to warn some one in + authority, and make him see the smouldering fire beneath the outer + covering of sullen silence. + </p> + <p> + He received thanks for the letters. He received an invitation to take tea + on the veranda of an officer so high in the British service that many a + staff major would have given a month's pay for a like opportunity. But he + was laughed at for the advice he had to give. + </p> + <p> + “Mahommed Gunga, you're like me, you're getting old!” said the high + official. + </p> + <p> + “Not so very old, sahib. I was a young man when Cunnigan-bahadur raised a + regiment and licked the half of Rajputana into shape with it. Not too old, + sahib, to wish there were another Cunnigan to ride with!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mahommed Gunga, you're closer to your wish than you suppose! Young + Cunningham's gazetted, and probably just about starting on his way out + here via the Cape of Good Hope. He should be here in three or four months + at the outside.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean that, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Wish I didn't! The puppy will arrive here with altogether swollen notions + of his own importance and what is due his father's son. He's been captain + of his college at home, and that won't lessen his sense of self-esteem + either. I can foresee trouble with that boy!” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, there is a service I could render!” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput spoke with a strangely constrained voice all of a sudden, but + the Commissioner did not notice it; he was too busy pulling on a + wool-lined jacket to ward off the evening chill. + </p> + <p> + “Well, risaldar—what then?” + </p> + <p> + “I think that I could teach the son of Cunnigan-bahadur to be worth his + salt.” + </p> + <p> + “If you'll teach him to be properly respectful to his betters I'll be + grateful to you, Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, sahib, I shall have certain license allowed me in the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Do anything you like, in reason, risaldar! Only keep the pup from cutting + his eye-teeth on his seniors' convenience, that's all!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga wasted no time after that on talking, nor did he wait to + specify the nature of the latitude he would expect to be allowed him; he + knew better. And he knew now that the one chance that he sought had been + given him. + </p> + <p> + Like all observant natives, he was perfectly aware that the British + weakness mostly lay in the age of the senior officers and the slowness of + promotion. There were majors of over fifty years of age, and if a man were + a general at seventy he was considered fortunate and young. The jealousy + with which younger men were regarded would have been humorous had it not + come already so near to plunging India into anarchy. + </p> + <p> + He did not even trouble to overlook the garrison. He took his leave, and + rode away the long two-day ride to his own place, where a sadly attenuated + rent-roll and a very sadly thinned-down company of servants waited his + coming. There, through fourteen hurried, excited days, he made certain + arrangements about the disposition of his affairs during an even longer + absence; he made certain sales—pledged the rent of fifty acres for + ten years, in return for an advance—and on the fifteenth day rode + southward, at the head of a five-man escort that, for quality, was worthy + of a prince. + </p> + <p> + A little less than three months later he arrived at Bombay, and by dint of + much hard bargaining and economy fitted out himself and his escort, so + that each man looked as though he were the owner of an escort of his own. + Then, fretful at every added day that strained his fast-diminishing + resources, he settled down to wait until the ship should come that brought + young Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Lies home beneath a sickly sun, + Where humbleness was taught me? + Or here, where spurs my father won + On bended knee are brought me? +</pre> + <p> + HE landed, together with about a dozen other newly gazetted subalterns and + civil officers, cramped, storm-tossed, snubbed, and then disgorged from a + sailing-ship into a port that made no secret of its absolute contempt for + new arrivals. + </p> + <p> + There were liners of a kind on the Red Sea route, and the only seniors who + chose the long passage round the Cape were men returning after sick-leave—none + too sweet-tempered individuals, and none too prone to give the young idea + a good conceit of himself. He and the other youngsters landed with a + crushed-in notion that India would treat them very cavalierly before she + took them to herself. And all, save Cunningham, were right. + </p> + <p> + The other men, all homesick and lonely and bewildered, were met by + bankers' agents, or, in cases, only by a hotel servant armed with a letter + of instructions. Here and there a bored, tired-eyed European had found + time, for somebody-or-other's sake, to pounce on a new arrival and bear + him away to breakfast and a tawdry imitation of the real hospitality of + northern India; but for the most part the beardless boys lounged in the + red-hot customs shed (where they were to be mulcted for the privilege of + serving their country) and envied young Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + He—as pale as they, as unexpectant as they were of anything + approaching welcome—was first amazed, then suspicious, then pleased, + then proud, in turn. The different emotions followed one another across + his clean-lined face as plainly as a dawn vista changes; then, as the dawn + leaves a landscape finally, true and what it is for all to see, true + dignity was left and the look of a man who stands in armor. + </p> + <p> + “His father's son!” growled Mahommed Gunga; and the big, black-bearded + warriors who stood behind him echoed, “Ay!” + </p> + <p> + But for four or five inches of straight stature, and a foot, perhaps, of + chest-girth, he was a second edition of the Cunnigan-bahadur who had + raised and led a regiment and licked peace into a warring countryside; and + though he was that much bigger than his father had been, they dubbed him + “Chota” Cunnigan on the instant. And that means “Little Cunningham.” + </p> + <p> + He had yet to learn that a Rajput, be he poorest of the poor, admits no + superior on earth. He did not know yet that these men had come, at one + man's private cost, all down the length of India to meet him. Nobody had + told him that the feudal spirit dies harder in northern Hindustan than it + ever did in England, or that the Rajput clans cohere more tightly than the + Scots. The Rajput belief that honest service—unselfishly given—is + the greatest gift that any man may bring—that one who has received + what he considers favors will serve the giver's son—was an unknown + creed to him as yet. + </p> + <p> + But he stood and looked those six men in the eye, and liked them. And + they, before they had as much as heard him speak, knew him for a soldier + and loved him as he stood. + </p> + <p> + They hung sickly scented garlands round his neck, and kissed his hand in + turn, and spoke to him thereafter as man to man. They had found their goal + worth while, and they bore him off to his hotel in clattering glee, riding + before him as men who have no doubt of the honor that they pay themselves. + No other of the homesick subalterns drove away with a six-man escort to + clear the way and scatter sparks! + </p> + <p> + They careered round through the narrow gate of the hotel courtyard as + though a Viceroy at least were in the trap behind them; and Mahommed Gunga—six + medaled, strapping feet of him—dismounted and held out an arm for + him to take when he alighted. The hotel people understood at once that + Somebody from Somewhere had arrived. + </p> + <p> + Young Cunningham had never yet been somebody. The men who give their lives + for India are nothing much at home, and their sons are even less. Scarcely + even at school, when they had made him captain of the team, had he felt + the feel of homage and the subtle flattery that undermines a bad man's + character; at schools in England they confer honors but take simultaneous + precautions. He was green to the dangerous influence of feudal loyalty, + but he quitted himself well, with reserve and dignity. + </p> + <p> + “He is good! He will do!” swore Mahommed Gunga fiercely, for the other + emotions are meant for women only. + </p> + <p> + “He is better than the best!” + </p> + <p> + “We will make a man of this one!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you mark how he handed me his purse to defray expenses?” asked a + black-bearded soldier of the five. + </p> + <p> + “He is a man who knows by instinct!” said Mahommed Gunga. “See to it that + thy accounting is correct, and overpay no man!” + </p> + <p> + Deep-throated as a bull, erect as a lance, and pleased as a little child, + Mahommed Gunga came to him alone that evening to talk, and to hear him + talk, and to tell him of the plans that had been made. + </p> + <p> + “Thy father gave me this,” he told him, producing a gold watch and chain + of the hundred-guinea kind that nowadays are only found among the + heirlooms. Young Cunningham looked at it, and recognized the heavy + old-gold case that he had been allowed to “blow open” when a little boy. + On the outside, deep-chiseled in the gold, was his father's crest, and on + the inside a portrait of his mother. + </p> + <p> + “Thy father died in these two arms, bahadur! Thy father said: 'Look after + him, Mahommed Gunga, when the time is ripe for him to be a soldier.' And I + said: 'Ha, huzoor!' So! Then here is India!” + </p> + <p> + He waved one hand grandiloquently, as though he were presenting the throne + of India to his protegé! + </p> + <p> + “Here, sahib, is a servant—blood of my own blood.” + </p> + <p> + He clapped his hands, and a man who looked like the big, black-ended + spirit of Aladdin's lamp stood silent, instant, in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “He speaks no English, but he may help to teach thee the Rajput tongue, + and he will serve thee well—on my honor. His throat shall answer for + it! Feed him and clothe him, sahib, but pay him very little—to serve + well is sufficient recompense.” + </p> + <p> + Young Cunningham gave his keys at once to the silent servant, as a tacit + sign that from that moment he was trusted utterly; and Mahommed Gunga + nodded grim approval. + </p> + <p> + “Thy father saw fit to bequeath me much in the hour when death came on + him, sahib. I am no boaster, as he knew. Remember, then, to tell me if I + fail at any time in what is due. I am at thy service!” + </p> + <p> + Tact was inborn in Cunningham, as it had been in his father. He realized + that he ought at once to show his appreciation of the high plane of the + service offered. + </p> + <p> + “There is one way in which you could help me almost at once, Mahommed + Gunga,” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “Command me, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “I need your advice—the advice of a man who really knows. I need + horses, and—at first at least—I would rather trust your + judgment than my own. Will you help me buy them?” + </p> + <p> + The Raiput's eyes blazed pleasure. On war, and wine, and women, and a + horse are the four points to ask a man's advice and win his approval by + the asking. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib; why buy horses here? These Bombay traders have only crows' + meat to sell to the ill-advised. I have horses, and spare horses for the + journey; and in Rajputana I have horses waiting for thee—seven, all + told—sufficient for a young officer. Six of them are + country-bred-sand-weaned—a little wild perhaps, but strong, and up + to thy weight. The seventh is a mare, got by thy father's stallion Aga + Khan (him that made more than a hundred miles within a day under a + fifteen-stone burden, with neither food nor water, and survived!). A good + mare, sahib—indeed a mare of mares—fit for thy father's son. + That mare I give thee. It is little, sahib, but my best; I am a poor man. + The other six I bought—there is the account. I bought them cheaply, + paying less than half the price demanded in each case—but I had to + borrow and must pay back.” + </p> + <p> + Young Cunningham was hard put to it to keep his voice steady as he + answered. This man was a stranger to him. He had a hazy recollection of a + dozen or more bearded giants who formed a moving background to his dreams + of infancy, and he had expected some sort of welcome from one or two + perhaps, of his father's men when he reached the north. But to have men + borrow money that they might serve him, and have horses ready for him, and + to be met like this at the gate of India by a man who admitted he was + poor, was a little more than his self-control had been trained as yet to + stand. + </p> + <p> + “I won't waste words, Mahommed Gunga,” he said, half-choking. “I'll—er—I'll + try to prove how I feel about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! How said I? Thy father's son, I said! He, too, was no believer in + much promising! I was his servant, and will serve him still by serving + thee. The honor is mine, sahib, and the advantage shall be where thy + father wished it.” + </p> + <p> + “My father would never have had me—” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, forgive the interruption, but a mistake is better checked. Thy + father would have flung thee ungrudged, into a hell of bayonets, me, too, + and would have followed after, if by so doing he could have served the + cause he held in trust. He bred thee, fed thee, and sent thee oversea to + grow, that in the end India might gain! Thou and I are but servants of the + peace, as he was. If I serve thee, and thou the Raj—though the two + of us were weaned on the milk of war and get our bread by war—we + will none the less serve peace! Aie! For what is honor if a soldier lets + it rust? Of what use is service, mouthed and ready, but ungiven? It is + good, Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur, that thou art come at last!” + </p> + <p> + He saluted and backed out through the swinging door. He had come in his + uniform of risaldar of the elder Cunningham's now disbanded regiment, so + he had not removed his boots as another native—and he himself if in + mufti—would have done. Young Cunningham heard him go swaggering and + clanking and spur-jingling down the corridor as though he had half a troop + of horse behind him and wanted Asia to know it! + </p> + <p> + It was something of a brave beginning that, for a twenty-one-year-old! + Something likely—and expressly calculated by Mahommed Gunga—to + bring the real man to the surface. He had been no Cunningham unless his + sense of duty had been very near the surface—no Englishman, had he + not been proud that men of a foreign, conquered race should think him + worthy of all that honor; and no man at all if his eye had been quite dry + when the veteran light-horseman swaggered out at last and left him to his + own reflections. + </p> + <p> + He had not been human if he had not felt a little homesick still, although + home to him had been a place where a man stayed with distant relatives + between the intervals of school. He felt lonely, in spite of his reception—a + little like a baby on the edge of all things new and wonderful. He would + have been no European if he had not felt the heat, the hotel was like a + vapor-bath. + </p> + <p> + But the leaping red blood of youth ran strong in him. He had imagination. + He could dream. The good things he was tasting were a presage only of the + better things to come, and that is a wholesome point of view. He was proud—as + who would not be?—to step straight into the tracks of such a father; + and with that thought came another—just as good for him, and for + India, that made him feel as though he were a robber yet, a thief in + another's cornfield, gathering what he did not sow. It came over him in a + flood that he must pay the price of all this homage. + </p> + <p> + Some men pay in advance, some at the time, and some pay afterward. All + men, he knew, must pay. It would be his task soon to satisfy these + gentle-men, who took him at his face value, by proving to them that they + had made no very great mistake. The thought thrilled him instead of + frightening—brought out every generous instinct that he had and made + him thank the God of All Good Soldiers that at least he would have a + chance to die in the attempt. There was nothing much the matter with young + Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I take no man at rumor's price, + Nor as the gossips cry him. + A son may ride, and stride, and stand; + His father's eye—his father's hand— + His father's tongue may give command; + But ere I trust I'll try him! +</pre> + <p> + BUT before young Cunningham was called upon to pay even a portion of the + price of fealty there was more of the receiving of it still in store for + him, and he found himself very hard put to it, indeed, to keep overboiling + spirits from becoming exultation of the type that nauseates. + </p> + <p> + None of the other subalterns had influence, nor had they hereditary + anchors in the far northwest that would be likely to draw them on to + active service early in their career. They had already been made to + surrender their boyhood dreams of quick promotion; now, standing in little + groups and asking hesitating questions, they discovered that their + destination—Fort William—was about the least desirable of all + the awful holes in India. + </p> + <p> + They were told that a subaltern was lucky who could mount one step of the + promotion ladder in his first ten years; that a major at fifty, a colonel + at sixty, and a general at seventy were quite the usual thing. And they + realized that the pay they would receive would be a mere beggar's pittance + in a neighborhood so expensive as Calcutta, and that their little private + means would be eaten up by the mere, necessities of life. They showed + their chagrin and it was not very easy for young Cunningham, watching + Mahommed Gunga's lordly preparations for the long up-country journey, to + strike just the right attitude of pleasure at the prospect without seeming + to flaunt his better fortune. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga interlarded his hoarse orders to the mule-drivers with + descriptions in stateliest English, thrown out at random to the world at + large, of the glories of the manlier north—of the plains, where a + man might gallop while a horse could last, and of the mountains up beyond + the plains. He sniffed at the fetid Bombay reek, and spoke of the clean + air sweeping from the snow-topped Himalayas, that put life and courage + into the lungs of men who rode like centaurs! And the other subalterns + looked wistful, eying the bullock-carts that would take their baggage by + another route. + </p> + <p> + Fully the half of what Mahommed Gunga said was due to pride of race and + country. But the rest was all deliberately calculated to rouse the wicked + envy of those who listened. He meant to make the son of “Pukka” Cunnigan + feel, before he reached his heritage, that he was going up to something + worth his while. To quote his own north-country metaphor, he meant to + “make the colt come up the bit.” He meant that “Chota” Cunnigan should + have a proper sense of his own importance, and should chafe at restraint, + to the end that when his chance did come to prove himself he would jump at + it. Envy, he calculated—the unrighteous envy of men less fortunately + placed—would make a good beginning. And it did, though hardly in the + way he calculated. + </p> + <p> + Young Cunningham, tight-lipped to keep himself from grinning like a child, + determined to prove himself worthy of the better fortune; and Mahommed + Gunga would have cursed into his black beard in disgust had he known of + the private resolutions being formed to obey orders to the letter and + obtain the good will of his seniors. The one thing that the grim old + Rajput wished for his protege was jealousy! He wanted him so well hated by + the “nabobs” who had grown crusty and incompetent in high command that + life for him in any northern garrison would be impossible. + </p> + <p> + Throughout the two months' journey to the north Mahommed Gunga never left + a stone unturned to make Cunningham believe himself much more than + ordinary clay. All along the trunk road, that trails by many thousand + towns and listens to a hundred languages, whatever good there was was + Cunningham's. Whichever room was best in each dak-bungalow, whichever + chicken the kansamah least desired to kill, whoever were the stoutest + dhoolee-bearers in the village, whichever horse had the easiest paces—all + were Cunningham's. Respect were his, and homage and obeisance, for the + Rajput saw to it. + </p> + <p> + Of evenings, while they rested, but before the sun went down, the old + risaldar would come with his naked sabre and defy “Chota” Cunnigan to try + to touch him. For five long weeks he tried each evening, the Rajput never + doing anything but parry,—changing his sabre often to the other hand + and grinning at the schoolboy swordsmanship—until one evening, at + the end of a more than usually hard-fought bout, the youngster pricked + him, lunged, and missed slitting his jugular by the merest fraction of an + inch. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” laughed Mahommed Gunga later, as he sluiced out the cut while his + own adherents stood near by and chaffed him. “The cub cuts his teeth, + then! Soon it will be time to try his pluck.” + </p> + <p> + “Be gentle with him, risaldar-sahib; a good cub dies as easily as a poor + one, until he knows the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave him to me! I will show him the way, and we will see what we will + see. If he is to disgrace his father's memory and us, he shall do it where + there are few to see and none to talk of it. When Alwa and the others ask + me, as they will ask, 'Is he a man?' I will give them a true answer! I + think he is a man, but I need to test him in all ways possible before I + pledge my word on it.” + </p> + <p> + But after that little accident the old risaldar had sword-sticks fashioned + at a village near the road, and ran no more risks of being killed by the + stripling he would teach; and before many more days of the road had + ribboned out, young Cunningham—bareback or from the saddle—could + beat him to the ground, and could hold his own on foot afterward with + either hand. + </p> + <p> + “The hand and eye are good!” said Mahommed Gunga. “It is time now for + another test.” + </p> + <p> + So he made a plausible excuse about the horses, and they halted for four + days at a roadside dak-bungalow about a mile from where a foul-mouthed + fakir sat and took tribute at a crossroads. It was a strangely chosen + place to rest at. + </p> + <p> + Deep down in a hollow, where the trunk road took advantage of a winding + gorge between the hills—screened on nearly all sides by green jungle + whose brown edges wilted in the heat which the inner steam defied—stuffy, + smelly, comfortless, it stood like a last left rear-guard of a white-man's + city, swamped by the deathless, ceaselessly advancing tide of green. It + was tucked between mammoth trees that had been left there when the space + for it was cleared a hundred years before, and that now stood like grim + giant guardians with arms out-stretched to hold the verdure back. + </p> + <p> + The little tribe of camp-followers chased at least a dozen snakes out of + corners, and slew them in the open, as a preliminary to further + investigation. There were kas-kas mats on the foursquare floors, and each + of these, when lifted, disclosed a swarm of scorpions that had to be + exterminated before a man dared move his possessions in. The once white + calico ceilings moved suggestively where rats and snakes chased one + another, or else hunted some third species of vermin; and there was a + smell and a many-voiced weird whispering that hinted at corruption and war + to the death behind skirting boards and underneath the floor. + </p> + <p> + It had evidently not been occupied for many years; the kansamah looked + like a gray-bearded skeleton compressed within a tightened shroud of + parchment skin that shone where a coffin or a tomb had touched it. He + seemed to have forgotten what the bungalow was for, or that a sahib needed + things to eat, until the ex-risaldar enlightened him, and then he + complained wheezily. + </p> + <p> + The stables—rather the patch-and-hole-covered desolation that once + had been stables—were altogether too snake-defiled and smelly to be + worth repairing; the string of horses was quartered cleanly and snugly + under tents, and Mahommed Gunga went to enormous trouble in arranging a + ring of watch-fires at even distances. + </p> + <p> + “Are there thieves here, then?” asked Cunningham, and the Rajput nodded + but said nothing. He seemed satisfied, though, that the man he had brought + safely thus far at so much trouble would be well enough housed in the + creaky wreck of the bungalow, and he took no precautions of any kind as to + guarding its approaches. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham watched the preparations for his supper with ill-concealed + disgust—saw the customary chase of a rubber-muscled chicken, heard + its death gurgles, saw the guts removed, to make sure that the kansamah + did not cook it with that part of its anatomy intact, as he surely would + do unless watched—and then strolled ahead a little way along the + road. + </p> + <p> + The fakir was squatting in the distance, on a big white stone, and in the + quiet of the gloaming Cunningham could hear his coarse, lewd voice tossing + crumbs of abuse and mockery to the seven or eight villagers who squatted + near him—half-amused, half-frightened, and altogether credulous. + </p> + <p> + Even as he drew nearer Cunningham could not understand a word of what the + fakir said, but the pantomime was obvious. His was the voice and the + manner of the professional beggar who has no more need to whine but still + would ingratiate. It was the bullying, brazen swagger and the voice that + traffics in filth and impudence instead of wit; and, in payment for his + evening bellyful he was pouring out abuse of Cunningham that grew viler + and yet viler as Cunningham came nearer and the fakir realized that his + subject could not understand a word of it. + </p> + <p> + The villagers looked leery and eyed Cunningham sideways at each fresh + sally. The fakir grew bolder, until one of his listeners smothered an open + laugh in both hands and rolled over sideways. Cunningham came closer yet, + half-enamoured of the weird scene, half-curious to discover what the stone + could be on which the fakir sat. + </p> + <p> + The fakir grew nervous. Perhaps, after all, this was one of those + hatefully clever sahibs who know enough to pretend they do not know! The + abuse and vile innuendo changed to more obsequious, less obviously filthy + references to other things than Cunningham's religion, likes, and + pedigree, and the little crowd of men who had tacitly encouraged him + before got ready now to stand at a distance and take sides against him + should the white man turn out to have understood. + </p> + <p> + But Cunningham happened to catch sight of a cloud of paroquets that swept + in a screaming ellipse for a better branch to nest in and added the one + touch of gorgeous color needed to make the whole scene utterly unearthly + and unlike anything he had ever dreamed of, or had seen in pictures, or + had had described to him. He stood at gaze—forgetful of the stone + that had attracted him and of the fakir—spellbound by the + wonder-blend of hues branch-backed, and framed in gloom as the birds' + scream was framed in silence. + </p> + <p> + And, seeing him at gaze, the fakir recovered confidence and jeered new + ribaldry, until some one suddenly shot out from behind Cunningham, and + before he had recovered from his surprise he saw the fakir sprawling on + his back, howling for mercy, while Mahommed Gunga beat the blood out of + him with a whalebone riding-whip. + </p> + <p> + The sun went down with Indian suddenness and shut off the scene of + upraised lash and squirming, naked, ash-smeared devil, as a magic-lantern + picture; disappears. Only the creature's screams reverberated through the + jungle, like a belated echo to the restless paroquets. + </p> + <p> + “He will sleep less easily for a week or two!” hazarded Mahommed Gunga, + stepping back toward Cunningham. In the sudden darkness the white breeches + showed and the whites of his eyes, but little else; his voice growled like + a rumble from the underworld. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you do it, risaldar? What did he say?” + </p> + <p> + “It was enough, bahadur, that he sat on that stone; for that alone he had + been beaten! What he said was but the babbling of priests. All priests are + alike. They have a common jargon—a common disrespect for what they + dare not openly defy. These temple rats of fakirs mimic them. That is all, + sahib. A whipping meets the case.” + </p> + <p> + “But the stone? Why shouldn't he sit on it?” + </p> + <p> + “Wait one minute, sahib, and then see.” He formed his hands into a trumpet + and bellowed through them in a high-pitched, nasal, ululating order to + somebody behind: + </p> + <p> + “Oh-h-h—Battee-lao!” + </p> + <p> + The black, dark roadside echoed it and a dot of light leapt up as a man + came running with what gradually grew into a lamp. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga seized the lamp, bent for a few seconds over the still + sprawling fakir, whipped him again twice, cursed him and kicked him, until + he got up and ran like a spectre for the gloom beyond the trees. Then, + with a rather stately sweep of the lamp, and a tremble in his voice that + was probably intentional—designed to make Cunningham at least aware + of the existence of emotion before he looked—he let the light fall + on the slab on which the fakir had been squatting. + </p> + <p> + “Look, Cunningham-sahib!” + </p> + <p> + The youngster bent down above the slab and tried, in the fitful light, to + make out what the markings were that ran almost from side to side, in + curves, across the stone; but it was too dark—the light was too + fitful; the marks themselves were too faint from the constant squatting of + roadside wanderers. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga set the lamp down on the stone, and he and the attendant + took little sticks, sharp-pointed, with which they began to dig hurriedly, + scratching and scraping at what presently showed, even in that rising and + falling light, as Roman lettering. Soon Cunningham himself began to lend a + hand. He made out a date first, and he could feel it with his fingers + before his eyes deciphered it. Gradually, letter by letter—word by + word—he read it off, feeling a strange new thrill run through him, + as each line followed, like a voice from the haunted past. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A.D. 1823. A.D. + SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF GENERAL ROBERT FRANCIS CUNNINGHAM + WHO DIED ON THIS SPOT + AETAT 81 + FROM + WOUNDS INFLICTED BY A + TIGER +</pre> + <p> + There was no sound audible except the purring of the lamp flame and the + heavy breathing of the three as Cunningham gazed down at the very crudely + carved, stained, often-desecrated slab below which lay the first of the + Anglo-Indian Cunninghams. + </p> + <p> + This man—these crumbled bones that lay under a forgotten piece of + rock—had made all of their share of history. They had begotten + “Pukka” Cunningham, who had hacked the name deeper yet in the crisscrossed + annals of a land of war. It was strange—it was queer—uncanny—for + the third of the Cunninghams to be sitting on the stone. It was + unexpected, yet it seemed to have a place in the scheme of things, for he + caught himself searching his memory backward. + </p> + <p> + He received an impression that something was expected of him. He knew, by + instinct and reasoning he could not have explained, that neither Mahommed + Gunga nor the other men would say a word until he spoke. They were waiting—he + knew they were—for a word, or a sign, or an order (he did not know + which), on which would hang the future of all three of them. + </p> + <p> + Yet there was no hurry—no earthly hurry. He felt sure of it. In the + silence and the blackness—in the tense, steamy atmosphere of + expectancy—he felt perfectly at ease, although he knew, too, that + there was superstition to be reckoned with—and that is something + which a white man finds hard to weigh and cope with, as a rule. + </p> + <p> + The sweat ran down his face in little streams a the prickly heat began to + move across his skin, like a fiery-footed centiped beneath his undershirt, + but he noticed, neither. He began to be unconscious anything except the + knowledge that the bones of his grandsire lay underneath him and that + Mahommed Gunga waited for the word that would fit into the scheme and + solve a problem. + </p> + <p> + “Are there any tigers here now?” he asked presently, in a perfectly normal + voice. He spoke as he had done when his servant asked him which suit he + would wear. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, sahib! Many.” + </p> + <p> + “Man-eaters, by any chance?” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga and the other man exchanged quick glances, but Cunningham + did not look up. He did not see the quick-flashed whites as their eyes met + and looked down again. + </p> + <p> + “There is one, sahib—so say the kansamah and the head man—a + full-grown tiger, in his prime.” + </p> + <p> + “I will shoot him.” Four words, said quietly—not “Do you think,” or + “I would like to,” or “Perhaps.” They were perfectly definite and without + a trace of excitement; yet this man had never seen a tiger. + </p> + <p> + “Very good, sahib.” That, too, was spoken in a level voice, but Mahommed + Gunga's eyes and the other man's met once again above his head. + </p> + <p> + “We will stay here four days; by the third day there will be time enough + to have brought an elephant and—” + </p> + <p> + “I will go on foot,” said Cunningham, quite quietly. “Tomorrow, at dawn, + risaldar-sahib. Will you be good enough to make arrangements? All we need + to know is where he is and how to get there—will you attend to + that?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. I wonder if my supper's ready.” + </p> + <p> + He turned and walked away, with a little salute-like movement of his hand + that was reminiscent of his father. The two Rajputs watched him in + heavy-breathing silence until the little group of lights, where the + horse-tents faced the old dak-bungalow, swallowed him. Then: + </p> + <p> + “He is good. He will do!” said the black-beard who had brought the lamp. + </p> + <p> + “He is good. But many sahibs would have acted coolly, thus. There must be + a greater test. There must be no doubt—no littlest doubt. Alwa and + the others will ask me on my honor, and I will answer on my honor, yes or + no.” + </p> + <p> + It was an hour before the two of them returned, and looked the horses over + and strolled up to bid Cunningham good night; and in the meanwhile they + had seen about the morrow's tiger, and another matter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + What found ye, then? Why heated ye the pot? + What useful metal down the channels ran? + Gold? Steel for making weapons? Iron? What? + Nay. Out from the fire we kindled strode a man! +</pre> + <p> + THEY set the legs of Cunningham's string-woven bed into pans of water, to + keep the scorpions and ants and snakes at bay, and then left him in pitch + darkness to his own devices, with a parting admonition to keep his + slippers on for the floor, in the dark, would be the prowling-place of + venomed death. + </p> + <p> + It was he who set the lamp on the little table by his bedside, for his + servant—for the first time on that journey—was not at hand to + execute his thoughts almost before he had spoken them. Mahommed Gunga had + explained that the man was sick; and that seemed strange, for he had been + well enough, and more than usually efficient, but an hour before. + </p> + <p> + But there were stranger things and far more irritating ones to interfere + with the peaceful passage of the night. There were sounds that were + unaccountable; there was the memory of the wayside tombstone and the train + of thought that it engendered. Added to the hell-hot, baking stuffiness + that radiated from the walls, there came the squeaking of a punka rope + pulled out of time—the piece of piping in the mud-brick wall through + which the rope passed had become clogged and rusted, and the villager + pressed into service had forgotten how to pull; he jerked at the cord + between nods as the heat of the veranda and the unaccustomed night duty + combined to make him sleepy. + </p> + <p> + Soon the squeaking became intolerable, and Cunningham swore at him—in + English, because he spoke little of any native language yet, and had not + the least idea in any case what the punka-wallah's tongue might be. For a + while after that the pulling was more even; he lay on one elbow, letting + the swinging mat fan just miss his ear, and examining his rifle and + pistols for lack of anything better to keep him from going mad. Then, + suddenly, the pulling ceased altogether. Silence and hell heat shut down + on him like a coffin lid. Even the lamp flame close beside him seemed to + grow dim; the weight of black night that was suffocating him seemed to + crush light out of the flame as well. + </p> + <p> + No living mortal could endure that, he imagined. He swore aloud, but there + was no answer, so he got up, after crashing his rifle-butt down on the + floor to scare away anything that crawled. For a moment he stood, + undecided whether to take the lamp or rifle with him—then decided on + the rifle, for the lamp might blow out in some unexpected night gust, + whereas if he left it where it was it would go on burning and show him the + way back to bed again. Besides, he was too unaccustomed to the joy of + owning the last new thing in sporting rifles to hesitate for long about + what to keep within his grasp. + </p> + <p> + Through the open door he could see nothing but pitch-blackness, + unpunctuated even by a single star. There were no lights where the tents + stood, so he judged that even the accustomed natives had found the added + heat of Mahommed Gunga's watch-fires intolerable and had raked them out; + but from where he imagined that the village must be came the + dum-tu-dum-tu-dum of tom-toms, like fever blood pulsating in the veins of + devils of the night. + </p> + <p> + The punka-wallah slept. He could just make out the man's blurred shape—a + shadow in the shadows—dog-curled, with the punkah rope looped round + his foot. He kicked him gently, and the man stirred, but fell asleep + again. He kicked him harder. The man sat up and stared, terrified; the + whites of his eyes were distinctly visible. He seemed to have forgotten + why he was there, and to imagine that he saw a ghost. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham spoke to him—he first words that came into his head. + </p> + <p> + “Go on pulling,” he said in English, quite kindly. + </p> + <p> + But if he had loosed his rifle off, the effect could not have been more + instantaneous. Clutching his twisted rag of a turban in one hand, and + kicking his leg free, he ran for it—leaped the veranda rail, and + vanished—a night shadow, swallowed by its mother night. + </p> + <p> + “Come back!” called Cunningham. “Iderao! I won't hurt you!” + </p> + <p> + But there was no answer, save the tom-toms' thunder, swelling now into a + devil's chorus-coming nearer. It seemed to be coming from the forest, but + he reasoned that it could not be; it must be some village marriage feast, + or perhaps an orgy; he had paid out what would seem to the villagers a lot + of money, and it might be that they were celebrating the occasion. It was + strange, though, that he could see no lights where the village ought to + be. + </p> + <p> + For a moment he had a half-formed intention to shout for Mahommed Gunga; + but he checked that, reasoning that the Rajput might think he was afraid. + Then his eye caught sight of something blacker than the shadows—something + long and thin and creepy that moved, and he remembered that bed, where the + pans of water would protect him, was the only safe place. + </p> + <p> + So he returned into the hot, black silence where the tiny lamp-flame + guttered and threw shadows. He wondered why it guttered. It seemed to be + actually short of air. There were four rooms, he remembered, to the + bungalow, all connected and each opening outward by a door that faced one + of the four sides; he wondered whether the outer doors were opened to + admit a draught, and started to investigate. + </p> + <p> + Two of them were shut tight, and he could not kick them open; the + dried-out teak and the heavy iron bolts held as though they had been built + to resist a siege; the noise that he made as he rattled at them frightened + a swarm of unseen things—unguessed-at shapes—that scurried + away. He thought he could see beady little eyes that looked and + disappeared and circled round and stopped to look again. He could hear + creepy movements in the stillness. It seemed better to leave those doors + alone. + </p> + <p> + One other door, which faced that of his own room, was open wide, and he + could feel the forest through it; there was nothing to be seen, but the + stillness moved. The velvet blackness was deeper by a shade, and the heat, + uprising to get even with the sky, bore up a stench with it. There was no + draught, no movement except upward. Earth was panting-in time, it seemed, + to the hellish thunder of the tom-toms. + </p> + <p> + He went back and lay on the bed again, leaning the rifle against the + cot-frame, and trying by sheer will-power to prevent the blood from + bursting his veins. He realized before long that he was parched with + thirst, and reached out for the water-jar that stood beside the lamp; but + as he started to drink he realized that a crawling evil was swimming round + and round in rings in the water. In a fit of horror he threw the thing + away and smashed it into a dozen fragments in a corner. He saw a dozen + rats, at least, scamper to drink before the water could evaporate or + filter through the floor; and when they were gone there was no + half-drowned crawling thing either. They had eaten it. + </p> + <p> + He clutched his rifle to him. The barrel was hot, but the feel of it gave + him a sense of companionship. And then, as he lay back on the bed again, + the lamp went out. He groped for it and shook it. There was no oil. + </p> + <p> + Now, what had been hot horror turned to fear that passed all understanding—to + the hate that does not reason—to the cold sweat breaking on the + roasted skin. Where the four walls had been there was blackness of + immeasurable space. He could hear the thousand-footed cannibals of night + creep nearer—driven in toward him by the dinning of the tom-toms. He + felt that his bed was up above a scrambling swarm of black-legged things + that fought. + </p> + <p> + He had no idea how long he lay stock-still, for fear of calling attention + to himself, and hated his servant and Mahommed Gunga and all India. Once—twice—he + thought he heard another sound, almost like the footfall of a man on the + veranda near him. Once he thought that a man breathed within ten paces of + him, and for a moment there was a distinct sensation of not being alone. + He hoped it was true; he could deal with an assassin. That would be + something tangible to hate and hit. Manhood came to his assistance—the + spirit of the soldier that will bow to nothing that has shape; but it died + away again as the creeping silence once more shut down on him. + </p> + <p> + And then the thunder of the tom-toms ceased. Then even the venomed + crawlers that he knew were near him faded into nothing that really + mattered, compared to the greater, stealthy horror that he knew was + coming, born of the shuddersome, shut silence that ensued. There was + neither air nor view—no sense of time or space—nothing but the + coal-black pit of terror yawning—cold sweat in the heat, and a + footfall—an undoubted footfall—followed by another one, too + heavy for a man's. + </p> + <p> + Where heavy feet were there was something tangible. His veins tingled and + the cold sweat dried. Excitement began to reawaken all his soldier senses, + and the wish to challenge seized him—the soldierly intent to warn + the unaware, which is the actual opposite of cowardice. + </p> + <p> + “Halt! Who comes there?” + </p> + <p> + He lipped the words, but his dry throat would not voice them. Before he + could clear his throat or wet his lips his eye caught something lighter + than the night—two things—ten—twelve paces off—two + things that glowed or sheened as though there were light inside them—too + big and too far apart to be owl's eyes, but singularly like them. They + moved, a little sideways and toward him; and again he heard the heavy, + stealthy footfall. + </p> + <p> + They stayed still then for what may have been a minute, and another sense—smell—warned + him and stirred up the man in him. He had never smelled it in his life; it + must have been instinct that assured him of an enemy behind the strange, + unpleasant, rather musky reek that filled the room. His right hand brought + the rifle to his shoulder without sound, and almost without conscious + effort on his part. + </p> + <p> + He forgot the heat now and the silence and discomfort. He lay still on his + side, squinting down the rifle barrel at a spot he judged was midway + between a pair of eyes that glowed, and wondering where his foresight + might be. It struck him all at once that it was quite impossible to see + the foresight—that he must actually touch what he would hit if he + would be at all sure of hitting it. He remembered, too, in that instant—as + a born soldier does remember things—that in the dark an attacking + enemy is probably more frightened than his foe. His father had told it him + when he was a little lad afraid of bogies; he in turn had told it to the + other boys at school, and they had passed it on until in that school it + had become rule number one of school-boy lore—just as rule number + two in all schools where the sons of soldiers go is “Take the fight to + him.” + </p> + <p> + He leaped from the bed, with his rifle out in front of him—white-nightshirted + and unexpected—sudden enough to scare the wits out of anything that + had them. He was met by a snarl. The two eyes narrowed, and then blazed. + They lowered, as though their owner gathered up his weight to spring. He + fired between them. The flash and the smoke blinded him; the burst of the + discharge within four echoing walls deadened his cars, and he was aware of + nothing but a voice beside him that said quietly: “Well done, bahadur! + Thou art thy father's son!” + </p> + <p> + He dropped his rifle butt to the floor, and some one struck a light. Even + then it was thirty seconds before his strained eyes grew accustomed to the + flare and he could see the tiger at his feet, less than a yard away—dead, + bleeding, wide-eyed, obviously taken by surprise and shot as he prepared + to spring. Beside him, within a yard, Mahommed Gunga stood, with a drawn + sabre in his right hand and a pistol in his left, and there were three + other men standing like statues by the walls. + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here?” demanded Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “A half-hour, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” + </p> + <p> + “In case of need, sahib. That tiger killed a woman yesterday at dawn and + was driven off his kill; he was not likely to be an easy mark for an + untried hunter.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you enter without knocking?” + </p> + <p> + The ex-risaldar said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “I see that you have shoes on.” + </p> + <p> + “The scorpions, sahib—” + </p> + <p> + “Would you be pleased, Mahommed Gunga, if I entered your house with my hat + on and without knocking or without permission?” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, I—” + </p> + <p> + “Be good enough to have that brute's carcass dragged out and skinned, and—ah—leave + me to sleep, will you?” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga bowed, and growled an order; another man passed the order + on, and the tom-tom thundering began again as a dozen villagers pattered + in to take away the tiger. + </p> + <p> + “Tell them, please,” commanded Cunningham, “that that racket is to cease. + I want to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Again Mahommed Gunga bowed, without a smile or a tremor on his face; again + a growled order was echoed and re-echoed through the dark. The drumming + stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Is there oil in the bahadur's lamp?” asked Mahommed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Probably not,” said Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “I will command that—” + </p> + <p> + “You needn't trouble, thank you, risaldar-sahib. I sleep better in the + dark. I'll be glad to see you after breakfast as usual—ah—without + your shoes, unless you come in uniform. Good night.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput signed to the others and withdrew with dignity. Cunningham + reloaded his rifle in the dark and lay down. Within five minutes the + swinging of the punka and the squeaking of the rope resumed, but regularly + this time; Mahommed Gunga had apparently unearthed a man who understood + the business. Reaction, the intermittent coolth, as the mat fan swung + above his face, the steady, evenly timed squeak and movement—not + least, the calm of well-asserted dignity—all joined to have one way, + and Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur slept, to dream of fire-eyed tigers dancing on + tombstones laid on the roof of hell, and of a grandfather in full + general's uniform, who said: “Well done, bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + But outside, by a remade camp-fire, Mahommed Gunga sat and chuckled to + himself, and every now and then grew eloquent to the bearded men who sat + beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Aie! Did you hear him reprimand me? By the beard of God's prophet, that + is a man of men! So was his father! Now I will tell Alwa and the others + that I bring a man to them! By the teeth of God and my own honor I will + swear to it! His first tiger—he had never seen a tiger!—in the + dark, and unexpected—caught by it, to all seeming, like a trapped + man in a cage—no lamp—no help at hand, or so he thought until + it was all over. And he ran at the tiger! And then, 'you come with your + shoes on, Mahommed Gunga—why, forsooth?' Did you hear him? By the + blood of Allah, we have a man to lead us!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now, the gist of the thing is—Be silent. Be calm. + Be awake. Be on hand on the day. + Be instant to heed the first note of alarm. + And—precisely—exactly—Obey. +</pre> + <p> + AT Howrah, while Mahommed Gunga was employing each chance circumstance to + test the pluck and decision and reliability of Cunningham at almost every + resting-place along the Grand Trunk Road, the armed squire he had left + behind with a little handful of gold mohurs and three horses was finding + time heavy on his hands. + </p> + <p> + Like his master, Ali Partab was a man of action, to whom the purlieus of a + caravansary were well enough on rare occasions. He could ruffle it with + the best of them; like any of his race, he could lounge with dignity and + listen to the tales that hum wherever many horsemen congregate; and he was + no mean raconteur—he had a tale or two to tell himself, of women and + the chase and of the laugh that he, too, had flung in the teeth of fear + when opportunity arose. + </p> + <p> + But each new story of the paid taletellers, who squat and drone and reach + a climax, and then pass the begging bowl before they finish it—each + merrily related jest brought in by members of the constantly arriving + trading parties—each neigh of his three chargers—every new + phase of the kaleidoscopic life he watched stirred new ambition in him to + be up, and away, and doing. Many a dozen times he had to remind himself + that “there had been a trust imposed.” + </p> + <p> + He exercised the horses daily, riding each in turn until he was as lean + and lithe and hard beneath the skin as they were. They were Mahommed + Gunga's horses—he Mahommed Gunga's man; therefore, his honor was + involved. He reasoned, when he took the trouble to, along the good clean + feudal line that lays down clearly what service is: there is no honor, + says that argument, in serving any one who is content with half a service, + and the honor is the only thing that counts. + </p> + <p> + As day succeeded ever sultrier, ever longer-drawn-out day—as each + night came that saw him peg the horses out wherever what little breezes + moved might fan them—as he sat among the courtyard groups and + listened in the heavy heat, the fact grew more apparent to him that this + trust of his was something after all which a man of worth might shoulder + proudly. There was danger in it. + </p> + <p> + The talk among the traders—darkly hinted, most of it, and couched in + metaphor—was all of blood, and what would follow on the letting of + it. Now and then a loud-mouthed boaster would throw caution to the winds + and speak openly of a grim day coming for the British; he would be checked + instantly by wiser men, but not before Ali Partab had heard enough to add + to his private store of information. + </p> + <p> + Priests came from a dozen cities to the eastward, all nominally after + pilgrims for the sacred places, but all strangely indifferent to their + quest. They preferred, it would seem, to sit in rings with chance-met + ruffians—with believers and unbelievers alike—even with men of + no caste at all—and talk of other things than pilgrimages. + </p> + <p> + “Next year, one hundred years ago the English conquered India. Remember ye + the prophecy? One hundred years they had! This, then, is the last year. + Whom the gods would whelm they first deprive of reason; mark ye this! The + cartridges they serve out to the sepoys now are smeared with the blended + fat of cows and pigs. Knowing that we Hindoos hold the cow a sacred beast, + they do this sacrilege—and why? They would make us bite the + cartridges and lose our caste. And why again? Because they would make us + Christians! That is the truth! Else why are the Christian missionaries + here in Howrah?” + </p> + <p> + The listeners would nod while the little red fires glowed and purred above + the pipes, and others not included in the circle strained forward through + the dark to listen. + </p> + <p> + “The gods get ready now! Are ye ready?” + </p> + <p> + Elsewhere, a hadji—green-turbaned from the pilgrimage to Mecca—would + hold out to a throng of true believers. + </p> + <p> + “Ay! Pig's fat on the cartridges! The new drill is that the sepoy bites + the cartridge first, to spill a little powder and make priming. Which true + believer wishes to defile himself with pig's fat? Why do they this? Why + are the Christian missionaries here? Ask both riddles with one breath, for + both two are one!” + </p> + <p> + “Slay, then!” + </p> + <p> + “Up now, and slay!” + </p> + <p> + There would be an instant, eager restlessness, while Ali Partab would + glance over to where the horses stood, and would wonder why the word that + loosed him was so long in coming. The hadji would calm his listeners and + tell them to get ready, but be still and await the sign. + </p> + <p> + “There were to be one hundred years, ran the prophecy; but ninety-nine and + a portion have yet run. Wait for the hour!” + </p> + <p> + Then, for perhaps the hundredth time, Ali Partab would pretend that + movement alone could save one or other of his horses from heat apoplexy. + He would mount, and ride at a walking pace through the streets that seemed + like a night view of a stricken battle-field, turn down by the palace + wall, and then canter to the schoolhouse, where the hag—wiser than + her mistress—would be sleeping in the open. + </p> + <p> + “Thou! Mother of a murrain! Toothless one! Is there no word yet?” + </p> + <p> + The hag would leer up through the heavy darkness—make certain that + he had no lance with him with which to prod her in the ribs—scratch + herself a time or two like a stray dog half awakened—and then leer + knowingly. + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou the gold mohurs?” she would demand. + </p> + <p> + “Am I a sieve?” + </p> + <p> + “Let my old eyes see them, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + He would take out two gold coins and hold them out in such a way that she + could look at them without the opportunity to snatch. + </p> + <p> + “There is no word yet,” she would answer, when her eyes had feasted on + them as long as his patience would allow. + </p> + <p> + “Have they no fear then?” + </p> + <p> + “None. Only madness!” + </p> + <p> + “See that they bite thee not! Keep thy wits with thee, and be ready to + bring me word in time, else—” + </p> + <p> + “Patience, sahib! Show me the coins again—one little look—again + once!” + </p> + <p> + But Ali Partab would wheel and ride away, leaving her to mumble and gibber + in the road and curl again on to her blanket in the blackest corner by the + door. + </p> + <p> + Once, on an expedition of that kind, he encountered Duncan McClean + himself. The lean, tall Scotsman, gray-headed from the cares he had taken + on himself, a little bowed from heat and hopelessness, but showing no + least symptom of surrender in the kind, strong lines of a rugged face, + stood, eyes upward, in the moonlight. The moon, at least, looked cool. It + was at the full, like a disk of silver, and he seemed to drink in the + beams that bathed him. + </p> + <p> + “Does he worship it?” wondered Ali Partab, reining from an amble to a walk + and watching half-reverently. The followers of Mohammed are most + superstitious about the moon. The feeling that he had for this man of + peace who could so gaze up at it was something very like respect, and, + with the twenty-second sense that soldiers have, he knew, without a word + spoken or a deed seen done, that this would be a wielder of cold steel to + be reckoned should he ever slough the robes of peace and take it into his + silvered head to fight. The Rajput, that respects decision above all other + virtues, perhaps because it is the one that he most lacks, could sense + firm, unshakable, quick-seized determination on the instant. + </p> + <p> + Duncan McClean acknowledged the fierce-seeming stare with a salute, and + Ali Partab dismounted instantly. He who holds a trust from such as + Mahommed Gunga is polite in recognition of the trust. He leaned, then, + against the horse's withers, wondering how far he ought to let politeness + go and whether his honor bade him show contempt for the Christian's creed. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any way, I wonder,” asked the Scotsman, the clean-clipped + suspicion of Scots dialect betraying itself even through the Hindustanee + that he used, “of getting letters through to some small station?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not,” said the Rajput. + </p> + <p> + “You are a Mohammedan?” The Scotsman peered at him, adjusting his + viewpoint to the moon's rays. “I see you are. A Rajput, too, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a Rangar here not very long ago.” This man evidently knew the + proper title to give a he true believer of the proudest race there is. Ali + Partab's heart began to go out to him—“an officer, I think, once of + the Rajput Horse, who very kindly carried letters for me. Perhaps you know + of some other gentleman of your race about to travel northward? He could + earn, at least, gratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “So-ho!” thought Ali Partab to himself. “I have known men of his race who + would have offered money, to be spat on!—Not now, sahib,” he + answered aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Mahommed Gunga was the officer's name. Do you know him, or know of him, + by any chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, sahib, I know him well. It is an honor.” + </p> + <p> + The Scotsman smiled. “He must be very far away by this time. How many are + there, I wonder, in India who have such things said of them when their + backs are turned?” + </p> + <p> + “More than a few, sahib! I would draw steel for the good name of more than + a hundred men whom I know, and there be many others!” + </p> + <p> + “Men of your own race?” + </p> + <p> + “And yours, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + There was no bombast in the man's voice; it was said good-naturedly, as a + man might say, “There are some friends to whom I would lend money.” No man + with any insight could mistake the truth that underlay the boast. The + Scotsman bowed. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad, indeed, to have met you. Will you sit down a little while?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib. The hour is late. I was but keeping the blood moving in this + horse of mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, tell me, since you won't stay, have you any notion who the man was + whom Mahommed Gunga sent to get my letters? My daughter handed them to him + one evening, late, at this door.” + </p> + <p> + “I am he, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—I understood—perhaps I was mistaken—I thought it + was his man who came?” + </p> + <p> + “Praised be Allah, I am his man, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I wonder whether my servants praise God for the privilege!” McClean + made the remark only half-aloud and in English. Ali Partab could not have + understood the words, but he may have caught their meaning, for he glanced + sideways at the old hag mumbling in the shadow and grinned into his beard. + “Are you in communication with him? Could you get a letter to him?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no slightest notion where he is, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “If my letters could once reach him, wherever he might be, I would feel + confident of their arriving at their destination.” + </p> + <p> + “I, too, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “I sent one letter—to a government official. It cannot have reached + him, for there should have been an answer and none has come. It had + reference to this terrible suttee business. Suttee is against the law as + well as against all dictates of reason and humanity; yet the Hindoos make + a constant practice of it here under our very eyes. These native states + are under treaty to observe the law. I intend to do all in my power to put + a stop to their ghoulish practices, and Maharajah Howrah knows what my + intentions are. It must be a Mohammedan, this time, to whom I intrust my + correspondence on suttee!” + </p> + <p> + Now, a Rangar is a man whose ancestors were Hindoos but who became + converts to Islam. Like all proselytes, they adhere more enthusiastically + to their religion than do the men whose mother creed it is; and the fact + that the Rangars originally became converts under duress is often thrown + in their teeth by the Hindoos, who gain nothing in the way of brotherly + regard in the process. A Rangar hates a Hindoo as enthusiastically as he + loves a fight. Ali Partab began to drum his fingers on his teeth and to + exhibit less impatience to be off. + </p> + <p> + “There is no knowing, sahib. I, too, am no advocate of superstitious + practices involving cruelty. I might get a letter through. My commission + from the risaldar-sahib would include all honorable matters not + obstructive to the main issue. I have certain funds—” + </p> + <p> + “I, too, have funds,” smiled the missionary. + </p> + <p> + “I am not allowed, sahib, to involve myself in any brawl until after my + business is accomplished. It would be necessary first to assure me on that + point. My honor is involved in that matter. To whom, and of what nature, + would the letter be?” + </p> + <p> + “A letter to the Company's Resident at Abu, reporting to him that Hindoo + widows are still compelled in this city to burn themselves to death above + their husbands' funeral pyres.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput grinned. “Does the Resident sahib not know it, then?” + </p> + <p> + “There will be no chance of his not knowing should my report reach him!” + </p> + <p> + “I will see, sahib, what can be done, then, in the matter. If I can find a + man, I will bring him to you.” + </p> + <p> + The missionary thanked him and stood watching as the Rajput rode away. + When the horseman's free, lean back had vanished in the inky darkness his + eyes wandered over to a point where tongues of flame licked upward, + casting a dull, dancing, crimson glow on the hot sky. Here and there, + silhouetted in the firelight, he could see the pugrees and occasional long + poles of men who prodded at the embers. Ululating through the din of + tom-toms he could catch the wails of women. He shuddered, prayed a little, + and went in. + </p> + <p> + That day even the little bazaar fosterlings, whom he had begged, and + coaxed, and taught, had all deserted to be present at the burning of three + widows. Even the lepers in the tiny hospital that he had started had + limped out for a distant view. He had watched a year's work all + disintegrating in a minute at the call of bestial, loathsome, blood-hungry + superstition. + </p> + <p> + And he was a man of iron, as Christian missionaries go. He had been + hard-bitten in his youth and trained in a hard, grim school. In the Isle + of Skye he had seen the little cabin where his mother lived pulled down to + make more room for a fifty-thousand-acre deer-forest. He had seen his + mother beg. + </p> + <p> + He had worked his way to Edinburgh, toiled at starvation wages for the + sake of leave to learn at night, burned midnight oil, and failed at the + end of it, through ill health, to pass for his degree. + </p> + <p> + He had loved as only hard-hammered men can love, and had married after a + struggle the very thought of which would have melted the courage of an + ordinary man, only to see his wife die when her child was born. And even + then, in that awful hour, he had not felt the utterness of misery such as + came to him when he saw that his work in Howrah was undone. He had given + of his best, and all his best, and it seemed that he had given it for + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Who was that man, father?” asked a very weary voice through which courage + seemed to live yet, as the tiniest suspicion of a sweet refrain still + lives through melancholy bars. + </p> + <p> + “The man who took your home letters to Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + “And—?” + </p> + <p> + “He has promised to try to find a man for me who will take my report on + this awful business to the Resident at Abu.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, listen! Listen, please!” Rosemary McClean drew a chair for him + and knelt beside him. Youth saved her face from being drawn as his, but + the heat and horror had begun to undermine youth's powers of resistance. + She looked more beautiful than ever, but no law lays down that a wraith + shall be unlovely. She had tried the personal appeal with him a hundred + times, and argument a thousand; now, she used both in a concentrated, + earnest effort to prevail over his stubborn will. Her will was as strong + as his, and yielded place to nothing but her sense of loyalty. There were + not only Rajputs, as the Rajputs knew, who could be true to a high ideal. + “I am sure that whoever that man is he must be the link between us and the + safety Mahommed Gunga spoke of. Otherwise, why does he stay behind? Native + officers who have servants take their servants with them, as a rule.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Give the word! Let us at least get in touch with safety!” + </p> + <p> + “For myself, no. For you, yes! I have been weak with you, dear. I have let + my selfish pleasure in having you near me overcome my sense of duty—that, + and my faithless fear that you would not be properly provided for. I + think, too, that I have never quite induced myself to trust natives + sufficiently—even native gentlemen. You shall go, Rosemary. You + shall go as soon as I can get word to Mahommed Gunga's man. Call that old + woman in.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, I will not go without you, and you know it! My place is with you, + and I have quite made up my mind. If you stay, I stay! My presence here + has saved your life a hundred times over. No, I don't mean just when you + were ill; I mean that they dare not lay a finger on me! They know that a + nation which respects their women would strike hard and swiftly to avenge + a woman of its own! If I were to go away and leave you they would poison + you or stab you within a day, and then hold a mock trial and hang some + innocent or other to blind the British Government. I would be a murderess + if I left you here alone! Come! Come away!” + </p> + <p> + He shook his head. “It was wrong of me to ever bring you here,” he said + sadly. “But I did not know—I would never have believed.” Then wrath + took hold of him—the awful, cold anger of the Puritan that hates + evil as a concrete thing, to be ripped apart with steel. “God's wrath + shall burst on Howrah!” he declared. “Sodom and Gomorrah were no worse! + Remember what befell them!” + </p> + <p> + “Remember Lot!” said Rosemary. “Come away!” + </p> + <p> + “Lot stayed on to the last, and tried to warn them! I will warn the + Resident! Here, give me my writing things—where are they?” + </p> + <p> + He pushed her aside, none too gently, for the fire of a Covenanter's anger + was blazing in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “There are forty thousand British soldiers standing still, and wrong—black, + shameful wrong—is being done! For a matter of gold—for fear of + the cost in filthy lucre—they refrain from hurling wrong-doers in + the dust! For the sake of dishonorable peace they leave these native + states to misgovern themselves and stink to high heaven! Will God allow + what they do? The shame and the sin is on England's head! Her statesmen + shut their eyes and cry 'Peace, peace!' where there is no peace. Her queen + sits idle on the throne while widows burn, screaming, in the flames of + superstitious priests. Men tell her, 'All is well; there is British rule + in India!' They are too busy robbing widows in the Isle of Skye to lend an + ear to the cries of India's widows! Corruption—superstition—murder—lies—black + wrong—black selfishness—all growing rank beneath the shadow of + the British rule—how long will God let that last?” + </p> + <p> + He was pacing up and down like a caged lion, not looking at Rosemary, not + speaking to her—speaking to himself, and giving rein to all the + rankling rage at wrong that wrong had nurtured in him since his boyhood. + She knelt still by the chair, her eyes following him as he raged up and + down the matted floor. She pitied him more than she did India. + </p> + <p> + When he took the one lamp at last and set it where the light would fall + above his writing pad, she left the room and went to stand at the + street-door, where the sluggish night air was a degree less stifling than + in the mud-plastered, low-ceilinged room. As she stood there, one hand on + either door-post to remind her she was living in a concrete world, not a + charred whisp swaying in the heat, a black thing rose out of the + blackness, and the toothless hag held out a bony hand and touched her. + </p> + <p> + “Is it not time yet for the word to go?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “No. No word yet, Joanna.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now, God give good going to master o' mine, + God speed him, and lead him, and nerve him; + God give him a lead of a length in the line, + And,—God let him boast that I serve him! +</pre> + <p> + THE dawn was barely breaking yet when things stirred in the little mission + house. The flea-bitten gray pony was saddled by a sleepy saice, and + brought round from his open-sided thatch stable in the rear. The violet + and mauve, that precede the aching yellow glare of day were fading; a + coppersmith began his everlasting bong-bong-bong, apparently reverberating + from every direction; the last, almost indetectable, warm whiff of night + wind moved and died away, and the monkeys in the near-by baobab chattered + it a requiem. Almost on the stroke of sunrise Rosemary McClean stepped out—settled + her sun-helmet, with a moue above the chin-strap that was wasted on + flat-bosomed, black grandmotherdom and sulky groom—and mounted. + </p> + <p> + She needed no help. The pony stood as though he knew that the hot wind + would soon dry the life out of him; and, though dark rings beneath dark + eyes betrayed the work of heat and sleepless worry on a girl who should + have graced the cool, sweet, rain-swept hills of Scotland, she had spirit + left yet and an unspent store of youth. The saice seemed more weathered + than the twenty-year-old girl, for he limped back into the smelly shelter + of the servants' quarters to cook his breakfast and mumble about dogs and + sahibs who prefer the sun. + </p> + <p> + She looked shrunk inside the riding-habit—not shrivelled, for she + sat too straight, but as though the cotton jacket had been made for a + larger woman. If she seemed tired, and if a stranger might have guessed + that her head ached until the chestnut curls were too heavy for it, she + was still supple. And, as she whipped the pony into an unwilling trot and + old mission-named Joanna broke into a jog behind, revolt—no longer + impatience, or discontent, or sorrow, but reckless rebellion—rode + with her. + </p> + <p> + It was there, plain for the world to see, in the firm lines of a little + Puritan mouth, in the angle of a high-held chin in the set of a gallant + little pair of shoulders. The pony felt it, and leaned forward to a + canter. Joanna scented, smelt, or sensed in some manner known to Eastern + old age, that purpose was afoot; this was to be no early-morning canter, + merely out and home again; there was no time, now, for the customary + tricks of corner-cutting and rest-snatching under eaves; she tucked her + head down and jogged forward in the dust, more like a dog than ever. It + was a dog's silent, striving determination to be there when the finish + came—a dog's disregard of all object or objective but his master's—but + a long-thrown stride, and a crafty, beady eye that promised more + usefulness than a dog's when called on. + </p> + <p> + The first word spoken was when Rosemary drew rein a little more than + half-way along the palace wall. + </p> + <p> + “Are you tired yet, Joanna?” + </p> + <p> + “Uh-uh!” the woman answered, shaking her head violently and pointing at + the sun that mounted every minute higher. The argument was obvious; in + less than twenty minutes the whole horizon would be shimmering again like + shaken plates of brass; wherever the other end might be, a rest would be + better there than here! Her mistress nodded, and rode on again, faster + yet; she had learned long ago that Joanna could show a dusty pair of heels + to almost anything that ran, and she had never yet known distance tire + her; it had been the thought of distance and speed combined that made her + pause and ask. + </p> + <p> + She did not stop again until they had cantered up through the awakening + bazaar, where unclean-looking merchants and their underlings rinsed out + their teeth noisily above the gutters, and the pariah dogs had started + nosing in among the muck for things unthinkable to eat. The sun had + shortened up the shadows and begun to beat down through the gaps; the + advance-guard of the shrivelling hot wind had raised foul dust eddies, and + the city was ahum when she halted at last beside the big brick arch of the + caravansary, where Mahommed Gunga's boots and spurs had caught her eye + once. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Joanna!” She leaned back from the saddle and spoke low, but with a + certain thrill. “Go in there, find me Mahommed Gunga-sahib's man, and + bring him out here!” + </p> + <p> + “And if he will not come?” The old woman seemed half-afraid to enter. + </p> + <p> + “Go in, and don't come out without him—unless you want to see me go + in by myself!” + </p> + <p> + The old woman looked at her piercingly with eyes that gleamed from amid a + bunch of wrinkles, then motioned with a skinny arm in the direction of an + awning where shade was to be had from the dangerous early sun-rays. She + made no move to enter through the arch until her mistress had taken + shelter. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later she emerged with Ali Partab, who looked sleepy, but + still more ashamed of his unmilitary dishabille. Rosemary McClean glanced + left and right—forgot about the awning and the custom which decrees + aloofness—ignored the old woman's waving arm and Ali Partab's frown, + and rode toward him eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Did Mahommed Gunga-sahib leave you here with any orders relative to me?” + she asked. + </p> + <p> + The Rajput bowed. + </p> + <p> + “Before he went away, he spoke to me of safety, and told me he would leave + a link between me and men whom I may trust.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput bowed again. Neither of them saw an elbow laid on the + window-ledge of a room above the arch; it disappeared, and very gingerly a + bared black head replaced it. Then the head too disappeared. + </p> + <p> + The girl's eyes sparkled as the reassurance came that at least one good + fighting man was waiting to do nothing but assist her. For the moment she + threw caution to the winds and remembered nothing but her plight and her + father's stubbornness. + </p> + <p> + “My father will not come away, but—” + </p> + <p> + Ali Partab's eyes betrayed no trace of concern. + </p> + <p> + “But—I thought—Are you all alone?” + </p> + <p> + “All alone, Miss-sahib, but your servant.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I thought—perhaps that”—she checked herself, then rushed + the words out as though ashamed of them—“that, if you had men to + help you, you might carry him away against his will! Where are these + others who are to be trusted?” + </p> + <p> + Ali Partab grinned and then drew himself up with a movement of polite + dissent. It was not for him to question the suggestions of a Miss-sahib; + he conveyed that much with an inimitable air. But it was his business to + keep strictly to the letter of his orders. + </p> + <p> + “Miss-sahib, I cannot do that. So said Mahommed Gunga: 'When the hag + brings word, then take three horses and bear the Miss-sahib and her father + to my cousin Alwa's place.' I stand ready to obey, but the padre-sahib + comes not against his will.” + </p> + <p> + “To whose place?” + </p> + <p> + “Alwa's, Miss-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “And who is he?” She seemed bewildered. “I had hoped to be escorted to + some British residency.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be for Alwa, should he see fit. He has men and horses, and a + fort that is impregnable. The Miss-sahib would be safe there under all + circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + “But—but, supposing I declined to accept that invitation? Supposing + I preferred not to be carried off to a—er—a Mohammedan + gentleman's fort. What then?” + </p> + <p> + “I could but wait here, Miss-sahib, until the hour came when you changed + your mind, or until Mahommed Gunga by letter or by word of mouth relieved + me of my trust.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Then you will wait here until I ask?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, Miss-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + The head again peered through the window up above them, but disappeared + below the ledge furtively, and none of the three were aware of it. For + that matter, the old woman was gazing intently at Ali Partab and listening + eagerly; he stood almost underneath the arch, and Miss McClean was staring + at him frowning with the effort to translate her thoughts into a language + that is very far from easy. They would none of them have seen the roof + descending on them. + </p> + <p> + “And—and won't you under any circumstances take us, say, to the + Resident at Abu instead?” + </p> + <p> + “I may not, Miss-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a truth I know not. I never yet knew Mahommed Gunga to give an order + without good reason for it; but beyond that he chose me, because he said + the task might prove difficult and he trusted me, I know nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you no idea of the reason?” + </p> + <p> + “Miss-sahib, I am a soldier. To me an order is an order to be carried out; + suspicions, fears are nothing unless they stand in the way of + accomplishment. I await your word. I am ready. The horses are here—good + horses—lean and hard. The order is that you must ask me.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you—er—Ali what?—thank you, Ali Partab.” The + disappointment in her voice was scarcely more noticeable than the + despondency her drooping figure showed. The little shoulders that had sat + so square and gallantly seemed to have lost their strength, and there was + none of the determined ring left in the words she hesitated for. “I—hope + you will understand that I am grateful—but—I cannot—er—see + my way just yet to—” + </p> + <p> + “In your good time, Miss-sahib. I was ordered to have patience!” + </p> + <p> + “At least I will have more confidence, knowing that you are always close + at hand.” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput bowed. She reined back. He saluted, and she bowed again; then, + with a glance to make sure that Joanna followed, she started back at + little more than a walking pace—a dejected wraith of a girl on a + dejected-looking pony, too overcome by the upsetting of her rebellious + scheme to care or even think whether Joanna dropped out of sight or not. + Ali Partab watched her down the street with a face that betrayed no + emotion and no suspicion of what his thoughts might be. When she was out + of sight he went back under the arch to attend to his three horses; and + the moment that he did so a fat but very furtive Hindoo took his place—glanced + down the street once in the direction that Rosemary had taken—and + then darted up-street as fast as his shaking paunch would let him. He had + been gone at the least ten minutes, when Joanna, also furtive, also in a + hurry, dodged here and there among the commencing surge of traffic and + approached the arch again. + </p> + <p> + It would be useless to try to read her mind, or to translate the glitter + of her beady eyes into thoughts intelligible to any but an Oriental. It + was quite clear, though, that she wished not to be noticed, that she + feared the occupants of the caravansary, and that she had returned for + word with Ali Partab. He, least of all, would have doubted her intention + of demanding the two gold mohurs, for it was she who had brought the word + that Miss McClean wanted him. But what relation that intention had to her + loyalty or treachery, or whether she were capable of either—capable + of anything except greed, and obedience for the sake of pay—were + problems no man living could have guessed. + </p> + <p> + She asked the lounging sweeper by the arch whether Ali Partab had ridden + out as yet. He jeered back outrageous improprieties, suggestive of + impossible ambition on the hag's part. She called him “sahib,” dubbed him + “father of a dozen stalwart sons,” returned a few of his immodest + compliments with a flattering laugh, and learned that Ali Partab was still + busy in the caravansary. Then she proceeded to make herself very + inconspicuous beside a two-wheeled wagon, up-ended in the gutter opposite + the arch, and waited with eastern patience for the horseman to ride out. + </p> + <p> + She saw the fat Hindoo come back, in no particular hurry now, and seat + himself not far from her. Later she saw eight horsemen ride down the + street, pass the arch, wheel, and halt. She noticed that they were not + Maharajah Howrah's men but a portion of his brother Jaimihr's body-guard, + then took no further notice of them. If they chose to wait there, it was + no affair of hers, and to appear inquisitive would be to invite a + lance-butt, very shrewdly thrust where it would hurt. + </p> + <p> + It was an hour at least before Ali Partab rode out through the arch, + looking down anxiously at his horse's off-hind that had been showing + symptoms of “brushing” lately. Joanna rose instantly to cross the street + and intercept him; and she recoiled in the nick of time to save herself + from being ridden down. + </p> + <p> + At a sign from the fat Hindoo the eight horsemen spurred, and swooped + up-street with the speed and certainty of sparrow-hawks and the noise of + devastation. They rode down Ali Partab—unhorsed him—bound him—threw + him on his horse again—and galloped off before any but the Hindoo + had time to realize that he was their objective. He was gone—snatched + like a chicken from the coop. Noise and dust were all the trace or + explanation that he left. The mazy streets swallowed him; the Hindoo + waddled over to the arch and disappeared without a smile on his face to + show even interest. The interrupted trading and bartering went on again, + and no one commented or made a move to follow but Joanna. + </p> + <p> + She watched the fat Hindoo, and made sure that she would recognize him + anywhere again. Then, by a trail that no one would have guessed at and few + could have followed, she made her way to Jaimihr's palace—three + miles away from Howrah's—where a dozen sulky-looking sepoys lolled, + dismounted, by the wooden gate. There was neither sight nor sound of + mounted men, and the gate was shut; but in the middle of the roadway there + was smoking dung, and there was a suspicion of overacting about the + indifference of the guardians of the entrance. + </p> + <p> + There was no overacting, though, in what Joanna did. Nobody would have + dreamed that she was playing any kind of part, or interested in anything + at all except the coppers that she begged for. She squatted in the + roadway, ink-black and clear-cut in the now blazing sunlight, alternately + flattering them and pretending to a knowledge of unguessed-at witchcraft. + </p> + <p> + She was there still at midday when they changed the guard. She was there + when night fell, still squatting in the roadway, still exchanging repartee + and hints at the supernatural with armed men who shuddered now and then + between their bursts of mockery. The sore, suffering dogs that sniff + through the night for worse eyesores than themselves whimpered and watched + her. The guard changed and the moon paled, but she stayed on; and whatever + her purpose, or whatever information she obtained in fragments amid the + raillery, she did not return to the mission house. + </p> + <p> + It was not until Rosemary McClean returned and dismounted by the door that + she realized Joanna had not kept pace. Even then she thought little of it; + the old woman often lingered on the homeward way when the chance of her + being needed was remote. Two or three hours passed before the suspicion + rose that anything might have happened to Joanna, and even then she might + not have been remembered had not Duncan McClean asked for her. + </p> + <p> + “I have changed my mind,” he said, calling Rosemary into the long, low + living-room. It was darkened to exclude the hot wind and the glare, and he + looked like a ghost as he rose to meet her. “I have decided that my duty + is to get away from this place for your sake and for the sake of the cause + I have at heart. We are doing no good here. I can do most by going to the + Resident, or even to somebody higher up than he, and laying my case before + him personally. Send for Joanna, and tell her to go and bring Mahommed + Gunga's man.” + </p> + <p> + It was then that they missed Joanna and began to search for her. But no + Joanna came. It was then that Rosemary McClean rehearsed with her father + her former conversation with Mahommed Gunga and part, at least, of her + recent one with Ali Partab, and the missionary started off himself to find + the horseman whom Mahommed Gunga had so thoughtfully left behind. + </p> + <p> + But he very naturally found no Ali Partab. What he did discover was that + he was followed—that a guard, unarmed but obvious, was placed around + the mission house—that his servants deserted one by one—that + no more children came to the mission school. + </p> + <p> + He decided to take chances and ride off with his daughter in the night. + But the ponies went mysteriously lame, and nobody would lend or sell him + horses on any terms at all. He did his best to get a letter through to + anywhere where there were British, but nobody would take it. And then + Jaimihr came, swaggering with his escort, to offer him and his daughter + the hospitality of his palace. + </p> + <p> + He declined that offer a little testily, for the insolence behind the + offer was less than half concealed. Jaimihr sneered as he rode away. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps a month or two of undisturbed enjoyment will induce the + padre-sahib to change his mind about my invitation!” he said nastily. And + he made no secret then, as he ordered them about before he went, that the + men who lounged and watched at every vantage-point were his. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + They looked into my eyes and laughed,— + But, what when I was gone? + Have strong men made me one of them? + Or do I ride alone? +</pre> + <p> + ON the morning after Mahommed Gunga's daring experiment with Cunningham's + nervous system he was anxious to say the least of it; and that is only + another way of saying that he was irritable. He watched the Englishman at + breakfast, on the dak-bungalow veranda, with a sideways restless glance + that gave the lie a dozen times over to his assumed air of irascible + authority. + </p> + <p> + “We will see now what we will see,” he muttered to himself. “These who + know such a lot imagine that the test is made. They forget that there be + many brave men of whom but a few are fit to lead. Now—now—we + will see!” And he kept on repeating that assurance to himself, with the + air of a man who would like to be assured, but is not, while he + ostentatiously found fault with every single thing on which his eyes lit. + </p> + <p> + “One would think that the Risaldar-sahib were afraid of consequences!” + whispered the youngest of his followers, stung to the quick by a quite + unmerited rebuke. “Does he fear that Chota-Cunnigan will beat him?” + </p> + <p> + White men have been known—often—to do stupider things than + that, and particularly young white men who have not yet learned to gauge + proportions accurately; so there was nothing really ridiculous in the + suggestion. A young white man who has had his temper worked up to the + boiling-point, his nerves deliberately racked, and then has been subjected + to the visit of a driven tiger, may be confidently expected to exhibit all + the faults of which his character is capable. + </p> + <p> + To make the situation even more ticklish, Cunningham's servant, in his + zeal for his master's comfort, had forgotten to sham sickness, and instead + of limping was in abominably active evidence. He was even doing more than + was expected of him. Ralph Cunningham had said nothing to him—had + not needed to; every single thing that a pampered sahib could imagine that + he needed was done for him in the proper order, without noise or + awkwardness, and the Risaldar cursed as he watched the clockwork-perfect + service. He had hoped for a lapse that might call forth some pointer, + either by way of irritation or amusement, as to how young Cunningham was + taking things. + </p> + <p> + But not a thing went wrong and not a sign of any sort gave Cunningham. The + youngster did not smile either to himself darkly or at his servant. He lit + his after-breakfast cigar and smoked it peacefully, as though he had spent + an absolutely normal night, without even a dream to worry him, and if he + eyed Mahommed Gunga at all, he did it so naturally, and with so little + interest, that no deductions could be drawn from it. He was neither more + nor less than a sahib at his ease—which was disconcerting, very, to + the Oriental mind. + </p> + <p> + He smoked the cigar to a finish, without a word or sign that he wished to + give audience. Then his eyes lit for the first time on the tiger-skin that + was pegged out tight, raw side upward, for the sun to sterilize; he threw + the butt of his cigar away and strolled out to examine the skin without a + sign to Mahommed Gunga, counted the claws one by one to make sure that no + superstitious native had purloined any of them, and returned to his chair + on the veranda without a word. + </p> + <p> + “Is he vindictive, then?” wondered Mahommed Gunga. “Is he a mean man? Will + he bear malice and get even with me later on? If so—” + </p> + <p> + “Present my compliments to Mahommed Gunga-sahib, and ask him to be good + enough to—” + </p> + <p> + The Risaldar heard the order, and was on his way to the veranda before the + servant started to convey the message. He took no chances on a reprimand + about his shoes, for he swaggered up in riding-boots, which no soldier can + be asked to take off before he treads on a private floor; and he saluted + as a soldier, all dignity. It was the only way by which he could be sure + to keep the muscles of his face from telling tales. + </p> + <p> + “Huzoor?” + </p> + <p> + “Morning, Mahommed Gunga. Take a seat, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + A camp-chair creaked under the descending Rajput's weight, and creaked + again as he remembered to settle himself less stiffly—less guiltily. + </p> + <p> + “I say, I'm going to ask you chaps to do me a favor. You don't mind + obliging me now and then, do you?” + </p> + <p> + The youngster leaned forward confidentially, one elbow on his knee, and + looked half-serious, as though what he had to ask were more important than + the ordinary. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, there is nothing that we will not do.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Then you won't mind my mentioning this, I'm sure. Next time you want + to kennel a tiger in my bedroom, d'you mind giving me notice in advance? + It's not the stink I mind, nor being waked up; it's the deuced awful risk + of hurting somebody. Besides—look how I spoilt that tiger's mask! + The skins I've always admired at home had been shot where it didn't show + so badly.” + </p> + <p> + There was not even the symptom of a smile on Cunningham's face. He looked + straight into Mahommed Gunga's eyes, and spoke as one man talking calm + common sense to another. He raised his hand as the Rajput began to stammer + an apology. + </p> + <p> + “No. Don't apologize. If you'll forgive me for shooting your pet tiger, + I'll overlook the rest of it. If I'd known that you kept him in there o' + nights, I'd have chosen another room, that's all—some room where I + couldn't smell him, and where I shouldn't run the risk of killing an + inoffensive man. Why, I might have shot you! Think how sorry I'd have + been!” + </p> + <p> + The Risaldar did not quite know what to say; so, wiser than most, he said + nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, and one other matter. I don't speak much of the language yet, so, + would you mind translating to my servant that the next time he goes sick + without giving me notice, and without putting oil in my lamp, I'll have + him fed to the tiger before he's brought into my room? Just tell him that + quietly, will you? Say it slowly so that it sinks in. Thanks.” + </p> + <p> + Straight-faced as Cunningham himself, the Risaldar tongue-lashed the + servant with harsh, tooth-rasping words that brought him up to attention. + Whether he interpreted or not the exact meaning of what Cunningham had + said, he at least produced the desired effect; the servant mumbled + apologetic nothings and slunk off the veranda backward—to go away + and hold his sides with laughter at the back of the dak-bungalow. There + Mahommed Gunga found him afterward and administered a thrashing—not, + as he was careful to explain, for disobedience, but for having dared to be + amused at the Risaldar's discomfiture. + </p> + <p> + But there was still one point that weighed heavily on Mahommed Gunga's + mind as the servant shuffled off and left him alone face to face with + Cunningham. There is as a very general rule not more than one man-eating + tiger in a neighborhood, and not even the greenest specimen of subaltern + new brought from home would be likely to mistake one for the other kind. + The man-eater was dead, and there was an engagement to shoot one that very + morning. He hesitated—said nothing for the moment—and wondered + whether his best course would be to go ahead and pretend to beat out the + jungle and tell some lie or other about the tiger having got away. But + Ralph Cunningham, with serious gray eyes fixed full on his, saved him the + trouble of deciding. + </p> + <p> + “If it's all one to you, Mahommed Gunga,” he said, the corner of his mouth + just flickering, “we'll move on from here at once. This is a beastly old + bungalow to sleep in, and shooting tigers don't seem so terribly exciting + to me. Besides, the climate here must be rotten for the horses.” + </p> + <p> + “As you wish, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well—if the choice rests with me, I wish it. It might—ah—save + the villagers a lot of hard work beating through the jungle, mightn't it—besides, + there'll be other tigers on the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Innumerable tigers, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Will you order a start then?” + </p> + <p> + The Risaldar departed round the corner of the bungalow, and a minute or + two later Cunningham's ears caught the sound of a riding-switch, lustily + applied, and of muffled groans. He suspected readily enough what was going + on, particularly since his servant was not in evidence, but he dared not + laugh on the veranda. He went inside, and made believe to be busy with his + bag before he relaxed the muscles of his face. + </p> + <p> + “Now, I wonder whether I handled that situation rightly?” he asked himself + between chuckles. “One thing I know—if that old ruffian plays + another trick on me—one more of any kind—Ill show my teeth. + There's a thing known as the limit!” + </p> + <p> + He would not have wondered, though, if he could have overheard Mahommed + Gunga less than an hour later. The Risaldar had stayed behind to make sure + nothing had been forgotten, and one of his men remained with him. + </p> + <p> + “There be sahibs and then sahibs,” said Mahommed Gunga. “Two kinds are the + worst—those who strike readily in anger and use bad language when + annoyed, and those whose lips are thin and who save their vengeance to be + wreaked later on. They are worse, either of them, than the sahib who is + usually drunk.” + </p> + <p> + “And Cunnigan?” + </p> + <p> + “Is altogether otherwise. As his father was, and as a few other sahibs I + have met, he understands what is not spoken—concedes dignity to him + who is caught napping, as one who having disarmed his adversary, allows + him to recover his weapon—and—” + </p> + <p> + “And?” + </p> + <p> + “Proves himself a man worth following! I myself will slit the throat of + any man I catch disparaging the name of Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur! By the + blood of God—by my medals, my own honor, and the good name of + Pukka-Cunnigan, his father, I swear it!” + </p> + <p> + “Rung Ho!” grinned the six-foot son of war who, rode beside him. + </p> + <p> + They rode on at a walk past the tombstone that—at Mahommed Gunga's + orders—the villagers had decked with sickly scented forest flowers, + and as they passed they both saluted it in silence. The fakir of the night + before, sitting not very far away from it, mimicked them. He sprang on the + stone as soon as they were out of sight, scattering the flowers all about + him, and calling down the vengeance of a hundred gods on the heads of + Christian and Mohammedan alike. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + From lone hunt came the yearling cub + And brought a grown kill back; + With fangs aglut “'Tis nothing but + Presumption!” growled the pack. +</pre> + <p> + RALPH CUNNINGHAM reached Peshawur at last with no less than nine tigers to + his gun, and that in itself would have been sufficient to damn him in the + eyes of more than half of the men who held commands there. Jealousy in + those days of slow promotion and intrenched influence had eaten into the + very understanding of men whose only excuse for rule over a conquered + people ought to have been understanding. + </p> + <p> + It was not considered decent for a boy of twenty-one to do much more than + dare to be alive. For any man at all to offer advice or information to his + senior was rank presumption. Criticism was high treason. Sport, such as + tiger-shooting, was for those whose age and apoplectic temper rendered + them least fitted for it. Conservatism reigned: “High Toryism, sir, old + port, and proud Prerogative!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga grinned into his beard at the reception that awaited the + youngster whom he had trained for months now in the belief that India had + nothing much to do except reverence him. He laughed aloud, when he could + get away to do it, at the flush of indignation on his protege's face. + Tall, lean-limbed, full of health and spirits, he had paid his duty call + on a General of Division; with the boyish enthusiasm that says so plainly, + “Laugh with me, for the world is mine!” he had boasted his good luck on + the road, only to be snubbed thoroughly and told that tiger-shooting was + not what he came for. + </p> + <p> + He took the snub like a man and made no complaint to anybody; he did not + even mention it to the other subalterns, who, most of them, made no secret + of their dissatisfaction and its hundred causes. He listened, and it was + not very long before it dawned on him that, had not Mahommed Gunga gone + with him to pay a call as well, the General Division would not have so + much as interviewed him. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga soon became the bane of his existence. The veteran seemed + in no hurry to go back to his estate that must have been in serious need + of management by this time, but would ride off on mysterious errands and + return with a dozen or more black-bearded horsemen each time. He would + introduce them to Cunningham in public whenever possible under the eyes of + outraged seniors who would swear and, fume and ride away disgust at the + reverence paid to “a mere boy, sir—a bally, ignorant young + jackanapes!” + </p> + <p> + Had Cunningham been other than a born soldier with his soldier senses all + on edge and sleepless, he would have fallen foul of disgrace within a + month. He was unattached as yet, and that fact gave opportunity to the men + who looked for it to try to “take the conceit out of the cub, by gad.” + </p> + <p> + “They “—everybody spoke of them as “they”—conceived the + brilliant idea of confronting the youngster with conditions which he + lacked experience to cope with. They set him to deal with circumstances + which had long ago proved too difficult for themselves, and awaited + confidently the outcome—the crass mistake, or oversight, or mere + misfortune that, with the aid of a possible court martial, would reduce + him to a proper state of humbleness. + </p> + <p> + Peshawur, the greatest garrison in northern India, was there on + sufferance, apparently. For lack of energetic men in authority to deal + with them, the border robbers plundered while the troops remained cooped + up within the unhealthiest station on the list. The government itself, + with several thousand troops to back it up, was paying blackmail to the + border thieves! There was not a government bungalow in all Peshawur that + did not have its “watchman,” hired from over the border, well paid to + sleep on the veranda lest his friends should come and take tribute in an + even more unseemly manner. + </p> + <p> + The younger men, whose sense of fitness had not yet been rotted by climate + and system and prerogative, swore at the condition; there were one or two + men higher up, destined to make history, whose voices, raised in emphatic + protest, were drowned in the drone of “Peace! Peace is the thing to work + for. Compromise, consideration, courtesy, these three are the keys of + rule.” They failed to realize that cowardice was their real keynote, and + that the threefold method that they vaunted was quite useless without a + stiffening of courage. + </p> + <p> + So brave men, who had more courtesy in each of their fingers than most of + the seniors had all put together, had to bow to a scandalous condition + that made England's rule a laughing-stock within a stone's throw of the + city limits. And they had to submit to the indecency of seeing a new, + inexperienced arrival picked for the task of commanding a body of + irregulars, for no other reason than because it was considered wise to + make an exhibition of him. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham became half policeman, half soldier, in charge of a small + special force of mounted men engaged for the purpose of patrol. He had + nothing to do with the selection of them; that business was attended to + perfunctorily by a man very high up in departmental service, who + considered Cunningham a nuisance. He was a gentleman who did not know + Mahommed Gunga; another thing he did not know was the comfortable feel of + work well done; so he was more than pleased when Mahommed Gunga dropped in + from nowhere in particular—paid him scandalously untrue compliments + without a blush or a smile and offered to produce the required number of + men at once. + </p> + <p> + Only fifty were required. Mahommed Gunga brought three hundred to select + from, and, when asked to do so in order to save time and trouble, picked + out the fifty best. + </p> + <p> + “There are your men!” said the Personage off-handedly, when they had been + sworn in in a group. “Be good enough to remember, Mr. Cunningham, that you + are now responsible for their behavior, and for the proper night + patrolling of the city limits.” + </p> + <p> + That was a tall order, and in spite of all of youth's enthusiasm was + enough to make any young fellow nervous. But Mahommed Gunga met him in the + street, saluted him with almost sacrilegious ceremony, and drew him to one + side. + </p> + <p> + “Have courage, now, bahadur! I ride away to visit my estates (he spoke of + them always in the plural, as though he owned a county or two). You have + under you the best eyes and the keenest blades along the border for I + attended to it! Be ruthless! Use them, work them—sweat them to + death! Keep away from messes and parades; seek no praise, for you will get + none in any case! Work! Work for what is coming!” + </p> + <p> + “You speak as though the fate of a continent were hanging in the balance,” + laughed Cunningham, shaking hands with him. + </p> + <p> + “I speak truth!” said Mahommed Gunga, riding off and leaving the youngster + wondering. + </p> + <p> + Now, there was nothing much the matter with the men on either side, taken + in the main, who hated one another on that far-pushed frontier. Even the + insufferable incompetents who held the rotting reins of control were such + because circumstance had blinded them. There was not a man among the + highly placed ones even who would have deliberately placed his own + importance or his own opinion in the scale against India's welfare. There + was not a border thief but was ready to respect what he could recognize as + strong-armed justice. + </p> + <p> + The root of the trouble lay in centralization of authority, and rigid + adherence to the rule of seniority. Combined, these two processes had + served to bring about a state of things that is nearly unbelievable when + viewed in the light of modern love for efficiency. Young men, with the + fire of ambition burning in them and a proper scorn for mere superficial + ceremony, had to sweat their tempers and bow down beneath the yoke of + senile pompousness. + </p> + <p> + Strong, savage, powder-weaned Hill-tribesmen—inheritors of egoistic + independence and a love of loot—laughed loud and long and openly at + System that prevented officers from taking arms against them until + authority could come by delegate from somebody who slept. By that time + they would be across the border, quarrelling among themselves about + division of the plunder! + </p> + <p> + They had respect in plenty for the youth and virile middle age that dealt + with them on the rare occasions when a timely blow was loosed. Then they + had proof that from that strange, mad country overseas there came men who + could lead men—men who could strike, and who knew enough to hold + their hands when the sudden blow had told—just men, who could keep + their plighted word. No border thief pretended that the British could not + rule him; to a man, they laughed because the possible was not imposed. And + to the last bold, ruffianly iconoclast they stole when, where, and what + they dared. + </p> + <p> + Things altered strangely soon after Ralph Cunningham, with the diffidence + of youth but the blood of a line of soldiers leaping in him, took charge + of his tiny force of nondescripts. They were neither soldiers nor police. + Nominally, he was everybody's dog, and so were they; actually he found + himself at the head of a tiny department of his own, because it was + nobody's affair to give him orders. They had deliberately turned him loose + “to hang himself,” and their hope that he might get his head into a noose + of trouble as soon as possible—the very liberty they gave him, on + purpose for his quick damnation—was the means of making reputation + for him. + </p> + <p> + Nobody advised him; so with singularly British phlegm and not more than + ordinary common sense he devised a method of his own for scotching + night-prowlers. He stationed his men at well-considered vantage-points, + and trusted them. With a party of ten, he patrolled the city ceaselessly + himself and whipped every “watchman” he caught sleeping. One by one, the + blackmailing brigade began to see the discomfort of a job that called for + real wakefulness, and deserted over the Hills to urge the resumption of + raids in force. One by one, the night-prowling fraternity were shot as + they sneaked past sentries. One by one, the tale of robberies diminished. + It was merely a question of one man, and he awake, having power to act + without first submitting a request to somebody in triplicate on blue-form + B. + </p> + <p> + The time came, after a month or two, when even natives dared to leave + their houses after dark. The time came very soon, indeed, when the nearest + tribes began to hold war councils and inveigh against the falling off of + the supply of plunder. Cunningham was complimented openly. He was even + praised by one of “Them.” So it was perfectly natural, and quite in + keeping with tradition, that he should shortly be relieved, and that a + senior to him should be placed in charge of his little force, with orders + to “organize” it. + </p> + <p> + The organization process lasted about twelve hours; at the end of that + time every single man had deserted, horse and arms! Two nights later, the + prowling and plundering was once more in full swing, and Cunningham was + blamed for it; it was obvious to any man of curry-and-port-wine + proclivities that his method, or lack of it, had completely undermined his + men's loyalty! + </p> + <p> + A whole committee of gray-headed gentlemen took trouble to point out to + him his utter failure; but a brigadier, who was not a member of that + committee, and who was considered something of an upstart, asked that he + might be appointed to a troop of irregular cavalry that had recently been + raised. With glee—with a sigh of relief so heartfelt and unanimous + that it could be heard across the street—the committee leaped at the + suggestion. The proper person was induced without difficulty to put his + signature to the required paper, and Cunningham found himself transferred + to irregular oblivion. Incidentally he found himself commanding few less + than a hundred men, so many of whose first names were Mahommed or Mohammed + that the muster-roll looked like a list of Allah's prophets. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham was more than a little bit astonished, on the day he joined, in + camp, a long way from Peshawur, to find his friend Mahommed Gunga, seated + in a bell tent with the Brigadier. He caught sight of the long black + military boot and silver spur, and half-recognized the up-and-down + movement of the crossed leg long before he reached the tent. It was like + father and son meeting, almost, as the Rajput rose to greet him and waited + respectfully until he had paid his compliments to his new commander. + Cunningham felt throat-bound, and could scarcely more than stammer his + introduction of himself. + </p> + <p> + “I know who you are and all about you,” said the Brigadier. “Used to know + your father well. I applied to have you in my command partly for your + father's sake, but principally because Risaldar Mahommed Gunga spake so + highly of you. He tells me he has had an eye on you from the start, and + that you shape well. Remember, this is irregular cavalry, and in many + respects quite unlike regulars. You'll need tact and a firm hand combined, + and you mustn't ever forget that the men whom you will lead are + gentlemen.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham reported to his Colonel, only to discover that he, too, knew + all about him. The Colonel was less inclined to be restricted as to topic, + and less mindful of discretion than the Brigadier. + </p> + <p> + “I hear they couldn't stand you in Peshawur. That's hopeful! If you'd come + with a recommendation from that quarter, I'd have packed you off back + again. I never in my life would have believed that a dozen men could all + shut their eyes so tightly to the signs—never!” + </p> + <p> + “The signs, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the signs! Come and look your troop over.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham found that the troop, too, had heard about his coming. He did + not look them over. When he reached the lines, they came out in a swarm—passed + him one by one, eyed him, as traders eye a horse—and then saluted + him a second time, with the greeting: + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! You're in disgrace!” said his Colonel, noticing the color rising to + the youngster's cheeks. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sons of the sons of war we be, + Sabred and horsed, and whole and free; + One is the caste, and one degree,— + One law,—one code decreed us. + Who heads wolves in the dawning day? + Who leaps in when the bull's at bay? + He who dare is he who may! + Now, rede ye who shall lead us! +</pre> + <p> + THE check that Ralph Cunningham's management of his police had caused, and + the subsequent resumption of night looting, served to whet the appetites + of the hungry crowd beyond the border. Those closest to Peshawur, who had + always done the looting, were not the ultimate consignees by any means; + there were other tribes who bought from them—others yet to whom they + paid tribute in the shape of stolen rifles. Cunningham's administration + had upset the whole modus vivendi of the lower Himalayas! + </p> + <p> + Though it all began again the moment he was superseded, there had been, + none the less, a three-month interregnum, and that had to be compensated + for. The tribes at the rear were clamorous and would not listen to + argument or explanation; they had collected in hundreds, led by the + notorious Khumel Khan, preparatory to raiding in real earnest and with + sufficient force to carry all before them at the first surprise attack. + </p> + <p> + They were disappointed when the pilfering resumed, for a tribal Hillman + would generally rather fight than eat, and would always prefer his dinner + from a dead enemy's cooking-pot. They sat about for a long time, + considering whether there were not excuse enough for war in any case and + listening to the intricately detailed information brought by the deserting + watchmen. And as they discussed things, but before they had time to decide + on any plan, the Brigadier commanding the Irregulars got wind of them. + </p> + <p> + He was a man who did not worry about the feelings of senile heads of + red-tape-bound departments; nor was he particularly hidebound by respect + for the laws of evidence. When he knew a thing, he knew it; then he either + acted or did not act, as the circumstances might dictate. And when the + deed was done or left undone, and was quite beyond the reach of criticism, + he would send in a verbose, voluminous report, written out in several + colored inks, on all the special forms he could get hold of. The heads of + departments would be too busy for the next twelvemonth trying to get the + form of the report straightened out to be able to give any attention to + the details of it; and then it would be too late. But he was a brigadier, + and what he could do with impunity and quiet amusement would have brought + down the whole Anglo-Indian Government in awful wrath on the head of a + subordinate. + </p> + <p> + He heard of the tribesmen under Khumel Khan one evening. At dawn his tents + stood empty and the horse-lines were long bands of brown on the green + grass. The pegs were up; only the burying beetles labored where the + stamping chargers had neighed overnight. + </p> + <p> + The hunger-making wind that sweeps down, snow-sweetened, from the + Himalayas bore with it intermittent thunder from four thousand hoofs as, + split in three and swooping from three different directions, the squadrons + viewed, gave tongue, and launched themselves, roaring, at the + half-awakened plotters of the night before. + </p> + <p> + There was a battle, of a kind, in a bowlder-lined valley where the early + morning sun had not yet reached to lift the chill. Long lances—devils' + antennae—searched out the crevices where rock-bred mountain-men + sought cover; too suddenly for clumsy-fingered Hillmen to reload, the + reformed troops charged wedgewise into rallying detachments. In an hour, + or less, there were prisoners being herded like cattle in the valley + bottom, and a sting had been drawn from the border wasp that would not + grow again for a year or two to come. + </p> + <p> + But Khumel Khan was missing. Khumel Khan, the tulwar man—he whose + boast it was that he could hew through two men's necks at one whistling + sweep of his notched, curved cimeter—had broken through with a dozen + at his back. He had burst through the half-troop guarding the upper end of + the defile, had left them red and reeling to count their dead, and the + overfolding hill-spurs swallowed him. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cunningham! Take your troop, please, and find their chief! Hunt him + out, ride him down, and get him! Don't come back until you do!” + </p> + <p> + The real thing! The real red thing within a year! A lone command—and + that is the only thing a subaltern of spunk may pray for!—eighty-and-eight + hawk-eyed troopers asking only for the opportunity to show their worth—lean, + hungry hills to hunt in, no commissariat, fair law to the quarry, and a + fight—as sure as God made mountains, a fight at the other end! There + are men here and there who think that the day when they pass down a + crowded aisle with Her is the great one, other great days are all as + gas-jets to the sun. And there are others. There are men, like Cunningham, + who have heard the drumming of the hoofs behind them as they led their + first un-apron-stringed unit out into the unknown. The one kind of man has + tasted honey, but the other knows what fed, and feeds, the roaring + sportsmen in Valhalla. + </p> + <p> + There were crisscross trails, where low-hung clouds swept curtainwise to + make the compass seem like a lie-begotten trick. There were gorges, hewn + when the Titans needed dirt to build the awful Himalayas—shadow-darkened—sheer + as the edge of Nemesis. Long-reaching, pile on pile, the over-lapping + spurs leaned over them. The wind blew through them amid silence that + swallowed and made nothing of the din which rides with armed men. + </p> + <p> + But, with eyes that were made for hunting, on horses that seemed part of + them, they tracked and trailed—and viewed at last. Their shout gave + Khumel Khan his notice that the price of a hundred murders was overdue, + and he chose to make payment where a V-shaped cliff enclosed a small, flat + plateau and not more than a dozen could ride at him at a time. His + companions scattered much as a charge of shrapnel shrieks through the + rocks, but Khumel Khan knew well enough that he was the quarry—his + was the head that by no conceivable chance would be allowed to plan fresh + villainies. He might have run yet a little way, but he saw the + uselessness, and stood. + </p> + <p> + The troop, lined out knee to knee, could come within a hundred paces of + him without breaking; it formed a base, then, to a triangle from which the + man at bay could no more escape than a fire-ringed scorpion. + </p> + <p> + “Call on him to surrender!” ordered Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + A chevroned black-beard half a horse-length behind him translated the + demand into stately Pashtu, and for answer the hill chieftain mounted his + stolen horse and shook his tulwar. He had pistols at his belt, but he did + not draw them; across his shoulder swung a five-foot-long jezail, but he + loosed it and flung it to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Is there any here dare take me single-handed?” he demanded with a grin. + </p> + <p> + Of the eight-and-eighty, there were eighty-eight who dared; but there was + an eighty-ninth, a lad of not yet twenty-two, whom Indian chivalry desired + to honor. The troop had heard but the troop had not yet seen. + </p> + <p> + “Ride in and take him!” ordered Cunningham and there was a thoroughly well + acted make-believe of fear, while every eye watched “Cunnigan-bahadur,” + and the horses, spurred and reined at once, pranced at their bits for just + so long as a good man needs to make his mind up. And Cunningham rode in. + </p> + <p> + He rode in as a Rajput rides, with a swoop and a swinging sabre and a + silent, tight-lipped vow that he would prove himself. Green though he was + yet, he knew that the troop had found for him—had rounded up for him—had + made him his opportunity; so he took it, right under their eyes, straight + in the teeth of the stoutest tulwar man of the lower Himalayas. + </p> + <p> + He, too, had pistols at his belt, but there was no shot fired. There was + nothing but a spur-loosed rush and a shock—a spark-lit, swirling, + slashing, stamping, snorting melee—a stallion and a mare up-ended—two + strips of lightning steel that slit the wind—and a thud, as a + lifeless border robber took the turf. + </p> + <p> + There was silence then—the grim, good silence of Mohammedan approval—while + a native officer closed up a sword-cut with his fingers and tore ten-yard + strips from his own turban to bind the youngster's head. They rode back + without boast or noise and camped without advertisement. There was no + demonstration made; only-a colonel said, “I like things done that way, + quickly, without fuss,” and a brigadier remarked, “Hrrrumph! 'Gratulate + you, Mr. Cunningham!” + </p> + <p> + Later, when they camped again outside Peshawur, a reward of three thousand + rupees that had been offered on the border outlaw's head was paid to + Cunningham in person—a very appreciable sum to a subaltern, whose + pay is barely sufficient for his mess bills. So, although no public + comment was made on the matter, it was considered “decent of him” to + contribute the whole amount to a pension fund for the dependents of the + regiment's dead. + </p> + <p> + “You know, that's your money,” said his Colonel. “You can keep every anna + of it if you choose.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I needn't be an officer unless I choose?” suggested Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, youngster! I can't guess what your troop would do if you + tried to desert it!” + </p> + <p> + That was, of course, merely a diplomatic recognition of the fact that + Cunningham had done his duty in making his men like him, and was not + intended seriously. Nobody—not even the Brigadier—had any + notion that the troop would very shortly have to dispense with its + leader's services whether it wanted to or not. + </p> + <p> + But it so happened that one troop at a time was requisitioned to be + ornamental body-guard to such as were entitled to one in the frontier + city; and the turn arrived when Cunningham was sent. None liked the duty. + No soldier, and particularly no irregular, likes to consider himself a + pipe-clayed ornament; but Cunningham would have “gone sick” had he had the + least idea of what was in store for him. + </p> + <p> + It was bad enough to be obliged to act as body-guard to men who had + jockeyed him away because they were jealous of him. The white scar that + ran now like a chin-strap mark from the corner of his eye to the angle of + his jaw would blaze red often at some deliberately thought-out, not + fancied, insult from men who should have been too big to more than notice + him. And that, again, was nothing to the climax. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga chose to polish up his silver spurs and ride in from his + “estates” on a protracted visit to Peshawur, and with an escort that must + have included half the zemindars on the countryside as well as his own + small retinue. Glittering on his own account like a regiment of horse, and + with all but a regiment clattering behind him, he chose the occasion to + meet Cunningham when the youngster was fuming with impatience opposite the + club veranda, waiting to escort a general. + </p> + <p> + On the veranda sat a dozen men who had been at considerable pains to put + and keep the officer of the escort in his place. If the jingle and glitter + of the approaching cavalcade had not been sufficient to attract their + notice, they could have stopped their cars and yet have been forced to + hear the greeting. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! Salaam sahib! Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur, bohut salaam! Thy father's + son! Sahib, I am much honored!” + </p> + <p> + The white scar blazed, but Mahommed Gunga affected not to notice the + discomfort of his victim. Many more than a hundred sabred gentlemen + pressed round to “do themselves the honor,” as they expressed it, of + paying Cunningham a compliment. They rode up like knights in armor in the + lists, and saluted like heralds bringing tribute and allegiance. + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, Chota-Cunnigan!” + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Bohut salaam, bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + The Generals, the High-Court judges, and Commissioners on the club veranda + sat unhonored, while a boy of twenty-two received obeisance from men whose + respect a king might envy. No Rajput ever lived who was not sure that his + salute was worth more than tribute; he can be polite on all occasions, and + what he thinks mere politeness would be considered overacting in the West, + but his respect and his salute he keeps for his equals or his betters—and + they must be men indeed. + </p> + <p> + The coterie of high officials sat indignation-bound for ten palpitating + minutes, until the General remembered that it was his escort that was + waiting for him. He had ordered it an hour too soon, for the express sweet + purpose of keeping Cunningham waiting in the sun, but it dawned now on his + apoplectic consciousness that his engagement was most urgent. He descended + in a pompous hurry, mounted and demanded why—by all the gods of + India—the escort was not lined up to receive him. A minute later, + after a loudly administered reprimand that was meant as much for the swarm + of Rajputs as for the indignant Cunningham, he rode off with the escort + clattering behind him. + </p> + <p> + But on the club veranda, when the Rajputs with Mahommed Gunga had + dispersed, the big wigs sat and talked the matter over very thoroughly. + </p> + <p> + “It's no use blinking matters,” said the senior man present, using a huge + handkerchief to wave the flies away from the polished dome which rose + between two side wisps of gray hair. “They're going to lionize him while + he's here, so we'd better move him on.” + </p> + <p> + “But where?” + </p> + <p> + “I've got it! There's a letter in from Everton at Abu, saying he needs a + man badly to go to Howrah and act resident there—says he hasn't + heard from the missionaries and isn't satisfied—wants a man without + too much authority to go there and keep an eye on things in general. + Howrah's a hell of a place from all accounts.” + </p> + <p> + “But that 'ud be promotion!” + </p> + <p> + “Can't be helped. No excuse for reducing him, so far as I've heard. The + trouble is the cub has done too dashed well. We've got to promote him if + we want to be rid of him.” + </p> + <p> + They talked it over for an hour, and at the end of it decided Cunningham + should go to Howrah, provided a brigadier could be induced without too + much argument to see reason. + </p> + <p> + “The Brigadier probably wants to keep him, and his Colonel will raise all + the different kinds of Cain there are!” suggested the man who had begun + the discussion. + </p> + <p> + “I've seen brigadiers before now reduced to a proper sense of their own + unimportance!” remarked another man. And he was connected with the + Treasury. He knew. + </p> + <p> + But a week later, when the papers were sent to the Brigadier for + signature, he amazed everybody by consenting without the least objection. + Nobody but he knew who his visitor had been the night before. + </p> + <p> + “How did you know about it, Mahommed Gunga?” he demanded, as the veteran + sat and faced him over the tent candle, his one lean leg swaying up and + down, as usual, above the other. + </p> + <p> + “Have club servants not got ears, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “And you—?” + </p> + <p> + “I, too, have ears—good ones!” + </p> + <p> + The Brigadier drummed his fingers on the table, hesitating. No officer, + however high up in the service, likes to lose even a subaltern from his + command when that subaltern is worth his salt. + </p> + <p> + “Let him go, sahib! You have seen how we Rangars honor him—you may + guess what difference he might make in a crisis. Sign, sahib—let him + go!” + </p> + <p> + “But—where do you come in? What have you had to do with this?” + </p> + <p> + “First, sahib, I tested him thoroughly. I found him good. Second, I told + tales about him, making him out better than even he is. Third, I made sure + that all those in authority at Peshawur should hate him. That would have + been impossible if he had been a fool, or a weak man, or an incompetent; + but any good man can be hated easily. Fourth, sahib, I sent, by the hand + of a man of mine, a message to Everton-sahib at Abu reporting to him that + it was not in Howrah as it should be, and warning him that a sahib should + be sent there. I knew that he would listen to a hint from me, and I knew + that he had no one in his office whom he could send. Then, sahib, I + brought matters to a head by bringing every man of merit whom I could + raise to salute him and make an outrageous exhibition of him. That is what + I have done!” + </p> + <p> + “One would think you were scheming for a throne, Mahommed Gunga!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib, I am scheming for the peace of India! But there will be war + first.” + </p> + <p> + “I know there will be war,” said the Brigadier. “I only wish I could make + the other sahibs realize it.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you sign the paper, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I will sign the paper. But—” + </p> + <p> + “But what, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not quite certain that I'm doing right.” + </p> + <p> + “Brigadier-sahib, when the hour comes—and that is soon—it will + be time to answer that! There lie the papers.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Even in darkness lime and sand + Will blend to make up mortar. + Two by two would equal four + Under a bucket of water. +</pre> + <p> + NOW it may seem unimaginable that two Europeans could be cooped in Howrah, + not under physical restraint, and yet not able to communicate with any one + who could render them assistance. It was the case, though, and not by any + means an isolated case. The policy of the British Government, once + established in India, was and always has been not to occupy an inch of + extra territory until compelled by circumstances. + </p> + <p> + The native states, then, while forbidden to contract alliances with one + another or the world outside, and obliged by the letter of written + treaties to observe certain fundamental laws imposed on them by the + Anglo-Indian Government, were left at liberty to govern themselves. And it + was largely the fact that they could and did keep secret what was going on + within their borders that enabled the so-called Sepoy Rebellion to get + such a smouldering foothold before it burst into a blaze. The sepoys were + the tools of the men behind the movement; and the men behind were priests + and others who were feeling nothing but their own ambition. + </p> + <p> + No man knows even now how long the fire rebellion had been burning + underground before showed through the surface; but it is quite obvious + that, in spite of the heroism shown by British and loyal native alike when + the crash did come, the rebels must have won—and have won easily + sheer weight of numbers—had they only used the amazing system solely + for the broad, comprehensive purpose for which it was devised. + </p> + <p> + But the sense of power that its ramifications and extent gave birth to + also whetted the desires individuals. Each man of any influence at all + began to scheme to use the system for the furtherance of his individual + ambition. Instead of bending all their energy and craft to the one great + object of hurling an unloved conqueror back whence he came, each reigning + prince strove to scheme himself head and shoulders above the rest; and + each man who wanted to be prince began to plot harder than ever to be one. + </p> + <p> + So in Howrah the Maharajah's brother, Jaimihr, with a large following and + organization of his own, began to use the secret system of which he by + right formed an integral part and to set wheels working within the wheels + which in course of time should spew him up on the ledge which his brother + now occupied. Long before the rebellion was ready he had all his + preparations made and waited only for the general conflagration to strike + for his own hand. And was so certain of success that he dared make plans + as well for Rosemary McClean's fate. + </p> + <p> + There is a blindness, too, quite unexplainable that comes over whole + nations sometimes. It is almost like a plague in its mysterious arrival + and departure. As before the French Revolution there were almost none of + the ruling classes who could read the writing on the wall, so it was in + India in the spring of '57. Men saw the signs and could not read their + meaning. As in France, so in India, there were a few who understood, but + they were scoffed at; the rest—the vast majority who held the reins + of power—were blind. + </p> + <p> + Rosemary McClean discovered that her pony had gone lame, and was angry + with the groom. The groom ran away, and she put that down to native + senselessness. Duncan McClean sent one after another of the little native + children to find him a man who would take a letter to Mount Abu. The + children went and did not come back again, and he put that down to the + devil, who would seem to have reclaimed them. + </p> + <p> + Both of them saw the watchers, posted at every vantage-point, insolently + wakeful; both of them knew that Jaimihr had placed them there. But neither + of them looked one inch deeper than the surface, nor supposed that their + presence betokened anything but the prince's unreachable ambition. Neither + of them thought for an instant that the day could possibly have come when + Britain would be unable to protect a woman of its own race, or when a + native—however powerful—would dare to do more than threaten. + </p> + <p> + Joanna disappeared, and that led to a chain of thought which was not + creditable to any one concerned. They reasoned this way: Rosemary had seen + Mahommed Gunga hold out a handful of gold coins for the old woman's eyes + to glitter at, therefore it was fair to presume that he had promised her a + reward for bringing word to the man whom, it was now known, he had left + behind. She had brought word to him and had disappeared. What more obvious + than to reason that the man had gladly paid her, and had just as gladly + ridden off, rejoicing at the thought that he could escape doing service? + </p> + <p> + “So much,” they argued, “for native constancy! So much for Mahommed + Gunga's boast that he knew of men who could be trusted! And so much for + Joanna's gratitude!” + </p> + <p> + The old woman had been saved by Rosemary McClean from the long-drawn-out + hell that is the life portion of most Indian widows, even of low caste; + she had had little to do, ever, beyond snooze in the shade and eat, and + run sometimes behind the pony—a task which came as easily to her as + did the other less active parts of her employment. Her desertion, + particularly at a crisis, made Rosemary McClean cry, and set her father to + quoting Shakespeare's “King Lear.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Blow, blow, thou winter wind! + Thou art not so unkind + As man's ingratitude!” + </pre> + <p> + All Scotsmen seem to have a natural proclivity for quoting the appropriate + dirge when sorrow shows itself. The Book of Lamentations—Shakespeare's + sadder lines—roll off their tongues majestically and seem to give + them consolation—as it were to lay a sound, unjoyous basis for the + proper enjoyment of the songs of Robbie Burns. + </p> + <p> + The poor old king of the poet's imagining, declaiming up above the cliffs + of Dover, could have put no more pathos into those immortal lines than did + Duncan McClean as he paced up and down between the hot wars of the + darkened room. The dry air parched his throat, and his ambition seemed to + shrivel in him as he saw the brave little woman who was all he had sobbing + with her head between her hands. + </p> + <p> + He turned to the Bible, but he could find no precedent in any of its pages + for abandoning a quest like his in the teeth of disaster or adversity. He + read it for hour after crackling hour, moistening his throat from time to + time with warm, unappetizing water from the improvised jar filter; but + when the oven blast that makes the Indian summer day a hell on earth had + waned and died away, he had found nothing but admonishment to stand firm. + There had been women, too, whose deeds were worthy of record in that book, + and he found no argument for deserting his post on his daughter's account + either. In the Bible account, as he read it, it had always been the devil + who fled when things got too uncomfortable for him, and he was conscious + of a tight-lipped, stern contempt for the devil. + </p> + <p> + He had about made up his mind what line to take with his daughter, when + she ceased her sobbing and looked up through swollen eyes to relieve him + of the necessity for talking her over to his point view. What she said + amazed him, but not be cause it came to him as a new idea. She said, in + different words, exactly what was passing in his own mind, and it was as + though her tears and his search of the Scriptures had brought them both to + one clear-cut conclusion. + </p> + <p> + “Why are we here, father?” she asked him suddenly; and because she took + him by surprise he did not answer her at once. “We are here to do good + aren't we?” That was no question; it was beginning of a line of argument. + Her father held his tongue, and laid his Bible down, and listened on. “How + much good have we done yet?” + </p> + <p> + She paused, but the pause was rhetorical, and he knew it; he could see the + light behind her eyes that was more than visionary; it was the light of + practical Scots enthusiasm, unquenched and undiscouraged after a battle + with fear itself. She began to be beautiful again as the spirit of + unconquerable courage won its way. + </p> + <p> + “Have we won one convert? Is there one, of those you have taught who is + with us still?” + </p> + <p> + The answer was self-evident. There was none. But there was no sting for + him in what she asked. Rather her words came as a relief, for he could + feel the strength behind them. He still said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Have we stopped one single suttee? Have we once, in any least degree, + lessened the sufferings of one of those poor widows?” + </p> + <p> + “Not once,” he answered her, without a trace of shame. He knew, and she + knew, how hard the two of them had tried. There was nothing to apologize + for. + </p> + <p> + “Have we undermined the power of the Hindoo priests? Have we removed one + trace of superstition?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” he said quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Have we given up the fight?” + </p> + <p> + He looked hard at her. Gray eyes under gray brows met gray eyes that shone + from under dark, wet lashes, and deep spoke unto deep. Scotsman recognized + Scotswoman, and the bond between them tightened. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me”—there was a new thrill in her voice—“that + here is our opportunity! Either Jaimihr wants to frighten us away or he is + in earnest with his impudent attentions to me. In either case let us make + no attempt to go away. Let us refuse to go away. Let us stay here at all + costs. If he wishes us to go away, then he must have a reason and will + show it, or else try to force us. If he is really trying to make love to + me, then let him try; if he has pluck enough, let him seize me. In either + case we shall force his hand. I am willing to be the bait. The moment that + he harms either you or me, the government will have to interfere. If he + kills us so much the better, for that would mean swift vengeance and a + British occupation. That would stop suttee for all time, and we would have + given our lives for something worth while. As we are, we cannot + communicate with our government, and Jaimihr thinks he has us in his + grasp. Let him think it! Let him go ahead! Sooner or later the government + must find out that we are missing Then—!” Her eyes blazed at the + thought of what would happen then. + </p> + <p> + Her father looked at her for about a minute, sadness and pride in her + fighting in him for the mastery. Then he rose and crossed the little space + between them. + </p> + <p> + “Lassie!” he said. “Lassie!” + </p> + <p> + She took his hand—the one little touch of human sentiment lacking to + disturb his emotional balance. The Scots will talk readily enough of + sorrow, but at showing it they are a grudging race of men. Unless a + Scotsman thinks he can gain something for his cause by showing what + emotion racks him, he will swallow down the choking flood of grief, and + keep a straight face to the world and his own as well. Duncan McClean + turned from her—drew his hand away—and walked to open the slit + shutters. A moment later he came back, once more master of himself. + </p> + <p> + “As things are, dear,” he said gently, “how would it be possible for us to + get away?” + </p> + <p> + “'We canna gang awa'!” she quoted, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “NO, lassie. We must stay here and be brave. This matter is not in our + hands. We must wait, and watch, and see. If opportunity should come to us + to make our escape, we will seize it. Should it not come—should + Jaimihr, or some other of them, make occasion to molest us—it may be—it + might be that—surely the day of martyrs is not past—it might + be that—well, well, in either case we will eventually win. Should + they kill us, the government must send here to avenge us; should we get + away, surely our report will be listened to. A month or two—perhaps + only a week or two—even a day or two, who knows?—and the last + suttee will have been performed!” + </p> + <p> + He stood and stroked her head—then stooped and kissed it—an + unusual betrayal of emotion from him. + </p> + <p> + “Ye're a brave lassie,” he said, leaving the room hurriedly, to escape the + shame of letting her see tears welling from his eyes—salt tears that + scalded as they broke their hot-wind-wearied bounds. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later she arose, dry-eyed, and went to stand in the doorway, + where an eddy or two of lukewarm evening breeze might possibly be + stirring. But a dirtily clad Hindoo, lounging on a raised, railless store + veranda opposite, leered at her impudently, and she came inside again—to + pass the evening and the sultry, black, breathless night out of sight, at + least, of the brutes who shut her off from even exercise. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + So, I am a dog? Hence I must come + To do thy bidding faster? + Must tell thee—Nay, a dog stays dumb! + A dog obeys one master! +</pre> + <p> + NOT many yards from where the restless elephants stood lined under big + brick arches—in an age-old courtyard, three sides of which were + stone-carved splendor and the fourth a typically Eastern mess of stables, + servants' quarters, litter, stink, and noisy confusion—a stone door, + slab-hewn, gave back the aching glitter of the sun. Its only opening—a + narrow slit quite near the top—was barred. A man—his face + close-pressed against them—peered through the interwoven iron rods + from within. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr, in a rose-pink pugree still, but not at all the swaggering + cavalier who pranced, high-booted, through the streets—a + down-at-heel prince, looking slovenly and heavy-eyed from too much opium—sat + in a long chair under the cloister which faced the barred stone door. He + swished with a rhino riding-whip at the stone column beside him, and the + much-swathed individual of the plethoric paunch who stood and spoke with + him kept a very leery eye on it; he seemed to expect the binding swish of + it across his own shins, and the thought seemed tantalizing. + </p> + <p> + “It is not to be done,” said Jaimihr, speaking in a dialect peculiar to + Howrah. “That—of all the idiotic notions I have listened to—is + the least worth while! Thy brains are in thy belly and are lost amid the + fat! If my brother Howrah only had such counsellors as thou—such + monkey folk to make his plans for him—the jackals would have + finished with him long ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, did I not bring word, and overhear, and trap the man?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly! Overheard whisperings, and trapped me a hyena I must feed! Now + thou sayest, 'Torture him!' He is a Rangar, and of good stock; therefore, + no amount of torturing will make him speak. He is that pig Mahommed + Gunga's man; therefore, there' is nothing more sure than that Mahommed + Gunga will be here, sooner or later, to look for him—Mahommed Gunga, + with the half of a Hindoo name, the whole of a Moslem's fire, and the + blind friendship of the British to rely on!” + </p> + <p> + “But if the man be dead when Mahommed Gunga comes?” + </p> + <p> + “He will be dead when Mahommed Gunga comes, if only what we await has + first happened. But this rising that is planned hangs fire. Were I + Maharajah I would like to see the Rangar who dare flout me or ask + questions! I would like but to set eyes on that Rangar once! But I am not + yet Maharajah; I am a prince—a younger brother—surrounded, + counselled, impeded, hampered, rendered laughable by fat idiots!” + </p> + <p> + “My belly but shows your highness's generosity. At whose cost have I grown + fat?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, at whose cost? I should have kept thee slim, on prison diet, and + saved myself a world of useless problems! Cease prattling! Get away from + me! If I have to poison this Ali Partab, or wring his casteless neck, I + will make thee do it, and give thee to Mahommed Gunga to wreak vengeance + on. Leave me to think!” + </p> + <p> + The fat former occupant of the room above the arch of the caravansary + waddled to the far end of the cloister, and sat down, cross-legged, to + grumble to himself and scratch his paunch at intervals. His master, + low-browed and irritable, continued to strike the stone column with his + cane. He was in a horrid quandary. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga was one of many men he did not want, for the present, to + offend seriously. Given a fair cause for quarrel, that irascible + ex-Risaldar was capable of going to any lengths, and was known, moreover, + to be trusted by the British. Nobody seemed to know whether or not + Mahommed Gunga reciprocated the British regard, and nobody had cared to + ask him except his own intimates; and they, like he, were men of close + counsel. + </p> + <p> + The Prince had given no orders for the capture of Ali Partab; that had + been carried out by his men in a fit of ill-advised officiousness. But the + Prince had to solve the serious problem caused by the presence of Ali + Partab within a stone-walled cell. + </p> + <p> + Should he let the fellow go, a report would be certain to reach Mahommed + Gunga by the speediest route. Vengeance would be instantly decided on, for + a Rajput does not merely accept service; he repays it, feudal-wise, and + smites hip and thigh for the honor of his men. The vengeance would be sure + to follow purely Eastern lines, and would be complicated; it would no + doubt take the form of siding in some way or other with his brother the + Maharajah. There would be instant, active doings, for that was Mahommed + Gunga's style! The fat would be in the fire months, perhaps, before the + proper time. + </p> + <p> + The prisoner's presence was maddening in a million ways. It had been the + Prince's plan (for he knew well enough that Mahommed Gunga had left a man + behind) to allow the escape to start; then it would have been an easy + matter to arrange an ambush—to kill Ali Partab—and to pretend + to ride to the rescue. Once rescued, Miss McClean and her father would be + almost completely at his mercy, for they would not be able to accuse him + of anything but friendliness, and would be obliged to return to whatever + haven of safety he cared to offer them. Once in his palace of their own + consent, they would have had to stay there until the rising of the whole + of India put an end to any chance of interference from the British + Government. + </p> + <p> + But now there was no Ali Partab outside to try to escort them to some + place of safety; therefore, there was little chance that the missionaries + would try to make a bolt. Instead of being in the position of a cat that + watches silently and springs when the mouse breaks cover, he was in the + unenviable condition now of being forced to make the first move. Over and + over again he cursed the men who had made Ali Partab prisoner, and over + and over again: he wondered how—by all the gods of all the + multitudinous Hindoo mythology—how, when, and by what stroke of + genius he could make use of the stiff-chinned Rangar and convert him from + being a rankling thorn into a useful aid. + </p> + <p> + He dared not poison him—yet. For the same reason he dared not put + him to the torture, to discover, or try to discover, what Mahommed Gunga's + real leanings were in the matter of loyalty to the Raj or otherwise. He + dared not let the man go, for forgiveness is not one of the virtues held + in high esteem by men of Ali Partab's race, and wrongful arrest is + considered ground enough for a feud to the death. It seemed he did not + dare do anything! + </p> + <p> + He racked his opium-dulled brain for a suspicion of a plan that might help + solve the difficulty, until his eye—wandering around the courtyard—fell + on the black shape of a woman. She was old and bent and she was busied, + with a handful of dry twigs, pretending to sweep around the stables. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that mother of corruption?” demanded Jaimihr; and a man came + running to him. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that eyesore? I have never seen her, have I?” + </p> + <p> + “Highness, she is a beggar woman. She sat by the gate, and pretended to a + power of telling fortunes—which it would seem she does possess in + some degree. It was thought better that she should use her gift in here, + for our advantage, than outside to our disadvantage. So she was brought in + and set to sweeping.” + </p> + <p> + “By the curse of the sin of the sack of Chitor, is my palace, then, a + midden for the crawling offal of all the Howrah streets? First this Rangar—next + a sweeper hag—what follows? What bring you next? Go, fetch the + street dogs in!” + </p> + <p> + “Highness, she is useful and costs nothing but the measure or two of meal + she eats.” + </p> + <p> + “A horse eats little more!” the angry Prince retorted, perfectly + accustomed to being argued with by his own servants. That is the + time-honored custom of the East; obedience is one thing—argument + another—both in their way are good, and both have their innings. + “Bring her to me—nay!—keep her at a decent distance—so!—am + I dirt for her broom?” + </p> + <p> + He sat and scowled at her, and the old woman tried to hide more of her + protruding bones under the rag of clothing that she wore; she stood, + wriggling in evident embarrassment, well out in the sun. + </p> + <p> + “What willst thou steal of mine?” the Prince demanded suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “I am no thief.” Bright, beady eyes gleamed back at him, and gave the lie + direct to her shrinking attitude of fear. But he had taken too much opium + overnight, and was in no mood to notice little distinctions. He was + satisfied that she should seem properly afraid of him, and he scowled + angrily when one of his retainers—in slovenly undress—crossed + the courtyard to him. The man's evident intention, made obvious by his + manner and his leer at the old woman, was to say something against her; + the Prince was in a mood to quarrel with any one, on any ground at all, + who did not cower to him. + </p> + <p> + “Prince, she it is who ran ever with the white woman, as a dog runs in the + dust.” + </p> + <p> + “What does she here, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Ask her!” grinned the trooper. “Unless she comes to look for Ali Partab, + I know not.” + </p> + <p> + He made the last part of his remark in a hurried undertone, too low for + the old woman to hear. + </p> + <p> + “Let her earn her meal around the stables,” said the Prince. A sudden + light dawned on him. Here was a means, at least, of trying to make use of + Ali Partab. “Go—do thy sweeping!” he commanded, and the hag slunk + off. + </p> + <p> + For ten minutes longer, Jaimihr sat still and flicked at the stone column + with his whip,—then he sent for his master of the horse, whose + mistaken sense of loyalty had been the direct cause of Ali Partab's + capture. He had acted instantly when the fat Hindoo brought him word, and + he had expected to be praised for quick decision and rewarded; he was + plainly in high dudgeon as he swaggered out of a dark door near the + stables and advanced sulkily toward his master. + </p> + <p> + “Remove the prisoner from that cell, taking great care that the hag yonder + sees what you do—yes, that hag—the new one; she is a spy. + Bring the prisoner in to me, where I will talk with him; afterward place + him in a different cell—put him where we kept the bear that died—there + is a dark comer beside it, where a man might hide; hide a man there when + it grows dark. And give the hag access. Say nothing to her; let her come + and go as she will; watch, and listen.” + </p> + <p> + Without another word, the Prince got up and shuffled in his decorated + slippers to a door at one end of the cloister. Five minutes later Ali + Partab—high-chinned, but looking miserable—was led between two + men through the same door, while the old woman went on very ostentatiously + with her sweeping about the yard. She even turned her back, to prove how + little she was interested. + </p> + <p> + Ali Partab was hustled forward into a high-ceilinged room, whose light + came filtered through a scrollwork mesh of chiselled stone where the wall + and ceiling joined. There were no windows, but six doors opened from it, + and every one of them was barred, as though they opened into + treasure-vaults. The Prince sat restlessly in a high, carved wooden chair; + there was no other furniture at all, and Ali Partab was left standing + between his guards. The Prince drew a pistol from inside his clothing. + </p> + <p> + “Leave us alone!” he ordered; and the guards went out, closing the door + behind them. + </p> + <p> + “I gave no orders for your capture,” said Jaimihr, with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Then, let me go,” grinned Ali Partab. + </p> + <p> + “First, I must be informed on certain matters.” + </p> + <p> + Ali Partab still grinned, but the muscles of his face changed their + position slightly, and it took no expert in physiognomy to read that + questions he would answer must be very tactfully asked. + </p> + <p> + “Ask on!” + </p> + <p> + “You are Mahommed Gunga's man?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. It is an honorable service.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he order you to stay here?” + </p> + <p> + “Here—in this palace? Allah forbid!” + </p> + <p> + “Did he order you to stay in Howrah?” + </p> + <p> + “He gave me certain orders. I obeyed them until your men invited swift + death for themselves and you by interfering with me!” + </p> + <p> + “What were the orders?” + </p> + <p> + Ali Partab grinned again—this time insolently. + </p> + <p> + “To make sure that the Jaimihr-sahib did not make away with the treasure + of his brother Howrah!” he answered. + </p> + <p> + “If you were released now what would you proceed to do?” + </p> + <p> + “To obey my orders.” + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr changed his tactics and assumed the frequently successful legal + line of pretending to know far more than he really did. + </p> + <p> + “I am told by one who overheard you speak that you were to take the + missionary and his daughter to Alwa's place. How much is my brother Howrah + paying for Mahommed Gunga's services in this matter? It is well known that + he and Alwa between them could call out all the Rangars in the district + for whichever side they chose. Since they are not on my side, they must be + for Howrah. How much does he pay? I might offer more.” + </p> + <p> + “I know not,” said Ali Partab, perfectly ready to admit anything that was + not true. + </p> + <p> + “It is true, then, that Howrah has designs on the missionary's daughter? + Alwa is to keep her prisoner until the great blow is struck, and Howrah + dare take possession of her?” + </p> + <p> + “That is not my business,” answered Ali Partab, with the air of a man who + knew all of the secret details but would not admit it. Jaimihr began to + think that he had lit at random on the answer to the riddle. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Mahommed Gunga?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not.” + </p> + <p> + “At Alwa's place?” + </p> + <p> + “Am I God that I should know where any man is whom I cannot see?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! So he is at Alwa's, eh?” That overdose of opium had rendered + Jaimihr's brain very dull indeed; he considered himself clever, and + overlooked the fact that Ali Partab would be almost surely lying to him. + In India men never tell the truth to chance-met strangers or to their + enemies; the truth is a valuable thing, to be shared cautiously among + friends. + </p> + <p> + “If Mahommed Gunga is at Alwa's,” reasoned Jaimihr, “then he is much too + close at hand to take any chances with. I must keep this man close + confined.” He raised his voice in a high-pitched command, and the guards + opened the door instantly; at a sign from the Prince they seized Ali + Partab by the wrists. + </p> + <p> + “I will send a message to Mahommed Gunga for thee,” said Jaimihr. “On his + answer will depend your release or otherwise.” He nodded. The guards took + their prisoner out between them—led him past the wrinkled old woman + in the courtyard—and halted him in a far corner, where an + evil-smelling cage of a place stood open to receive him. A moment later, + in order to make sure, the master of the horse sent for the old woman and + made her sweep out the cell a little; then he drove her away with a fierce + injunction not to let herself be caught anywhere near the cell again + unless ordered. Following the line of eastern reasoning, had he not given + that order he would not have known what her object could be should she + make her way toward the cell; but now, if she risked his wrath by + disobeying, he would know beyond the least shadow of a doubt that she had + a message to deliver to the prisoner—the man who was hidden in the + dark corner need entertain no hope of keeping the secret to himself for + purposes of sale or blackmail! + </p> + <p> + They trust each other wonderfully—with an almost childlike + confidence—in a household such as Jaimihr's! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ho! I am king! All lesser fry + Must cringe, and crawl, and cry to me, + And none have any rights but I,— + Except the right to lie to me. +</pre> + <p> + JAIMIHR was not the only man who would have dearly liked to know of the + whereabouts of Mahommed Gunga. It had been reported to Maharajah Howrah, + by his spies, that the redoubtable ex-Risaldar of horse had visited his + relatives in Howrah City, and, though he had not been able to ascertain a + word of what had passed, he was none the less anxious. + </p> + <p> + He knew, of course—for every soul in Howrah knew—that Jaimihr + was plotting for the throne. He knew, too, that the priests of Siva, who + with himself were joint keepers of the wickedly won, tax-swollen treasure, + had sounded Jaimihr; they had tentatively hinted that they might espouse + his cause, provided that an equitable division of the treasure were + arranged beforehand. The question uppermost in Maharajah Howrah's mind was + whether the Rangars—the Moslem descendants of once Hindoo Rajputs, + who formed such a small but valuable proportion of the local population—could + or could not be induced to throw in their lot with him. + </p> + <p> + No man on the whole tax-ridden countryside believed or considered it as a + distant possibility that the Rangars would strike for any hand except + their own; they were known, on the other hand, to be more or less + cohesive, and it was considered certain that, whichever way they swung, + when the priest-pulled string let loose the flood of revolution, they + would swing all together. The question, then, was how to win the favor of + the Rangars. It was not at all an easy question, for the love lost between + Hindoos and Mohammedans is less than that between dark-skinned men and + white—a lot less. + </p> + <p> + Within two hours of its happening he had been told of the capture of Ali + Partab; and he knew—for that was another thing his spies had told + him—that Ali Partab was Mahommed Gunga's man. Apparently, then, Ali + Partab—a prisoner in Jaimihr's palace-yard—was the only + connecting link between him and the Rangars whom he wished to win over to + his side. He was as anxious as any to help overwhelm the British, but he + naturally wished to come out of the turmoil high and dry himself, and he + was, therefore, ready to consider the protection of individual British + subjects if that would please the men whom he wanted for his friends. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga was known to have carried letters for the missionaries. He + was known to have engaged a new servant when he rode away from Howrah and + to have left his trusted man behind. Miss McClean was known to have + conversed with the retainer, immediately after which the man had been + seized and carried off by Jaimihr's men. Jaimihr was known to have placed + watchers round the mission house and—once—to have killed a man + in Miss McClean's defense. The deduction was not too far-fetched that the + retainer had been left as a protection against Jaimihr, and consequently + that the Rangars, at the behest of Mahommed Gunga, had decided—on at + least the white girl's safety. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, he argued, if he now proceeded to protect the McCleans, he + would, at all events, not incur the Rangars' enmity. + </p> + <p> + It was a serious decision that he had to make, for, for one thing, he + dared not yet make any move likely to incite his strongly supported + brother to open rebellion; he dared not, therefore, interfere at present + with the watchers near the mission house. To openly befriend the Christian + priests would be to set the whole Hindoo population against himself, for + it had been mainly against suttee and its kindred horrors that the + missionaries had bent all their energy. + </p> + <p> + The great palace of Howrah was ahum. Elephants with painted tusks, and + loaded to the groaning-point under howdahs decked with jewels and + gold-leaf, came and went through the carved entrance-gates. Occasionally + camels, loaded too until their legs all but buckled underneath them, + strutted with their weird, mixed air of foolishness and dignity, to be + disburdened of great cases that eight men could scarcely lift; on the + outside the cases were marked “Hardware,” but a horde of armed and waiting + malcontents scattered about the countryside could have given a more + detailed and accurate guess at what was in them. + </p> + <p> + Men came and went—men almost of all castes and many nationalities. + Priests—not all of them fat, but every single one fat-smiling—sunned + themselves, or waited in the shade until they could have audience; no + priest of any Hindoo temple had to wait long to be admitted to that + Rajah's presence, and there was an everlasting chain of them, each with + his axe to grind, coming and going by day and night. + </p> + <p> + Color rioted in the blazing sun and deep, dark shadows lurked in all the + thousand places where the sun could never penetrate. It was India in + essence—noise and blaze and flouted splendor, with a back-ground and + underground of mystery. Any but the purblind British could have told at + half a glance, merely by the attitude of Howrah's armed sepoys, that a + concerted movement of some kind was afoot—that there was a + tight-held thread of plan running through the whole confusion; but no man—not + even a native—could have guessed what secret plotting might be going + on within the acres of the straggling palace. + </p> + <p> + From the courtyard there was no least hint obtainable even of the + building's size; its shape could only have been marked down from a + bird's-eye view aloft. Even the roof was so uneven, and so subdivided by + traced and deep-carved walls and ramparts, that a sentry posted at one end + could not have seen the next man to him, perhaps some twenty feet away. + Building had been piled on building—other buildings had been added + end to end and crisscrosswise—and each extension had been walled in + as new centuries saw new additions, until the many acres were a maze of + bricks and stone and fountain-decorated gardens that no lifelong palace + denizen could have learned to know in their entirety. + </p> + <p> + Within—one story up above the courtyard din—in a spacious, + richly decorated room that gave on to a gorgeous roof-garden, the + Maharajah sat and let himself be fanned by women, who were purchasable for + perhaps a tenth of what any of the fans had cost. Another woman, younger + than the rest, played wild minor music to him on an instrument not much + unlike a flute; they were melancholy notes—beautiful—but sad + enough to sow pessimism's seed in any one who listened. + </p> + <p> + His divan—carved, inlaid, and gilded—faced the wide, + awning-hung opening to the garden. Round him on all three sides was a + carved stone screen through whose interstices came rustlings and + whisperings that told of the hidden life which sees and is not seen. The + women with the fans and flute were mere court accessories; the real nerves + of Asia—the veiled intriguers whom none may know but whose secret + power any man may feel—could be heard like caged birds crowding on + their perches. + </p> + <p> + Now and then glass bracelets tinkled from behind the screen; ever and + again the music stopped, until another girl appeared to play another + melancholy air. But the even purring of the fans went on incessantly, and + the poor, priest-ridden fool who owned it all scowled straight in front of + him, his brows lined deep in thought. + </p> + <p> + It is a strange malady, that which seizes men whom fate has elevated to a + throne. It acts as certain Indian drugs are known to do—deprives its + victim of the power to act, but intensifies his ability to think, and + theorize, and feel. Howrah, with untold treasure in his vaults, with an + army of five thousand men, with the authority and backing that a hundred + generations give, could long for more—could fear the loss of what he + did have—but could not act. + </p> + <p> + The priests held him fear-bound. His brother held him hate-bound. His + women—and not even he knew, probably, how many of them languished in + the secret warren inside those palace walls—kept him restless in a + net of this-and-that-way-tugged intrigue. Flattery—and that is by + far the subtlest poison of the East—blinded him utterly to his own + best course, and kept him blind. Luxury unmanned him; he who had once held + the straightest spear in western India, and for the love of feeling red + blood racing in his veins had ridden down panthers on the maidan, was + flabby now; deep, dark rings underlined his eyes and the once + steel-sinewed wrist trembled. + </p> + <p> + His brother Jaimihr in his place, unsapped yet by decadent delights, would + have loosed his five thousand on the countryside—butchered any who + opposed him—pressed into service those who merely lagged—and + would have plunged India in a welter of blood before the priests had time + to mature their plans and arrange to keep all the power and plunder to + themselves. But Jaimihr had to stalk lesser game and content himself with + pricking at the ever-growing hate that gradually rendered the Maharajah + decisionless and sorry only for himself. + </p> + <p> + A first glimpse at Howrah, particularly in the shaded room, showed a + handsome man, black-bearded, lean, and lithe; a second look, undazzled by + his jewelry or by the studied magnificence of each apparently unstudied + movement, betrayed a man whose lightest word was law, but who feared to + give the word. Where muscles had been were unfilled folds of skin that + shook; where a firm if selfish mouth had once smiled merrily beneath a + pointed black mustache, a mouth still smiled, but meanly; the selfishness + was there, but the firmness had faded. + </p> + <p> + His eyes, though, were his most marked feature. They were hungry eyes, + pathetic as a caged beast's and as savage. No one could see them without + pitying him, and no man in his senses would have accepted their owner's + word on any point at all. A man looks as he did when the fire of a burning + velt has circled him and there is no way out. There was fear behind them, + and the look of restless search for safety that is nowhere. + </p> + <p> + In one of the many-columned courtyards of the palace was a chained, mad + elephant whose duty was to kneel on the Rajah's captive enemies. In + another courtyard was a big, square tank with a weedy, slippery stone ramp + at one end; in the tank were alligators; down the ramp other of the + Rajah's enemies, tight-bound, would scream and struggle and slide from + time to time. But they were only little enemies who died in that way; the + greater ones, who had power or influence, lived on and plotted, because + the owner of the execution beasts was afraid to put them to their use. + </p> + <p> + Below, in damp, unlit dungeons, there were silken cords suspended from + stone ceilings; their ends were noosed, and the nooses hung ten feet above + the floor; those told only, though, of the fate of women who had schemed + unwisely—favorites of a week, perhaps, who had dared to sulk, + listeners through screens who had forgotten to forget. No men died ever by + the silken cord, and no tales ever reached the outside world of who did + die down in the echoing brick cellars; there was a path that led + underground to the alligator tank and a trap-door that opened just above + the water edge. Night, and the fungus-fouled long jaws, and slimy, + weed-filled water—the creak of rusty hinges—a splash—the + bang of a falling trap—a swirl in the moonlit water, and ring after + heavy, widening ring that lapped at last against the stone would write + conclusion to a tragedy. There would be no record kept. + </p> + <p> + Howrah was childless. That, of all the hell-sent troubles that beset him, + was the worst. That alone was worse than the hoarded treasure whose secret + he and his brother and the priests of Siva shared. Only in India could it + happen that a line of Rajahs, drag-net-armed—oblivious to the duties + of a king and greedy only of the royal right to tax—could pile up, + century by century, a hoard of gold an jewels—to be looked at. The + secret of that treasure made the throne worth plotting for—gave the + priests, who shared the secret, more than nine tenths of their power for + blackmail, pressure, and intrigue—and grew, like a cancer, into each + succeeding Rajah's mind until, from a man with a soul inside him he became + in turn a heartless, fear ridden miser. + </p> + <p> + Any childless king is liable to feel the insolent expectancy betrayed by + the heir apparent. But Jaimihr—who had no sons either—was an + heir who understood all of the Indian arts whereby a man of brain may + hasten the succession. Worry, artfully stirred up, is the greatest weapon + of them all, and never a day passed but some cleverly concocted tale would + reach the Rajah, calculated to set his guessing faculties at work. + </p> + <p> + Either of the brothers, when he happened to be thirsty, would call his + least-trusted counsellor to drink first from the jewelled cup, and would + watch the man afterward for at least ten minutes before daring to slake + his thirst; but Jaimihr had the moral advantage of an aspirant; Howrah, on + the defensive, wilted under the nibbling necessity for wakefulness, while + Jaimihr grinned. + </p> + <p> + What were five thousand drilled, armed men to a king who feared to use + them? Of what use was a waiting countryside, armed if not drilled, if he + was not sure that his brother had not won every man's allegiance? Being + Hindoo, priest-reared, priest-fooled, and priest-flattered, he knew, or + thought he knew, to an anna the value he might set on Hindoo loyalty or on + the loyalty of any man who did not stand to gain in pocket by remaining + true; and, as many another fear-sick tyrant has begun to do, he turned, in + his mind at least, to men of another creed—which in India means of + another race, practically-wondering whether he could not make use of them + against his own. + </p> + <p> + Like every other Rajah of his line, he longed to have sole control of that + wonderful treasure that had eaten out his very manhood. Miser though he + was, he was prepared at least to bargain with outsiders with the promise + of a portion of it, if that would give him possession of it all. He had + learned from the priests who took such full advantage of him an absolute + contempt for Mohammedans; and their teaching, as well as his own trend of + character, made him quite indifferent to promises he might make, for the + sake of diplomacy, to men of another creed. It began to be obvious to him + that he would lose nothing by courting the favor of the Rangars, and of + Alwa in particular, and that he might win security by coaxing them to take + his part. Of one thing he was certain: the Rangars would do anything at + all, if by doing it they could harm the Hindoo priests. + </p> + <p> + But, being of the East Eastern, and at that Hindoo, he could not have + brought himself to make overtures direct and go straight to the real + issue. He had to feel his way gingerly. The thousand horses in his + stables, he reflected, would mount a thousand of the Rangars and place at + his disposal a regiment of cavalry which would be difficult to beat; but a + thousand mounted Mohammedans might be a worse thorn in his side than even + his brother or the priests. He decided to write to Alwa, but to open + negotiations with a very thin and delicately inserted wedge. + </p> + <p> + He could write. The priests had overlooked that opportunity, and had + taught him in his boyhood; in that one thing he was their equal. But the + other things that they had taught him, too, offset his penmanship. He was + too proud to write—too lazy, too enamoured of his dignity. He called + a court official, and the man sat very humbly at his feet—listened + meekly to the stern command to secrecy—and took the letter from + dictation. + </p> + <p> + Alwa was informed, quite briefly, that in view of certain happenings in + Howrah City His Highness the Maharajah had considered it expedient to set + a guard over the Christian missionaries in the city, for their safety. The + accompanying horse was a gift to the Alwa-sahib. The Alwa-sahib himself + would be a welcome guest whenever he might care to come. + </p> + <p> + The document was placed in a silver tube and scaled. Within the space of + half an hour a horseman was kicking up the desert dust, riding as though + he carried news of life-and-death importance, and with another man and a + led horse galloping behind him. Five minutes after the man had started, in + a cell below the temple, of Siva, the court official who had taken down + the letter was repeating it word for word to a congeries of priests. And + one hour later still, in a room up near the roof of Jaimihr's palace, one + of the priests—panting from having come so fast—was asking the + Rajah's brother what he thought about it. + </p> + <p> + “Did he say nothing—,” asked Jaimihr. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + The priest watched him eagerly; he would have to bear back to the other + priests an exact account of the Prince's every word, and movement, and + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Then I, too, say nothing!” answered Jaimihr. + </p> + <p> + “But to the priests of Siva, who are waiting, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell them I said nothing.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Eyes in the dark, awake and keen, + See and may not themselves be seen; + But—and this is the tale I tell— + What if the dark have eyes as well? +</pre> + <p> + BESIDE the reeking bear's cage in which Ali Partab stood and swore was a + dark, low corner space in which at one time and another sacks and useless + impedimenta had been tossed, to become rat-eaten and decayed. In among all + the rubbish, cross-legged like the idol of the underworld, a nearly naked + Hindoo sat, prick-eared. He was quite invisible long before the sun went + down, for that was the dingiest corner of the yard; when twilight came, he + could not have been seen from a dozen feet away. + </p> + <p> + Joanna, sweeping, sweeping, sweeping, in the courtyard, with her back very + nearly always turned toward the cage, appeared to take no notice of the + falling darkness; unlike the other menials, who hurried to their rest and + evening meal, she went on working, accomplishing very little but seeming + to be very much in earnest about it all. Very, very gradually she drew + nearer to the cage. When night fell, she was within ten feet of it. A few + lamps were lit then, here and there over doorways, but nobody appeared to + linger in the courtyard; no footfalls resounded; nothing but the neigh of + stabled horses and the chatter around the big, flat supper pans broke on + the evening quiet. + </p> + <p> + Joanna drew nearer. Ali Partab came forward to the cage bars, but said + nothing; it was very dark inside the cage, and even the sharp-eyed old + woman could not possibly have seen his gestures; when he stood, + tight-pressed, against the bars she might have made out his dark shape + dimly, but unless he chose to speak no signal could possibly have passed + from him to her. He said nothing, though, and she-still sweeping, with her + back toward him—passed by the cage, and stooped to scratch at some + hard-caked dirt or other close to the rubbish hole where the Hindoo + waited. Still scratching, still working with her twig broom, still with + her back toward the rubbish hole, she approached until the darkest shadow + swallowed her. + </p> + <p> + There were two in the dark then—she and the man who listened. He, + motionless as stone, had watched her; peering outward at the lesser + darkness, he lost sight of her for a second as she backed into the deepest + shadow unexpectedly. Before he could become accustomed to the altered + focus and the deeper black, her beady eyes picked out the whites of his. + Before he could move she was on him—at his throat, tearing it with + thin, steel fingers. Before he could utter a sound, or move, she had drawn + a short knife from her clothing and had driven it to the hilt below his + ear. He dropped without a gurgle, and without a sound she gathered up her + broom again and swept her way back past the cage-bars, where Ali Partab + waited. + </p> + <p> + “Was any there?” he whispered. + </p> + <p> + “There was one.” + </p> + <p> + “And—?” + </p> + <p> + “He was.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Now will the reward be three mohurs instead of two!” + </p> + <p> + “Where are they?” + </p> + <p> + “These pigs have taken all the money from me. Now we must wait until + Mahommed Gunga-sahib comes. His word is pledged.” + </p> + <p> + “He said two mohurs.” + </p> + <p> + “I—Ali Partab—pledge his word for three.” + </p> + <p> + “And who art thou? The bear in the cage said: 'I will eat thee if I get + outside!”' + </p> + <p> + “Mother of corruption! Listen! Alwa must know! Canst thou escape from + here? Canst thou reach the Alwa-sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “If the price were four mohurs, there might be many things that I could + do.” + </p> + <p> + “The price is three! I have spoken!” + </p> + <p> + “'I would eat honey were I outside!' said the bear.” + </p> + <p> + “Hag! The bear died in the cage, and they sold his pelt for how much? + Alive, he had been worth three mohurs, but he died while they bargained + for him!—Quick!” + </p> + <p> + “I am black, sahib, and the night is black. I am old, and none would + believe me active. They watch the gates, but the bats fly in and out.” + </p> + <p> + “Find out, then, what has happened to my horses, left at the caravansary; + give that information to the Alwa-sahib. Tell the Miss-sahib at the + mission where I am. Tell her whither I have sent thee. Tell the Alwa-sahib + that a Rangar—by name Ali Partab—sworn follower of the + prophet, and servant of the Risaldar Mahommed Gunga—is in need and + asks his instant aid. Say also to the Alwa-sahib that it may be well to + rescue the Miss-sahib first, before he looks for me, but of that matter I + am no judge, being imprisoned and unable to ascertain the truth. Hast thou + understood?” + </p> + <p> + “And all that for three mohurs?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay. The price is now two mohurs again. It will be one unless—” + </p> + <p> + “Three, sahib! It was three!” + </p> + <p> + “Then run! Hasten!” + </p> + <p> + The shadows swallowed her again. She crept where they were darkest—lay + still once, breathless, while a man walked almost over her—reached + the outer wall, and felt her way along it until she reached low eaves that + reached down like a jagged saw from utter blackness. Less than a minute + later she was crawling monkeywise along a roof; before another five had + passed she had dropped on all fours in the dust of the outer road and was + running like a black ghost—head down—an end of her loin-cloth + between her teeth—one arm held tight to her side and the other + crooked outward, swinging—striding, panting, boring through the + blackness. + </p> + <p> + She wasted little time at the caravansary. The gate was shut and a sleepy + watchman cursed her for breaking into his revery. + </p> + <p> + “Horses? Belonging to a Rangar? Fool! Does not the Maharajah-sahib impound + all horses left ownerless? Ask them back of him that took them! Go, + night-owl! Go ask him!” + </p> + <p> + Almost as quickly as a native pony could have eaten up the distance, she + dropped panting on the door-step of the little mission house. She was + panting now from fright as well as sheer exhaustion. There were watchers—two + sets of them. One man stood, with his back turned within ten paces of her, + and another—less than two yards away from him—stood, turned + half sideways, looking up the street and whistling to himself. There was + not a corner or an angle of the little place that was not guarded. + </p> + <p> + She had tried the back door first, but that was locked, and she had rapped + on it gently until she remembered that of evenings the missionary and his + daughter occupied the front room always and that they would not have heard + her had she hammered. She tapped now, very gently, with her fingers on the + lower panel of the door, quaking and trembling in every limb, but taking + care to make her little noise unevenly, in a way that would be certain to + attract attention inside. Tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap. Pause. + Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Pause. Tap-tap. The door opened suddenly. Both + watchers turned and gazed straight into the lamplight that streamed out + past the tall form of Duncan McClean. He stared at them and they stared + back again. Joanna slunk into the deep shadow at one side of the steps. + </p> + <p> + “Is it necessary for you to annoy me by rapping on my door as well as by + spying on me?” asked the missionary in a tone of weary remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + The guards laughed and turned their backs with added insolence. In that + second Joanna shot like a black spirit of the night straight past the + missionary's legs and collapsed in a bundle on the floor behind him. + </p> + <p> + “Shut the door, sahib!” she hissed at him. “Quick! Shut the door!” + </p> + <p> + He shut it and bolted it, half recognizing something in the voice or else + guided by instinct. + </p> + <p> + “Joanna!” he exclaimed, holding up a lamp above her. “You, Joanna!” + </p> + <p> + At the name, Rosemary McClean came running out—looked for an instant—and + then knelt by the old woman. + </p> + <p> + “Father, bring some water, please, quickly!” + </p> + <p> + The missionary went in search of a water-jar, and Rosemary McClean bent + down above the ancient, shrivelled, sorry-looking mummy of a woman—drew + the wrinkled head into her lap—stroked the drawn face—and wept + over her. The spent, age-weakened, dried-out widow had fainted; there was + no wakened self-consciousness of black and white to interfere. This was a + friend—one lone friend of her own sex amid all the waste of + smouldering hate—some one surely to be wept over and made much of + and caressed. The poor old hag recovered consciousness with her head + pillowed on a European lap, and Duncan McClean—no stickler for + convention and no believer in a line too tightly drawn—saw fit to + remonstrate as he laid the jar of water down beside them. + </p> + <p> + “Why,” she answered, looking up at him, “father, I'd have kissed a dog + that got lost and came back again like this!” + </p> + <p> + They picked her up between them, after they had let her drink, and carried + her between them to the long, low sitting-room, where she told them—after + considerable make-believe of being more spent than she really was—after + about a tenth “sip” at the brandy flask and when another had been + laughingly refused—all about Ali Partab and what his orders to her + were. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what it all can mean?” McClean sat back and tried to summarize + his experiences of months and fit them into what Joanna said. + </p> + <p> + “What does that mean?” asked his daughter, leaning forward. She was + staring at Joanna's forearm and from that to a dull-red patch on the + woman's loin-cloth. Joanna answered nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Are you wounded, Joanna? Are you sure? That's blood! Look here, father!” + </p> + <p> + He agreed that it was blood. It was dry and it came off her forearm in + little flakes when he rubbed it. But not a word could they coax out of + Joanna to explain it, until Rosemary—drawing the old woman to her—espied + the handle of her knife projecting by an inch above the waist-fold of her + cloth. Too late Joanna tried to hide it. Rosemary held her and drew it + out. Beyond any shadow of a doubt, there was blood on the blade still, and + on the wooden hilt, and caked in the clumsy joint between the hilt and + blade. + </p> + <p> + “'Joanna—have you killed any one?” + </p> + <p> + Joanna shook her head. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me the truth, Joanna. Whose blood is that?” + </p> + <p> + “A dog's, Miss-sahib. A street dog attacked me as I ran hither.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could believe it!” + </p> + <p> + “I too!” said her father, and he took Joanna to one side and + cross-examined her. But he could get no admission from her—nothing + but the same statement, with added details each time he made her tell it, + that she had killed a dog. + </p> + <p> + They fed her, and she ate like a hyena. No caste prejudices or forbidden + foods troubled her; she ate whatever came her way, Hindoo food, or + Mohammedan, or Christian,—and reached for more—and finished, + as hyenas finish, by breaking bones to get the marrow out. At midnight + they left her, curled dogwise on a mat in the hall, to sleep; and at dawn, + when they came to wake her, she was gone again—gone utterly, without + a trace or sign of explanation. The doors, both front and back, were + locked. + </p> + <p> + It was two days later when they found a hole torn through the thatch, + through which she had escaped; and though they searched the house from + cellar up to roof, and turned all their small possessions over, they could + not find (and they were utterly glad of it) that she had stolen anything. + </p> + <p> + “Thank God for that!” said the missionary. + </p> + <p> + “I've finished disbelieving in Joanna!” said his daughter with a grimace + that went always with irrevocable decision. + </p> + <p> + “I've come to the conclusion,” said McClean, “that there are more than + just Joanna to be trusted. There is Ali Partab, and—who knows how + many?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Against all fear; against the weight of what, + For lack of worse name, men miscall the Law; + Against the Tyranny of Creed; against the hot, + Foul Greed of Priest, and Superstition's Maw; + Against all man-made Shackles, and a man-made Hell— + Alone—At last—Unaided— + I REBEL! +</pre> + <p> + No single, individual circumstance, but a chain of happenings in very + quick succession, brought about a climax, forcing the hand of Howrah and + his brother and for the moment drawing the McCleans, father and daughter, + into the toothed wheel of Indian action. As usual in India, the usual + brought about the unexpected, and the unexpected fitted strangely into the + complex, mysteriously worked-out whole. + </p> + <p> + Two days after Joanna left the mission house, through a hole made in the + thatch, the spirit of revolt took hold of Rosemary McClean again. The + stuffy, narrow quarters—the insolent, doubled, unexplained, but very + obvious, guard that lounged outside—the sense of rank injustice and + helplessness—the weird feeling of impending horror added onto + stale-grown ghastliness—youth, chafing at the lack of liberty—stirred + her to action. + </p> + <p> + Without a word to her father, who was writing reports that seemed endless + at the little desk by the shaded window, she left the house—drew + with a physical effort on all her reserve of strength and health—faced + the scorching afternoon wind, as though it were a foe that could shrink + away before her courage, and walked, since she had no pony now, in any + direction in which chance or her momentary whim might care to lead her. + </p> + <p> + “I won't cry again—and I won't submit—and I'll see what + happens!” she told herself; and the four who followed her at a + none-too-respectful distance—two of the Maharajah's men in uniform + and two shabby-looking ruffians of Jaimihr's—grinned as they scented + action. Like their masters they bore no love for one another; they were + there now, in fact, as much to watch one another as the missionaries; they + detected the possibility of an excuse to be at one another's throats, and + gloated as they saw two messengers, one of either side, run off in a hurry + to inform the rival camps. + </p> + <p> + It was neither plan nor conscious selection that led Rosemary McClean + toward the far end of the maidan, where the sluggish, narrow, winding + Howrah River sucked slimily beside the burning ghats. When she realized + where her footsteps were leading her she would have turned in horror and + retreated, for even a legitimately roasting corpse that died before the + Hindoo priests had opportunity to introduce it to the flames is no sight + for eyes that are civilized. + </p> + <p> + But, when she turned her head, the sight of her hurrying escort perspiring + in her wake—(few natives like the heat and wind one whit better than + their conquerors)—filled her with an unexpected, probably + unjustifiable, determination not to let them see her flinch at any kind of + horror. That was the spirit of sahibdom that is not always quite + commendable; it is the spirit that takes Anglo-Saxon women to the + seething, stenching plains and holds them there high-chinned to stiffen + their men-folk by courageous example, but it leads, too, to things not + quite so womanly and good. + </p> + <p> + “I'll show them!” muttered Rosemary McClean, wiping the blown dust from + her eyes and facing the wind again that now began to carry with it the + unspread taint—the awful, sickening, soul-revolting smell + inseparable from Hindoo funeral rites. There were three pyres, + low-smouldering, close by the river-bank, and men stirred with long poles + among the ashes to make sure that the incineration started the evening + before should be complete; there was one pyre that looked as though it had + been lit long after dawn—another newly lit—and there were two + pyres building. + </p> + <p> + It was those two new ones that held her attention, and finally decided her + to hold her course. She wanted to make sure. The smell of burning—the + unoutlined, only guessed-at ghastliness—would probably have killed + her courage yet, before she came close enough to really see; but the + suspicion of a greater horror drew her on, as snakes are said to draw + birds on, by merely being snakes, and with red-rimmed eyes smarting from + smoke as well as wind she pressed forward. + </p> + <p> + The ghats were deserted-looking, for the funeral rites of those who burned + were practically over until the time should come to scatter ashes on the + river-surface; only a few attendants hovered close to the fires to prod + them and occasionally throw on extra logs. Only round the two new pyres + not yet quite finished was anything approaching a crowd assembled, and + there a priest was officiously directing the laying of the logs. It was + the manner of their laying and the careful building of a scaffold on each + side of either pyre that held Rosemary McClean's attention—called + all the rebellious womanhood within her to interfere—and drew her + nearer. + </p> + <p> + Soon the priest noticed her—a cotton-skirted wraith amid the smoke—and + shouted to the guards behind; one of them answered, laughing coarsely, and + Rosemary understood enough of the dialect he used to grit her teeth with + shame and anger. The men left off building, and, directed by the priest, + came toward her in a ragged line to cut her off from closer approach; she + stood, then—examined the new pyres as carefully as she could—walked + to another vantage-point and viewed them sideways—then turned her + back. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the brutes!” she ejaculated. There were tears in her voice, as well + as helpless anger. “There is not one devil, there are a million, and they + all live here!” + </p> + <p> + She looked back again once, trembling with an overmastering hate, directed + less at the priest who grinned back at her than at the loathsome rite he + represented. In two actual words, she cursed him. It was the first time + she had ever cursed anybody in her life, and the wickedness of doing it + swept over her as a relief. She revelled in it. She was glad she had + cursed him. Her little, light, graceful body that had been quivering grew + calm again, and she turned to hurry home with an unexpected sense of + having pulled some lever in the mechanism that would bring about results. + She neither knew nor cared what results, nor how they were to happen; she + felt that that curse of hers, her first, had landed on the mark! + </p> + <p> + But she had come further than she thought. Distance, hot wind, and emotion + had exhausted her far more, too, than she had had time to realize. Before + a mile of the homeward journey had been accomplished, she was forced + against her stubborn Scots will to sit down on a big stone by the roadside + and rest, while the four that followed came up close, grinning and passing + remarks in anything but under-tones. If the meaning of the words escaped + her, their gestures left little to be misunderstood. A crowd of stragglers + drew together near the four—laughed with them—took sides in + the coarse-worded argument about Jaimihr's known ambition—and shamed + her into pressing on homeward. + </p> + <p> + But she was forced to rest again, and then again. Physical sickness + prevented her from obeying instinct, reason, will, that all three urged + her on. No false pride now told her to dare the insolence of the guards; + nothing appealed to her but the desire to hurry, hurry, hurry, and do + whatever should appear to need doing when she reached the mission house. + She had no plan in her head. She only knew that she had cursed a man, and + that the curse was potent. But her feet dragged, and her vitality died + down. It was sundown when she reached the mission house, and she could + hear the rising, falling, intermittent din of drums before she saw her + father in the doorway. + </p> + <p> + “Father!” She ran to him, and he caught her in his arms to save her from + falling headlong. “Father, there is going to be a suttee tonight! Hear the + drums, father! Hear the drums! It'll be tonight! That's to stop the + screams from being heard! Listen to them, father—two suttees, side + by side—I've seen the pyres and the scaffolds—do they jump + into the flames, father, from the scaffolds?—tell me! No-don't tell + me—I won't listen! Take me away from here—away—away—away—take + me away, d'you hear!” + </p> + <p> + He carried her inside, and laid her on the caned couch in the living-room, + looking like a great, big, helpless, gray-haired baby, as any man is prone + to do when he has hysteria to deal with in a woman whom he loves. + </p> + <p> + “I cursed a man, father! I cursed a man! I did! I said 'Damn you!' I'm + glad!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't, little girl—don't! Lassie mine, don't! Never mind what you + saw or what you said—be calm now—there is something we must + do; we must act; I have determined we must act. We must act tonight. But + we can't do anything with you in this state.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly, gradually he calmed her—or probably she grew calm, in spite + of his attentions, for he was too upset himself to exercise much soothing + sway over anybody else. At last, though, she fell into a fitful sleep, and + he sat beside her, holding rigid the left hand that she clutched, letting + it stiffen and grow cold and numb for fear of waking her. + </p> + <p> + Outside a full moon rose majestically, pure and silvery as peace herself, + bathing the universe in blessings. And each month, when the full moon rose + above the carved dome of Siva's temple, there was a ceremony gone through + that commemorated cruelty, greed, poisoning, throat-slitting, hate, and + all the hell-invented infamy that suckles always at the breast of stagnant + treasure. + </p> + <p> + Since history has forgotten when, at each full moon, the priests of Siva + had gone with circumstantial ceremony to view the hoarded wealth tied up + by jealousy and guarded jealously in Howrah's palace. With them, as the + custom that was stronger than a thousand laws dictated, went the Maharajah + and his brother Jaimihr—joint owners with the priests. + </p> + <p> + There had not been one Maharajah, since the first of that long line, who + would not have given the lives of ten thousand men for leave to broach + that treasure; nor, since the first heir apparent shared the secret with + the priests and the holder of the throne, had there been one prince in + line-son-brother-cousin—who would not have drenched the throne with + his relation's blood with that same purpose. + </p> + <p> + Heir after heir could have agreed with Maharajah, but the priests had + stood between. That treasure was their fulcrum; the legacy, dictated by a + dead, misguided hand, intended as a war reserve to stay the throne of + Howrah in its need, and trebly locked to guard against profligacy, had + placed the priests of Siva in the position of dictators of Howrah's + destiny. A word from them, and a prince would slay his father—only + to discover that the promises of Siva's priests were something less to + build on than the hope of loot. There would be another heir apparent to be + let into the secret—another man to scheme and hunger for the throne—another + party to the bloody three-angled intrigue which kept the Siva-servers fat + and the princes lean. + </p> + <p> + Past masters of the art by which superstitious ignorance is swayed, the + priests could swing the allegiance of the mob whichever way they chose—even + the soldiers, loyal enough to their masters under ordinary circumstances, + would have rebelled at as much as a hint from holy Siva. It was the + priests who made it possible for Jaimihr to dare take his part in the + ceremony; without them he would not have entered his brother's palace-yard + unless five thousand men at least were there to guard his back—but, + if there was danger where the priests were, there was safety too. + </p> + <p> + As the custom was, he rode to the temple of Siva first with a ten-man + guard; there, when the priests had finished droning age-old anthems to the + echoing roof, when his brother, the Maharajah, also with a ten-man guard, + had joined him, and the two had submitted to the sanctifying rites + prescribed, eleven priests would walk with them in solemn mummery to the + palace-entrance—censer-swinging, chanting, blasphemously acting duty + to their gods and state. + </p> + <p> + The moon—and that, too, was custom-rested with her lower rim one + full hand's breadth above the temple dome as viewed from the palace-gate, + when a gong clanged resonantly, died to silence, music of pipes and + cymbals broke on the evening quiet, and the strange procession started + from the temple door, the Maharajah leading. + </p> + <p> + Generally it passed uninterrupted over the intervening street to the + palace-entrance, between the ranks of a salaaming, silent crowd, and + disappeared from view. This time, though, for the first time in living + memory, and possibly for the first time in all history, the unforeseen, + amazing happened. The procession stopped. Moon-bathed, between the carved + posts of the palace-gate, two people blocked the way. + </p> + <p> + The music ceased. The sudden silence framed itself against the distant + thunder of a hundred drums. The crowd—all heads bowed, as decreed—drew + in its breath and held it. A sea of pugrees moved as brown eyes looked up + surreptitiously—stared—memorized—and then looked down + again. There was no precedent for this happening, and even the Maharajah + and the priests were at a momentary loss—stood waiting, staring—and + said nothing. + </p> + <p> + “Maharajah-sahib!—I must interrupt your ceremony. I must have word + with you at once!” + </p> + <p> + It was Duncan McClean, bareheaded, holding his daughter's hand. They had + no weapons; they were messengers of peace, protesting, or so they looked. + No longer timid, but resigned to what might happen—they held each + other's hands, and blocked the way of Siva's votaries—Siva's tools—and + Siva's ritual. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr whispered to his brother—the first time he had dared one + word to him in person for years—the high priest of the temple + pressed forward angrily, saying nothing, but trying to combine rage and + dignity with an attempt to turn the incident to priestly advantage. Surely + this was a crisis out of which the priests must come triumphant; they held + all the cards—knew how and when rebellion was timed, and could + compare, as the principals themselves could not do, Howrah's strength with + Jaimihr's. And the priests had the crowd to back them—the ignorant, + superstitious crowd that can make or dethrone emperors. + </p> + <p> + But some strange freak of real dignity—curiosity perhaps, or + possibly occasion—spurred desire to act of his own initiative and + keep the high priest in his place—impelled the Maharajah in that + minute. Men said afterward that Jaimihr had whispered to him advice which + he knew was barbed because it was his brother whispering, and that he + promptly did the opposite; but, whatever the motive, he drew himself up in + all his jewelled splendor and demanded: “What do you people wish?” + </p> + <p> + The McCleans were given no time to reply. The priests did not see fit to + let the reins of this occasion slip; the word went out, panic-voiced, that + sacrilege to Siva was afoot. + </p> + <p> + “Slay them! Slay them!” yelled the crowd. “They violate the sacred rites!” + </p> + <p> + There were no Mohammedans among that crowd to take delight in seeing + Hindoo priests discomfited and Hindoo ritual disturbed. There came no + counter-shout. The crowd did not, as so often happens, turn and rend + itself; and yet, though a surge from behind pressed forward, the men in + front pressed back. + </p> + <p> + “Slay them! Slay the sacrilegious foreigners!” The yell grew louder and + more widely voiced, but no man in the front ranks moved. + </p> + <p> + The Maharajah looked from the company of guards that lined the + palace-steps to the priests and his brother and the crowd—and then + to the McCleans again. + </p> + <p> + He remembered Alwa and his Rangars, thought of the messenger whom he had + sent, remembered that a regiment of lance-armed horsemen would be worth a + risk or two to win over to his side, and made decision. + </p> + <p> + “You are in danger,” he asserted, using a pronoun not intended to convey + politeness, but—Eastern of the East—counteracting that by + courtesy of manner. “Do you ask my aid?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, among other things,” Duncan McClean answered him. “I wish also to + speak about a Rangar, who I know is held prisoner in a cage in the + Jaimihr-sahib's palace.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak of that later,” answered Howrah. “Guard!” + </p> + <p> + He made a sign. A spoken word might have told the priests too much, and + have set them busy fore-stalling him. The guards rushed down the steps, + seized both McCleans, and half-carried, half-hustled them up the + palace-steps, through the great carved doors, and presently returned + without them. + </p> + <p> + “They are my prisoners,” said the Maharajah, turning to the high priest. + “We will now proceed.” + </p> + <p> + The crowd was satisfied, at least for the time being. Well versed in the + kind of treatment meted out to prisoners, partly informed of what was + preparing for the British all through India, the crowd never doubted for + an instant but that grizzly vengeance awaited the Christians who had dared + to remonstrate against time-honored custom. It looked for the moment as + though the high priest's word had moved the Maharajah to order the arrest, + and the high priest realized it. By skilful play and well-used dignity he + might contrive to snatch all the credit yet. He ordered; the pipes and + cymbals started up again at once; and, one by one—Maharajah, + Jaimihr, high priest, then royal guard, Jaimihr's guard, priest again—the + procession wound ahead, jewelled and egretted, sabred and spurred, + priest-robed, representative of all the many cancers eating at the heart + of India. + </p> + <p> + Chanting, clanging, wailing minor dirges to the night, it circled all the + front projections of the palace, turned where a small door opened on a + courtyard at one side, entered, and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh, is it good, my soldier prince and is the wisdom clear, + To guard thy front a thousand strong, while ten may take thy rear? +</pre> + <p> + Now, because it was impregnable to almost anything except a + yet-to-be-invented air-ship, the Alwa-sahib owned a fortress still, + high-perched on a crag that overlooked a glittering expanse of desert. + More precious than its bulk in diamonds, a spring of clear, cold water + from the rock-lined depths of mother earth gushed out through a fissure + near the Summit, and round that spring had been built, in bygone + centuries, a battlemented nest to breed and turn out warriors. Alwa's + grandfather had come by it through complicated bargaining and + dowry-contracts, and Alwa now held it as the rallying-point for the + Rangars thereabout. + </p> + <p> + But its defensibility was practically all the crag fort had to offer by + way of attraction. Down at its foot, where the stream of rushing water + splashed in a series of cascades to the thirsty, sandy earth, there were + an acre or two of cultivation—sufficient, in time of peace, to + support an attenuated garrison and its horses. But for his revenues the + Alwa-sahib had to look many a long day's march afield. Leagues of desert + lay between him and the nearest farm he owned, and since—more in the + East than anywhere—a landlord's chief absorption is the watching of + his rents, it followed that he spent the greater part of his existence in + the saddle, riding from one widely scattered tenant to another. + </p> + <p> + It was luck or fortuitous circumstance—Fate, he would have called + it, had he wasted time to give it name—that brought him along a road + where, many miles from Howrah City, he caught sight of Joanna. Needless to + say, he took no slightest notice of her. + </p> + <p> + Dog-weary, parched, sore-footed, she was hurrying along the burning, sandy + trail that led in the direction of Alwa's fort. The trail was narrow, and + the horsemen whose mounts ambled tirelessly behind Alwa's plain-bred Arab + pressed on past him, to curse the hag and bid her make horse-room for her + betters. She sunk on the sand and begged of them. Laughingly, they asked + her what a coin would buy in all that arid waste. + </p> + <p> + “Have the jackals, then, turned tradesman?” they jeered; but she only + mumbled, and displayed her swollen tongue, and held her hands in an + attitude of pitiful supplication. Then Alwa cantered up—rode past—heard + one of his men jeering—drew rein and wheeled. + </p> + <p> + “Give her water!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + He sat and watched her while she knelt, face upward, and a Rangar poured + lukewarm water from a bottle down her tortured throat. He held it high and + let the water splash, for fear his dignity might suffer should he or the + bottle touch her. Strictly speaking, Rangars have no caste, but they + retain by instinct and tradition many of the Hindoo prejudices. Alwa + himself saw nothing to object to in the man's precaution. + </p> + <p> + “Ask the old crows' meat whither she was running.” + </p> + <p> + “She says she would find the Alwa-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell her I am he.” + </p> + <p> + Joanna fawned and laid her wrinkled forehead in the dust. + </p> + <p> + “Get up!” he growled. “Thy service is dishonor and my ears are deaf to it! + Now, speak! Hast thou a message? Who is it sends a rat to bring me news?” + </p> + <p> + “Ali Partab.” + </p> + <p> + “Soho! And who is Ali Partab? He needs to learn manners. He has come to a + stern school for them!” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib—great one—Prince of swordsmen!—Ali Partab is + Mahommed Gunga-sahib's man. He bid me say that he is held a prisoner in a + bear-cage in Jaimihr's palace and needs aid.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa's black beard dropped onto his chest as he frowned in thought. He had + nine men with him. Jaimihr had by this time, perhaps, as many as nine + thousand, for no one knew but Jaimihr and the priests how many in the + district waited to espouse his cause. The odds seemed about as stupendous + as any that a man of his word had ever been called upon to take. + </p> + <p> + A moment more, and without consulting any one, he bade one of his men + dismount. + </p> + <p> + “Put that hag on thy horse!” he commanded. “Mount thou behind another!” + </p> + <p> + The order was obeyed. Another Rangar took the led horse, and Joanna found + herself, perched like a monkey on a horse that objected to the change of + riders, between two troopers whose iron-thewed legs squeezed hers into the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + “To Howrah City!” ordered Alwa, starting off at an easy, desert-eating + amble; and without a word of comment, but with downward glances at their + swords and a little back-stiffening which was all of excitement that they + deigned to show, his men wheeled three and three behind him. + </p> + <p> + It was no affair of Alwa's that a full moon shone that night—none of + his arranging that on that one night of the month Jaimihr and his most + trusted body-guard should go with the priests and the Maharajah to inspect + the treasure. Alwa was a soldier, born to take instant advantage of chance—sent + opportunity; Jaimihr was a schemer, born to indecision and the cunning + that seeks underhanded means but overlooks the obvious. Because the + streets were full of men whose allegiance was doubtful yet, because he + himself would be too occupied to sit like a spider in a web and watch the + intentions of the crowd unfold, Jaimihr had turned out every retainer to + his name, and had scattered them about the city, with orders, if they were + needed, to rally on a certain point. + </p> + <p> + He did think that at any minute a disturbance might break out which would + lead to civil war, and he saw the necessity for watchfulness at every + point; but he did not see the rather obvious necessity for leaving more + than twenty men on guard inside his palace. Not even the thoughtfulness of + Siva's priests could have anticipated that ten horse-men would be riding + out of nowhere, with the spirit in them that ignores side issues and leads + them only straight to their objective. + </p> + <p> + Alwa, as a soldier, knew exactly where fresh horses could be borrowed + while his tired ones rested. A little way beyond the outskirts of the city + lived a man who was neither Mohammedan nor Hindoo—a fearful man, who + took no sides, but paid his taxes, carried on his business, and behaved—a + Jew, who dealt in horses and in any other animal or thing that could be + bought to show a profit. + </p> + <p> + Alwa had an utterly complete contempt for Jews, as was right and proper in + a Rangar of the blood. He had not met many of them, and those he had had + borne away the memory of most outrageous insult gratuitously offered and + rubbed home. But this particular Jew was a money-lender on occasion, and + his rates had proved as reasonable as his acceptance of Alwa's unwritten + promise had been prompt. A man who holds his given word as sacred as did + Alwa respects, in the teeth of custom or religion, the man who accepts + that word; so, when the chance had offered, Alwa had done the Jew + occasional favors and had won his gratitude. He now counted on the Jew for + fresh horses. + </p> + <p> + To reach him, he had to wade the Howrah River, less than a mile from where + the burning ghats glowed dull crimson against the sky; the crowd around + the ghats was the first intimation he received that the streets might + prove less densely thronged than usual. It was the Jew, beard-scrabbling + and fidgeting among his horses, who reminded him that when the full moon + shone most of the populace, and most of Jaimihr's and Howrah's guards, + would be occupied near Siva's temple and the palace. + </p> + <p> + He left his own horses, groomed again, and gorging their fill of good, + clean grain in the Jew's ramshackle stable place. Joanna he turned loose, + to sneak into any rat-hole that she chose. Then, with their swords drawn—for + if trouble came it would be certain to come suddenly—he and his nine + made a wide-ringed circuit of the city, to a point where the main street + passing Jaimihr's palace ended in a rune of wind-piled desert sand. From + the moment when they reached that point they did not waste a second; + action trod on the heel of thought and thought flashed fast as summer + lightning. + </p> + <p> + They lit through the deserted street, troubling for speed, not silence; + the few whom they passed had no time to determine who they were, and no + one followed them. A few frightened night-wanderers ran at sight of them, + hiding down side streets, but when they brought up at last outside + Jaimihr's palace-gate they had so far escaped recognition. And that meant + that no one would carry word to Jaimihr or his men. + </p> + <p> + It was death-dark outside the bronze-hinged double gate; only a dim lamp + hung above from chains, to show how dark it was, and the moon—cut + off by trees and houses on a bluff of rising ground—lent nothing to + the gloom. + </p> + <p> + “Open! The jaimihr-sahib comes!” shouted Alwa and one of his horsemen + legged up close beside the gate. + </p> + <p> + Some one moved inside, for his footsteps could be heard; whoever he was + appeared to listen cautiously. + </p> + <p> + “Open for the Jaimihr-sahib!” repeated Alwa. + </p> + <p> + Evidently that was not the usual command, or otherwise the gates would + have swung open on the instant. Instead, one gate moved inward by a + fraction of a foot, and a pureed head peered cautiously between the gap. + That, though, was sufficient. With a laugh, the man up closest drove his + sword-hilt straight between the Hindoo's eyes, driving his horse's + shoulder up against the gate; three others spurred and shoved beside him. + Not thirty seconds later Alwa and his nine were striking hoof sparks on + the stone of Jaimihr's courtyard, and the gates—that could have + easily withstood a hundred-man assault with battering-rams—had + clanged behind them, bolted tight against their owner. + </p> + <p> + “Where is the bear cage?” demanded Alwa. “It is a bear I need, not blood!” + </p> + <p> + The dozen left inside to guard the palace had recovered quickly enough + from their panic. They were lining up in the middle of the courtyard, + ready to defend their honor, even if the palace should be lost. It was + barely probable that Jaimihr's temper would permit them the privilege of + dying quickly should he come and find his palace looted; a Rangar's sword + seemed better, and they made ready to die hard. + </p> + <p> + “Where's Ali Partab?” + </p> + <p> + There was no answer. The little crowd drew in, and one by one took up the + fighting attitude that each man liked the best. + </p> + <p> + “I say I did not come for blood! I came for Ali Partab! If I get him, + unharmed, I ride away again; but otherwise—” + </p> + <p> + “What otherwise?” asked the captain of the guard. + </p> + <p> + “This palace burns!” + </p> + <p> + There was a momentary consultation—no argument, but a quickly + reached agreement. + </p> + <p> + “He is here, unharmed,” declared the captain gruffly. + </p> + <p> + “Bring him out!” + </p> + <p> + “What proof have we that he is all you came for?” + </p> + <p> + “My given word.” + </p> + <p> + “But the Jaimihr-sahib—” + </p> + <p> + “You also have my given word that unless I get Ali Partab this palace + burns, with all that there is in it!” + </p> + <p> + Distrustful still, the captain of the guard called out to a sweeper, + skulking in the shadow by the stables to go and loose Ali Partab. + </p> + <p> + “Send no sweepers to him!” ordered Alwa. “He has suffered indignity + enough. Go thou!” + </p> + <p> + The captain of the guard obeyed. Two minutes later Ali Partab stood before + Alwa and saluted. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, my master's thanks!” + </p> + <p> + “They are accepted,” answered Alwa, with almost regal dignity. “Bring a + lamp!” he ordered. + </p> + <p> + One of the guard brought a hand-lantern, and by its light Alwa examined + Ali Partab closely. He was filthy, and his clothing reeked of the + disgusting confinement he had endured. + </p> + <p> + “Give this man clothing fit for a man of mine!” commanded Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, there is none; perhaps the Jaimihr-sahib—” + </p> + <p> + “I have ordered!” + </p> + <p> + There was a movement among Alwa's men—a concerted, + horse-length-forward movement, made terrifying by the darkness—each + man knew well enough that the men they were bullying could fight; success, + should they have to force it at the sword-point, would depend largely on + which side took the other by surprise. + </p> + <p> + “It is done, sahib,” said the leader of the guard, and one man hurried off + to execute the order. Ten minutes later—they were ten impatient + minutes, during which the horses sensed the fever of anxiety and could be + hardly made to stand—Ali Partab stood arrayed in clean, new khaki + that fitted him reasonably well. + </p> + <p> + “A sword, now!” demanded Alwa. “Thy sword! This man had a sword when he + was taken! Give him thine, unless there is a better to be had.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing for it but obedience, for few things were more certain + than that Alwa was not there to waste time asking for anything he would + not fight for if refused. The guard held out his long sword, hilt first, + and Ali Partab strapped it on. + </p> + <p> + “I had three horses when they took me,” he asserted, “three good ones, + sound and swift, belonging to my master.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take three of Jaimihr's!” + </p> + <p> + It took ten minutes more for Ali Partab and two of Alwa's men to search + the stables and bring out the three best chargers of the twenty and more + reserved for Jaimihr's private use. They were wonders of horses, half-Arab + and half-native-bred, clean-limbed and firm—worth more, each one of + them, than all three of Mahommed Gunga's put together. + </p> + <p> + “Are they good enough?” demanded Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “My master will be satisfied,” grinned Ali Partab. + </p> + <p> + “Open the gate, then!” Alwa was peering through the blackness for a sight + of firearms, but could see none. He guessed—and he was right—that + the guard had taken full advantage of their master's absence, and had been + gambling in a corner while their rifles rested under cover somewhere else. + For a second he hesitated, dallying with the notion of disarming the guard + before he left, then decided that a fight was scarcely worth the risking + now, and with ten good men behind him he wheeled and scooted through the + wide-flung gates into outer gloom. + </p> + <p> + He galloped none too fast, for his party was barely out of range before a + ragged volley ripped from the palace-wall; one of his men, hampered and + delayed by a led horse that was trying to break away from him, was + actually hit, and begged Alwa to ride back and burn the palace after all. + He was grumbling still about the honor of a Rangar, when Alwa called a + halt in the shelter of a deserted side street in order to question Ali + Partab further. + </p> + <p> + Ali Partab protested that he did not know what to say or think about the + missionaries. He explained his orders and vowed that his honor held him + there in Howrah until Miss McClean should consent to come away. He did not + mention the father; he was a mere side issue—it was Alwa who asked + after him. + </p> + <p> + “A tick on the belly of an ox rides with the ox,” said Ali Partab. + </p> + <p> + “Lead on, then, to the mission house,” commanded Alwa, and the ten-man + troop proceeded to obey. They had reached the main street again, and were + wheeling into it, when Joanna sprang from gutter darkness and intercepted + them. She was all but ridden down before Ali Partab recognized her. + </p> + <p> + “The mohurs, sahib!” she demanded. “Three golden mohurs!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, three!” said Ali Partab, giving her a hand and yanking her off the + ground. She sprang across his horse's rump behind him, and he seemed to + have less compunction about personal defilement than the others had. + </p> + <p> + “Is she thy wife or thy mother-in-law?” laughed Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib, but my creditor! The mother of confusion tells me that the + Miss-sahib and her father are in Howrah's palace!” + </p> + <p> + They halted, all together in a cluster in the middle of the street—shut + in by darkness—watched for all they knew, by a hundred enemies. + </p> + <p> + “Of their own will or as prisoners?” + </p> + <p> + “As prisoners, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Back to the side street! Quickly! Jaimihr' rat's nest is one affair,” he + muttered; “Howrah' beehive is another!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now, secrets and things of the Councils of Kings + Are deucid expensive to buy, + For it wouldn't look nice if a Councillor's price + Were anything other than high. + Be advised, though, and note that the price they will quote + Is less at each grade you go deeper, + And—(Up on its toes it's the Underworld knows!)— + The cheapest of all is the Sweeper. +</pre> + <p> + JOANNA—when Alwa forgot about her and loosed her to run just where + she chose—had sneaked, down alleys and over roof-tops, straight for + the mission house. She found there nothing but a desultory guard and an + impression, rather than the traces, of an empty cage. About two minutes of + cautious questioning of neighbors satisfied her where the missionaries + were; nothing short of death seemed able to deprive her of ability to flit + like a black bat through the shadows, and the distance to Howrah's palace + was accomplished, by her usual bat's entry route, in less time than a pony + would have taken by the devious street. Before Alwa had thundered on + Jaimihr's gate Joanna had mingled in the crowd outside the palace and was + shrewdly questioning again. + </p> + <p> + She arrived too late to see McClean and his daughter seized; what she did + hear was that they were prisoners, and that the Maharajah, Jaimihr, and + the priests were all of them engaged in the secret ceremony whose + beginning was a monthly spectacle but whose subsequent developments—supposed + to be somewhere in the bowels of the earth—were known only to the + men who held the key. + </p> + <p> + Like a rat running in the wainscot holes, she tried to follow the + procession; like everybody else, she knew the way it took from the palace + gate, and—as few others were—she was aware of a scaling-place + on the outer wall where a huge baobab drooped century-scarred branches + nearly to the ground on either side. The sacred monkeys used that route + and where they went Joanna could contrive to follow. + </p> + <p> + It was another member of the sweeper caste, lurking in the darkness of an + inner courtyard, who pointed out the bronze-barred door to her through + which the treasure guardians had chanted on their way; it was he, too, who + told her that Rosemary McClean and her father had been rushed into the + palace through the main entrance. Also, he informed her that there was no + way—positively no way practicable even for a monkey or a bird—of + following further. He was a sweeper-intimate acquaintance of creeper + ladders, trap-doors, gutters drains, and byways; she realized at once that + there would be no wisdom in attempting to find within an hour what he had + not discovered in a lifetime. + </p> + <p> + So Joanna, her beady eyes glittering between the wrinkled folds of skin, + slunk deeper in a shadow and began to think. She, the looker-on, had seen + the whole play from its first beginning and could judge at least that part + of it which had its bearing on her missionary masters. First, she knew + what Jaimihr's ambition was—every man in Howrah knew how he planned + to seize Miss McClean when the moment should be propitious—and her + Eastern wisdom warned her that Jaimihr, foiled, would stop at nothing to + contrive vengeance. If he could not seize Miss McClean, he would be likely + to use every means within his power to bring about her death and prevent + another from making off with his prize. Jaimihr, then, was the most + pressing danger. + </p> + <p> + Second, as a Hindoo, she knew well how fiendishly the priests loathed the + Christian missionaries; and it was common knowledge that the Maharajah was + cross-hobbled by the priests. The Maharajah was a fearful man, and, unless + the priests and Jaimihr threatened him with a show of combination, there + was a slight chance that he might dread British vengeance too much to dare + permit violence to the McCleans. Possibly he might hold out against the + priests alone; but before an open alliance between Jaimihr and the priests + he would surrender for his own throne's sake. + </p> + <p> + So far Joanna could reason readily enough, for there was a vast fund of + wisdom stored beneath her wrinkled ugliness. But her Eastern limitation + stopped her there. She could not hold loyalty to more than one cause, or + to more than one offshoot of that cause, in the same shrewd head at once. + She decided that at all costs Jaimihr must be out of the way so that the + Maharaja might be left to argue with the priests alone. For the moment no + other thought occurred to her. + </p> + <p> + The means seemed ready to her hand. A peculiarity of the East, which is + democratic in most ways under the veneer of swaggering autocracy, that + servants of the very lowest caste may speak, and argue on occasion, with + men who would shudder at the prospect of defilement from their touch. + There was nothing in the least outrageous in the proposition that the + sweeper, waiting in a corner for the procession to emerge again so that he + might curl on his mat and sleep undisturbed when it had gone, should dare + to approach Jaimihr and address him. He would run no small risk of being + beaten by the guards; but, on the other hand, should he catch jaimihr's + ear and interest him, he would be safe. + </p> + <p> + “Wouldst thou win Jaimihr's favor?” asked Joanna, creeping up beside him, + and whispering with all the suggestiveness she could assume. + </p> + <p> + “Who would not? Who knows that within week he will not be ruler?” + </p> + <p> + “True. I have a message for him. I must hurry back. Deliver it for me.” + </p> + <p> + “What would be the nature of the message?” + </p> + <p> + “This. His prisoner is gone. A raid has taken place. In his absence, while + his men patrolled the city, certain Rangars broke into his palace—looted—and + prepared to burn. Bid him hurry back with all the men he can collect.” + </p> + <p> + “From whom is this message?” + </p> + <p> + “From the captain of the guard.” + </p> + <p> + “And I am to deliver it? Thou dodderest! Mother of a murrain, have I not + trouble sufficient for one man? Who bears bad news to a prince, or to any + but his enemy? I—with these two eyes—I saw what happened to + the men who bore bad news to Howrah once. I—with this broom of mine—I + helped clean up the mess. Deliver thine own message!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay. Afterward I will say this—to the Jaimihr-sahib in person. + There is one, I will tell him, a sweeper in the palace, who refused to + bear tidings when the need was great.” + </p> + <p> + “If his palace is burned and his wealth all ashes, who cares what Jaimihr + hears?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no glow yet in the sky,” said Joanna looking up. “The palace is + not yet in flames; they loot still.” + </p> + <p> + “What if it be not true?” + </p> + <p> + “Will Jaimihr not be glad?” + </p> + <p> + “Glad to see me, the bearer of false news, impaled—or crushed + beneath an elephant—ay—glad, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “The reward, were the Jaimihr-sahib warned in time, would be a great one.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, why waitest thou not to have word with him. Art thou above + rewards?” + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear! He will know in good time who it was brought thee the + news.” + </p> + <p> + They argued for ten minutes, Joanna threatening and coaxing and promising + rewards, until at last the man consented. It was the thought, thoroughly + encouraged by Joanna, that the penalty for not speaking would be greater + than the beating he might get for bearing evil news that at last convinced + him; and it was not until she had won him over and assured herself that he + would not fail that it dawned on Joanna just what an edged tool she was + playing with. While getting rid of Jaimihr, she was endangering the + liberty and life of Alwa—the one man able to do anything for the + McCleans! + </p> + <p> + That thought sent her scooting over housetops, diving down dark alleyways, + racing, dodging, hiding, dashing on again, and brought her in the nick of + time to a ditch, from whose shelter she sprang and seized the hand of Ali + Partab. That incident, and her intimation that the missionaries were in + Howrah's palace, took Alwa back up the black, blind side street; and + before he emerged from it he saw Jaimihr and his ten go thundering past, + their eyes on the sky-line for a hint of conflagration, and their horses—belly-to-the-earth—racing + as only fear, or enthusiasm, or grim desperation in their riders' minds + can make them race. + </p> + <p> + A little later, in groups and scattered fours, and one by one, his + heavy-breathing troopers followed, cursing the order that had sent them + abroad with-out their horses, damning—as none but a dismounted + cavalryman can damn—the earth's unevenness, their swords, their + luck, their priests, the night, their boots, and Jaimihr. Forewarned, Alwa + held on down the pitch-dark side street, into whose steep-sided chasm the + moon's rays would not reach for an hour or two to come, and once again he + led his party in a sweeping, wide-swung circle, loose-reined and swifter + than the silent night wind—this time for Howrah's palace. There was + his given word, plighted to Mahommed Gunga, to redeem. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ha! my purse may be lean, but my 'scutcheon is clean, + And I'm backed by a dozen true men; + I've a sword to my name, and a wrist for the same; + Can a king frown fear into me, then? +</pre> + <p> + IT is the privilege of emperors, and kings and princes, that—however + little real authority they have, or however much their power is undermined + by men behind the throne—they must be accorded dignity. They must + be, on the face of things, obeyed. + </p> + <p> + Inspection of the treasure finished and an hour-long mummery of rites + performed, the thirty wound their way, chanting, in single file back + again. The bronze-enforced door, that was only first of half a hundred + barriers between approach and the semi-sacred hoard, at last clanged shut + and was locked with three locks, each of whose individual keys was in the + keeping of a separate member of the three—Maharajah, Prince, and + priest. The same keys fitted every door of the maze—made passages, + but no one door would open without all three. + </p> + <p> + Speaking like an omen from the deepest shadow, the sweeper called to + Jaimihr. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, thy palace burns! Sahib, thy prisoner runs! Haste, sahib! Call thy + men and hasten back! Thy palace is in flames—the Rangars come to—” + </p> + <p> + As a raven, disturbed into night omen-croaking, he sent forth his news + from utter blackness into nerve-strung tension. No one member of the + thirty but was on the alert for friction or sudden treachery; the were all + eyes for each other, and the croaking fell on ears strained to the aching + point. He had time to repeat his warning before one of Jaimihr's men + stepped into the darkness where he hid and dragged him out. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, a woman came but now and brought the news. It was from the captain + of the guard. The Rangars came to take their man away. They broke in. They + burn. They loot. They—” + </p> + <p> + But Jaimihr did not wait another instant to hear the rest. To him this + seemed like the scheming of his brother. Now he imagined he could read + between the lines! That letter sent to Alwa had been misreported to him, + and had been really a call to come and free the prisoner and wreak Rangar + vengeance! He understood! But first he must save his palace, if it could + be saved. The priests must have deceived him, so he wasted no time in + arguing with them; he ran, with his guards behind him, to the outer wall + of Siva's temple where the horses waited, each with a saice squatting at + his head. The saices were sent scattering among the crowd to give the + alarm and send the rest of his contingent hurrying back; Jaimihr and his + ten drove home their spurs, and streaked, as the frightened jackal runs + when a tiger interrupts them at their worry, hell-bent-for-leather up the + unlit street. + </p> + <p> + Then Maharajah Howrah's custom-accorded dignity stood him in good stead. + It flashed across his worried brain that space had been given him by the + gods in which to think. Jaimihr—one facet of the problem and perhaps + the sharpest—would have his hands full for a while, and the priests—wish + how they would—would never dare omit the after-ritual in Siva's + temple. He—untrammelled for an hour to come—might study out a + course to take and hold with those embarrassing prisoners of his. + </p> + <p> + He turned—updrawn in regal stateliness—and intimated to the + high priest that the ceremony might proceed without him. When the priests + demurred and murmured, he informed them that he would be pleased to give + them audience when the ritual was over, and without deigning another + argument he turned through a side door into the palace. + </p> + <p> + Within ten minutes he was seated in his throne-room. One minute later his + prisoners stood in front of him, still holding each other's hands, and the + guard withdrew. The great doors opening on the marble outer hall clanged + tight, and in this room there were no carved screens through which a + hidden, rustling world might listen. There was gold-incrusted splendor—there + were glittering, hanging ornaments that far outdid the peacocks' feathers + of the canopy above the throne; but the walls were solid, and the marble + floor rang hard and true. + </p> + <p> + There was no nook or corner anywhere that could conceal a man. For a + minute, still bejewelled in his robes of state and glittering as the + diamonds in his head-dress caught the light from half a dozen hanging + lamps, the Maharajah sat and gazed at them, his chin resting on one hand + and his silk-clad elbow laid on the carved gold arm of his throne. + </p> + <p> + “Why am I troubled?” he demanded suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “You know!” said the missionary. His daughter clutched his hand tightly, + partly to reassure him, partly because she knew that a despot would be + bearded now in his gold-bespattered den, and fear gripped her. + </p> + <p> + “Maharajah-sahib, when I came here with letters from the government of + India and asked you for a mission house in which to live and work, I told + you that I came as a friend—as a respectful sympathizer. I told you + I would not incite rebellion against you, and that I would not interfere + with native custom or your authority so long as acquiescence and obedience + by me did not run counter to the overriding law of the British + Government.” + </p> + <p> + Howrah did not even move his head in token that he listened, but his tired + eyes answered. + </p> + <p> + “To that extent I promised not to interfere with your religion.” + </p> + <p> + Howrah nodded. + </p> + <p> + “Once—twice—in all nine times—I came and warned you that + the practice of suttee was and is illegal. My knowledge of Sanskrit is + only slight, but there are others of my race who have had opportunity to + translate the Sanskrit Vedas, and I have in writing what they found in + them. I warned you, when that information reached me, that your priests + have been deliberately lying to you—that the Vedas say: + 'Thrice-blessed is she who dies of a broken heart because her lord and + master leaves her.' They say nothing, absolutely nothing, about suttee or + its practice, which from the beginning has been a damnable invention of + the priests. But the practice of suttee has continued. I have warned the + government frequently, in writing, but for reasons which I do not profess + to understand they have made no move as yet. For that reason, and for no + other, I have tried to be a thorn in your side, and will continue to try + to be until this suttee ceases!” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” demanded Howrah, “since you are a foreigner with neither influence + nor right, do you stay here and behold what you cannot change? Does a + snake lie sleeping on an ant-hill? Does a woman watch the butchering of + lambs? Yet, do ant-hills cease to be, and are lambs not butchered? Look + the other way! Sleep softer in another place!” + </p> + <p> + “I am a prisoner. For months past my daughter and I have been prisoners to + all intents and purposes, and you, Maharajah-sahib, have known it well. + Now, the one man who was left to be our escort to another place is a + prisoner, too. You know that, too. And you ask me why I stay! Suppose you + answer?” + </p> + <p> + Rosemary squeezed his hand again, this time less to restrain him than + herself. She was torn between an inclination to laugh at the daring or + shiver at the indiscretion of taking to task a man whose one word could + place them at the mercy of the priests of Siva, or the mob. But Duncan + McClean, a little bowed about the shoulders, peered through his spectacles + and waited—quite unawed by all the splendor—for the + Maharajah's answer. + </p> + <p> + “Of what man do you speak?” asked Howrah, still undecided what to do with + them, and anxious above all things to disguise his thoughts. “What man is + a prisoner, and how do you know it?” + </p> + <p> + Before McClean had time to answer him, a spear haft rang on the great teak + double door. There was a pause, and the clang repeated—another pause—a + third reverberating, humming metal notice of an interruption, and the + doors swung wide. A Hindoo, salaaming low so that the expression of his + face could not be seen, called out down the long length of the hall. + </p> + <p> + “The Alwa-sahib waits, demanding audience!” There was no change apparent + on Howrah's face. His fingers tightened on the jewelled cimeter that + protruded, silk-sashed, from his middle, but neither voice nor eyes nor + lips betrayed the least emotion. It was the McCleans whose eyes blazed + with a new-born hope, that was destined to be dashed a second later. + </p> + <p> + “Has he guards with him?” + </p> + <p> + “But ten, Maharajah-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Then remove these people to the place where they were, and afterward + admit him—without his guards!” + </p> + <p> + “I demand permission to speak with this Alwa-sahib!” said McClean. + </p> + <p> + “Remove them!” + </p> + <p> + Two spear-armed custodians of the door advanced. Resistance was obviously + futile. Still holding his daughter's hand, the missionary let himself be + led to the outer hall and down a corridor, where, presently, a six-inch + door shut prisoners and guards even from sound of what transpired beyond. + </p> + <p> + Alwa, swaggering until his long spurs jingled like a bunch of keys each + time his boot-heels struck the marble floor, strode straight as a soldier + up to the raised throne dais—took no notice whatever of the sudden + slamming of the door behind him—looked knife-keenly into Howrah's + eyes—and saluted with a flourish. + </p> + <p> + “I come from bursting open Jaimihr's buzzard roost!” he intimated mildly. + “He held a man of mine. I have the man.” + </p> + <p> + Merely to speak first was insolence; but that breach of etiquette was + nothing to his manner and his voice. It appeared that he was so utterly + confident of his own prowess that he could afford to speak casually; he + did not raise his voice or emphasize a word. He was a man of his word, + relating facts, and every line of his steel-thewed anatomy showed it. + </p> + <p> + “I sent a letter to you, by horseman, with a present,” said Howrah. “I + await the answer.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa's eyes changed, and his attention stiffened. Not having been at home, + he knew nothing of the letter, but he did not choose to acknowledge the + fact. The principle that one only shares the truth with friends is good, + when taken by surprise. + </p> + <p> + “I preferred to have confirmation of the matter from the Maharajah's lips + in person, so—since I had this other matter to attend to—I + combined two visits in one trip.” + </p> + <p> + He lied, as he walked and fought, like a soldier, and the weary man who + watched him from the throne detected no false ring. + </p> + <p> + “I informed you that I had extended my protection to the two missionaries, + man and daughter.” + </p> + <p> + “You did. Also, you did well.” He tossed that piece of comfort to the + despot as a man might throw table scraps to a starveling dog! “I have come + to take away the missionaries.” + </p> + <p> + “With a guard of ten!” + </p> + <p> + It was the first admission of astonishment that either man had made. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not aware that Jaimihr, too, has eyes on the woman?” + </p> + <p> + “I am aware of it. I have shown Jaimihr how deep my fear of him lies! I + know, too, how deep the love lies between thee and thy brother, king of + Howrah! I am here to remind you that many more than ten men would race + their horses to a stand-still to answer my summons—brave men, + Maharajah-sahib—men whose blades are keen, and straightly held, and + true. They who would rally round me against Jaimihr would—” + </p> + <p> + “Would fight for me?” + </p> + <p> + “I have not yet said so.” There was a little, barely accentuated emphasis + on the one word “yet.” The Maharajah thought a minute before he answered. + </p> + <p> + “How many mounted troopers could you raise?” + </p> + <p> + “Who knows? A thousand—three thousand—according to the + soreness of the need.” + </p> + <p> + “You have heard—I know that you have heard—what, even at this + minute, awaits the British? I know, for I have taken care to know, that a + cousin of yours—Mahommed Gunga—is interested for the British. + So—so I am interested to have word with you.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa laughed ironically. + </p> + <p> + “And the tiger asked the wolf pack where good hunting was!” he mocked. “I + and my men strike which way suits us when the hour comes.” + </p> + <p> + “My palace has many chambers in it!” hinted Howrah. “There have been men + who wondered what the light of day was like, having long ago forgotten!” + </p> + <p> + “Make me prisoner!” laughed Alwa. “Count then the hours until three + thousand blades join Jaimihr and help him grease the dungeon hinges with + thy fat!” + </p> + <p> + “Having looted Jaimihr's palace, you speak thus?” + </p> + <p> + “Having whipped a dog, I wait for the dog to lick my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your purpose with these missionaries?” + </p> + <p> + “To redeem my given word.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “I would be free to pledge it again.” + </p> + <p> + “To me?” + </p> + <p> + “To whom I choose.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give thee the missionaries, against thy word to fight on my side + when the hour comes.” + </p> + <p> + “Against whom?” + </p> + <p> + “The British.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no quarrel with the British, yet.” + </p> + <p> + “I will give thee the missionaries, against thy word to support me on this + throne.” + </p> + <p> + “Against whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Against all comers.” + </p> + <p> + “If I refuse, what then?” + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr—who by this time must surely be thy very warmest friend!—shall + attack thee unmolested. Pledge thy word—take thy missionary people—and + Jaimihr must oppose thee and me combined.” + </p> + <p> + “Should Jaimihr ride after me, what then?” + </p> + <p> + “If he takes many with him, he must leave his camp unguarded, or only + weakly guarded. Then I would act. If he goes with few, how can he take thy + castle?” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have your protection against Jaimihr, and the missionaries, + against my promise to support you on the throne?” + </p> + <p> + “My word on it.” + </p> + <p> + “And mine.” + </p> + <p> + Howrah rose, stepped forward to the dais edge, and held his hand out. + </p> + <p> + “Nay!” swore Alwa, recoiling. “My word is given. I take no Hindoo's hand!” + </p> + <p> + Howrah glared for a moment, but thought better of the hot retort that rose + to his lips. Instead he struck a silver gong, and when the doors swung + open ordered the prisoners to be produced. + </p> + <p> + “Escape through the palace-grounds,” he advised Alwa. “A man of mine will + show the way.” + </p> + <p> + “Remember!” said Alwa across his shoulder with more than royal insolence, + “I swore to help thee against Jaimihr and to support thee on thy throne—but + in nothing did I swear to be thy tool—remember!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Howrah City bows the knee + (More or less) to masters three, + King, and Prince, and Siva. + Howrah City comes and goes— + Buys and sells—and never knows + Which is friend, and which are foes— + King, or Prince, or Siva. +</pre> + <p> + THAT that followed Alwa's breakaway was all but the tensest hour in Howrah + City's history. The inevitable—the foiled rage of the priests and + Jaimihr's impudent insistence that the missionaries should be handed over + to him—the Maharajah's answer—all combined to set the + murmurings afoot. Men said that the threatened rebellion against the rule + of Britain had broken loose at last, and a dozen other quite as false and + equally probable things. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr, finding that his palace was intact, and that only the prisoner + and three horses from his stable were missing, placed the whole guard + under arrest—stormed futilely, while his hurrying swarm flocked to + him through the dinning streets—and then, mad-angry and made + reckless by his rage, rode with a hundred at his back to Howrah's palace, + scattering the bee-swarm of inquisitive but so far peaceful citizens right + and left. + </p> + <p> + With little ceremony, he sent in word to Howrah that he wanted Alwa and + the missionaries; he stated that his private honor was at stake, and that + he would stop at nothing to wreak vengeance. He wanted the man who had + dared invade his palace—the man whom he had released—and the + two who were the prime cause of the outrage. And with just as little + ceremony word came out that the Maharajah would please himself as to what + he did with prisoners. + </p> + <p> + That message was followed almost instantly by the high priest of Siva in + person, angry as a turkey-gobbler and blasphemously vindictive. He it was + who told Jaimihr of the unexpected departure through the palace-grounds. + </p> + <p> + “Ride, Jaimihr-sahib! Ride!” he advised him. + </p> + <p> + “How many have you? A hundred? Plenty! Ride and cut him off! There is but + one road to Alwa's place; he must pass by the northern ford through Howrah + River. Ride and cut him off!” + </p> + <p> + So, loose-reined, foam-flecked, breathing vengeance, Jaimihr and his + hundred thundered through the dark hot night, making a bee-line for the + point where Alwa's band must pass in order to take the shortest route to + safety. + </p> + <p> + It was his word to the Jew that saved Alwa's neck. He and his men were + riding borrowed horses, and he had promised to return them and reclaim his + own. They had moved at a walk through winding, dark palace-alleys, led by + a palace attendant, and debouched through a narrow door that gave barely + horse-room into the road where Jaimihr had once killed a Maharati trader + who molested Rosemary McClean. The missionary and his daughter were + mounted on the horses seized in Jaimihr's stable; Joanna, moaning about + “three gold mohurs, sahib—three, where are they?” was up behind Ali + Partab, tossed like a pea on a drum-skin by the lunging movements of the + wonder of a horse. + </p> + <p> + Instead of heading straight for home, in which case—although he did + not know it—he would have been surely overhauled and brought to bay, + he led at a stiff hand gallop to the Jew's, changed horses, crossed the + ford by the burning ghats, and swooped in a wide half-circle for the sandy + trail that would take him homeward. He made the home road miles beyond the + point where Jaimihr waited for him—drew rein into the long-striding + amble that desert-taught horses love—and led on, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” He laughed. “Ho-ho! Here, then, is the end of Mahommed Gunga's + scheming! Now, when he comes with arguments to make me fight on the + British side, what a tale I have for him! Ho! What a swearing there will + be! I will give him his missionary people, and say, 'There, Mahommed + Gunga, cousin mine, there is my word redeemed—there is thy man into + the bargain—there are three horses for thee—and I—I am + at Howrah's beck and call!' Allah! What a swearing there will be!” + </p> + <p> + There was swearing, viler and more blasphemous than any of which Mahommed + Gunga might be capable, where Jaimihr waited in the dark. He waited until + the yellow dawn broke up the first dim streaks of violet before he + realized that Alwa had given him the slip; and he cursed even the high + priest of Siva when that worthy accosted him and asked what tidings. + </p> + <p> + “Another trick!” swore Jaimihr. “So, thou and thy temple rats saw fit to + send me packing for the night! What devils' tricks have been hatched out + in my absence?” + </p> + <p> + The high priest started to protest, but Jaimihr silenced him with + coarse-mouthed threats. + </p> + <p> + “I, too, can play double when occasion calls for it!” he swore. And with + that hint at coming trouble he clattered on home to his palace. + </p> + <p> + To begin with, when he reached home, he had the guard beaten all but + unconscious for having dared let raiders in during the night before; then + he sent them, waterless and thirsty, back to the dungeon. He felt better + then, and called for ink and paper. + </p> + <p> + For hours he thought and wrote alternately, tearing up letter after + letter. Then, at last, he read over a composition that satisfied him and + set his seal at the foot. He placed the whole in a silver tube, poured wax + into the joint, and called for the fat man who had been responsible for + Ali Partab's capture. + </p> + <p> + “Dog!” he snarled. “Interfering fool! All this was thy doing! Didst thou + see the guard beaten awhile ago?” + </p> + <p> + “I did. It was a lordly beating. The men are all but dead but will live + for such another one.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldst thou be so beaten?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I prevent, if your highness wishes?” + </p> + <p> + “Take this. It is intended for Peshawur but may be given to any British + officer above the rank of major. It calls for a receipt. Do not dare come + back, or be caught in Howrah City, without a receipt for that tube and its + contents intact!” + </p> + <p> + “If Alwa and Mahommed Gunga are in league with my brother,” muttered + Jaimihr to himself when the fat Hindoo had gone, “then the sooner the + British quarrel with both of them the better. Howrah alone I can dispose + of easily enough, and there is yet time before rebellion starts for the + British to spike the guns of the other two. By the time that is done, I + will be Maharajah!” + </p> + <p> + It was less than three days later when the word came mysteriously through + the undiscoverable “underground” route of India for all men to be ready. + </p> + <p> + “By the next full moon,” went the message, from the priests alone knew + where, “all India will be waiting. When the full moon rises then the hour + is come!” + </p> + <p> + “And when that full moon rises,” thought Jaimihr to himself, “my brother's + funeral rites will be past history!” + </p> + <p> + For the present, though, he made believe to regret his recent rage, and + was courteous to priest and Maharajah alike—even sending to his + brother to apologize. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + They've called thee by an evil word, + They've named thee traitor, friend o' mine. + Thou askest faith? I send my sword. + There is no greater, friend o' mine. +</pre> + <p> + RALPH CUNNINGHAM said good-by to Brigadier-General Byng (Byng the + Brigadier) with more feeling of regret and disappointment than he cared to + show. A born soldier, he did his hard-mouthed utmost to refrain from + whining; he even pretended that a political appointment was a recognizable + advance along the road to sure success—or, rather, pretended that he + thought it was; and the Brigadier, who knew men, and particularly young + men, detected instantly the telltale expression of the honest gray eyes—analyzed + it—and, to Cunningham's amazement, approved the unwilling + make-believe. + </p> + <p> + “Now, buck up, Cunningham!” he said, slapping him familiarly on the + shoulder. “You're making a good, game effort to hide chagrin, and you're a + good, game ass for your pains. There isn't one man in all India who has + half your luck at this minute, if you only knew it; but go ahead and find + out for yourself! Go to Abu and report, but waste no more time there than + you can help. Hurry on to Howrah, and once you're there, if Mahommed Gunga + tells you what looks like a lie, trust him to the hilt!” + </p> + <p> + “Is he coming with me, then?” asked Cunningham in some amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—unofficially. He has relations in that neighborhood and wants + to visit them; he is going to take advantage of your pack-train and + escort. You'll have a small escort as far as Abu; after that you'll be + expected to look out for yourself. The escort is made up of details + travelling down-country; they'll leave you at Abu Road.” + </p> + <p> + So, still unbelieving—still wondering why the Brigadier should go to + all that trouble to convince him that politics in a half-forgotten native + state were fair meat for a soldier—Cunningham rode off at the head + of a variously made-up travelling party, grudging every step of that + wonderful mare Mahommed Gunga had given him, that bore him away from the + breeze-swept north—away from the mist-draped hills he had already + learned to love—ever down, down, down into the hell-baked plains. + </p> + <p> + Each rest-house where he spent a night was but another brooding-place of + discontent and regret, each little petty detail connected with the command + of the motley party (mainly time-expired men, homeward bound), was + drudgery; each Hindoo pugree that he met was but a beastly contrast, or so + it seemed to him, to the turbans of the troop that but a week ago had + thundered at his back. + </p> + <p> + More than any other thing, Mahommed Gunga's cheerfulness amazed him. He + resented it. He did not see why the man who had expressed such interest in + the good fortune of his father's son should not be sympathetic now that + his soldier career had been nipped so early in the bud. He began to lose + faith in Mahommed Gunga's wisdom, and was glad when the ex-Risaldar chose + to bring up the rear of the procession instead of riding by his side. + </p> + <p> + But behind, in Peshawur, there was one man at least who knew Mahommed + Gunga and his worth, and who refused to let himself be blinded by any sort + of circumstantial evidence. The evidence was black—in black on white—written + by a black-hearted schemer, and delivered by a big, fat black man, who was + utterly road-weary, to the commissioner in person. + </p> + <p> + The sepoy mutiny that had been planned so carefully had started to take + charge too soon. News had arrived of native regiments whose officers had + been obliged against their will to disarm and disband them, and the + loyalty of other regiments was seriously called in question. + </p> + <p> + But the men whose blindness was responsible for the possibility of mutiny + were only made blinder by the evidence of coming trouble. With a dozen + courses open to them, any one of which might have saved the situation, + they deliberately chose a thirteenth—two-forked toboggan-slide into + destruction. To prove their misjudged confidence in the native army, they + actually disbanded the irregulars led by Byng the Brigadier—removed + the European soldiers wherever possible from ammunition-magazine + guard-duty, replacing them with native companies—and reprimanded the + men whose clear sight showed them how events were shaping. + </p> + <p> + They reprimanded Byng, as though depriving him of his command were not + enough. When he protested, as he had a right to do, they showed him + Jaimihr's letter. + </p> + <p> + “Mahommed Gunga told you, did he? Look at this!” + </p> + <p> + The letter, most concisely and pointedly written, considering the indirect + phraseology and caution of the East, deliberately accused Mahommed Gunga + and a certain Alwa, together with all the Rangars of a whole province, of + scheming with Maharajah Howrah to overthrow the British rule. It + recommended the immediate arrest of Mahommed Gunga and stern measures + against the Rangars. + </p> + <p> + “What do you propose to do about it?” inquired Byng. + </p> + <p> + “It's out of our province. A copy of this letter has been sent to the + proper quarter, and no doubt the story will be investigated. There have + been all kinds of stories about suttee being practised in Howrah, and it + very likely won't be difficult to find a plausible excuse for deposing the + Maharajah and putting Jaimihr in his place. In the meantime, if Mahommed + Gunga shows himself in these parts he'll be arrested.” + </p> + <p> + Byng did then the sort of thing that was fortunately characteristic of the + men who rose in the nick of time to seize the reins. He hurried to his + quarters, packed in its case the sword of honor that had once been given + him by his Queen, and despatched it without a written line of comment to + Mahommed Gunga. The native who took it was ordered to ride like the devil, + overtake Mahommed Gunga on the road to Abu, present the sword without + explanation, and return. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham, in spite of himself, had travelled swiftly. The moon lacked + two nights of being full and two more days would have seen him climbing up + the fourteen-mile rock road that leads up the purple flanks of Abu, when + the ex-trooper of Irregulars cantered from a dust cloud, caught up + Mahommed Gunga, who was riding, as usual, in the rear, and handed him the + sword. He held it out with both hands. Mahommed Gunga seized it by the + middle, and neither said a word for the moment. + </p> + <p> + In silence Mahommed Gunga drew the blade—saw Byng's name engraved + close to the hilt—recognized the sword, and knew the sender—thought—and + mistook the meaning. + </p> + <p> + “Was there no word?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + “Then take this word back. 'I will return the sword, with honor added to + it, when the peace of India is won.' Say that, and nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + “I would rest my horse for a day or two,” said the trooper. + </p> + <p> + “Neither thou nor yet thy horse will have much rest this side of Eblis!” + said Mahommed Gunga. “Ride!” + </p> + <p> + The trooper wheeled and went with a grin and a salute which he repeated + twice, leaning back from the saddle for a last look at the man of his own + race whom Byng had chosen to exalt. He felt himself honored merely to have + carried the sword. Mahommed Gunga removed his own great sabre and handed + it to one of his own five whom he overtook; then he buckled on the sword + of honor and spurred until he rode abreast of Cunningham, a hundred yards + or more ahead of the procession. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib,” he asked, “did Byng-bahadur say a word or two about listening to + me?” + </p> + <p> + “He did. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I will now say things!” + </p> + <p> + The fact that the Brigadier had sent no message other than the sword was + probably the Rajput's chief reason for talking in riddles still to + Cunningham. The silence went straight to his Oriental heart—so to + speak, set the key for him to play to. But he knew, too, that Cunningham's + youth would be a handicap should it come to argument; what he was looking + for was not a counsellor or some one to make plans, for the plans had all + been laid and cross-laid by the enemy, and Mahommed Gunga knew it. He + needed a man of decision—to be flung blindfold into unexpected and + unexpecting hell wrath, who would lead, take charge, decide on the + instant, and lead the way out again, with men behind him who would + recognize decision when they saw it. So he spoke darkly. He understood + that the sword meant “Things have started,” so with a soldier's courage he + proceeded to head Cunningham toward the spot where hell was loose. + </p> + <p> + “Say ahead!” smiled Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “Yonder, sahib, lies Abu. Yonder to the right lies thy road now, not + forward.” + </p> + <p> + “I have orders to report at Abu.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, sahib, orders to advise!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you advising me to disobey orders?” + </p> + <p> + The Rajput hesitated. “Sahib, have I anything to gain,” he asked, “by + offering the wrong advice?” + </p> + <p> + “I can't imagine so.” + </p> + <p> + “I advise, now, that we—thou and I, sahib, and my five turn off here—yonder, + where the other trail runs—letting the party proceed to Abu without + us.” + </p> + <p> + “But why, Mahommed Gunga?” + </p> + <p> + “There is need of haste, sahib. At Abu there will be delay—much talk + with Everton-sahib, and who knows?—perhaps cancellation of the plan + to send thee on to Howrah.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd be damned glad, Mahommed Gunga, not to have to go there!” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, look! What is this I wear?” + </p> + <p> + “Which?” + </p> + <p> + “See here, sahib—this.” + </p> + <p> + For the first time Cunningham noticed the fine European workmanship on the + sword-hilt, and realized that the Rajput's usual plain, workmanlike weapon + had been replaced. + </p> + <p> + “That is Byng-bahadur's sword of honor! It reached me a few minutes ago. + The man who brought it is barely out of sight. It means, sahib, that the + hour to act is come!” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib—this sending thee to Howrah is my doing? Since the day when I + first heard that the son of Pukka Cunnigan-bahadur was on his way I have + schemed and planned and contrived to this end. It was at word from me that + Byng-bahadur signed the transfer papers—otherwise he would have kept + thee by him. There are owls—old women—men whom Allah has + deprived of judgment—drunkards—fools—in charge at + Peshawur and in other places; but there are certain men who know. + Byng-bahadur knows. I know—and I will show the way! Let me lead, + sahib, for a little while, and I will show thee what to lead!” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Does this sword, sahib, mean nothing? Did Byng-bahadur send it me for + fun?” + </p> + <p> + “But what's the idea? I can't disobey orders, and ride off to—God + knows where—without some excuse. You'll have to tell me why. What's + the matter? What's happening?” + </p> + <p> + “Byng-bahadur sent not one word to me when he sent this sword. To thee he + said: 'Listen to Mahommed Gunga, even when he seems to lie!' I know that, + for he told me he had said it. To me he said: 'Take charge, Mahommed + Gunga, when the hour comes, and rub his innocent young nose hard as you + like into the middle of the mess!' Ay, sahib, so said he. It is now that I + take charge.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “'But,' said the nylghau, and the wolf-pack had him! 'But,' said the + tiger, and the trap door shut! 'But,' said the Hindoo, and a priest + betrayed him! But—but—but—I never knew thy father make + much use of that word!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes—but—I have my orders, Mahommed Gunga!” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib—this sword is a sword of honor—it stands for + Byng-bahadur's honor. I have it in my keeping. Mine own honor is a matter + somewhat dear to me, and I have kept it clean these many years. Now I ask + to keep thine honor, too, awhile—making three men's honor. If I + fail, then thou and I and Byng-bahadur all go down together in good + company. If I fail not, then, sahib—Allah is contented when his + honor stands!” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham drew rein and looked him in the eyes. Gray eyes met brown and + neither flinched; each read what men of mettle only can read when they see + it—the truth, the fearlessness, the thought they understand because + it lives with them. Cunningham held out his hand. + </p> + <p> + Some thirty minutes later Cunningham, Mahommed Gunga, and the five, with a + much-diminished mule-train bumping in their wake, were headed westward on + a dry, hot trail, while the time-expired and convalescent escort plodded + south. The escort carried word that Cunningham had heard of trouble to the + west, and had turned off to investigate it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Quoth little red jackal, famishing, “Lo, + Yonder a priest and a soldier go; + You can see farthest, and you ought to know,— + Which shall I wander with, carrion crow?” + The crow cawed back at him, “Ignorant beast! + Soldiers get glory, but none of the feast; + Soldiers work hardest, and snaffle the least. + Take my advice on it—Follow the priest!” + </pre> + <p> + IT was two hours after sunrise on the second day that followed + Cunningham's desertion of his party when he and Mahommed Gunga first + caught sight of a blue, baked rock rising sheer out of a fringe of green + on the dazzling horizon. It was a freak of nature—a point pushed + through the level crust of bone-dry earth, and left to glitter there + alone. + </p> + <p> + “That is my cousin Alwa's place!” exclaimed Mahommed Gunga, and he seemed + to draw a world of consolation from the fact. + </p> + <p> + The sight loosed his tongue at last; he rode by Cunningham, and deigned an + explanation now, at least, of what had led to what might happen. He wasted + little breath on prophecy, but he was eloquent in building up a basis from + which Cunningham might draw his own deductions. They had ridden through + the cool of the night in easy stages, and should have camped at dawn; but + Mahommed Gunga had insisted that the tired animals could carry them for + three hours longer. + </p> + <p> + “A soldier's horse must rest at the other end sahib,” he had laughed. “Who + knows that they have not sent from Abu to arrest both thee and me?” And he + had not vouchsafed another word until, over the desert glare, his cousin's + aerie had blazed out, beating back the molten sun-rays. + </p> + <p> + “It looks hotter than the horns of hell!” said Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “The horns of hell, sahib, are what we leave behind us! They grow hot now! + Thy countrymen—the men who hated thee so easily—heated them + and sit now between them for their folly!” + </p> + <p> + “How d'you mean? 'Pon my soul and honor, Risaldar, you talk more riddles + in five minutes than I ever heard before in all my life!” + </p> + <p> + “There be many riddles I have not told yet—riddles of which I do not + know the answer. Read me this one. Why did the British Government annex + the state of Oudh? All the best native soldiers came from Oudh, or nearly + all. They were loyal once; but can a man be fairly asked to side against + his own? If Oudh should rise in rebellion, what would the soldiers do?” + </p> + <p> + “Dunno, I'm sure,” said Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “Read me this one, then. By pacifying both Mohammedan and Hindoo and by + letting both keep their religion, by sometimes playing one against the + other and by being just, the British Government has become supreme from + the Himalayas to the ocean. Can you tell me why they now issue cartridges + for the new rifles that are soaked in the fat of cows and pigs, thus + insulting both Mohammedan and Hindoo?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn't know it was so.” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, it is! These damned new cartridges and this new drill-sahib, I—I + who am loyal to the marrow of my bones—would no more touch those + cartridges—nor bite them, as the drill decrees—than I would + betray thee! Pig's fat! Ugh!” + </p> + <p> + He spat with Mohammedan eloquence and wiped his lips on his tunic sleeve + before resuming. + </p> + <p> + “Then, like a flint and steel, to light the train that they have laid, + they loose these missionaries, in a swarm, from one end of India to the + other. Why? What say one and all? Mohammedan and Hindoo both say it is a + plot, first to make them lose their own religion by defilement, then to + make Christians of them! Foolishness to talk thus? Nay! It was foolishness + to act thus! + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, peace follows in the wake of soldiers, as we know. Time and time + again the peace of India has been ripped asunder at the whim of priests! + These padre people, preaching new damnation everywhere, are the flint and + steel for the tinder of the cartridge fat!” + </p> + <p> + “I never knew you to croak before, Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor am I croaking. I am praising Allah, who has sent thee now to the + place whence the wind will come to fan the hell flames that presently will + burn. The wind will blow hot or cold—for or against the government—according + as you and I and certain others act when opportunity arrives! See yonder!” + </p> + <p> + They had been seen, evidently, for horsemen—looking like black ants + on the desert—seemed to have crawled from the bowels of the living + rock and were galloping in their direction. + </p> + <p> + “Friends?” asked Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “Friends, indeed! But they have yet to discover whether we are friends. + They set me thinking, sahib. Alwa is well known on this country-side and + none dare raid his place; few would waste time trying. Therefore, it is + all one to him who passes along this road; and he takes no trouble, as a + rule, to send his men out in skirmishing order when a party comes in view. + Why, then, does he trouble now?” + </p> + <p> + “Couldn't say. I don't know Alwa.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking, sahib, that the cloud has burst at last! A blood-red + cloud! Alwa is neither scare-monger nor robber; when he sends out armed + men to inspect strangers on the sky-line, there is war! Sahib, I grow + young again! Had people listened to me—had they called me anything + but fool when I warned them—thou and I would have been cooped up now + in Agra, or in Delhi, or Lucknow, or Peshawur! Now we are free of the + plains of Rajputana—within a ride of fifty of my blood-relations, + and they each within reach of others! Ho! I can hear the thunder of a + squadron at my back again! I am young, sahib—young! My old joints + loosen! Allah send the cloud has burst at last—I bring to two + thousand Rangars a new Cunnigan-bahadur! Thy father's son shall learn what + Cunnigan-bahadur taught!” + </p> + <p> + He lapsed into silence, watching the advancing horsemen, who swooped down + on them in an ever-closing fan formation. His tired horse sensed the + thrill that tingled through its rider's veins, and pranced again, curving + his neck and straining at the bit until Mahommed Gunga steadied him. The + five behind—even the mule-drivers too—detected excitement in + the air, and the little column closed in on its leaders. All eyes watched + the neck-and-neck approach of Alwa's men, until Cunningham at last could + see their turbans and make out that they were Rangars, not Hindoos. Then + he and the Risaldar drew rein. + </p> + <p> + There were twenty who raced toward them, but no Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “It is as I thought!” declared Mahommed Gunga. “It is war, sahib! He has + summoned men from his estates. As a rule, he can afford but ten men for + that fort of his, and he would not send all his men to meet us—he + has a garrison up yonder!” + </p> + <p> + Like blown dust-devils the twenty raced to them, and drew up thundering + within a lance-length. A sword-armed Rangar with a little gold lace on his + sleeve laughed loud as he saluted, greeting Mahommed Gunga first. The + Risaldar accepted his salute with iron dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive him, sahib!” he whispered to Cunningham. “The jungli knows no + better! He will learn whom to salute first when Alwa has said his say!” + </p> + <p> + But Cunningham was in no mood just then to stand on military ceremony or + right of precedence. He was too excited, too inquisitive, too occupied + with the necessity for keeping calm in the face of what most surely looked + like the beginning of big happenings. These horsemen of Alwa's rode, and + looked, and laughed like soldiers, new-stripped of the hobble ropes of + peace, and their very seat in the untanned saddles—tight down, + loose-swaying from the hips, and free—was confirmation of Mahommed + Gunga's words. + </p> + <p> + They wheeled in a cloud and led the way, opening a little in the centre to + let the clouds of sand their horses kicked up blow to the right and left + of Cunningham and his men. Not a word was spoken—not a question + asked or a piece of news exchanged—until the whole party halted at + the foot of Alwa's fortress home—a great iron gate in front of them + and garden land on either side—watered by the splashing streamlet + from the heights above. + </p> + <p> + “Men of the house of Kachwaha have owned and held this place, sahib, since + Allah made it!” whispered Mahommed Gunga. “Men say that Alwa has no right + to it; they lie! His father's father won the dower-right!” + </p> + <p> + He was interrupted by the rising of the iron gate. It seemed solid, + without even an eyehole in it. It was wide enough to let four horses under + side by side, and for all its weight it rose as suddenly and evenly as + though a giant's hand had lifted it. Immediately behind it, like an actor + waiting for the stage-curtain to rise, Alwa bestrode his war-horse in the + middle of a roadway. He saluted with drawn sabre, and this time Cunningham + replied. + </p> + <p> + Almost instantly the man who had led the gallopers and had saluted + Mahommed Gunga spurred his horse up close to Cunningham and whispered: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, sahib! I did not know! Am I forgiven?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Cunningham, remembering then that a Rajput, and a Rangar more + particularly, thinks about points of etiquette before considering what to + eat. Alwa growled out a welcome, rammed his sabre home, and wheeled + without another word, showing the way at a walk—which was all a wild + goat could have accomplished—up a winding road, hewn out of the + solid mountain, that corkscrewed round and round upon itself until it gave + onto the battlemented summit. There he dismounted, ordered his men to + their quarters, and for the first time took notice of his cousin. + </p> + <p> + “I have thy missionary and his daughter, three horses for thee, and thy + man,” he smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Did Ali Partab bring them?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay. It was I brought Ali Partab and the rest! My promise is redeemed!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga thrust his sword-hilt out and smiled back at him. “I + present Raff-Cunnigan-sahib—son of Pukka-Cunnigan-bahadur!” he + announced. + </p> + <p> + Alwa drew himself up to his full height and eyed young Cunningham as a + buyer eyes a war-horse, inch by inch. The youngster, who had long since + learned to actually revel in the weird sensation of a hundred pairs of + eyes all fixed on him at once, felt this one man's gaze go over him as + though he were being probed. He thanked his God he had no fat to be + detected, and that his legs were straight, and that his tunic fitted him! + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, bahadur,” said Alwa slowly. “I knew thy father. So—thou—art—his—son. + Welcome. There is room here always for a guest. I have other guests with + whom you might care to speak. I will have a room made ready. Have I leave + to ask questions of my cousin here?” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham bowed in recognition of his courtesy, and walked away to a + point whence he could look from the beetling parapet away and away across + desert that shone hot and hazy-rimmed on every side. If this were a man on + whom he must depend for following—if any of all the more than hints + dropped by the risaldar were true—it seemed to him that his + reception was a little too chilly to be hopeful. + </p> + <p> + After a minute or two he turned his eyes away from the dazzling plain + below and faced about to inspect the paved courtyard. Round it, on three + sides of a parallelogram, there ran a beautifully designed and wonderfully + worked-out veranda-fronted building, broken here and there by cobbled + passages that evidently led to other buildings on the far edge of the + rock. In the centre, covered by a roof like a temple-dome in miniature, + was the ice-cold spring, whose existence made the fort tenable. Under the + veranda, on a long, low lounge, was a sight that arrested his attention—held + him spell-bound—drew him, tingling in a way he could not have + explained—drew him—drew him, slow-footed, awkward, red—across + the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + He heard Mahommed Gunga swear aloud; he recognized the wording of the + belly-growled Rangar oath; but it did not occur to him that what he saw—what + was drawing him—could be connected with it. He looked straight ahead + and walked ahead—reached the edge of the veranda—took his + helmet off—and stood still, feeling like an idiot, with the sun full + on his head. + </p> + <p> + “I'd advise you to step into the shade,” said a voice that laughed more + sweetly than the chuckling spring. “I don't know who you are, but I'm more + glad to see you than I ever was in my life to see anybody. I can't get up, + because I'm too stiff; the ride to here from Howrah City all but killed + me, and I'm only here still because I couldn't ride another yard. My + father will be out in a moment. He's half-dead too.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Cunningham.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm Miss McClean. My father was a missionary in Howrah.” + </p> + <p> + She nodded to a chair beside her, and Cunningham took it, feeling awkward, + as men of his type usually do when they meet a woman in a strange place. + </p> + <p> + “How in the world did you get in?” she asked him. “It's two days now since + the Alwa-sahib told us that the whole country is in rebellion. How is it + that you managed to reach here? According to Alwa, no white man's life is + safe in the open, and he only told me today that he wouldn't let me go + away even if I were well enough to ride.” + </p> + <p> + “First I've heard of rebellion!” said Cunningham aghast at the notion of + hearing news like that a second hand, and from a woman. + </p> + <p> + “Hasn't Alwa told you?” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn't had time to, yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, you'd better ask him. If what he say is true—and I think he + tells the truth—the natives mean to kill us all, or drive us out of + India. Of course they can't do it, but they mean to try. He has been more + than kind—more than hospitable—more than chivalrous. Just + because he gave his word to another Rangar, he risked his life about a + dozen times to get my father and me and Ali Partab out of Howrah. But, I + don't think he quite liked doing it—and—this is in confidence—if + I were asked—and speaking just from intuition—I should say he + is in sympathy with the rebellion!” + </p> + <p> + “How long have you been here?” asked Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “Several days—ten, I think. It seemed strange at first and rather + awful to be lodged on a rock like this in a section of a Rangar's harem! + Yes, there are several women here behind the scenes, but I only see the + waiting-women. I've forgotten time; the news about rebellion seems too + awful to leave room for any other thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Who was the Rangar to whom Aliva gave his word? Not Mahommed Gunga, by + any chance?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm—!” Cunningham clipped off the participle just in time. + “There is something, then, in the talk about rebellion! That man's been + talking in riddles to me ever since I came to India, and it looks as + though he knew long in advance.” + </p> + <p> + He was about to cross-examine Miss McClean rigorously, even at the risk of + seeming either rude or else frightened; but before his lips could frame + another question he caught sight of Mahommed Gunga making signals to him. + He affected to ignore the signals. He objected to being kept in the dark + so utterly, and wished to find out a little for himself before listening + to what the Rangars had to say. But Mahommed Gunga started over to him. + </p> + <p> + He could not hear the remark Mahommed Gunga made to Alwa over his shoulder + as he came. + </p> + <p> + “Had I remembered there was a woman of his own race here, I would have + plunged him straight into the fighting! Now there will be the devil first + to pay!” + </p> + <p> + “He has decision in at least one thing!” grinned Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Something that I think thou lackest, cousin!” came the hot retort. + </p> + <p> + Alwa turned his back with a shake of his head and a thin-lipped smile—then + disappeared through a green door in the side of what seemed like solid + rock. A moment later Mahommed Gunga stood near Cunningham, saluting. + </p> + <p> + “We ask the favor of a consultation, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham rose, a shade regretfully, and followed into the rock-walled + cavern into which Alwa had preceded them. It was nearly square—a + hollow bubble in the age-old lava—axe-trimmed many hundred years + ago. What light there was came in through three long slits that gave an + archer's view of the plain and of the zigzag roadway from the iron gate + below. It was cool, for the rock roof was fifty or more feet thick, and + the silence of it seemed like the nestling-place of peace. + </p> + <p> + They sat down on wooden benches round the walls, with their soldier legs + stretched out in front of them. Alwa broke silence first, and it was of + anything but peace he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “Now—now, let us see whose throats we are to slit!” he started + cheerfully. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Achilles had a tender spot + That even guarding gods forgot, + When clothing him in armor; + And I have proved this charge o' mine + For fear, and sloth, and vice, and wine, + But clear forgot the charmer! +</pre> + <p> + THE Alwa-sahib knew more English than he was willing to admit. In the + first place, he had the perfectly natural dislike of committing his + thoughts to any language other than his own when anything serious was the + subject of discussion; in the second place, he had little of Mahommed + Gunga's last-ditch loyalty. Not that Alwa could be disloyal; he had not + got it in him; but as yet he had seen no good reason for pledging himself + and his to the British cause. + </p> + <p> + So for more than ten minutes he chose to sit in apparent dudgeon, his + hands folded in front of him on the hilt of his tremendous sabre, growling + out a monologue in his own language for Mahommed Gunga's benefit. Then + Mahommed Gunga silenced him with an uplifted hand, and turned to translate + to Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “It would seem, sahib, that even while we rode to Abu the rebellion was + already raging! It burst suddenly. They have mutinied at Berhampur, and + slain their officers. Likewise at Meerut, and at all the places in + between. At Kohat, in this province they have slain every white man, + woman, and child, and also at Arjpur and Sohlat. The rebels are hurrying + to Delhi, where they have proclaimed new rule, under the descendants of + the old-time kings. Word of all this came before dawn today, by a + messenger from Maharajah Howrah to my cousin here. My cousin stands + pledged to uphold Howrah on his throne; Howrah is against the British; + Jaimihr, his brother, is in arms against Howrah.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did the Alwa-sahib pledge himself to Howrah's cause?” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga—who knew quite well—saw fit to translate the + question. With a little sign of irritation Alwa growled his answer. + </p> + <p> + “He says, sahib, that for the safety of two Christian missionaries, for + whom he has no esteem at all, he was forced to swear allegiance to a + Hindoo whom he esteems even less. He says that his word is given!” + </p> + <p> + “Does he mean that he would like me and the missionaries to leave his home + at once—do we embarrass him?” + </p> + <p> + Again Mahommed Gunga—this time with a grin—saw fit to ask + before he answered. + </p> + <p> + “He says, 'God forbid,' sahib; 'a guest is guest!'” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham reflected for a moment, then leaned forward. + </p> + <p> + “Tell him this!” he said slowly. “I am glad to be his guest, but, if this + story of rebellion is true—” + </p> + <p> + “It is true, sahib! More than true! There is much more to be told!” + </p> + <p> + “Then, I can only accept his hospitality as the representative of my + government! I stay here officially, or not at all. It is for him to + answer!” + </p> + <p> + “Now, Allah be praised!” swore Mahommed Gunga. “I knew we had a man! That + is well said, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “The son of Cunnigan-bahadur is welcome here on any terms at all!” growled + Alwa when Mahommed Gunga had translated. “All the rebels in all India, all + trying at once, would fail to take this fort of mine, had I a larger + garrison. But what Rangar on this countryside will risk his life and + estates on behalf of a cause that is already lost? If they come to hold my + fort for me, the rebels will burn their houses. The British Raj is doomed. + We Rangars have to play for our own stake!” + </p> + <p> + Then Mahommed Gunga rose and paced the floor like a man in armor, tugging + at his beard and kicking at his scabbard each time that he turned at + either end. + </p> + <p> + “What Rangar in this province would have had one yard of land to his name + but for this man's father?” he demanded. “In his day we fought, all of us, + for what was right! We threw our weight behind him when he led, letting + everything except obedience go where the devil wanted it! What came of + that? Good tithes, good report, good feeling, peace!” + </p> + <p> + “And then, the zemindary laws!” growled Alwa. “Then the laws that took + away from us full two-thirds of our revenue!” + </p> + <p> + “We had had no revenue, except for Cunnigan-bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + It dawned on Cunningham exactly why and how he came to be there! He + understood now that Mahommed Gunga had told nothing less than truth when + he declared it had been through his scheming, and no other man's, that he—Cunningham—whose + sole thought was to be a soldier, had been relegated to oblivion and + politics! He understood why Byng had signed the transfer, and he knew—knew—knew—deep + down inside him that his chance had come! + </p> + <p> + “It seems that another Cunningham is to have the honor of preserving + Rangars' titles for them,” he smiled. “How many horsemen could the + Alwa-sahib raise?” + </p> + <p> + “That would depend!” Alwa was in no mood to commit himself. + </p> + <p> + “At the most—at a pinch—in case of direst need, and for a + cause that all agreed on?” + </p> + <p> + “Two thousand.” + </p> + <p> + “Horsed and armed?” + </p> + <p> + “And ready!” + </p> + <p> + “And you, Alwa-sahib—are you pledged to fight against the British?” + </p> + <p> + “Not in so many words. I swore to uphold Howrah on his throne. He is + against the British.” + </p> + <p> + “You swore to help smash his brother, Jaimihr?” + </p> + <p> + “If I were needed.” + </p> + <p> + “And Jaimihr too is against the British?” + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr is for Jaimihr, and has a personal affair with me!” + </p> + <p> + “I must think,” said Cunningham, getting up. “I can think better alone. + D'you mind if I go outside for a while, and come back later to tell you + what I think?” + </p> + <p> + Alwa arose and held the door open for him—stood and watched him + cross the courtyard—then turned and laughed at Mahommed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Straight over to the woman!” he grinned. “This leader of thine seems in + leading-strings himself already!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga cursed, and cursed again as his own eyes confirmed what + Alwa said. + </p> + <p> + “I tried him all the ways there are, except that one way!” he declared. + “May Allah forgive my oversight! I should have got him well entangled with + a woman before he reached Peshawur! He should have been heart-broken by + this time—rightly, he should have been desperate with unrequited + love! Byng-bahadur could have managed it! Byng-bahadur would have managed + it, had I thought to advise him!” + </p> + <p> + He stood, looking over very gloomily at Cunningham, making a dozen wild + plans for getting rid of Miss McClean—by no means forgetting poison—and + the height of Alwa's aerie from the plain below! He would have been + considerably calmer, could he have heard what Cunningham and Miss McClean + were saying. + </p> + <p> + The missionary was with her now—ill and exhausted from the combined + effects of excitement, horror, and the unaccustomed ride across the desert—most + anxious for his daughter—worried, to the verge of desperation, by + the ghastly news of the rebellion. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Cunningham, I hope you are the forerunner of a British force?” he + hazarded. + </p> + <p> + But Cunningham was too intent on cross-examination to waste time on giving + any information. + </p> + <p> + “I want you to tell me, quite quietly and without hurry, all you can about + Howrah,” he said, sitting close to Miss McClean. “I want you to understand + that I am the sole representative of my government in the whole district, + and that whatever can be done depends very largely on what information I + can get. I have been talking to the Alwa-sahib, but he seems too obsessed + with his own predicament to be able to make things quite clear. Now, go + ahead and tell me what you know about conditions in the city. Remember, + you are under orders! Try and consider yourself a scout, reporting + information to your officer. Tell me every single thing, however + unimportant.” + </p> + <p> + On the far side of the courtyard Alwa and Mahommed Gunga had gone to lean + over the parapet and watch something that seemed to interest both of them + intently. There were twenty or more men, lined round the ramparts on the + lookout, and they all too seemed spellbound, but Cunningham was too + engrossed in Miss McClean's story of the happenings in Howrah City to take + notice. Now and then her father would help her out with an interjected + comment; occasionally Cunningham would stop her with a question, or would + ask her to repeat some item; but, for more than an hour she spun a + clear-strung narrative that left very little to imagination and included + practically all there was to know. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think,” asked Cunningham “that this brute Jaimihr really wants to + make you Maharanee?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't say,” she shuddered. “You know, there have been several + instances of European women having practically sold themselves to native + princes; there have been stories—I have heard them—of English + women marrying Rajahs, and regretting it. There is no reason why he should + not be in earnest, and he certainly seemed to be.” + </p> + <p> + “And this treasure? Of course, I have heard tales about it, but I thought + they were just tales.” + </p> + <p> + “That treasure is really there, and its amount must be fabulous. I have + been told that there are jewels there which would bring a Rajah's ransom, + and gold enough to offset the taxes of the whole of India for a year or + two. I've no doubt the stories are exaggerated, but the treasure is real + enough, and big enough to make the throne worth fighting for. Jaimihr + counts on being able to break the power of the priests and broach the + treasure.” + </p> + <p> + “And Jaimihr is—er—in love with you!” + </p> + <p> + “He tried very hard to prove it, in his own objectionable way!” + </p> + <p> + “And Jaimihr wants the throne—and Howrah wants to send a force + against the British, but dare not move because of Jaimihr—I have + Mahommed Gunga and five or six men to depend on—the Rangars are + sitting on the fence—and the government has its hands full! The + lookout's bright! I think I see the way through!” + </p> + <p> + “You are forgetting me.” The missionary spread his broad stooped + shoulders. “I am a missionary first, but next to that I have my country's + cause more at heart than anything. I place myself under your orders, Mr. + Cunningham.” + </p> + <p> + “I too,” said Miss McClean. She was looking at him keenly as he gazed away + into nothing through slightly narrowed eyes. Vaguely, his attitude + reminded her of a picture she had once seen of the Duke of Wellington; + there was the same mastery, the same far vision, the same poise of + self-contained power. His nose was not like the Iron Duke's, for young + Cunningham's had rather more tolerance in its outline and less of Roman + overbearing; but the eyes, and the mouth, and the angle of the jaw were so + like Wellesley's as to force a smile. “A woman isn't likely to be much use + in a case like this—but, one never knows. My country comes first.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” he answered quietly. And as he turned his head to flash one + glance at each of them, she recognized what Mahommed Gunga had gloated + over from the first—the grim decision, that will sacrifice all—take + full responsibility—and use all means available for the one + unflinching purpose of the game in hand. She knew that minute, and her + father knew, that if she could be used—in any way at all—he + would make use of her. + </p> + <p> + “Go ahead!” she nodded. “I'll obey!” + </p> + <p> + “And I will not prevent!” said Duncan McClean, smiling and straightening + his spectacles. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham left them and walked over to the parapet, where the whole + garrison was bending excitedly now above the battlement. There were more + than forty men, most of them clustered near Alwa and Mahommed Gunga. + Mahommed Gunga was busy counting. + </p> + <p> + “Eight hundred!” he exclaimed, as Cunningham drew near. + </p> + <p> + “Eight hundred what, Mahommed Gunga? Come and see, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham leaned over, and beheld a mounted column, trailing along the + desert road in wonderfully good formation. + </p> + <p> + “Where are they from?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr's men, from Howrah!” + </p> + <p> + “That means,” growled Alwa, “that the Hindoo pig Jaimihr has more than + half the city at his back. He has left behind ten men for every one he + brings with him—sufficient to hold Howrah in check. Otherwise he + would never have dared come here. He hopes to settle his little private + quarrel with me first, before dealing with his brother! Who told him, I + wonder, that I was pledged to Howrah?” + </p> + <p> + “He reckons he has caught thee napping in this fort of thine!” laughed + Mahommed Gunga. “He means to bottle up the Rangars' leader, and so + checkmate all of them!” + </p> + <p> + The eight hundred horsemen on the plain below rode carelessly through + Alwa's gardens, leaving trampled confusion in their wake, and lined up—with + Jaimihr at their head—immediately before the great iron gate. A + moment later four men rode closer and hammered on it with their + lance-ends. + </p> + <p> + “Go down and speak to them!” commanded Alwa, and a man dropped down the + zigzag roadway like a goat, taking short cuts from level to level, until + he stood on a pinnacle of rock that overhung the gate. Ten minutes later + he returned, breathing hard with the effort of his climb. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr demands the missionaries—particularly the Miss-sahib—also + quarters and food!” he reported. + </p> + <p> + “Quarters and food he shall have!” swore Alwa, looking down at the Prince + who sat his charger in the centre of the roadway. “Did he deign a threat?” + </p> + <p> + “He said that in fifteen minutes he will burst the gate in, unless he is + first admitted!” + </p> + <p> + Duncan McClean walked over, limping painfully, and peered over the + precipice. + </p> + <p> + “Unfriendly?” he asked, and Mahommed Gunga heard him. + </p> + <p> + “Thy friend Jaimihr, sahib! His teeth are all but visible from here!” + </p> + <p> + “And—?” + </p> + <p> + “He demands admittance—also thee and thy daughter!” + </p> + <p> + “And—?” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib—art thou a priest?” + </p> + <p> + “I am.” + </p> + <p> + “One, then, who prays?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “For dead men, ever? For the dying?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Aloud?” + </p> + <p> + “On occasion, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then pray now! There will be many dead and dying on the plain below in + less than fifteen minutes! Hindoos, for all I know, would benefit by + prayer. They have too many gods, and their gods are too busy fighting for + ascendancy to listen. Pray thou, a little!” + </p> + <p> + There came a long shout from the plain, and Alwa sent a man again to + listen. He came back with a message that Jaimihr granted amnesty to all + who would surrender, and that he would be pleased to accept Alwa's + allegiance if offered to him. + </p> + <p> + “I will offer the braggart something in the way of board and lodging that + will astonish him!” growled Alwa. “Eight men to horse! The first eight! + That will do! Back to the battlement, the rest of you!” + </p> + <p> + They had raced for the right to loose themselves against eight hundred! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + OH, duck and run—the hornets come! + Oh, jungli! Clear the way! + The nest's ahum—the hornets come! + The sharp-stinged, harp-winged hornets come! + Nay, jungli! When the hornets come, + It isn't well to stay! +</pre> + <p> + ALWA ordered ten men down into the bowels of the rock itself, where great + wheels with a chain attached to them were forced round to lift the gate. + Next he stationed a signaller with a cord in either hand, above the + parapet, to notify the men below exactly when to set the simple machinery + in motion. His eight clattered out from the stables on the far side of the + rock, and his own charger was brought to him, saddled. + </p> + <p> + Then, in a second, it was evident why Raputs do not rule in Rajputana. + </p> + <p> + “I ride too with my men!” declared Mahommed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Nay! This is my affair—my private quarrel with Jaimihr!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga turned to Ali Partab, who had been a shadow to him ever + since he came. + </p> + <p> + “Turn out my five, and bring my charger!” he commanded. + </p> + <p> + “No, I say!” Alwa had his hand already on his sabre hilt. “There is room + for eight and no more. Four following four abreast, and one ahead to lead + them. I and my men know how to do this. I and my men have a personal + dispute with Jaimihr. Stay thou here!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga's five and Ali Partab came clattering out so fast as to + lead to the suspicion that their horses had been already saddled. Mahommed + Gunga mounted. + </p> + <p> + “Lead on, cousin!” he exclaimed. “I will follow thy lead, but I come!” + </p> + <p> + Then Alwa did what a native nearly always will do. He turned to a man not + of his own race, whom he believed he could trust to be impartial. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib—have I no rights in my own house?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly you have,” said Cunningham, who was wondering more than + anything what weird, wild trick these horsemen meant to play. No man in + his senses would have dared to ride a horse at more than foot-pace down + the path. Was there another path? he wondered. At least, if eight men were + about to charge into eight hundred, it would be best to keep his good + friend Mahommed Gunga out of it, he decided. + </p> + <p> + “Risaldar!” The veteran was always most amenable to reason when addressed + by his military title. “Who of us two is senior—thou or I?” + </p> + <p> + “By Allah, not I, sahib! I am thy servant!” + </p> + <p> + “I accept your service, and I order you to stay with your men up here with + me!” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga saluted and dismounted, and his six followed suit, looking + as disappointed as children just deprived of a vacation. Alwa wheeled his + horse in front of Cunningham and saluted too. + </p> + <p> + “For that service, sahib, I am thy friend!” he muttered. “That was right + and reasonable, and a judgement quickly given! Thy friend, bahadur!” He + spoke low on purpose, but Mahommed Gunga heard him, caught Cunningham's + eye, and grinned. He saw a way to save his face, at all events. + </p> + <p> + “That was a trick well turned, sahib!” he whispered, as Alwa moved away. + “Alwa will listen in future when Cunnigan-bahadur speaks!” + </p> + <p> + “Go down and tell Jaimihr that I come in person!” ordered Alwa, and the + man dropped down the cliff side for the third time; they could hear his + voice, high-pitched, resounding off the rock, and they caught a faint + murmur of the answer. Below, Jaimihr could be seen waiting patiently, + checking his restive war-horse with a long-cheeked bit, and waiting, ready + to ride under the gate the moment it was opened. Rosemary McClean came + over; she and Cunningham and the missionary leaned together over the + battlement and watched. + </p> + <p> + “We might do some execution with rifles from here,” Cunningham suggested; + “I believe I'll send for mine.” But Mahommed Gunga overheard him. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib! No shooting will be necessary. Watch!” + </p> + <p> + There was a clatter of hoofs, and they all looked up in time to see the + tails of the last four chargers disappearing round the corner, downward. + They had gone—full pelt—down a path that a man might hesitate + to take! From where they stood, there was an archer's view of every inch + of the only rock-hewn road that led from the gate to the summit of the + cliff; an enemy who had burst the gate in would have had to climb in the + teeth of a searching hail of missiles, with little chance of shooting + back. + </p> + <p> + They could see the gate itself, and Jaimihr on the other side. And, + swooping—shooting—sliding down the trail like a storm-loosed + avalanche, they could see the nine go, led by Alwa. No living creature + could have looked away! + </p> + <p> + Below, entirely unconscious of the coming shock, the mounted sepoys waited + behind Jaimihr in four long, straight lines. Jaimihr himself, with a + heavy-hilted cimeter held upward at the “carry,” was about four charger + lengths beyond the iron screen, ready to spur through. Close by him were a + dozen, waiting to ram a big beam in and hold up the gate when it had + opened. And, full-tilt down the gorge, flash-tipped like a thunderbolt, + gray-turbaned, reckless, whirling death ripped down on them. + </p> + <p> + They caught sound of the hammering hoofs too late. Two gongs boomed in the + rock. The windlass creaked. Five seconds too late Jaimihr gathered up his + reins, spurred, wheeled, and shouted to the men behind him. The great gate + rose, like the jaws of a hungry monster, and the nine—streaking too + fast down far too steep a slide to stop themselves—burst straight + out under it and struck, as a wind blast smites a poppy-field. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr was borne backward—carried off his horse. Alwa and the first + four rode him down, and crashed through the four-deep line beyond; the + second four pounced on him, gathered him, and followed. Before the lines + could form again the whole nine wheeled—as a wind-eddy spins on its + own axis—and burst through back again, the horses racing neck and + neck, and the sabres cutting down a swath to screech and swear and gurgle + in among the trampled garden stuff. + </p> + <p> + They came back in a line, all eight abreast, Alwa leading only by a + length. At the opening, four horses—two on either side—slid, + rump to the ground, until their noses touched the rock. Alwa and four + dashed through and under; the rest recovered, spun on their haunches, and + followed. The gongs boomed again down in the belly of the rock, and the + gate clanged shut. + </p> + <p> + “That was good,” said Mahommed Gunga quietly. “Now, watch again!” + </p> + <p> + Almost before the words had left his lips, a hail of lead barked out from + twenty vantage-points, and the smoke showed where some forty men were + squinting down steel barrels, shooting as rapidly and as rottenly as + natives of India usually do. They did little execution; but before Alwa + and his eight had climbed up the steep track to the summit, patting their + horses' necks and reviling Jaimihr as they came, the cavalry below had + scampered out of range, leaving their dead and wounded where they lay. + </p> + <p> + “How is that for a start, sahib?” demanded Mahommed Gunga exultantly, as + two men deposited the dishevelled Jaimihr on his feet, and the Prince + glared around him like a man awaking from a dream. “How is that for a + beginning?” + </p> + <p> + “As bad as could be!” answered Cunningham. “It was well executed—bold—clever—anything + you like, Mahommed Gunga, but—if I'd been asked I'd have sooner made + the devil prisoner! Jaimihr is no use at all to us in here. Outside, he'd + be veritable godsend!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + There is war to the North should I risk and ride forth, + And a fight to the South, too, I'm thinking; + There is war in the East, and one battle at least + In the West between eating and drinking. + I'm allowed to rejoice in an excellent choice + Of plans for a soldier of mettle, + For all of them mean bloody war and rapine. + So—on which should a gentleman settle? +</pre> + <p> + WITH his muscles strained and twisted (for his Rangar capturers had + dragged him none too gently) and with his jewelled pugree all awry, + Jaimihr did not lack dignity. He held his chin high, although he gazed at + the bubbling spring thirstily; and, thirsty though he must have been, he + asked no favors. + </p> + <p> + One of Alwa's men brought him a brass dipper full of water, after washing + it out first thoroughly and ostentatiously. But Jaimihr smiled. His caste + forbade. He waved away the offering much as Caesar may have waved aside a + crown, with an air of condescending mightiness too proud to know contempt. + </p> + <p> + “Go, help thyself!” growled Alwa; and Jaimihr walked to the spring without + haste, knelt down, and dipped up water with his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Now to a cell with him!” commanded Alwa, before the Prince had time to + slake a more than ordinary thirst. Jaimihr stood upright as four men + closed in on him, and looked straight in the eyes of every one in turn. + Rosemary McClean stepped back, to hide herself behind Cunningham's broad + shoulders, but Jaimihr saw her and his proud smile broadened to a laugh of + sheer amusement. He let his captors wait for him while he stared straight + at her, sparing her no fragment of embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “I slew a man once to save thee, sahiba!” he mocked. “Why slink away? Have + I ever been thy enemy?” + </p> + <p> + Then he folded his arms and walked off between his guards, without even an + acknowledgment of Alwa's or any other man's existence on the earth. + </p> + <p> + Alwa spat as he wiped blood from his long sabre. He imagined he was doing + the necessary dirty work out of Miss McClean's sight; but, except hospital + nurses, there are few women who can see dry blood removed from steel + without a qualm; she had looked at Alwa to escape Jaimihr's gaze; now she + looked at Jaimihr's back to avoid the sight of what Alwa was seeing fit to + do. And with all the woman in her she pitied the prisoner, who had said no + less than truth when he claimed to have killed a man for her. + </p> + <p> + She knew that he would have killed a thousand men for her with equal + generosity and equal disregard of what she thought was right, and she did + not doubt that he would think himself both justified and worthy of renown + for doing it. She could have begged his release that minute, had she + thought for an instant that Alwa would consent, and but for Cunningham. + She had grown aware of Cunningham's gray eyes, staring straight at her—summing + her up—reading her. And she became conscious of the fact that she + had met a man whose leave she would like to ask before deciding to act. + </p> + <p> + The mental acknowledgment brought relief for a few seconds. She was tired. + The woman in here went out to the man in Cunningham, and she welcomed a + protector. Then the Scots blood raced to the assistance of the woman, and + she bridled instantly. Who, then, was this chance-met jackanapes, that she + should lean on him or look to him for guidance? + </p> + <p> + The rebellion that had made her disobey her father back in Howrah City—the + spirit that had kept her in Howrah City and had given Jaimihr back cool + stare for stare—rallied her to resist—to ridicule—to + rival Cunningham's pretensions. He saw her flush beneath his gaze, and + turned away to where Mahommed Gunga watched from the parapet. + </p> + <p> + The leaders of Jaimihr's calvary were arguing. They could be seen gathered + together out of rifle-shot but in full view of Alwa's rock, and from their + gestures they seemed to be considering the feasibility of an attack. + </p> + <p> + But it needed no warrior—it needed less even than ordinary + intelligence—to know that as few as forty men could hold that + fastness against two thousand. Eight hundred would have no chance against + it. Even two thousand would need engineers, and ordnance, as well as + plans. + </p> + <p> + Presently half of the little army rode away, back toward Howrah City, and + the other half proceeded to bivouac where they could watch the + iron-shuttered entrance and cut off the little garrison from all + communication or assistance. + </p> + <p> + “We might as well resume our conference,” suggested Alwa, with the courtly + air of a man just arisen from a chair. No one who had not seen him ride + would have dreamed that he was fresh from snatching a prisoner at the + bottom of a neck-breaking defile. Cunningham nodded acquiescence and + followed him, turning to stare again at Miss McClean before he strode away + with long, even strides that had a reassuring effect on any one who + watched him. She bridled again, and blushed. But she experienced the weird + sensation of being read right through before Mahommed Gunga contrived + adroitly to step into the line of view and so let Cunningham's attention + fix itself on something else. The Risaldar had made up his mind that love + was inopportune just then; and he was a man who left no stone unturned—no + point unwatched—when he had sensed a danger. This might be danger + and it might not be; so he watched. Cunningham was conscious of the sudden + interruption of a train of thought, but he was not conscious of deliberate + interference. + </p> + <p> + “That very young man is an old man,” said Duncan McClean, wiping his + spectacles as he walked beside his daughter to the deep veranda where + their chairs were side by side. “He is a grown man. He has come to man's + estate. Look at the set of that pair of shoulders. Mark his strength!” + </p> + <p> + “I expect any one of those Rajputs is physically stronger,” answered + Rosemary, in no mood to praise any one. + </p> + <p> + “I was thinking of the strength of character he expresses rather than of + his actual muscles,” said McClean. + </p> + <p> + “Bismillah!” Alwa was swearing behind the thick teak door that closed + behind him and Cunningham and Mahommed Gunga. “We have made a good + beginning! With the wolf in a trap, what has the goat to dread? Howrah may + chuckle himself to sleep! And I—I, too, by the beard of God's + prophet!—I, too, may laugh, for, with Jaimihr under lock and key, + what need is there to ride to the aid of a Hindoo Rajah? I am free again!” + </p> + <p> + “Alwa-sahib!” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham had fixed him with those calm gray eyes of his, and Mahommed + Gunga sat down on the nearest bench contented. He could wait for what was + coming now. He recognized the blossoming of the plant that he had nursed + through its growth so long. + </p> + <p> + “I listen,” answered Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “I represent the British Government. I am the only servant of the Company + within reach. Do you realize that?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no orders which entitle me to deal with any crisis such as this. + But, when my orders were given me, no such crisis was contemplated. + Therefore, on behalf of the Company, I assume full authority until such + time as some one senior to me turns up to relieve me. Is all that clear to + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga went through considerable pantomime of being angry with a + fly. He found it necessary to conceal emotion in some way or other. Alwa + sat motionless and stared straight back at Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “I understand, sahib,” he repeated. + </p> + <p> + “You are talking to me, then, on that understanding?” + </p> + <p> + “Most certainly, huzoor.” + </p> + <p> + “You can raise two thousand men?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “Say fifteen hundred?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely fifteen hundred. Not a sabre less.” + </p> + <p> + “All horsed and armed?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, bahadur. Of what use would be a rabble? I was speaking in terms + of men able to fight, as one soldier to another.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you raise those men?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a truth, I must, sahib!” Alwa laughed. “Jaimihr's thousands will be in + no mind to lie leaderless and let Howrah ride rough-shod over them! They + know his charity of old! They will be here to claim their Prince within a + day or two, and without my fifteen hundred how would I stand? Surely, + bahadur, I will raise my fifteen hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Now I will make you a proposal. On behalf of the Company I + offer you and your men pay at the rate paid to all irregular cavalry on a + war basis. In return, I demand your allegiance.” + </p> + <p> + “To whom, sahib? To you or to the Company?” + </p> + <p> + “To the Company, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay! Not I! For the son of Cunnigan-bahadur I would slit the throats of + half Asia, and then of nine-tenths of the other half! But by the breath of + God—by my spurs and this sabre here—I have had enough of + pledging! I swore allegiance to Howrah. Being nearly free of that pledge + by Allah's sending, shall I plunge into another, like a frightened bird + fluttering from snare to snare? Nay, nay, bahadur! For thyself, for thy + father's sake, ask any favor. It is granted. But thy Company may stew in + the grease of its own cartridges for ought I care!” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham stood up and bowed very slightly—very stiffly—very + punctiliously. Mahommed Gunga leaped to his feet, and came to attention + with a military clatter. Alwa stared, inclining his head a trifle in + recognition of the bow, but evidently taken by surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Then, good-by, Alwa-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham stretched out a hand. + </p> + <p> + “I am much obliged to you for your hospitality, and regret exceedingly + that I cannot avail myself of it further, either for myself or for + Mahommed Gunga or for Mr. and Miss McClean. As the Company's + representative, they, of course, look to me for orders and protection, and + I shall take them away at once. As things are, we can only be a source of + embarrassment to you.” + </p> + <p> + “But—sahib—huzoor—it is impossible. You have seen the + cavalry below. How can you—how could you get away?” + </p> + <p> + “Unless I am your prisoner I shall certainly leave this place at once. The + only other condition on which I will stay here is that you pledge your + allegiance to the Company and take my orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, this is—why—huzoor—” + </p> + <p> + Alwa looked over to Mahommed Gunga and raised his eyebrows eloquently. + </p> + <p> + “I obey him! I go with him!” growled Mahommed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, I would like time to think this over.” + </p> + <p> + “How much time? I thought you quick-witted when you made Jaimihr prisoner. + Has that small success undermined your power of decision? I know my mind. + Mahommed Gunga knows his, Alwa-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask an hour. There are many points I must consider. There is the + prisoner for one thing.” + </p> + <p> + “You can hand him over to the custody of the first British column we can + get in touch with, Alwa-sahib. That will relieve you of further + responsibility to Howrah and will insure a fair trial of any issue there + may be between yourself and Jaimihr.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa scowled. No Rajput likes the thought of litigation where affairs of + honor are concerned. He felt he would prefer to keep Jaimihr prisoner for + the present. + </p> + <p> + “Also, sahib”—fresh facets of the situation kept appearing to him as + he sparred for time—“with Jaimihr in a cage I can drive a bargain + with his brother. While I keep him in the cage, Howrah must respect my + wishes for fear lest otherwise I loose Jaimihr to be a thorn in his side + anew. If I hand him to the British, Howrah will know that he is safe and + altogether out of harm's way; then he will recall what he may choose to + consider insolence of mine; and then—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well—consider it!” said Cunningham, saluting him and making for + the door, close followed by Mahommed Gunga. The two went out and it left + Alwa to stride up and down alone—to wrestle between desire and + circumspection—to weigh uncomfortable fact with fact—and to + curse his wits that could not settle on the wisest and most creditable + course. They turned into another chamber of the tunnelled rock, and there + until long after the hour of law allowed to Alwa they discussed the + situation too. + </p> + <p> + “The point was well taken, sahib,” said Mahommed Gunga, “but he should + have been handled rather less abruptly.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather less abruptly, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Well—if his mind isn't clear as to which side he'll fight on, I + don't want him, and that's all!” said Cunningham. And Mahommed Gunga + bitted his impatience fiercely, praying the one God he believed in to + touch the right scale of the two. Later, Cunningham strode out to pace the + courtyard in the dark, and the Rajput followed him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The trapped wolf bared his fangs and swore, + “But set me this time free, + And I will hunt thee never more! + By ear and eye and jungle law, + I'll starve—I'll faint—I'll die before + I bury tooth in thee!” + </pre> + <p> + WHILE Alwa raged alone, and while Mahommed Gunga talked to Cunningham in a + rock-room near at hand, Rosemary McClean saw fit to take a hand in + history. It was not her temperament to sit quite idle while others shaped + her destiny; nor was she given to mere brooding over wrongs. When a wrong + was being done that she could alter or alleviate it was her way to tackle + it at once without asking for permission or advice. + </p> + <p> + From where her chair was placed under the long veranda she could see the + passage in the rock that led to Jaimihr's cell. She saw his captors take + him up the passage; she heard the door clang shut on him, and she saw the + men come back again. She heard them laugh, too, and she overheard a few + words of a jest that seemed the reason for the laughter. + </p> + <p> + In Rajputana, as in other portions of the East, men laugh with meaning as + a rule, and seldom from mere amusement. Included in the laugh there + usually lies more than a hint of threat, or hate, or cruelty. And, in + partial confirmation of the jest she unintentionally overheard, she saw no + servant go to the chuckling spring to fill a water-jar. She recalled that + Jaimihr only sipped as much as he could dip up in the hollow of his hand, + and that physical exertion and suffering of the sort that he had undergone + produces prodigious thirst in that hot, dry atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + She waited until dark for Cunninham, growing momentarily more restless. + She recalled that she was a guest of Alwa's, and as such not free to + interfere with his arrangements or to suggest insinuations anent his + treatment of prisoners. She recalled the pride of all Rajputs, and its + accompanying corollary of insolence when offended. There would come no + good—she knew—from asking anybody whether Jaimihr was allowed + to drink or not. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham, with that middle-aged air of authority laid over the fire and + ability of youth, would be able, no doubt, to enforce his wishes in the + matter after finding out the truth about it. But Cunningham did not come; + and she remembered from a short experience of her own what thirst was. + </p> + <p> + The men-at-arms were all on the ramparts now, watching the leaderless + cavalry on the plain. They had even left the cell door unguarded, for it + was held shut by a heavy beam that could not be reached from the inside; + and they were all too few, even all of them together, to hold that rock + against eight hundred. It was characteristic, though, and Eastern of the + East, that they should omit to padlock the big beam. It pivoted at its + centre on a big bronze pin, and even a child could move it from the + outside; it was only from the inside that it was uncontrollable. From + inside one could have jerked at the door for a week and the big beam would + have lain still and efficient in its niche in the rock-wall; but a little + pressure underneath one end would send it swinging in an arc until it hung + bolt upright. Then the same child who had pushed it up could have swung + the teak door wide. + </p> + <p> + Rosemary, growing momentarily thirstier herself as she thought of the + probable torture of the prisoner, walked down to the spring and filled a + dipper, as she had done half a dozen times a day since she first arrived. + She had carried almost all her own and her father's water, for Joanna was + generally sleeping somewhere out of view, and no other body-servant had + been provided for her. There was a fairly big brass pitcher by the spring. + She filled it. Nobody noticed her. + </p> + <p> + Then she recalled that nobody would notice her if she were to carry the + brass pitcher in the direction of her room, for she had done that often. + She picked it up, and she reached the end of the veranda with it without + having called attention to herself. She set it down then to make quite + sure that she was unobserved. + </p> + <p> + But some movement of the cavalry on the plain below was keeping the eyes + of the garrison employed. Although a solitary lantern shone full on her, + she reached the passage leading to the prisoner's cell unseen; and she + walked on down it, making no attempt to hide or hurry, remembering that + she was acting out of mercy and had no need to be ashamed. If she were to + be discovered, then she would be, and that was all about it, except that + she would probably be able to appeal to Cunningham to save her from + unpleasant consequences. In any case, she reasoned, she would have done + good. She was quite ready to get herself and her own in trouble if by + doing it she could insure that a prisoner had water. + </p> + <p> + But she was not seen. And no one saw her set the jar down by the door. No + one except the prisoner inside heard her knock. + </p> + <p> + “Have you water, Jaimihr-sahib?” she inquired. + </p> + <p> + The East has a hundred florid epithets for one used in the West; and in a + land where water is as scarce as gold and far more precious the mention of + water to a thirsty man calls forth a flood of thought such as only music + or perhaps religion can produce in luckier climes. Jaimihr waxed eloquent; + more eloquent than even water might have made him had another—had + even another woman—brought it. He recognized her voice, and said + things to her that roused all the anger that she knew. She had not come to + be made love to. + </p> + <p> + She thought, though, of his thirst. She remembered that within an hour or + two he might be raving for another reason and with other words. The big + beam lifted on her hands with barely more effort than was needed to lift + up the water-jar; the door opened a little way, and she tried, while she + passed the water in, to peer through the darkness at the prisoner. But + there were no windows to that cell, and such dim light as there was came + from behind her. + </p> + <p> + “They have bound me, sahiba, in this corner,” groaned Jaimihr. “I cannot + reach it. Take it away again! The certainty that it is there and out of + reach is too great torture!” + </p> + <p> + So she slipped in through the door, leaving it open a little way—both + her hands busy with the brass pitcher and both eyes straining their utmost + through the gloom—advancing step by step through mouldy straw that + might conceal a thousand horrors. + </p> + <p> + “You wonder, perhaps, why I do not escape!” said a voice. And then she + heard the cell door close again gently. + </p> + <p> + Now she could see Jaimihr, for he stood with his back against the door, + and his head was between her and the little six-inch grating that was all + the ventilation or light a prisoner in that place was allowed. + </p> + <p> + “So you lied to me, even when I brought you water?” she answered. She was + not afraid. She had nerve enough left to pity him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But I see that you did not lie. I am still thirsty, sahiba.” + </p> + <p> + He held out both hands, and she could see them dimly. There were no chains + on them, and he was not bound in any way. She gave him the jar. + </p> + <p> + “Let me pass out again before you drink,” she ordered. “It is not known + that I am in here, and I would not have it known.” + </p> + <p> + She could have bitten out her tongue with mortification a moment afterward + for letting any such admission escape her. She heard him chuckle as he + drank—he choked from chuckling, and set the jar down to cough. Then, + when he had recovered breath again, he answered almost patronizingly. + </p> + <p> + “Which would be least pleased with you, sahiba? The Rangars, or thy + father, or the other Englishman? But never mind, sahiba, we are friends. I + have proved that we are friends. Never have I taken water from the hands + of any man or any woman not of my own caste. I would have died sooner. It + was only thou, sahiba, who could make me set aside my caste.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me pass!” + </p> + <p> + She certainly was frightened now. It dawned on her, as it had at once on + him, that at the least commotion on his part or on hers a dozen Rangars + would be likely to come running. And just as he had done, she wondered + what explanation she would give in that case, and who would be likely to + believe it. To have been caught going to the cell would have been one + thing; to be caught in it would be another. He divined her thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear, sahiba. Thou and I are friends.” + </p> + <p> + She did not answer, for words would not come. Besides, she was beginning + to realize that words would be of little help to her. A woman who will + tell nothing but the truth under any circumstances and will surely keep + her promises is at a disadvantage when conversing with a man who surely + will not tell the truth if he can help it and who regards his given word + with almost equal disrespect. + </p> + <p> + “I have no fear, sahiba. I am not afraid to open this door wide and make a + bid for liberty. It would not be wise, that is all, and thou—and I + must deal in wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + His words came through the dark very evenly—spaced evenly—as + though he weighed each one of them before he voiced it. She gathered the + impression that he was thinking for his very life. She felt unable to + think for her own. She felt impelled to listen—incredulous, + helpless, frightened,—not a little ashamed. She was thinking more of + the awful things those Moslem gentlemen would say about her should they + come and discover her in Jaimihr's cell. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, sahiba! From end to end of India thy people are either dead, or + else face to face with death. There is no escape anywhere for any man or + woman—no hope, no chance. The British doom is sealed. So is the doom + of every man who dared to side with them.” + </p> + <p> + She shuddered. But she had to listen. + </p> + <p> + “There will be an army here within a day or two. My men—and I number + them by thousands—will come and rip these Rangars from their roost. + Those that are not crucified will be thrown down from the summit, and + there shall be a Hindoo shrine where they have worshipped their false god. + Then, sahiba, if thou art here—perhaps—there might—yet—be + a way-perhaps, yes?—a way, still, to escape me?” + </p> + <p> + She was trembling. She could not help beginning to believe him. Whatever + might be true of what he said was certainly not comforting. + </p> + <p> + “But, while my army comes in search of me, my brother Howrah will be + making merry with my palace and belongings. There will be devastation and + other things in my army's rear for which there is no need and for which I + have no stomach. I detest the thought of them, sahiba. Therefore, sahiba, + I would drive a bargain. Notice, sahiba, I say not one word of love, + though love such as mine is has seldom been offered to a woman. I say no + word of love—as yet. I say, help me to escape by night, when I may + make my way unseen back to my men: enable me to reach Howrah before my + dear brother is aware of my trouble and before his men can start + plundering, and name your own terms, sahiba!” + </p> + <p> + Name her own terms—name her own terms—name her own terms! The + words dinned through her head and she could grasp no other thought. She + was alone in a cell with Jaimihr, and she could get out of it if she would + name her terms! She must name them—she must hurry—what were + they? What were her terms? She could not think. + </p> + <p> + “Understand, sahiba. Certain things are sure. It is sure my men will come. + It is sure that every Rangar on this rock will meet a very far from + pleasant death—” + </p> + <p> + He grinned, and though she could not see him grin, she knew that he was + doing it. She knew that he was even then imagining a hundred horrors that + the Rangars would endure before they died. She might name her terms. She + could save them. + </p> + <p> + “No!” she hissed hoarsely. “No! They are my terms! I name them! You must + spare them—spare the Rangars—spare every man on this hill, and + theirs, and all they have!” + </p> + <p> + “Truly are those thy terms, sahiba?” + </p> + <p> + “Truly! What others can I ask?” + </p> + <p> + “They are granted, sahiba!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank God!” + </p> + <p> + She knew that he was speaking at least half the truth. She knew his power. + She knew enough of Howrah City's politics to be convinced that he would + not be left at the mercy of a little band of Rangars. She knew that there + were not enough Rangars on the whole countryside to oppose the army that + would surely come to his rescue. And whether he were dead or living, she + knew well enough that the vengeance would be wreaked on every living body + on the hill. Alwa might feel confident, not she. She trembled now with joy + at the thought that she—she the most helpless and useless of all of + them—might save the lives of all. + </p> + <p> + But then another phase of the problem daunted her. She might help Jaimihr + go. He might escape unobserved with her aid. But then? What then? What + would the Rangars do to her? Had she sufficient courage to face that? It + was not fear now that swept over her so much as wonder at herself. Jaimihr + detected something different in her mental attitude, and, since almost any + change means weakness to the Oriental mind, he was quick to try to take + advantage of it. He guessed right at the first attempt. + </p> + <p> + “And what wilt thou do here, sahiba? When I am gone, and there is none + here to love thee—” + </p> + <p> + “Peace!” she commanded. “Peace! I have suffered enough—” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wilt suffer more, should the Rangars learn—” + </p> + <p> + “That is my business! Let me pass! I have bargained, and I will try to + fulfil my part!” + </p> + <p> + She stepped toward the door, but he held out both his arms and she saw + them. She had no intention of being embraced by him, whatever their + conspiracy. + </p> + <p> + “Stand back!” she ordered. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, sahiba! Listen! Escape with me! These Rangars will not believe + without proof that thou hast saved their lives by bargaining. They will + show thee short shrift indeed when my loss is discovered. Come now and I + will make thee Maharanee in a week!” + </p> + <p> + “I would be as safe with one as with the other!” she laughed, something of + calm reflection returning to her. “And what proof have I in any case that + you will keep your word, Jaimihr-sahib. I will keep mine—but who + will keep yours, that has been so often broken?” + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba—” + </p> + <p> + “Show me a proof!” + </p> + <p> + “Here—now—in this place?” + </p> + <p> + “Convince me, if you can! I will give myself willingly if I can save my + father by it and these Rangars and Mr. Cunningham; but your bare word, + Jaimihr-sahib, is worth that!” + </p> + <p> + She snapped her fingers, and he swore beneath his breath. Then he + remembered his ambition and his present need, and words raced to his aid—words, + plans, oaths, treachery, and all the hundred and one tricks that he was + used to. He found himself consciously selecting from a dozen different + plans for tricking her. + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba”—he spoke slowly and convincingly. In the gloom she could + see his brown eyes levelled straight at hers, and she saw they did not + flinch—“there is none who knows better than thou knowest how my + brother and I stand to each other.” She shuddered at the reiterated second + person singular, but he either did not notice it or else affected not to. + “Thou know est that there is no love between him and me, and that I would + have his throne. The British could set me on that throne unless they were + first overwhelmed. Wert thou my legal wife, and were I to aid the British + in this minute of their need, they would not be overwhelmed, and afterward + they would surely set me on the throne. Therefore I pledge my word to lead + my men to the Company's aid, provided that these Rangars ride to my aid. + My brother plans to overcome me first, and then take arms against the + British. If the Rangars come to help me I will ride with them to the + Company's aid afterward. That is my given word!” + </p> + <p> + “Then the throne of Howrah is your price, Jaimihr-sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art the price and the prize, sahiba! For thee I would win the + throne!” + </p> + <p> + She actually laughed, and he winced palpably. There was no doubt that he + loved her after a manner of his own, and her contempt hurt him. + </p> + <p> + “I have said all I can say,” he told her. “I have promised all I can + promise. What more is there to say or offer? If I stay here, I swear on + the honor of a Rajput and a prince of royal blood, that every living man + and woman on this rock, excepting thee only, shall be dead within a week. + But if I escape by thy aid, and if, at thy instance, these Rangars and + their friends ride to my help against my brother, then I will throw all my + weight—men and influence—in the scale on the British side.” + </p> + <p> + “And—?” + </p> + <p> + “And thou shalt be Maharanee!” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + “But in case that the British should be beaten before we reach them, then, + sahiba! Then in case of thy need!” + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr-sahib, I will help you to escape tonight on the terms that you + have named—that you spare these Rangars and every living body on + this hill. Then I will do my utmost to persuade the Rangars to ride to + your assistance on your condition, that you lead your men to help the + British afterward. And if my action in helping you escape should make the + Rangars turn against me and my immediate friends, I shall claim your + protection. Is that agreed?” + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba—absolutely!” + </p> + <p> + “Then let me pass!” + </p> + <p> + Reluctantly he stood aside. She slipped out and let the bar down + unobserved. But she had not recovered all her self-possession when she + reached the courtyard. + </p> + <p> + “Evening, Miss McClean,” said Cunningham; and she all but fainted, she was + strained to such a pitch of nervousness. + </p> + <p> + “Where have you come from, Miss McClean?” asked Cunningham. And she told + him. She was not quite so stiff-chinned as she had been. + </p> + <p> + “What were you doing there?” + </p> + <p> + She told him that, too. + </p> + <p> + “Where is your father?” + </p> + <p> + “In his chair on the veranda, Mr. Cunningham. There, in that deep shadow.” + </p> + <p> + “Come to him, please. I want your explanation in his presence.” + </p> + <p> + She followed as obediently as a child. The sense of guilt—of fright—of + impending judgment left her as she walked with him, and gave place to a + glow of comfort that here should be a man on whom to lean. She did not + fight the new sensation, for she was growing strangely weary of the other + one. By the time that they had reached her father, and he was standing + before Cunningham wiping his spectacles in his nervous way, she had + completely recovered her self-possession, although it is likely she would + not have given any reason for it to herself. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham held a lantern up, so that he could study both their faces. His + own face muscles were set rigidly, and he questioned them as he might have + cross-examined a spy caught in the act. His voice was uncompromising, and + his manner stern. + </p> + <p> + “Do you both understand how serious this situation is?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “We naturally do,” said Duncan McClean. The Scotsman was beginning to + betray an inclination to bridle under the youngster's attitude, and to + show an equally pronounced desire not to appear to. “More so, probably, + than anybody else!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you positive—both of you—you too, Mr. McClean—that + all that talk about treasure in Howrah City is not mere imagination and + legend?” + </p> + <p> + “Absolutely positive!” They both answered him at once, both looking in his + eyes across the unsteady rays of the flickering, smoky lamp. “The amount + has been, of course, much exaggerated,” said McClean, “but I have no doubt + there is enough there to pay the taxes of all India for a year or two.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I have another question to ask. Do you both—or do you not—place + yourselves at the service of the Company? It is likely to be dangerous—a + desperate service. But the Company needs all that it can muster.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course we do!” Again both answered in one breath. + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand that that involves taking my orders?” + </p> + <p> + This time Duncan McClean did the answering, and now it was he who seized + the lamp. He held it high, and scanned Cunningham's face as though he were + reading a finely drawn map. + </p> + <p> + “We are prepared—I speak for my daughter as well as for myself—to + obey any orders that you have a right to give, young man.” + </p> + <p> + “You misunderstand me,” answered Cunningham. “I am offering you the + opportunity to serve the Company. As the Company's senior officer in the + neighborhood, I am responsible to the Company for such orders as I see fit + to give. I could not have my orders questioned. I don't mind telling you + that I'm asking you, as British subjects, no more than I intend to ask + Alwa and his Rangars. You can do as much as they are going to be asked to + do. You can't do more. But you can do less if you like. You are being + given the opportunity now to offer your services unconditionally—that + is to say in the only manner in which I will accept them. Otherwise you + will remain non-combatants, and I shall take such measures for your safety + as I see fit. Time presses. Your answer, please!” + </p> + <p> + “I will obey your legal orders,” said McClean, still making full use of + the lantern. + </p> + <p> + “I refuse to admit the qualification,” answered Cunningham promptly. + “Either you will obey, or you will not. You are asked to say which, that + is all.” + </p> + <p> + “I will obey,” said Rosemary McClean quietly. She said it through straight + lips and in a level voice that carried more assurance than a string of + loud-voiced oaths. + </p> + <p> + “And you, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Since my daughter sees fit to—ah—capitulate, I have no + option.” + </p> + <p> + “Be good enough to be explicit.” + </p> + <p> + “I agree to obey your orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you.” He seemed to have finished with McClean. He turned away from + him and faced Rosemary, not troubling to examine her face closely as he + had done her father's, but seeming none the less to give her full + attention. “I understood you to say that you promised to help Prince + Jaimihr to escape from his cell tonight?” + </p> + <p> + “WHAT?” + </p> + <p> + Duncan McClean could not have acted such amazement. Cunningham desired no + further evidence that he had not been accessory to his daughter's visit to + the prisoner. He silenced him with a gesture. And now his eyes seemed for + the time being to have finished with both of them; in spite of the + darkness they both knew that he had resumed the far-away look that seemed + able to see things finished. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Rosemary. “I promised. I had to.” + </p> + <p> + Her father gasped. But Cunningham appeared to follow an unbroken chain of + thought, and she listened. + </p> + <p> + “Well. You will both realize readily that we, as British subjects, are + ranged all together on one side opposed to treachery, as represented by + the large majority of the natives. That means that our first consideration + must be to keep our given word. What we say,—what we promise—what + we boast—must tally with what we undertake, and at the least try, to + do. You must keep your word to Jaimihr, Miss McClean!” + </p> + <p> + She stared back at Cunningham through wide, unfrightened eyes. Whatever + this man said to her, she seemed unable to feel fear while she had his + attention. Her father seemed utterly bewildered, and she held his hand to + reassure him. + </p> + <p> + “On the other hand, we cannot be guilty of a breach of faith to our friend + Alwa here. I must have a little talk with him before I issue any orders. + Please wait here and—ah—do nothing while I talk to Alwa. Did + you—ah—did you agree to marry Jaimihr, should he make you + Maharanee?” + </p> + <p> + “No! I told him I would rather die!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. That makes matters easier. Now tell me over again from the + beginning what you know about the political situation in Howrah. Quickly, + please. Consider yourself a scout reporting to his officer.” + </p> + <p> + Ten minutes later Cunninham heard a commotion by the parapet, and stalked + off to find Alwa, close followed by Mahommed Gunga. The grim old Rajput + was grinning in his beard as he recognized the set of what might have been + Cunningham the elder's shoulders. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ye may go and lay your praise + At a shrine of other days + By the tomb of him who gat, and her who bore me; + My plan is good—my way— + The sons of kings obey— + But, I'm reaping where another sowed before me. +</pre> + <p> + JAIDEV SINGH was a five-K man, with the hair, breeches, bangle, comb, and + dagger that betoken him who has sworn the vow of Khanda ka Pahul. Every + item of the Sikh ritual was devised with no other motive than to preserve + the fighting character of the organization. The very name Singh means + lion. The Sikh's long hair with the iron ring hidden underneath is meant + as a protection against sword-cuts. And because their faith is rather + spiritual than fanatical—based rather on the cause of things than on + material effect—men of that creed take first rank among fighting + men. + </p> + <p> + Jaidev Singh arrived soon after the moon had risen. The notice of his + coming was the steady drumming footfall of his horse, that slowed + occasionally, and responded to the spur again immediately. + </p> + <p> + Close to the big iron gate below Alwa's eyrie there were some of Jaimihr's + cavalry nosing about among the trampled gardens for the dead and wounded + they had left there earlier in the afternoon. They ceased searching, and + formed up to intercept whoever it might be who rode in such a hurry. Above + them, on the overhanging ramparts, there was quick discussion, and one man + left his post hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “A horseman from the West!” he announced, breaking in on Alwa's privacy + without ceremony. + </p> + <p> + “One?” + </p> + <p> + “One only.” + </p> + <p> + “For us or them?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa—glad enough of the relief from puzzling his brain—ran to + the rampart and looked long at the moving dot that was coming noisily + toward his fastness but that gave no sign of its identity or purpose. + </p> + <p> + “Whoever he is can see them,” he vowed. “The moon shines full on them. + Either he is a man of theirs or else a madman!” + </p> + <p> + He watched for five more minutes without speaking. Cunningham and Mahommed + Gunga, coming out at last in search of him, saw the strained figures of + the garrison peering downward through the yellow moon rays, and took stand + on either side of him to gaze, too, in spellbound silence. + </p> + <p> + “If he is their man,” said Alwa presently, “he will turn now. He will + change direction and ride for the main body of them yonder. He can see + them now easily. Yes. See. He is their man!” + </p> + <p> + On a horse that staggered gamely—silhouetted and beginning to show + detail in the yellow light—a man whose nationality or caste could + not be recognized rode straight for the bivouacking cavalry, and a swarm + of them rode out at a walk to meet him. + </p> + <p> + The tension on the ramparts was relaxed then. As a friend in direst need + the man would have been welcome. As one of enemy, with a message for them, + however urgent, he was no more than an incident. + </p> + <p> + “By Allah!” roared Alwa suddenly. “That is no man of theirs! Quick! To the + wheels! Man the wheels! Eight men to horse!” + </p> + <p> + He took the cord himself, to send the necessary signal down into the belly + of the rock. From his stables, where men and horses seemed to stand ready + day and night, ten troopers cantered out, scattering the sparks, the + whites of their horses' eyes and their drawn blades gleaming; without + another order they dipped down the breakneck gorge, to wait below. The + oncoming rider had wheeled again; he had caught the cavalry, that rode to + meet him, unawares. They were not yet certain whether he was friend or + foe, and they were milling in a bunch, shouting orders to one another. He, + spurring like a maniac, was heading straight for the searching party, who + had formed to cut him off. He seemed to have thrown his heart over Alwa's + iron gate and to be thundering on hell's own horse in quest of it again. + </p> + <p> + Alwa's eight slipped down the defile as quickly as phantoms would have + dared in that tricky moon-light. One of them shouted from below. Alwa + jerked the cord, and the great gate yawned, well-oiled and silent. The + oncomer raced straight for the middle of the intercepting line of + horsemen; they—knowing him by this time for no friend—started + to meet him; and Alwa's eight, unannounced and unexpected, whirled into + them from the rear. + </p> + <p> + In a second there was shouting, blind confusion—eddying and trying + to reform. The lone galloper pulled clear, and Alwa's men drove his + opponents, crupper over headstall, into a body of the main contingent who + had raced up in pursuit. They rammed the charge home, and reeled through + both detachments—then wheeled at the spur and cut their way back + again, catching up their man at the moment that his horse dropped dead + beneath him. They seized him beneath the arms and bore him through as the + great gate dropped and cut his horse in halves. Then one man took the + galloper up behind his saddle, and bore him up the hill unquestioned until + he could dismount in front of Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Who art thou?” demanded the owner of the rock, recognizing a warrior by + his trademarks, but in no way moderating the natural gruffness of his + voice. Alwa considered that his inviolable hospitality should be too well + known and understood to call for any explanation or expression; he would + have considered it an insult to the Sikh's intelligence to have mouthed a + welcome; he let it go for granted. + </p> + <p> + “Jaidev Singh—galloper to Byng-bahadur. I bring a letter for the + Risaldar Mahommed Gunga, or for Cunnigan-sahib, whichever I can find + first.” + </p> + <p> + “They are both here.” + </p> + <p> + “Then my letter is for both of them.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham and Mahommed Gunga each took one step forward, and the Sikh + gave Cunningham a tiny, folded piece of paper, stuck together along one + edge with native gum. He tore it open, read it in the light of a trooper's + lantern, and then read it again aloud to Mahommed Gunga, pitching his + voice high enough for Alwa to listen if he chose. + </p> + <p> + “What are you two men doing?” ran the note. “The very worst has happened. + We all need men immediately, and I particularly need them. One hundred + troopers now would be better than a thousand men a month from now. Hurry, + and send word by bearer. S. F. BYNG.” + </p> + <p> + “How soon can you start back?” asked Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “The minute I am provided with a horse, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham turned to Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Will you be kind enough to feed him, Alwa-sahib?” + </p> + <p> + Alwa resented the imputation against his hospitality instantly. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I was waiting for his money in advance!” he laughed. “Food waits, + thou. Thou art a Sikh—thou eatest meat—meat, then, is ready.” + </p> + <p> + The Sikh, or at least the true Sikh, is not hampered by a list of caste + restrictions. All of his precepts, taken singly or collectively, bid him + be nothing but a man, and no law forbids him accept the hospitality of + soldiers of another creed. So Jaidev Singh walked off to feed on curried + beef that would have made a Hindoo know himself for damned. Cunningham + then turned on Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Now is the time, Alwa-sahib,” he said in a level voice. “My party can + start off with this man and our answer, if your answer is no. If your + answer is yes, then the Sikh can bear that answer for us.” + </p> + <p> + “You would none of you ride half a mile alive!” laughed Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “I none the less require an answer, Alwa-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa stared hard at him. That was the kind of talk that went straight to + his soldier heart. He loved a man who held to his point in the teeth of + odds. The odds, it seemed to him, were awfully against Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “So was thy father,” he said slowly. “My cousin said thou wast thy + father's son!” + </p> + <p> + “I require an answer by the time that the Sikh has finished eating,” said + Cunningham. “Otherwise, Alwa-sabib, I shall regret the necessity of + foregoing further hospitality at your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “Bismillah! Am I servant here or master?” wondered Alwa, loud enough for + all his men to hear. Then he thought better of his dignity. “Sahib,” he + insisted, “I will not talk here before my men. We will have another + conference.” + </p> + <p> + “I concede you ten minutes,” said Cunningham, preparing to follow him, and + followed in turn by Mohammed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Now, swore the Risaldar into his beard, we shall see the reaching of + decisions! Now, by the curse of the sack of Chitor we shall know who is on + whose side, or I am no Rangar, nor the son of one!” + </p> + <p> + “I have a suggestion to make, sahib,” smiled Alwa, closing the door of the + rock-hewn chamber on the three of them. + </p> + <p> + “Hear mine first!” said Cunningham, with a hint of iron in his voice. + </p> + <p> + “Ay! Hear his first! Hear Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur!” echoed Mahommed Gunga. + “Let us hear a plan worth hearing!” And Alwa looked into a pair of steady + eyes that seemed to see through him—past him—to the finished + work beyond. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “You are pledged to uphold Howrah on his throne?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, I guarantee you shall! You shall not go to the Company's aid until + you have satisfactory guarantees that your homes and friends will not be + assailed behind your backs.” + </p> + <p> + “Guarantees to whose satisfaction, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Yours!” + </p> + <p> + “But with whom am I dealing?” Alwa seemed actually staggered. “Who makes + these promises? The Company?” + </p> + <p> + “I give you my solemn word of honor on it!” + </p> + <p> + “It is at least a man who speaks!” swore Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “It is the son of Cunnigan-bahadur!” growled Mahommed Gunga, standing chin + erect. He seemed in no doubt now of the outcome. He was merely waiting for + it with soldierly and ill-concealed impatience. + </p> + <p> + “But, sahib—” + </p> + <p> + “Alwa-sahib, we have no time for argument. It is yes or no. I must send an + answer back by that Sikh. He must—he shall take my answer! Either + you are loyal to our cause or you are not. Are you?” + </p> + <p> + “By the breath of God, sahib, I am thinking you leave me little choice!” + </p> + <p> + “I still await an answer. I am calling on you for as many men as you can + raise, and I have made you specific promises. Choose, Alwa-sahib. Yes or + no?” + </p> + <p> + “The answer is yes—but—” + </p> + <p> + “Then I understand that you undertake to obey my orders without question + until such time as a senior to me can be found to take over the command.” + </p> + <p> + “That is contingent on the agreement,” hesitated Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “I would like your word of honor, Alwa-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “I pledge that not lightly, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “For that very good reason I am asking for it. I shall know how far to + trust when I have your word of honor!” + </p> + <p> + “I knew thy father! Thou art his son! I trusted him for good reason and + with good result. I will trust thee also. My word is given, on thy + conditions, sahib. First, the guarantees before we ride to the British + aid!” + </p> + <p> + And you obey my orders? + </p> + <p> + “Yes. My word is given, sahib. The oath of a Rajput, of a Rangar, of a + soldier, of a zemindar of the House of Kachwaha; the oath of a man to a + man, sahib; the promise of thy father's friend to thy father's son! + Bahadur”—he drew himself to his full height, and clicked his spurs + together—“I am thy servant!” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham saluted. All three men looked in each other's eyes and a bond + was sealed between them that nothing less than death could sever. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Cunningham quite quietly. “And now, Alwa-sahib”—(he + could strike while the iron glowed, could this son of Cunnigan!)—“for + the plan. There is little time. Jaimihr must escape tonight!” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, did I understand aright?” + </p> + <p> + Alwa's jaw had actually dropped. He looked as though he had been struck. + Mahommed Gunga slammed his sabre ferule on the stone floor. He too, was + hard put to it to believe his ears. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr is the key to the position. He is nothing but a nuisance where he + is. Outside he can be made to help us.” + </p> + <p> + “Am I dreaming, or art thou, sahib?” Alwa stood with fists clinched on his + hips and his legs apart—incredulous. “Jaimihr to go free? Why that + Hindoo pig is the source of all the trouble in the district!” + </p> + <p> + “We are neither of us dreaming, Alwa-sahib. Jaimihr is the dreamer. Let + him dream in Howrah City for a day or two, while we get ready. Let him + lead his men away and leave the road clear for us to pass in and out.” + </p> + <p> + “But—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I know. He is your prisoner, and your honor is involved, and all that + kind of thing. I'm offering you, to set off against that, a much greater + honor than you ever experienced in your whole life yet, and I've put my + order in the shape of a request for the sake of courtesy. I ask you again + to let me arrange for Jaimihr to escape.” + </p> + <p> + “I was mad. But it seems that I have passed my word!” swore Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “I give you your word back again, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Bismillah! I refuse it!” + </p> + <p> + “Then I do with Jaimihr as I like?” + </p> + <p> + “I gave my word, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. You'll be glad before we've finished. Now I've left the raising + of as many men as can be raised to you, Alwa-sahib. You will remember that + you gave your promise on that count, too.” + </p> + <p> + “I will keep that promise, too, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. You shall have a road clear by tonight.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped back a pace, awaited their salute with the calm, assured + authority of a general of division, returned it, and left the two Rajputs + looking in each other's eyes. + </p> + <p> + “What is this, cousin, that thou hast brought me to?” demanded Alwa. + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga laughed and shook his sabre, letting it rattle in its + scabbard. + </p> + <p> + “This? This is the edge of the war that I promised thee a year ago! This + is the service of which I spoke! This is the beginning of the + blood-spilling! I have brought thee the leader of whom we spoke in Howrah + City. Dost remember, cousin? I recall thy words!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I recall them. I said then that I would follow a second Cunnigan, + could such be found.” + </p> + <p> + “And this is he!” vowed Mahommed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! But we Rangars have a leader! A man of men!” + </p> + <p> + “But this plan of his? This loosing of the trapped wolf—what of + that?” + </p> + <p> + “I neither know nor care, as yet! I trust him! I am his man, as I was his + father's! I have seen him; I have heard him; I have felt his pulse in the + welter of the wrath of God. I know him. Whatever plans he makes, whatever + way he leads, those are my plans, my road! I serve the son of Cunnigan!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Did he swear with his leg in a spring-steel trap + And a tongue dry-cracked from thirst? + Or down on his knees at his lady's lap + With the lady's lips to his own, mayhap, + And his head and his heart aburst? + Nay! I have listened to vows enough + And never the oath could bind + Save that, that a free man chose to take + For his own good reputation's sake! + They're qualified—they're tricks—they break— + They're words, the other kind! +</pre> + <p> + MAHOMMED GUNGA had long ago determined to “go it blind” on Cunningham. He + had known him longest and had the greatest right. Rosemary McClean, who + knew him almost least of all, so far as length of time was concerned, was + ready now to trust him as far as the Risaldar dared go; her limit was as + long and as devil-daring as Mahommed Gunga's. Whatever Scots reserve and + caution may have acted as a brake on Duncan McClean's enthusiasm were + offset by the fact that his word was given; so far as he was concerned, he + was now as much and as obedient a servant of the Company as either of the + others. Nor was his attitude astonishing. + </p> + <p> + Alwa's was the point of view that was amazing, unexpected, brilliant, + soldierly, unselfish—all the things, in fact, that no one had the + least right to expect it to turn out to be. Two or three thousand men + looked to him as their hereditary chieftain who alone could help them hold + their chins high amid an overwhelming Hindoo population; his position was + delicate, and he might have been excused for much hesitation, and even for + a point-blank refusal to do what he might have preferred personally. He + and his stood to lose all that they owned—their honor—and the + honor of their wives and families, should they fight on the wrong side. + Even as a soldier who had passed his word, he might have been excused for + a lot of wordy questioning of orders, for he had enough at stake to make + anybody cautious. + </p> + <p> + Yet, having said his say and sworn a dozen God-invoking Rangar oaths + before he pledged his word, and then having pledged it, he threw Rajput + tradition and the odds against him into one bottomless discard and + proceeded to show Cunningham exactly what his fealty meant. + </p> + <p> + “By the boots and beard of Allah's Prophet!” he swore, growing + freer-tongued now that his liberty of action had been limited. “Here we + stand and talk like two old hags, Mahommed Gunga! My word is given. Let us + find out now what this fledgling general of thine would have us do. If he + is to release my prisoner, at least I would like to get amusement out of + it!” + </p> + <p> + So he and Mahommed Gunga swaggered across the courtyard to where + Cunningham had joined the McCleans again. + </p> + <p> + “We come with aid and not objections, sahib,” he assured him. “If we + listen, it may save explanations afterward.” + </p> + <p> + So at a sign from Cunningham they enlarged the circle, and the East and + West—bearded and clean-shaven, priest and soldiers, Christian and + Mohammedan—stood in a ring, while almost the youngest of them—by + far the youngest man of them—laid down the law for all. His eyes + were all for Rosemary McClean, but his gestures included all of them, and + they all answered him with nods or grunts as each saw fit. + </p> + <p> + “Send for the Sikh!” commanded Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later, with a lump of native bread still in his fist, Jaidev + Singh walked up and saluted. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Byng-bahadur now?” asked Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “At Deeseera, sahib—not shut in altogether, but hard pressed. There + came cholera, and Byng-bahadur camped outside the town. He has been + striking, sahib, striking hard with all too few to help him. His + irregulars, sahib, were disbanded at some one's orders just before this + outbreak, but some of them came back at word from him. And there were some + of us Sikhs who knew him, and who would rather serve him and die than + fight against him and live. He has now two British regiments with him, + sadly thinned—some of my people, some Goorkhas, some men from the + North—not very many more than two thousand men all told, having lost + heavily in action and by disease. But word is going round from mouth to + mouth that many sahibs have been superseded, and that only real sahibs + such as Byng-bahadur have commands in this hour. Byng-bahadur is a man of + men. We who are with him begin to have courage in our bones again. Is the + answer ready? Yet a little while? It is well, sahib, I will rest. Salaam!” + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said Cunningham, “the situation's desperate. We've got to act. + Alwa here stands pledged to protect Howrah and you have promised to aid + Jaimihr. Somebody's word has got to break, and you may take it from me + that it will be the word of the weakest man! I think that that man is + Jaimihr, but I can't be sure in advance, and we've got to accept his + promise to begin with. Go to him, Miss McClean, and make a very careful + bargain with him along the line I mapped out for you. Alwa-sahib, I want + witnesses, or rather overhearers. I want you and Mahommed Gunga to place + yourselves near Jaimihr's cell so that you can hear what he says. There + won't be any doubt then about who has broken promises. Are you ready, Miss + McClean?” + </p> + <p> + She was trembling, but from excitement and not fear. Both Rajputs saluted + her as she started back for the cell, and whatever their Mohammedan ideas + on women may have been, they chose to honor this one, who was so evidently + one of them in the hour of danger. Duncan McClean seemed to be praying + softly, for his lips moved. + </p> + <p> + When the cell-door creaked open, Alwa and Mahommed Gunga were crouched one + on either side, listening with the ears of soldiers that do not let many + sounds or words escape them. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr-sahib!” she whispered. “Jaimihr-sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Sahiba!” Then he called her by half a dozen names that made the + listening Rangars grin into their beards. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr-sahib”—she raised her voice a little now—“if I help + you to escape, will you promise me my safety under all conditions?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sahiba!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you swear to protect every living person on this hill, including the + Alwa-sahib and Cunningham-sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sahiba.” + </p> + <p> + “You swear it?” + </p> + <p> + “I swear it on my honor. There is no more sacred oath.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, listen. I can help you to escape now. I have a rope that is long + enough to lower you over the parapet. I am prepared to risk the + consequences, but I want to bargain with you for aid for my Countrymen.” + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr did not answer. + </p> + <p> + “The Alwa-sahib and his Rangars stand pledged to help your brother!” + </p> + <p> + “I guessed at least that much,” laughed Jaimihr. + </p> + <p> + “They would not help you against him under any circumstances. But they + want to ride to the Company's aid, and they might be prepared to protect + you against him. They might guarantee the safety of your palace and your + men's homes. They might exact a guarantee from Howrah.” + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr laughed aloud, careless of the risk of being overheard, and + Rosemary knew that Cunningham's little plan was useless even before it had + been quite expounded. She felt herself trembling for the consequences. + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba, there is only one condition that would make me ride to the + British aid with all my men.” + </p> + <p> + “Name it!” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art it!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you, Jaimihr-sahib,” she whispered, understanding all + too well. + </p> + <p> + “Follow me. Come to me in Howrah. Then whatever these fool Rangars choose + to do, I swear by Siva and the Rites of Siva that I will hurry to the + Company's aid!” + </p> + <p> + Rosemary McClean shuddered, and he knew it. But that fact rather added to + his pleasure. The wolf prefers a cowering, frightened prey even though he + dare fight on occasion. She was thinking against time. Through that one + small, overburdened head, besides a splitting headache, there was flashing + the ghastly thought of what was happening to her countrymen and women—of + what would happen unless she hurried to do something for their aid. All + the burden of all warring India seemed to be resting on her shoulders, in + a stifling cell; and Jaimihr seemed to be the only help in sight. + </p> + <p> + “How many men could you summon to the Company's aid?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + He laughed. “Ten thousand!” he boasted. + </p> + <p> + “Armed and drilled men—soldiers fit to fight?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that is a lie, Jaimihr-sahib. There is not time enough to waste + on lies. Tell me the exact truth, please.” + </p> + <p> + He contrived to save his face, or, rather, he contrived to make himself + believe he did. + </p> + <p> + “I would need some to guard my rear,” he answered. “I could lead five + thousand to the British aid.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the truth?” + </p> + <p> + “On my honor, sahiba.” + </p> + <p> + “And you wish to marry me?” + </p> + <p> + “Sahiba—I—I have no other wish!” + </p> + <p> + “I agree to marry you provided you will lead five thousand men to the + Company's aid, but not until you have done so.” + </p> + <p> + “You will come to Howrah?” + </p> + <p> + She could feel his excitement. The cell walls seemed to throb. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but I shall come accompanied by my father, and Mr. Cunningham, and + all the Rangars he can raise. And I shall hold you to your bargain. You + must help the Company first. FIRST—d'you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “I understand.” + </p> + <p> + It was Jaimihr's turn now to lay the law down. She had let him see her + eagerness to gain his aid for the Company, and he saw the weakness of her + case in an instant. He knew very well, too, that no woman of her breed + would have thought of consenting to marry him unless her hand was forced. + He decided immediately to force it further. + </p> + <p> + “I understand, sahiba. I, too, will hold thee to thy promise! Thou wilt + come with an escort, as befits a prince's wife! But how should I know that + the Rangars would prove friends of mine? How should I know that it is not + all a trap?” + </p> + <p> + “You will have my promise to depend on.” + </p> + <p> + “Truly! And there will be how many hundred men to override the promise of + one woman? Nay! My word is good; my promise holds; but on my own + conditions! Help me to escape. Then follow me to Howrah City. Come in + advance of thy Rangar escort. By that I will know that the Rangars and + this Cunningham are my friends—otherwise they would not let thee + come. The Rangars are to exact guarantees from my brother? How should I + know that they do not come to help my brother crush me out of existence? + With thee in my camp as hostage I would risk agreement with them, but not + otherwise. Escape with me now, or follow. But bring no Rangars, sahiba! + Come alone!” + </p> + <p> + “I will not. I would not dare trust you.” + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr laughed. “I have been reckoning, sahiba, how many hours will pass + before my army comes to rip this nest of Alwa's from its roots, and defile + the whole of it! If I am to spare the people on this rock, then I must + hurry! Should my men come here to carry me away, they will be less + merciful than I! Choose, sahiba! Let me go, and I will spare these Rangars + until such time as they earn punishment anew. Or let me go, and follow me. + Then fight with the Rangars and for the Company, with thee as the price of + my alliance. Or leave me in this cell until my men come to rescue me. The + last would be the simplest way! Or it would be enough to help me escape + and wait until I have done my share at conquering the British. Then I + could come and claim thee! Choose, sahiba; there are many ways, though + they all end in one goal.” + </p> + <p> + “If I am the price of your allegiance,” said Rosemary, “then I will pay + the price. Five thousand men for the British cause are dearer to me than + my own happiness. I promise, Jaimihr-sahib, that I will come to you in + Howrah. I shall come accompanied by one servant, named Joanna, and—I + think—by my father; and the Rangars and Mr. Cunningham shall be at + least a day's ride behind me. I give my word on that. But—I can + promise you, on Mr. Cunningham's behalf, and on the Alwa-sahib's, and + Mahommed Gunga's, that should you have made any attempt against my liberty—should + you have offered me any insult or indignity—before they come—should + you have tried to anticipate the terms of your agreement—then—then—there + would be an end of bargaining and promises, Jaimihr-sahib, and your life + would be surely forfeit! Do you understand?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sahiba!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you agree?” + </p> + <p> + “I already have agreed. They are my terms. I named them!” + </p> + <p> + “I would like to hear you promise, on your honor.” + </p> + <p> + “I swear by all my gods and by my honor. I swear by my love, that is + dearer to me than a throne, and by the name and the honor of a Rajput!” + </p> + <p> + “Be ready, then. I am going now to hide the rope in the shadow of the + wall. It will take perhaps fifteen minutes. Be ready.” + </p> + <p> + He made a quick movement to embrace her, but she slipped out and escaped + him; and he thought better of his sudden plan to follow her, remembering + that her word was likely to be good, whatever his might be. He elected to + wait inside until she returned for him. He little knew that he missed the + downward swing of Alwa's sabre, that was waiting, poised and balanced for + him, in the darkness by the door. + </p> + <p> + “Bismillah! I would have had a right to kill him had he followed her and + broken faith so early in the business!” Alwa swore, excusing his + impatience to Mahommed Gunga. “Have no fear, sahib!” he counselled + Cunningham a moment later, laying a heavy hand on the boy's arm. “Let her + keep her promises. That Hindoo pig will not keep his! We will be after + her, and surely—surely we will find good cause for some + throat-slitting as well as the cancelling of marriage promises!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you understand, Alwa-sahib, that—if Jaimihr keeps his promise to + her, she must keep hers to him? Do you realize that?” + </p> + <p> + “Allah! Listen to him! Yes, sahib. Truly, bahadur, I appreciate! I also + know that I have given certain promises which I, too, must fulfil! She is + not the only bargainer! I am worrying more about those guarantees that + Howrah was to give—I am anxious to see how, with fifteen hundred, we + are to get the better of a Rajah and his brother and their total of ten + thousand! I want to see those promises performed! Ay! The Miss-sahib has + done well. She has done her share. Let her continue. And do thou thy + share, bahadur! I am at thy back with my men, but give us action!” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham held up a lantern, and looked straight at Duncan McClean. The + missionary had held his daughter's hand while she recounted what had + happened in the cell. Whatever he may have thought, he had uttered no word + of remonstrance. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, we go to Howrah ahead of you,” he answered to Cunningham's + unspoken question. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham held out his right hand, and the missionary shook it. + </p> + <p> + “Hold the lamp, please,” said Cunningham, and Mahommed Gunga seized it. + Then Cunningham took paper and a pencil and read aloud the answer that he + wrote to Byng-bahadur. He wrote it in Greek characters for fear lest it + might fall into the enemy's hands and be too well understood. + </p> + <p> + “I can be with you in one week, sir, and perhaps sooner. Unless we are all + killed in the meantime we should number more than fifteen hundred when we + come. Expect either all or none of us. The situation here is critical, but + our course seems clear, and we ought to pull through. Mahommed Gunga sends + salaams. Your obedient servant, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “RALPH CUNNINGHAM.” + </pre> + <p> + “Would God I could see the clear course!” laughed Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Call the Sikh, please.” + </p> + <p> + The Sikh came running, and Cunningham gave him the folded note. + </p> + <p> + “Have you a horse for him, Alwa-sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “That has been attended to, sahib,” the Sikh answered. “The Alwa-sahib has + given me a wonder of a horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, then, Jaidev Singh. Watch your chance. Go to the parapet, and + when you see by their lanterns that the cavalry below have ridden off, + then race for all you're worth with that news for Byng-bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, sahib!” said the Sikh. + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, Jaidev Singh. And now hide, every-body! Don't let Jaimihr get the + impression that we're playing with him.” + </p> + <p> + A little later Miss McClean led Jaimihr through a passage in the rock, off + which axe-hewn cells led on either side, to the far side of the summit, + where the parapet was higher but the wall was very much less sheer. The + Prince's arms were still too sore from the wrenching he received when they + took him prisoner for him to dare trust himself hand over hand on a rope; + she had to make the rope fast beneath his armpits, and then lower him + slowly, taking two turns with the rope round the waist of a brass cannon. + The Prince fended himself off the ragged wall with hands and feet, and + called up instructions to her as loudly as he dared. + </p> + <p> + It was a tremendous drop. For the last fifty or more feet the wall rose + straight, overhung by a ridge that rasped the rope. And the rope proved + fifteen feet or more too short. Rosemary paid out as much of it as she + dared, and then made the end fast round the cannon, leaning over to see + whether Jaimihr would have sense enough or skill enough to cut himself + free and fall. But he hung where he was and spun, and it was five minutes + before Rosemary remembered that his weapons had all been taken from him! + It was scarcely likely that he could bite the thick rope through with his + teeth! + </p> + <p> + She stood then for two or three more minutes wondering what to do, for she + had no knife of her own, and she had made the rope fast—woman-wise—with + a true landlubber's knot that tightened from the strain until her + struggling fingers could not make the least impression on it. But Alwa + walked up openly—drew his heavy sabre—and saved the situation + for her. + </p> + <p> + “That may help to jog his recollection of the bargain!” he laughed, + severing the rope with a swinging cut and peering over to see, if he + could, how Jaimihr landed. By a miracle the Prince landed on his feet. He + sat down for a moment to recover from the shock, and then walked off + awkwardly to where his cavalry were sleeping by their horses. + </p> + <p> + He had some trouble in persuading the outposts who he really was, and + there was an argument that could be quite distinctly heard from the summit + of the rock, and made Alwa roar with laughter before, finally, the whole + contingent formed and wheeled and moved away, ambling toward Howrah City + at a pace that betokened no unwillingness. + </p> + <p> + Five minutes later the Sikh's horse thundered out across the plain from + under Alwa's iron gate, and the news, such as it was, was on its way to + Byng-bahadur. + </p> + <p> + “A clear road at the price of a horse-hide rope!” laughed Alwa. “Now for + some real man's work!” + </p> + <p> + Rosemary stole off to argue with her father and her conscience, but Alwa + went to his troopers' quarters and told off ten good men for the task of + manning the fortress in his absence. They were ten unwilling men; it + needed all his gruff authority, and now and then a threat, to make them + stay behind. + </p> + <p> + “I must leave ten men behind,” he insisted. “It takes four men, even at a + pinch, to lift the gate. And who shall guard my women? Nay, I should leave + twenty, and I must leave ten. Therefore I leave the ten best men I have, + and they who stay behind may know by that that I consider them the best!” + </p> + <p> + The remainder of his troopers he sent out one by one in different + directions, with orders to rally every Rangar they could find, and at a + certain point he named. Then he and Mahommed Gunga said good-by to + Cunningham and took a trail that led in the direction where most of the + doubtfuls lived—the men who might need personal convincing—rousing—awakening + from lethargy. + </p> + <p> + “You think I ought to stay behind?” asked Cunningham, who had already made + his mind up but chose to consult Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sahib. If for no other reason, then to make sure that that priest + of thine and his daughter make tracks for Howrah City! While he is here he + is a priest, and we Rangars have our own ideas on what they are good for! + When he is there he will be a man maneuvering to save his own life and his + daughter's reputation! See that he starts, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + He rode off then. But before Mahommed Gunga saw fit to follow him he + legged his charger close to Cunningham for a final word or two. + </p> + <p> + “Have no fear now, bahadur—no anxiety! Three days hence there will + be a finer regiment to lead than ever thundered in thy father's wake—a + regiment of men, sahib, for a man to lead and love!—a regiment that + will trust thee, sahib! See thou to the guarantees! Rung Ho, bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + “Rung Ho! See you again, Mahommed Gunga!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Sabres and spurs and jingling bits— + (Ho! But the food to feed them!) + Sinews and eyes and ears and wits— + (Hey! But the troopers need them!) + Sahib, mount! Thy chargers fling + Foam to the night—thy trumpets sing— + Thy lance-butts on the stirrups ring— + Mount, sahib! Blood them! Lead them! +</pre> + <p> + IT was arranged that the McCleans, with old Joanna, should start at dawn + for Howrah City, and they were, both of them, too overcome with mingled + dread and excitement to even try to sleep. Joanna, very much as usual, + snoozed comfortably, curled in a blanket in a corner. + </p> + <p> + They would run about a hundred different risks, not least of which was the + chance of falling in with a party of Howrah's men. In fact, if they should + encounter anybody before bringing up at Jaimihr's palace it was likely + that the whole plan would fizzle into nothing. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham, after fossicking for a long time in Aliva's armory—that + contained, besides weapons of the date, a motley assortment of the tools + of war that would have done great credit to a museum of antiquities—produced + two pistols. He handed, one to the missionary and one to Miss McClean, + advising her to hide hers underneath her clothing. “You know what they're + for?” he asked. “No. You'd gain nothing by putting up a fight. They're + loaded. All you've got to do is jerk the hammer back and pull the trigger, + and the best way not to miss is to hold the muzzle underneath your chin—this + way—keeping the butt well out from you. You make sure when you do + that. The only satisfaction you'll have, if it comes to suicide as a last + resource, will be that you've tried to do your duty and the knowledge that + you'll be avenged. I promise that. But I don't think you'll have any need + to do it—if I did think it I'd have thought twice before sending + you.” + </p> + <p> + “How does such a very young man as you come to have all this + responsibility?” asked Rosemary, taking the pistol without a shudder. She + laughed then as she noticed Cunningham's discomfort and recognized the + decency that hates to talk about itself. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I know my own mind,” he answered. “These other awfully decent + fellows don't, that's all—if you except Mahommed Gunga. That chap's + a wonder. 'Pon my soul, it seems he knew this was coming and picked me + from the start to take charge over here. Seems, owing to my dad's + reputation, these Rangars think me a sort of reincarnation of efficiency. + I've got to try and live up to it, you know—same old game of reaping + what you didn't sow and hoping it'll all be over before you wake up! Won't + you try and get some sleep before morning? No? Come and sit over by the + parapet with me, then.” + </p> + <p> + He carried chairs for both of them to a point whence he could sit and + watch the track that led to Howrah and so help out the very meagre + garrison. There, until the waning moon dipped down below the sky-line, + they talked together—first about the task ahead of each of them; + then about the sudden ghastliness of the rebellion, whose extent not one + of them could really grasp as yet; last, and much longest, as familiarity + gradually grew between them, of youthful reminiscences and home—of + Eton and the Isle of Skye. + </p> + <p> + In the darkness and the comparative coolness that came between the setting + of the moon and dawn Rosemary fell asleep, her head pillowed in her + father's lap. For a while, then, seeing her only dimly through the night, + but conscious, as he could not help being, of her youth and charm and of + the act of self-sacrifice that she had undertaken without remonstrance, he + felt ashamed. He began to wonder whether there might not have been some + other way—whether he had any right, even for his country's sake, to + send a girl on such a mission. Misgiving began to sap his optimism, and + there was no Mahommed Gunga to stir the soldier in him and encourage + iron-willed pursuance of the game. He began to doubt; and doubt bred + silence. + </p> + <p> + He was wakened from a revery by Duncan McClean, who raised his daughter + tenderly and got up on his feet. + </p> + <p> + “The dawn will be here soon, Mr. Cunningham. We had better get ready. Well—in + case we never meet again—I'm glad I met you.” + </p> + <p> + “Better start before the sun gets up,” he answered, gripping the + missionary's hand. He was a soldier again. He had had the answer to his + thoughts! If the man who was to sacrifice his daughter—or risk her + sacrifice—was pleased to have met him, there was not much sense in + harboring self-criticism! He shook it off, and squared his shoulders, + beginning again to think of all that lay ahead. + </p> + <p> + “Trust to the old woman to guide you and show you a place to rest at, if + you must rest. You ought to reach Howrah at dusk tomorrow, for you'll find + it quite impossible to travel fast—you're both of you too stiff, for + one thing. Lie up somewhere—Joanna will know of a place—until + the old woman has taken in a message to Jaimihr, and wait until he sends + you some men to escort you through the outskirts of the city. I've got + disguises ready for you—a pugree for you, Mr. McClean, and a purdah + for your daughter—you'll travel as a Hindoo merchant and his wife. + If you get stopped, say very little, but show this.” + </p> + <p> + He produced the letter written once by Maharajah Howrah to the Alwa-sahib + and sent by galloper with the present of a horse. It was signed, and at + the bottom of it was the huge red royal seal. “Now go and put the disguise + on, while I see to the horses; I'm going to pick out quiet ones, if + possible, though I warn you they're rare in these parts.” + </p> + <p> + Some twenty minutes later he led their horses for them gingerly down the + slippery rock gorge, and waited at the bottom while six men wound the gate + up slowly. Rosemary McClean was quite unrecognizable, draped from head to + foot in a travelling veil that might have been Mohammedan or Hindoo, and + gave no outward sign as to her caste, or rank. McClean, in the full attire + of a fairly prosperous Hindoo, but with no other mark about him to betoken + that he might be worth robbing, rode in front of her, high-perched on a + native saddle. In front, on a desert pony, rode Joanna, garbed as a man. + </p> + <p> + “She ought to be travelling in a carriage of some kind,” admitted + Cunningham, “but we haven't got a single wheeled thing here. If any one + asks pertinent questions on the road, you'd better say that she had an + ekka, but that some Rangars took it from you. D'you think you know the + language well enough to pass muster?” + </p> + <p> + “It's a little late to ask me that!” laughed McClean. “Yes—I'm + positive I do. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + They shook hands again and the three rode off, cantering presently, to + make the most of the coolness before the sun got up. Cunningham climbed + slowly up the hill and then watched them from the parapet—wondering, + wondering again—whether he was justified. As he put it to himself, + it was “the hell of a position for a man to find himself in!” He caught + himself wondering whether his thoughts would have been the same, and + whether his conscience would have racked him quite as much, had Rosemary + McClean been older, and less lovely, and a little more sour-tongued. + </p> + <p> + He had to laugh presently at the absurdity of that notion, for Jaimihr + would never have bargained for possession of a sour-faced, elderly woman. + He came to the conclusion that the only thing he could do was to + congratulate the Raj because, at the right minute, the right good-looking + woman had been on the spot! But he did not like the circumstances any + better; and before two hours had passed the loneliness began to eat into + his soul. + </p> + <p> + Like any other man whose race and breed and training make him + self-dependent, he could be alone for weeks on end and scarcely be aware + that he had nobody to talk to. But his training had never yet included + sending women off on dangerous missions any more than it had taught him to + resist woman's attraction—the charm of a woman's voice, the lure of + a woman's eyes. He did not know what was the matter with him, but supposed + that his liver must be out of order or else that the sun had touched him. + </p> + <p> + Taking a chance on the liver diagnosis, he had out the attenuated + garrison, and drilled it, both mounted and dismounted, first on the + hilltop—where they made the walls re-echo to the clang of grounded + butts—and then on the plain below, with the gate wide open in their + rear and one man watching from the height above. When he had tired them + thoroughly, and himself as well, he set two men on the lookout and retired + to sleep; nor did the droning and the wailing music of some women in the + harem trouble him. + </p> + <p> + They called him regularly when the guard was changed, but he slept the + greater part of that day and stood watch all night. The next day, and the + third day, he drilled the garrison again, growing horribly impatient and + hourly more worried as to what Byng-bahadur might be doing, and thinking + of him. + </p> + <p> + It was evening of the fourth day when a Rangar woke him, squeezing at his + foot and standing silent by the cot. + </p> + <p> + “Huzoor—Mahommed Gunga comes!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank God!” + </p> + <p> + He ran to the parapet and watched in the fading light a little dust cloud + that followed no visible track but headed straight toward them over + desert. + </p> + <p> + “How d'you know that's Mahommed Gunga?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Who else, huzoor? Who else would ride from that direction all alone and + straight for this nest of wasps? Who else but Alwa or Mahommed Gunga? Alwa + said he would not come, but would wait yonder.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be one of Alwa's men.” + </p> + <p> + “We have many good men, sahib—and many good horses—but no man + or horse who could come at that pace after traversing those leagues of + desert! That is Mahommed Gunga, unless a new fire-eater has been found. + And what new man would know the way?” + </p> + <p> + Soon—staccato, like a drum-beat in the silence—came the + welcome, thrilling cadence of the horse's hoofs—the steady thunder + of a horse hard-ridden but not foundered. The sun went down and blackness + supervened, but the sound increased, as one lone rider raced with the + evening wind, head on. + </p> + <p> + It seemed like an hour before the lookout challenged from the crag that + overhung the gate—before the would-be English words rang out; and + all Asia and its jackals seemed to wait in silence for the answer. + </p> + <p> + “Howt-uh! Hukkums-thar!” + </p> + <p> + “Ma—hommed—Gunga—hai!” + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + The cheer broke bonds from the depth of Cunningham's being, and Mahommed + Gunga heard it on the plain below. There was a rush to man the wheels and + sweat the gate up, and Cunningham started to run down the zigzag pathway. + He thought better of it, though, and waited where the path gave out onto + the courtyard, giving the signal with the cords for the gate to lower away + again. + </p> + <p> + “Evening, Mahommed Gunga!” he said, almost casually, as the weary + charger's nose appeared above the rise. + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + He dismounted and saluted and then leaned against his horse. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder, sahib, whether the horse or I be weariest! Of your favor, + water, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham brought him water in a dipper, and the Rajput washed his + horse's mouth out, then held out the dipper again to Cunningham for fresh + charge for himself. + </p> + <p> + “I would not ask the service, sahib, but for the moment my head reels. I + must rest before I ride again.” + </p> + <p> + “Is all well, Mahommed Gunga?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, sahib! More than well!” + </p> + <p> + “The men are ready?” + </p> + <p> + “Horsed, armed, and waiting, they keep coming—there were many when I + left—there will be three squadrons worthy of the name by the time we + get there! Is all well at your end, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, all's well.” + </p> + <p> + “Did the padre people go to Howrah?” + </p> + <p> + “They started and they have not returned.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, Allah be praised! Inshallah, I will grip that spectacled old woman + of a priest by the hand before I die. He has a spark of manhood in him! + Send me this good horse to the stables, sahib; I am overweary. Have him + watered when the heat has left him, and then fed. Let them blanket him + lightly. And, sahib, have his legs rubbed—that horse ever loved to + have his legs rubbed. Allah! I must sleep four hours before I ride! And + the Miss-sahib—went she bravely?” + </p> + <p> + “Went as a woman of her race ought to go, Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! She met a man first of her own race, and he made her go! Would she + have gone if a coward asked her, think you? Sahib—women are good—at + the other end of things! We will ride and fetch her. Ha! I saw! My eyes + are old, but they bear witness yet!—Now, food, sahib—for the + love of Allah, food, before my belt-plate and my backbone touch!” + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what the damned old infidel is dreaming of!” swore Cunningham, + as Mahommed Gunga staggered to the chamber in the rock where a serving-man + was already heaping victuals for him. + </p> + <p> + “Have me called in four hours, sahib! In four hours I will be a man + again!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The freed wolf limped home to his lair, + And lay to lick his sore. + With wrinkled lip and fangs agnash— + With back-laid ear and eyes aflash— + “Twas something rather more than rash + To turn me loose!” he swore. +</pre> + <p> + NOW Jaimihr fondly thought he held a few cards up his sleeve when he made + his bargain with Rosemary McClean and let himself be lowered from the + Alwa-sahib's rock. He knew, better probably than any one except his + brother and the priests, how desperate the British situation had become + throughout all India at an instant's notice, and he made his terms + accordingly. + </p> + <p> + He did not believe, in the first place, that there would be any British + left to succor by the time matters had been settled sufficiently in Howrah + to enable him to dare leave the city at his rear. Afterward, should it + seem wise, he would have no objection in the world to riding to the aid of + a Company that no longer existed. + </p> + <p> + In the second place, he entertained no least compunction about breaking + his word completely in every particular. He knew that the members of the + little band on Alwa's rock would keep their individual and collective + word, and therefore that Rosemary McClean would come to him. He suspected, + though, that there would prove to be a rider of some sort to her agreement + as regarded marrying him, for he had young Cunningham in mind; and he knew + enough of Englishmen from hearsay and deduction to guess that Cunningham + would interject any obstacle his ingenuity could devise. + </p> + <p> + Natives of India do not like Englishmen to marry their women. How much + less, then, would a stiff-necked member of a race of conquerors care to + stand by while a woman of his own race became the wife of a native prince? + He did not trust Cunningham, and he recalled that he had had no promise + from that gentleman. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, he proposed to forestall Cunningham if possible, and, if that + were inconvenient or rash, he meant to take other means of making Rosemary + McClean his, beyond dispute, in any case. + </p> + <p> + Next to Rosemary McClean he coveted most the throne of Howrah. With regard + to that he was shrewd enough not to conceal from himself for a second the + necessity for scotching the priests of Siva before he dare broach the + Howrah treasure, and so make the throne worth his royal while. Nor did he + omit from his calculations the public clamor that would probably be raised + should he deal too roughly with the priests. And he intended to deal + roughly with them. + </p> + <p> + So the proposed allegiance of the Rangars suited him in more ways than + one. His army and his brother's were so evenly matched in numbers and + equipment that he had been able to leave Howrah without fear for the + safety of his palace while his back was turned. The eight hundred whom he + had led on the unlucky forray to Alwa's were scarcely missed, and, even + had the Maharajah known that he was absent with them, there were still too + many men behind for him to dare to start reprisals. The Maharajah was too + complete a coward to do anything much until he was forced into it. + </p> + <p> + The Rangars, he resolved, must be made to take the blame for the broaching + of the treasure. He proposed to go about the broaching even before + hostilities between himself and his brother had commenced, and he expected + to be able to trick the Rangars into seeming to be looting. To appear to + defend the treasure would probably not be difficult; and it would be even + less difficult to blame the Rangars afterward for the death of any priest + who might succumb during the ensuing struggle. He counted on the populace, + more than on his own organized forces, to make the Rangars powerless when + the time should come for them to try to take the upper hand. The mob would + suffer in the process, but its fanaticism—its religious prejudice + and numbers—would surely win the day. + </p> + <p> + As for Rosemary McClean, the more he considered her the more his brown + eyes glowed. He had promised to make her Maharanee. But he knew too + thoroughly what that would mean not to entertain more than a passing doubt + as to the wisdom of the course. He was as ready to break his word on that + point as on any other. + </p> + <p> + A woman of his own race, however wooed and won, would have been content to + accept the usual status of whisperer from behind the close-meshed screens. + Not so an Englishwoman, with no friends to keep her company and with + nothing in the world to do but think. She, he realized, would expect to + make something definite of her position, and that would suit neither his + creed (which was altogether superficial), nor custom (which was iron-bound + and to be feared), nor prejudice (which was prodigious), nor yet + convenience (which counted most). + </p> + <p> + He came to the conclusion that the fate in store for her was not such as + she would have selected had she had her choice. Nor were his conclusions + in regard to her such as would commend him in the eyes of honest men. + </p> + <p> + But, after all, the throne was the fulcrum of his plotting; and the lever + had to be the treasure, if his plans were to succeed beyond upsetting. He + changed his plans a dozen times over before he arrived at last at the + audacious decision he was seeking. + </p> + <p> + Like many another Hindoo in that hour of England's need, he did not lose + sight altogether of the distant if actual possibility that the Company's + servants might—by dint of luck and grit, and what the insurance + papers term the Act of God—pull through the crisis. Therefore, he + decided that under no circumstances should Rosemary McClean be treated + cavalierly until the Rangars were out of the way and he could pose as her + protector if need be. + </p> + <p> + He would be able to prove that Rosemary and her father had come to him of + their own free will. He would say that they had asked him for protection + from the Rangars. He had evidence that his brother Howrah had been in + communication with the Rangars. So, should the Company survive and retain + power enough to force an answer to unpleasant questions, he thought it + would not be difficult to prove that he had been the Company's friend all + along. + </p> + <p> + Under all the circumstances he considered it best to be false to everybody + and strike for no hand but his own, and with that reconsidered end in view + he decided on a master-stroke. He sent word to his brother, the Maharajah, + saying that the Rangars had accepted service with the Company and purposed + a raid on Howrah; therefore, he proposed that they unite against the + common enemy and set a trap for the Rangars. + </p> + <p> + Howrah sent back to ask what proof he had of the Rangars' taking service + with the British. Jaimihr answered that Cunningham and Mahommed Gunga were + both on Alwa's crag. He also swore that as Alwa's prisoner he had been + able to over-hear the Rangars' plans. + </p> + <p> + The Maharajah was bewildered, as Jaimihr had expected that he would be. + And with just as Eastern, just as muddle-headed, just as dishonest + reasoning, he made up his mind to play a double game with everybody, too. + He agreed to join Jaimihr in opposition to the Rangars. He agreed to send + all his forces to meet Jaimihr's and together kill every Rangar who should + show himself inside the city. And he privately made plans to arrive on the + scene too late, and smash Jaimihr's army after it had been reduced in size + and efficiency by its battle with Alwa's men. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr, unknowingly, fitted his plan into his brother's by determining to + get on the scene early enough to have first crack at the treasure. He + meant to get away with that, leave his brother to deal with Alwa's men, + circle round, and then attack his brother from the rear. + </p> + <p> + Finally, he made up his mind once and for all that Rosemary McClean must + remain inviolate until he was quite certain that the English had been + driven out of India. He expected that good news within a week. + </p> + <p> + He was delighted when Joanna, dressed as a man, turned up at his + palace-gates and cajoled her way in past the guards. To be asked for an + escort to bring the McCleans into Howrah fitted in with his role of + protector as a key might fit a lock. Now they could never pretend—nobody + could ever pretend—that he had seized them. He sent a carriage out + for them, and when they arrived placed a whole wing of his palace at their + disposal, treating them like royalty. He made no attempt to molest or + interfere with either of them, except that he prevented them from going in + and out; and he told off plenty of witnesses who would be able to swear + subsequently that they had seen how well his guests were treated. He was + taking no unnecessary chances at that stage of the game he played. + </p> + <p> + There were others, though, who plotted besides Jaimihr. There were, for + instance, Siva's priests. It is not to be forgotten that in that part of + India the priests had been foremost in fomenting the rebellion. They urged + Howrah constantly to take the field against the British, and it was only + the sure knowledge of his brother's intention to strike for the throne + that prevented the Maharajah from doing what the priests urged. + </p> + <p> + He knew that Alwa and the Rangars would not help him unless Jaimihr first + attacked him, for Alwa would be sure to stand on the strict letter of his + oath. And he was afraid of the Rangars. He feared that they might protect + him and depose him afterward. He reasoned that that, too, might be + construed into a strict interpretation of the terms of Alwa's promise! + </p> + <p> + He consented to collect his army. He kept it under arms. He even paid it + something on account of arrears of wages and served out rations. But, to + the disgust of the priests who asked nothing better than dissension + between the brothers, he jumped at the idea of uniting with Jaimihr to + defeat Alwa's men. He knew—just as the priests feared—that + once he could trick and defeat Jaimihr he could treat the troublesome + priests as cavalierly as he chose. + </p> + <p> + So the priests made a third knot in the tangle and tried desperately at + the last moment to recreate dissension between the rival royal camps. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr is getting ready to attack you!” they assured Howrah. “Attack him + first!” + </p> + <p> + “I will wait until he does attack,” the Maharajah answered. “For the + moment we are friends and have a cause in common.” + </p> + <p> + “Howrah's men will desert to you the moment you make a move to win the + throne,” they assured Jaimihr. + </p> + <p> + “Wait!” answered Jaimihr. “Wait but a day or two. I will move fast as I + see fit when I am ready. For the present my cause and my brother's cause + are one.” + </p> + <p> + Spies brought in news to Maharajah, Prince, and priest of the hurried + raising of a Rangar army. The Maharajah and the Prince laughed up their + sleeves and the priests swore horribly; the interjection of another + element—another creed—into the complication did not suit the + priestly “book.” They were the only men who were really worried about + Alwa. + </p> + <p> + And another spy—Joanna—disappeared. No longer garbed as a man, + she had hung about the palace, and—known to nearly all the sweepers—she + had overheard things. Garbed as a man again, she suddenly evaporated in + thin air, and Rosemary McClean was left without a servant or any means of + communication with the outside world. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + The ringed wolf glared the circle round + Through baleful, blue-lit eye, + Not unforgetful of his debt. + “Now, heed ye how ye draw the net.” + Quoth he: “I'll do some damage yet + Or ere my turn to die!” + </pre> + <p> + THE mare that had been a present from Mahommed Gunga was brought out and + saddled, together with a fresh horse for the Risaldar. The veteran had + needed no summoning, for with a soldier's instinct he had wakened at the + moment his self-allotted four hours had expired. He mounted a little + stiffly, and tried his horse's paces up and down the courtyard once or + twice before nodding to Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “All ready, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “Ready, Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + But there was one other matter, after all, that needed attention first. + </p> + <p> + “That horse of mine that brought me hither”—the Risaldar picked out + the man who waited with the gong cord in his hand—“is left in thy + particular charge. Dost thou hear me? I will tell the Alwa-sahib what I + now tell thee—that horse will be required of thee fit, + good-tempered, light-mouthed, not spur-marked, and thoroughly well + groomed. There will be a reward in the one case, but in the other—I + would not stand in thy shoes! It is a trust!” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, Risaldar!” called Cunningham. “We're wasting an awful lot of + time!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib, but a good horse is like a woman, to be loved and treated + faithfully! Neither horse nor woman should be sacrificed for less than + duty! Lead on, bahadur—I will join thee at the gate.” + </p> + <p> + He had several directions to give for the horse's better care, and + Cunningham was forced to wait at least five minutes for him at the foot of + the steep descent. Then for another minute the two sat their horses side + by side, while the great gate rose slowly, grudgingly, cranked upward by + four men. + </p> + <p> + “If we two ever ride under here again, bahadur, we shall ride with honor + thick on us,” remarked Mahommed Gunga. “God knows what thy plan may be; + but I know that from now on there will be no peace for either of us until + we have helped rip it with our blades from the very belly of rebellion. + Ride!” + </p> + <p> + The gate clanged down behind them as—untouched by heel or spur—the + two spring-limbed chargers raced for their bits across the sand. They went + like shadows, casting other shadows—moon-made—wind-driven—knee-to-knee. + </p> + <p> + “Now, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + The Risaldar broke silence after fifteen minutes. Neither he nor + Cunningham were of the type that chatters when the time has come to loosen + sabres and sit tight. + </p> + <p> + “In the matter of what lies ahead—as I said, neither I nor any man + knows what this plan of thine may be, but I and the others have accepted + thy bare word. These men who await thee—and they are many, and all + soldiers, good, seasoned horsemen—have been told that the son of + Cunnigan will lead them. Alwa has given his word, and I mine, that in the + matter of a leader there is nothing left to be desired. And my five men + have told them of certain happenings that they have seen. Therefore, thou + art awaited with no little keenness. They will be all eyes and ears. It + might be well, then, to set the pace a little slower, for a man looks + better on a fresh horse than on a weary one!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm thinking, Mahommed Gunga, of the two McCleans and of General Byng, + who is expecting us. There is little time to lose.” + </p> + <p> + “I, too, consider them, sahib. It is we Rangars who must do the sabre + work. ALL, sahib—ALL—depends now on the impression created on + the men awaiting thee! Rein in a little. Thy father's name, thine own, and + mine and Alwa's weigh for much on thy side; but have a sound horse between + thy legs and a trumpet in thy throat when we get there! I have seen more + than one officer have to fight up-hill for the hearts of his troopers + because his tired horse stumbled or looked shabby on the first parade. + Draw rein a little, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + So Cunningham, still saying nothing, drew back into an easy canter. He was + conscious of something, not at all like a trumpet, in his throat that was + nearly choking him. He did not care to let Mahommed Gunga know that what + was being mistaken for masterly silence was really emotion! He did not + speak because he did not trust his voice. + </p> + <p> + “There are three squadrons, sahib—each of about five hundred men. + Alwa has the right wing, I the left. Take thou the centre and command the + whole. The horses are as good as any in this part of India, for each man + has brought his best to do thee honor. Each man carries four days' rations + in his saddle-bag and two days' rations for his horse. More horse feed is + collecting, and they are bringing wagons, to follow when we give the word. + But we thought there would be little sense in ordering wagons to follow us + to Howrah City, knowing that thy plan would surely entail action. If we + are to ride to the aid of Byng-bahadur it seemed better to pick up the + wagons on the journey back again. That is all, sahib. There will be no + time, of course, to waste on talk or drill. Take charge the moment that we + get there—issue thy orders—and trust to the men understanding + each command. Lead off without delay.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Cunningham—two English words that went much + further to allay the Risaldar's anxiety than any amount of rhetoric would + have done. “But—d'you mean to tell me that the men don't understand + words of command?” + </p> + <p> + “All of them do, sahib—but to many of them the English words are + new. They all understand formations, and those who know the English words + are teaching the others while they wait for us. There is not one man among + them but has couched a lance or swung a sabre in some force or other?” + </p> + <p> + “Good. Have they all got lances?” + </p> + <p> + “All the front-rank men are armed with lance and sabre—the rear + ranks have sabres only.” + </p> + <p> + “Good.” + </p> + <p> + After two hours of steady cantering the going changed and became a quick + succession of ever-deepening gorges cleft in sandstone. Far away in the + distance to the left there rose a glow that showed where Howrah City kept + uneasy vigil, doubtless with watch-fires at every street corner. It looked + almost as though the distant city were in flames. + </p> + <p> + Ahead of them lay the gloom of hell mouth and the silence of the space + beyond the stars. + </p> + <p> + It was with that strange, unclassified, unnamed sixth sense that soldiers, + savages, and certain hunters have that Cunningham became aware of life + ahead of him—massed, strong-breathing, ready—waiting life, + spring-bent in the quivering blackness. A little farther, and he caught + the ring of a curb-chain. Then a horse whinnied and a hoarse voice swore + low at a restive charger. His own mare neighed, throwing her head high, + and some one challenged through the dead-black night. + </p> + <p> + “How-ut! Hukkums—thar!” + </p> + <p> + A horseman appeared suddenly from nowhere, and examined them at close + quarters instead of waiting for their answer. He peered curiously at + Cunningham—glanced at Mahommed Gunga—then wheeled, spinning + his horse as the dust eddies twist in the sudden hot-wind gusts. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib-bahadur hai!” he shouted, racing back. + </p> + <p> + The night was instantly alive with jingling movement, as line after line + of quite invisible light-horse-men—self-disciplined and eager to + obey—took up their dressing. The overhanging cliff of sandstone hid + the moon, but here and there there was a gleam of eyeballs in the dark—now + man's, now horse's—and a sheen that was the hint of steel held + vertical. No human being could have guessed the length of the gorge nor + the number of the men who waited in it, for the restless chargers stamped + in inch-deep sand that deadened sound without seeming to lessen its + quantity. + </p> + <p> + “Salaam, bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + It was Alwa, saluting with drawn sabre, reining back a pedigreed mare to + get all the spectacular emotion out of the encounter that he could. + </p> + <p> + “Here are fifteen hundred eight and fifty, sahib—all Rangars—true + believers—all true men—all pledged to see thee unsinged + through the flames of hell! Do them the honor of a quick inspection, + sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly!” smiled Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “I have told them, sahib, that their homes, their women, their + possessions, and their honor are all guaranteed them. Also pay. They make + no other terms.” + </p> + <p> + “I guarantee them all of that,” said Cunningham, loud enough for at least + the nearest ranks to hear. + </p> + <p> + “On thine own honor, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “On my word of honor!” + </p> + <p> + “The promise is enough! Will you inspect them, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “I'll take their salute first,” said Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, bahadur!” + </p> + <p> + Alwa filled his lungs and faced the unseen lines. + </p> + <p> + “Rangars!” he roared. “Your leader! To Chota-Cunnigan-bahadur—son of + Pukka-Cunnigan whom we all knew—general—salute—present—sabres!” + </p> + <p> + There was sudden movement—the ring of whipped-out metal—a + bird's wing-beat—as fifteen hundred hilts rose all together to as + many lips—and a sharp intake of breath all down the line. + </p> + <p> + It wasn't bad. Not bad at all, thought Cunningham. It was not done as + regulars would have worked it. There was the little matter of the lances, + that he could make out dimly here and there, and he could detect even in + that gloom that half of the men had been caught wondering how to salute + with lance and sabre both. But that was not their fault; the effort—the + respect behind the effort—the desire to act altogether—were + all there and striving. He drew his own mare back a little, and returned + their salute with full military dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Reeeecee—turn—sabres!” ordered Alwa, and that movement was + accomplished better. + </p> + <p> + He rode once, slowly, down the long front rank, letting each man look him + over—then back again along the rear rank, risking a kick or two, for + there was little room between them and the cliff. He was not choking now. + The soldier instinct, that is born in a man like statesmanship or poetry, + but that never can be taught, had full command over all his other senses, + and when he spurred out to the front again his voice rang loud and clear, + like a trumpet through the night. + </p> + <p> + With fifty ground scouts scattered out ahead of them, they drummed out of + the gorge and thundered by squadrons on the plain beyond—straight, + as the jackal runs, for Howrah City. Alwa, leaving his own squadron, to + canter at Cunningham's side, gave him all the new intelligence that + mattered. + </p> + <p> + “Last evening I sent word on ahead to them of our coming, sahib! I sent + one messenger to the Maharajah and one to Jaimihr, warning each that we + ride to keep our plighted word. At the worst, we shall find both parties + ready for us! We shall know before we reach the city who is our friend! + News reached me, too, sahib, that the Maharajah and his brother have + united against us—that Howrah will eat his promises and play me + false. God send he does! I would like to have my hands in that Hindoo's + treasure-chests! We none of us know yet, bahadur, what is this plan of + thine—” + </p> + <p> + “You've been guessing awfully close to it, I think” laughed Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “Aha! The treasure-chests, then! But—is there—have you + information, sahib? Who knows, then—who has told where they are? + Neither I nor my men know!” + </p> + <p> + “Send for Mahommed Gunga.” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga left his squadron, too, to canter beside Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “I am all ears, sahib!” he asserted, reining his horse until his stride + was equal to the others. + </p> + <p> + “The key to the situation is that treasure,” asserted Cunningham. “Howrah + wants it. Jaimihr wants it. The priests want it. I know that much for + certain, from the McCleans. All right. We're a new factor in the problem, + and they all mistrust us nearly as much, if not more, than they mistrust + one another. Good. They'll be all of them watching that treasure. It'll be + near where they are, and I'm going to snaffle it or break my neck—and + all your necks—in the deuced desperate attempt. Is that clear? Where + the carcass is, there wheel the kites and there the jackals fight, as your + proverb says. The easiest part will be finding the treasure. Then—” + </p> + <p> + They legged in closer to him, hanging on his words and too busy listening + to speak. + </p> + <p> + “If Howrah thinks we're after the treasure and decides to fight without + previous argument, that absolves you from your promise, doesn't it, + Alwa-sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sahib, provided our intention is not to evade the promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Our intention is to prevent Howrah and his brother from fighting, to + insure peace and protection on this whole countryside, and, if possible, + to ride away with Jaimihr's army to the Company's aid.” + </p> + <p> + “Good, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to occur to none of the three that fifteen hundred mounted men + were somewhat few with which to accomplish such a marvel. + </p> + <p> + “If they are fighting already, we must interfere.” + </p> + <p> + “We are ready, bahadur. Fighting is our trade!” + </p> + <p> + “But, before all things, we must keep our eyes well skinned for a hint of + treachery on Jaimihr's part. I would rather quarrel with that gentleman + than be his friend, but he happens to hold our promise. We've got to keep + our promise, provided he keeps his. I think our first objective is the + treasure.” + </p> + <p> + “That, sahib, is an acrobat of a plan,” said Alwa; “much jumping from one + proposition to another!” + </p> + <p> + “It is no plan at all,” said Cunningham. “It is a mere rehearsal of the + circumstances. A plan is something quickly seized at the right second and + then acted on—like your capture of Jaimihr. Wait awhile, + Alwa-sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, wait awhile!” growled Mahommed Gunga. “Did I bring thee a leader to + ask plans of thee, or a man of men for thee to follow? Which?” + </p> + <p> + “All the same,” said Alwa, “I would rather halt and make a good plan. It + would be wiser. I do not understand this one.” + </p> + <p> + “I follow Cunnigan-bahadur!” said Mahommed Gunga; and he spurred off to + his squadron. Alwa could see nothing better than to follow suit, for + Cunningham closed his lips tight in a manner unmistakable. And whatever + Alwa's misgivings might have been, he had the sense and the soldierly + determination not to hint at them to his men. + </p> + <p> + As dawn rose pale-yellow in the eastern sky they thundered into view of + Howrah City and drew rein to breathe their horses. The sun was high before + they had trotted near enough to make out details. But, long before details + could be seen, it was evident that an army was formed up to meet them on + the tree-lined maidan that lay between them and the two-mile-long + palace-wall. Beyond all doubt it was Jaimihr's army, for his elephants + were not so gaudily harnessed as Howrah's, and his men were not so + brilliantly dressed. + </p> + <p> + As they dipped into the last depression between them and the wall and + halted for a minute's consultation, a khaki-clad, shrivelled figure of a + man leaped up from behind a sand-ridge, and raced toward Cunningham, + shouting to him in a dialect he had no knowledge of and gesticulating + wildly. A trooper spurred down on him, brought him up all standing with an + intercepted lance, examined him through puckered eyes, and then, roaring + with laughter, picked him up and carried him to Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “A woman, sahib! By the beard of Abraham, a woman!” + </p> + <p> + “Joanna!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, sahib! Ha, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + She babbled to him, word overtaking word and choking all together in a + dust-dry throat. Cunningham gave her water and then set her on the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Translate, somebody!” he ordered. “I can't understand a word she says.” + </p> + <p> + Babbled and hurried and a little vague it might be, but Joanna had the + news of the minute pat. + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr is looting the treasure now, sahib. He has tricked his brother. + They were to join, and both fight against you, but Jaimihr tried to get + the treasure out before either you or his brother came. He is trying now, + sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Miss McClean! Ask her where Miss McClean is! Ask for Miss Maklin, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Jaimihr has told her that thou and Alwa and Mahommed Gunga are all dead, + and the British overwhelmed throughout all India! He has her with him in a + carriage, under guard, for all his men are with him and he could spare no + great guard for his palace. See! Look, sahib! Jaimihr's palace is in + flames!” + </p> + <p> + Alwa all but fell from his charger, laughing volcanically. The Rajput, who + never can agree, can always see the humor in other Rajputs' disagreement. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, but they are playing a great game with each other!” he shouted. But + Cunningham decided he had wasted time enough. He shouted his orders, and + in less than thirty seconds his three squadrons were thundering in the + direction of Jaimihr's army and the palace-wall. They drew rein again + within a quarter of a mile of it, to discover with amazed military eyes + that Jaimihr had no artillery. + </p> + <p> + It was then, at the moment when they halted, that Jaimihr reached a quick + decision and the wrong one. He knew by now that his brother had won the + first trick in the game of treachery, for he could see the smoke and + flames of his burning palace from where he sat his horse. He decided at + once that Alwa and his Rangars must have taken sides with the Maharajah, + for how, otherwise, he reasoned, could the Maharajah dare let the Rangars + approach unwatched and unmolested. It was evident to him that the Rangars + were acting as part of a concerted movement. + </p> + <p> + He made up his mind to attack and beat off the new arrivals without + further ceremony. He out-numbered them by four or five to one, and was on + his own ground. Whatever their intentions, at least he would be able to + pretend afterward that he had acted in defence of the sacred treasure; and + then, with the treasure in his possession, he would soon be able to + recompense himself for a mere burned and looted palace! + </p> + <p> + So he opened fire without notice, argument, or parley, and an ill-aimed + volley shrieked over the heads of Cunningham's three squadrons. + </p> + <p> + Cunningham, unruffled and undecided still, made out through puckered eyes + the six-horse carriage in which Miss McClean evidently was; it was drawn + up close beside the wall, and two regiments were between it and his + squadron. He was recalling the terms of the agreement made with Jaimihr; + he remembered it included the sparing of all of Alwa's men, and not the + firing on them. + </p> + <p> + A thousand of Jaimihr's cavalry swooped from the shelter of the infantry, + opened out a very little, and, mistaking Cunningham's delay for fear, bore + down with a cheer and something very like determination. + </p> + <p> + They were met some ten yards their side of the half-way mark by + Cunningham's three squadrons, loosed and led by Cunningham himself. + Outridden, outfought, outgeneralled, they were smashed through, ridden + down, and whirled back reeling in confusion. About a hundred of them + reached the shelter of the infantry in a formed-up body; many of the rest + charged through it in a mob and threw it into confusion. + </p> + <p> + Too late Jaimihr decided on more reasonable tactics. Too late he gave + orders to his infantry that no such confused body could obey. Before he + could ride to rally them, the Rangars were in them, at them, through them, + over them. The whole was disintegrating in retreat, endeavoring to rally + and reform in different places, each subdivision shouting orders to its + nearest neighbor and losing heart as its appeals for help were + disregarded. + </p> + <p> + Back came Cunningham's close-formed squadrons, straight through the + writhing mass again; and now the whole of Jaimihr's army took to its + heels, just as part of the five-feet-thick stone palace-wall succumbed to + the attacks of crowbars and crashed down in the roadway, disclosing a dark + vault on the other side. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr made a rush for the six-horse carriage, and tried vainly to get it + started. Cunningham shouted to him to surrender, but he took no notice of + the challenge; he escaped being made prisoner by the narrowest of margins, + as the position next him was cut down. The other postilions were + un-horsed, and six Rangars changed mounts and seized the reins. The Prince + ran one man through the middle, and then spurred off to try and overtake + his routed army, some of which showed a disposition to form up again. + </p> + <p> + “Sit quiet!” called Cunningham through the latticed carriage window. + “You're safe!” + </p> + <p> + The heavy, swaying carriage rumbled round, and the horses plunged in + answer to the Rangars' heels. A moment later it was moving at a gallop; + two minutes later it was backed against the wall, and Rosemary McClean + stepped out behind three protecting squadrons that had not suffered + perceptibly from what they would have scorned to call a battle. + </p> + <p> + “Now all together!” shouted Cunningham, whose theories on the value of + seconds when tackling reforming infantry were worthy of the Duke of + Wellington, or any other officer who knew his business; and again he led + his men at a breakneck charge. This time Jaimihr's disheartened little + army did not wait for him, but broke into wild confusion and scattered + right and left, leaving their elephants to be captured. There were only a + few men killed. The lance-tipped, roaring whirlwind loosed itself for the + most part against nothing, and reformed uninjured to trot back again. + Cunningham told off two troops to pursue fugitives and keep their eyes + open for the Prince before he rode back to examine the breach in the wall + that Jaimihr had been to so much trouble about making. + </p> + <p> + He had halted to peer through the break in the age-old masonry when + Mahommed Gunga spurred up close to him, touched his arm, and pointed. + </p> + <p> + “Look, sahib! Look!” + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr—and no one but a wizard could have told how he had managed + to get to where he was unobserved—was riding as a man rides at a + tent-peg, crouching low, full-pelt for Rosemary McClean! + </p> + <p> + Cunningham's spurs went home before the word was out of Mahommed Gunga's + mouth, and Mahommed Gunga raced behind him; but Jaimihr had the start of + them. Duncan McClean, looking ill and weak and helpless, crowded his + daughter to the wall, standing between her and the Prince; but Jaimihr + aimed a swinging sabre at him, and the missionary fell. His daughter + stooped to bend over him, and Jaimihr seized her below the arms. A second + later he had hoisted her to his saddle-bow and was spurring + hell-bent-for-leather for the open country. + </p> + <p> + Two things prevented him from making his escape. Five of Alwa's men, + returning from pursuing fugitives, cut off his flight in one direction, + and the extra weight on his horse prevented him from getting clear by + means of speed alone—as he might have done otherwise, for + Cunningham's mare was growing tired. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr rode for two minutes with the frenzy of a savage before he saw the + futility of it. It was Cunningham's mare, gaining on him stride over + stride, that warned him he would be cut down like a dog from behind unless + he surrendered or let go his prize. + </p> + <p> + So he laughed and threw the girl to the ground. For a moment more he + spurted, spurring like a fiend, then wheeled and charged at Cunningham. He + guessed that but for Cunningham that number of Rangars would never have + agreed on a given plan. He knew that it was he, and not Cunningham or Alwa + or Rosemary McClean, who had broken faith. He had broken it in thought, + and word, and action. And he had lost his prospect of a throne. So he came + on like a man who has nothing to gain by considering his safety. He came + like a real man at last. And Cunningham, on a tired mare, met him point to + point. + </p> + <p> + They fought over a quarter of a mile of ground, for Jaimihr proved to be + as useful with his weapon as Mahommed Gunga's teaching had made + Cunningham. There was plenty of time for the reformed squadrons to see + what was happening—plenty of time for Alwa, who considered that he + had an account of his own to settle with the Prince, to leave his squadron + and come thundering up to help. Mahommed Gunga dodged and reined and + spurred, watching his opportunity on one side and Alwa on the other. It + would have suited neither of them to have their leader killed at that + stage of the game, but the fighting was too quick for either man to + interfere. + </p> + <p> + Jaimihr charged Cunningham for the dozenth time and missed, charged past, + to wheel and charge again, then closed with the most vindictive rush of + all. Again Cunningham met him point to point. The two blades locked, and + bent like springs as they wrenched at them. Cunningham's blade snapped. He + snatched at his mare and spun her before Jaimihr could recover, then + rammed both spurs in and bore down on the Prince with half a sabre. He had + him on the near side at a disadvantage. Jaimihr spurred and tried to + maneuver for position, and the half sabre went home just below his ribs. + He dropped bleeding in the dust at the second that Alwa and Mahommed Gunga + each saw an opportunity and rushed in, to rein back face to face, grinning + in each other's faces, their horses' breasts pressed tight against the + charger that Jaimihr rode. The horse screamed as the shock crushed the + wind out of him. + </p> + <p> + “You robbed me of my man, sahib, by about a sabre's breadth!” laughed + Alwa. + </p> + <p> + “And you left your squadron leaderless without my permission!” answered + Cunningham. “You too! Mahommed Gunga!” + </p> + <p> + “But, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “Do you prefer to argue or obey?” + </p> + <p> + Mahommed Gunga flushed and rode back. Alwa grinned and started after him. + Cunningham, without another glance at the dead Prince, rode up to Rosemary + McClean, who was picking herself up and looking bewildered; she had + watched the duel in speechless silence, lying full length in the dust, and + she still could not speak when he reached her. + </p> + <p> + “Put your foot on mine,” he said reassuringly; “then swing yourself up + behind me if you can. If you can't, I'll pick you up in front.” + </p> + <p> + She tried hard, but she failed; so he put both arms under hers and lifted + her. + </p> + <p> + “Am I welcome?” he asked. And she nodded. + </p> + <p> + Fresh from killing a man—with a man's blood on his broken sword and + the sweat of fighting not yet dry on him—he held a woman in his arms + for the first time in his life. His hand had been steady when it struck + the blow under Jaimihr's ribs, but now it trembled. His eyes had been + stern and blazing less than two minutes before; now they looked down into + nothing more dangerous than a woman's eyes and grew strangely softer all + at once. His mouth had been a hard, tight line under a scrubby upper lip, + but his lips had parted now a little and his smile was a boy's—not + nervous or mischievous—a happy boy's. + </p> + <p> + She smiled, too. Most people did smile when young Cunningham looked + pleased with them; but she smiled differently. And he, with that blood + still wet on him, bent down and kissed her on the lips. Her answer was as + characteristic as his action. + </p> + <p> + “You look like a blackguard,” she said—“but you came, and I knew you + would! I told Jaimihr you would, and he laughed at me. I told God you + would, and you came! How long is it since you shaved? Your chin is all + prickly!” + </p> + <p> + They were interrupted by a roar from the three waiting squadrons. He had + ridden without caring where he went, and his mare had borne the two of + them to where the squadrons were drawn up with their rear to the great gap + in the wall. The situation suited every Rangar of them! That was, indeed, + the way a man should win his woman! They cheered him, and cheered again, + and he grinned back, knowing that their hearts were in the cheering and + their good will won. Red, then, as a boiled beet, he rode over to the + six-horse carriage and dismounted by her father—picked him up—called + two troopers—and lifted him on to the rear seat of the great + old-fashioned coach. + </p> + <p> + “Get inside beside him!” he ordered Rosemary, examining the missionary's + head as he spoke. “It's a scalp wound, and he's stunned—no more. + He's left off bleeding already. Nurse him!” He was off, then, without + another word or a backward glance for her—off to his men and the gap + in the wall that waited an investigation. + </p> + <p> + The amazing was discovered then. The treasure—the fabled, fabulous, + enormous Howrah treasure was no fable. It was there, behind that wall! The + jewels and the bullion in marketable bars that could have bought an army + or a kingdom—the sacred, secret treasure of twenty troubled + generations, that was guarded in the front by fifty doors and fifty + corridors and three times fifty locks—the door of whose secret vault + was guarded by a cannon, set to explode at the slightest touch—was + hidden from the public road at its other side, its rear, by nothing better + than a five-foot wall of ill-cemented stone! Cunningham stepped inside + over the dismantled masonry and sat down on a chest that held more money's + worth than all the Cunninghams in all the world had ever owned, or spent, + or owed, or used, or dreamed of! + </p> + <p> + “Ask Alwa and Mahommed Gunga to come to me here!” he called; and a minute + later they stood at attention in front of him. + </p> + <p> + “Send a hundred men, each with a flag of truce on his lance, to gallop + through the city and call on Jaimihr's men to rally to me, if they wish + protection against Howrah!” + </p> + <p> + “Good, sahib! Good!” swore Alwa. “Howrah is the next danger! Make ready to + fight Howrah!” + </p> + <p> + “Attend to my orders, please!” smiled Cunningham, and Alwa did as he was + told. Within an hour Jaimihr's men were streaming from the four quarters + of the compass, hurrying to be on the winning side, and forming into + companies as they were ordered. + </p> + <p> + Then Cunningham gave another order. + </p> + <p> + “Alwa-sahib, will you take another flag of truce, please, and ride with + not more than two men to Maharajah Howrah. Tell him that I want him here + at once to settle about this treasure.” + </p> + <p> + Alwa stared. His mouth opened a little, and he stood like a man bereft of + reason by the unexpected. + </p> + <p> + “Are you not still pledged to support Howrah on his throne?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, bahadur.” + </p> + <p> + “Would plundering his treasure be in keeping with your promise to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib. But—” + </p> + <p> + “Be good enough to take my message to him. Assure him that he may come + with ten men without fear of molestation, but guarantee to him that if he + comes with more than ten—and with however many more—I will + fight, and keep his treasure, both!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Friends I have sought me of varying nations, + Men of all ranks and of different stations; + Some are in jail now, and some are deceased. + Two, though, I found to be experts at sundering + Me from my revenue, leaving me wondering + Which was the costlier—soldier or priest. +</pre> + <p> + A LITTLE more than one hour later, Howrah—sulky and disgruntled, but + doing his level best to appear at Ease—faced young Cunningham across + a table in the treasure-vault. Outside was a row of wagons, drawn by + horses and closely guarded by a squadron of the Rangars. Behind Cunningham + stood Alwa and Mahommed Gunga; behind the Maharajah were two of his court + officials. There were pen and ink and the royal seal between them on the + table. + </p> + <p> + “So, Maharajah-sahib. They are all scaled, and each chest is marked on the + outside with its contents; I'm sorry there was no time to weigh the gold, + but the number of the ingots ought to be enough. And, of course, you'll + understand it wasn't possible to count all those unset stones—that + 'ud take a week; but your seal is on that big chest, too, so you'll know + if it's been opened. You are certain you can preserve the peace of your + state with the army you have?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Howrah curtly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't want me to leave a squadron of my men to help you out?” + </p> + <p> + “No!” He said that even more abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Good. Of course, since you won't have to spare men to guard the treasure + now, you'll have all the more to keep peace in the district with, won't + you? Let me repeat the terms of our bargain—they're written here, + but let's be sure there is no mistake. I agree to deliver your treasure + into safe keeping until the rebellion is over, and to report to my + government that you are friendly disposed toward us. You, in return, + guarantee to protect the families and property of all these gentlemen who + ride with me. It is mutually agreed that any damage done to their homes + during their absence shall be made good out of your treasure, but that + should you keep your part of the agreement the treasure shall be handed + back to you intact. Is that correct?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Howrah shifting in his seat uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “Is there anything else?” + </p> + <p> + “One other thing. I am outmaneuvered, and I have surrendered with the best + grace possible. That agreement stands in my name, and no other man's?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “The priests of Siva are not parties to it?” + </p> + <p> + “I've had nothing whatever to do with them,” said Cunningham. + </p> + <p> + “That is all, then, sahib. I am satisfied.” + </p> + <p> + “While we're about it, Maharajah-sahib, let's scotch those priests + altogether! McClean-sahib has told me that suttee has been practised here + as a regular thing. That's got to stop, and we may as well stop it now. Of + course, I shall keep my word about the treasure, and you'll get it back if + you live up to the bargain you have made; but my government will know now + where it is, and they'll be likely to impose a quite considerable fine on + you when the rebellion's over unless this suttee's put an end to. Besides, + you couldn't think of a better way of scoring off the priests than by + enforcing the law and abolishing the practice. Think that over, + Maharajah-sahib.” + </p> + <p> + Howrah swore into his beard, as any ruling potentate might well do at + being dictated to by a boy of twenty-two. + </p> + <p> + “I will do my best, sahib,” he answered. “I am with the British—not + against them.” + </p> + <p> + “Good for you!—er, I mean, that's right!” He turned to Alwa, and + looked straight into his eyes. “Are you satisfied with the guarantee?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, I am more than satisfied!” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Oh, and—Maharajah-sahib—since we've fought your battle + for you—and lost a few men—and are going to guard your + treasure for you, and be your friends, and all that kind of thing—don't + you think you'd like to do something for us—not much, but just a + little thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I am in your power. You have but to command.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no. I don't want to force anything. We're friends—talking as + friends. I ask a favor.” + </p> + <p> + “It is granted, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “A horse or two, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “How many horses, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not more than one each.” + </p> + <p> + The Maharajah pulled a wry face, but bowed assent. It would empty his + stables very nearly, but he knew when he could not help himself. Mahommed + Gunga clapped a hand to his mouth and left the vault hurriedly. + </p> + <p> + “You understand this is not a demand, Maharajah-sahib. I take it that you + offer me these horses as an act of royal courtesy and as additional proof + of friendliness?” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, sahib.” + </p> + <p> + “My men will be very grateful to you. This will enable them to reach the + scene of action with their own horses in good shape. I'm sure it's awfully + good of you to have offered them!” + </p> + <p> + Outside, where the late afternoon sun was gradually letting things cool + down, Mahommed Gunga leaned against the wall and roared with laughter, as + he explained a few details to the admiring troopers. + </p> + <p> + “A horse or two, says he! How many? Oh, just a horse or two, + Maharajah-sahib—merely a horse apiece! Fifteen hundred horses! A + horse or two! Oh-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ho! Allah! But that boy will make a better + soldier than his father! As a favor, he asked them—no compulsion, + mind you—just as a favor! Allah! What is he asking now, I wonder! + Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ho-ho-ho!” + </p> + <p> + And inside, with a perfectly straight face and almost ghastly generosity, + young Cunningham proceeded to impose on Howrah the transferred, unwelcome, + perilous allegiance of Jaimihr's reassembling army. The mere keeping of it + in subjection, it was realized by donor and recipient alike, would keep + the Maharajah's hands full. + </p> + <p> + “Are you satisfied that your homes will be safe, now?” he asked Alwa. And + Alwa looked him in the eyes and grinned. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Now, fifteen hundred, horse and man, + Reel at the word of one! + Loosed by the brazen trumpet's peal— + Knee to knee and toe on heel— + Troop on troop the squadrons wheel + Outbrazening the sun! +</pre> + <p> + WITHIN a fortnight of the outbreak of the mutiny, men spoke with bated + breath about the Act of God. It burst at the moment when India's reins + were in the hands of some of the worst incompetents in history. A week + found strong men in control of things—the right men, with the right + handful behind them. + </p> + <p> + Some of the men in charge went mad, and were relieved. Some threw up their + commands. Some of the worst incompetents were killed by the mutineers, and + more than one man who could have changed the course of history for the + worse were taken sick and died. Instead of finding themselves faced by + spineless nincompoops, the rebels reeled before the sudden, well-timed + tactics of real officers with eyes and ears and brains. The mask was off + on both sides, and the sudden, stripped efficiency of one was no less + disconcerting than the unexpected rebellion of the other. + </p> + <p> + Byng-bahadur—“Byng the Brigadier”—was in command of a force + again within three days of the news of the first massacre; and because he + was Byng, with Byng's record, and Byng's ability to handle loyal natives, + the men who succeeded to the reins packed him off at once with a free + hand, and with no other orders than to hit, hit hard, and keep on hitting. + </p> + <p> + “Go for them, Byng, old man. Live off the country, keep moving, and don't + let 'em guess once what your next move's going to be!” + </p> + <p> + So Byng recruited as he went, and struck like a brain-controlled tornado + at whatever crossed his path. But irreparable damage had been done before + the old school was relieved, and Byng—like others—was terribly + short of men. Many of his own irregulars were so enraged at having been + disbanded at a moment's notice that they refused to return to him. Their + honor, as they saw it, had been outraged. Only two British regiments could + be spared him, and they were both thinned by sickness from the first. They + were Sikhs, who formed the bulk of his headquarterless brigade, and many + of them were last-minute friends, who came to him unorganized and almost + utterly undrilled. + </p> + <p> + But Byng was a man of genius, and his bare reputation was enough to offset + much in the way of unpreparedness. He coaxed and licked and praised his + new men into shape as he went along; within a week he had stormed + Deeseera, blowing up their greatest reserve of ammunition and momentarily + stunning the rebellion's leaders. But cholera took charge in the city, and + two days later found him hurrying out again, to camp where there was + uncontaminated water, on rising ground that gave him the command of three + main roads. It was there that the rebels cornered him. + </p> + <p> + They blew up a hundred-yard-long bridge behind him at the one point where + a swiftly running river could be crossed, and from two other sides at once + mutinied native regiments and thousands from the countryside flocked, + hurrying to take a hand in what seemed destined to be Byng's last action. + The fact that so many swaggering soldier Sikhs were cornered with him was + sufficient in itself to bring out Hindoo and Mohammedan alike. + </p> + <p> + The mutinous regiments had all been drilled and taught by British officers + until they were as nearly perfect as the military knowledge of the day + could make them; the fact that they had killed their officers only served + to make them savage without detracting much from their efficiency. They + had native officers quite capable of taking charge, and sense enough to + retain their discipline. + </p> + <p> + So Byng intrenched himself on the gradual rise, and sent out as many + messengers as he could spare to bring reinforcements from whatever source + obtainable. Then, when almost none came, he got ready to die where he + stood, using all the soldier gift he had to put courage into the + last-ditch loyalists who offered to die with him. He had counted most on + aid from Cunningham and Mahommed Gunga, but that source seemed to have + failed him; and he gave up hope of their arrival when a body of several + thousand rebels took up position on his flank and cut off approach from + the direction whence Cunningham should come. + </p> + <p> + The sun blazed down like molten hell on sick and wounded. Rotting + carcasses of horses and cattle, killed by the rebels' artillery-fire, lay + stenching here and there, and there was no possibility of disposing of + them. A day came very soon, indeed, when horse, or occasional transport + bullock, was all there was to eat, and a night came when Govind Singh, the + leader of the Sikhs, came to him and remonstrated. + </p> + <p> + The old man had to be carried to Byng's tent, for a round shot had + disabled him, and he had himself set down by the tent-door, where the + General sat on a camp-stool. + </p> + <p> + “General-sahib, I have not been asked for advice; I am here to offer it.” + </p> + <p> + The huge black dome of heaven was punctuated by a billion dots of steely + white that looked like pin-pricks. All the light there was came from the + fitful watch-fires, where even the wagons were being burned now that the + meagre supply of rough timber was giving out. The rebels, too, were + burning everything on which they could lay their hands, and from between + the spaced-out glow of their bonfires came ever and again the spurt of + cannon-flame. + </p> + <p> + “Speak, Govind Singh!” + </p> + <p> + “Sahib, we have no artillery with which to answer them. We have no food; + and the supply of ammunition wanes. Shall we die here like cattle in a + slaughter-house?” + </p> + <p> + “This is as good as any other place” said Byng. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, sahib!” “How, then?” + </p> + <p> + “In their lines is a better place! Here is nothing better than a shambles, + with none but our men falling. They know that our food is giving out—they + know that we lose heavily—they wait. They will wait for days yet + before they close in to finish what their guns have but begun, and—then—how + many will there be to die desperately, as is fitting?” + </p> + <p> + “We might get reinforcements in the morning, Govind Singh.” + </p> + <p> + “And again, we might not, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + “I sent a number of messengers before we were shut in.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sahib—and to whom? To men who would ask you to reinforce them + if they could get word to you! Tomorrow our rear will be surrounded, too; + they have laid planks across the little streams behind us, and are + preparing to drag guns to that side, too. Now, sahib, we have fire left in + us. We can smite yet, and do damage while we die. Tomorrow night may find + us decimated and without heart for the finish. I advise you to advance at + dawn, sahib!” + </p> + <p> + That advice came as a great relief to Byng-bahadur. He had been the first + to see the hopelessness of the position, and every instinct that he had + told him to finish matters, not in the last reeking ditch, but ahead, + where the enemy would suffer fearfully while a desperate charge roared + into them, to peter out when the last man went down fighting. Surrender + was unthinkable, and in any event would have been no good, for the + mutineers would be sure to butcher all their prisoners; his only other + chance had been to hold out until relief came, and that hope was now + forlorn. + </p> + <p> + A Mohammedan stepped out of blackness and saluted him—a native + officer, in charge of a handful of irregular cavalry, whose horses had all + been shot. + </p> + <p> + “Well—what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “This, sahib. Do we die here? I and my men would prefer to die yonder, + where a mutineer or two would pay the price!” + </p> + <p> + A Ghoorka officer—small as a Japanese and sturdy-looking came up + next. The whole thing was evidently preconcerted. + </p> + <p> + “My men ask leave to show the way into the ranks ahead, General-sahib! + They are overweary of this shambles!” + </p> + <p> + “We will advance at dawn!” said Byng. “Egan—” He turned to a British + officer, who was very nearly all the staff he had. “Drag that table up. + Let's have some paper here and a pencil, and we'll work out the best plan + possible.” + </p> + <p> + He sent for the commanding officers of the British regiments—both of + them captains, but the seniors surviving—and a weird scene followed + round the lamp set on the tiny table. British, Sikh, Mohammedan, and + Ghoorka clustered close to him, and watched as his pencil traced the + different positions and showed the movement that was to make the morrow's + finish, their faces outlined in the lamp's yellow glow and their breath + coming deep and slow as they agreed on how the greatest damage could be + done the enemy before the last man died. + </p> + <p> + As he finished, and assigned each leader to his share in the last assault + that any one of them would take a part in, a streak of light blazed + suddenly across the sky. A shooting-star swept in a wide parabola to the + horizon. A murmur went up from the wakeful lines, and the silence of the + graveyard followed. + </p> + <p> + “There is our sign, sahib!” laughed the Mohammedan. The old Sikh nodded + and the Ghoorka grinned. “It is the end!” he said, without a trace of + discouragement. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Byng, his face, too, turned upward. + </p> + <p> + “What, then, does it mean, sahib?” + </p> + <p> + “That—it means that God Almighty has relieved a picket! We're the + picket. We're relieved! We advance at dawn, and we'll get through somehow! + Join your commands, gentlemen, and explain the details carefully to your + men—let's have no misunderstandings.” + </p> + <p> + The dawn rose gold and beautiful upon a sleepless camp that reeked and + steamed with hell-hot suffering. It showed the rebels stationary, still in + swarming lines, but scouts reported several thousand of them moving in a + body from the flank toward the British rear. + </p> + <p> + “What proportion of the rebel force?” asked Byng. “New arrivals, or some + of the old ones taking up a new position?” + </p> + <p> + “The same crowd, sir. They're just moving round to hem us in completely.” + </p> + <p> + “So much the better for us, then! That leaves fewer for us to deal with in + front.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke another man came running to report the arrival of five + gallopers, coming hell-bent-for leather, one by one and scattered, with + the evident purpose of allowing one man to get through, whatever happened. + </p> + <p> + “That'll be relief at last!” said Byng-bahadur. And, instead of ordering + the advance immediately, he waited, scouring the sky-line with his + glasses. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—dust—lance-heads—one—two—three + divisions, coming in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + Being on rising ground, he saw the distant relieving force much sooner + than the rebels did, and he knew that it was help for him on the way some + time before the first of the five gallopers careered into the camp, and + shouted: + </p> + <p> + “Cunnigan-bahadur comes with fifteen hundred!” + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen hundred,” muttered Byng. “That merely serves to postpone the + finish by an hour or two!” + </p> + <p> + But he waited; and presently the rebel scouts brought word, and their + leaders, too, became aware of reinforcements on the way for somebody. They + made the mistake, though, of refusing to believe that any help could be + coming for the British, and by the time that messengers had hurried from + the direction of the British rear, to tell of gallopers who had ridden + past them and been swallowed by the shouting British lines, three + squadrons on fresh horses were close enough to be reckoned dangerous. + </p> + <p> + “Is that a gun they've got with them?” wondered Byng. “By the lord Harry, + no,—it's a coach and six! They're flogging it along like a + twelve-pounder! And what the devil's in those wagons?” + </p> + <p> + But he had no time for guesswork. The desultory thunder of the rebel + ordnance ceased, and the whole mass that hemmed him in began to revolve + within itself, and present a new front to the approaching cavalry. + </p> + <p> + “Caught on the hop, by God! The whole line will advance! Trumpeter!” + </p> + <p> + One trumpet-call blared out and a dozen echoed it. In a second more a roar + went up that is only heard on battle-fields. It has none of the exultant + shout of joy or of the rage that a mob throws up to heaven; it is not even + anger, as the cities know it, or the men who riot for advantage. It is a + welcome ironically offered up to Death—full-throated, and more + freighted with moral effect on an enemy than a dozen salvoes of artillery. + </p> + <p> + The thousands ahead tried hard to turn again and face two attacks at once; + but, though the units were efficiently controlled, there were none who + could swing the whole. Byng's decimated, forward-rushing fragment of a + mixed brigade, tight-reined and working like a piece of mechanism, struck + home into a mass of men who writhed, and fell away, and shouted to each + other. A third of them was out of reach, beyond the British rear; fully + another third was camped too far away to bring assistance at the first + wild onslaught. Messengers were sent to bring them up, but the messengers + were overtaken by a horde who ran. + </p> + <p> + Then, like arrows driven by the bows of death, three squadrons took them + on the flank as Cunningham changed direction suddenly and loosed his full + weight at the guns. Instead of standing and serving grape, the rebel + gunners tried to get their ordnance away—facing about again too + late, when the squadrons were almost on them. Then they died gamely, when + gameness served no further purpose. The Rangars rode them down and + butchered them, capturing every single gun, and leaving them while they + charged again at the rallying hordes ahead. + </p> + <p> + The strange assortment of horsed wagons and the lumbering six-horse coach + took full advantage of the momentary confusion to make at a gallop for the + British rear, where they drew up in line behind the Sikhs, who were + volleying at short range in the centre. + </p> + <p> + Byng detached two companies of British soldiers to do their amateur + damnedest with the guns, and, for infantry, they did good service with + them; fifteen or twenty minutes after the first onslaught the enemy was + writhing under the withering attention of his own abandoned ordnance. But + the odds were still tremendous, and the weight of numbers made the + ultimate outcome of the battle seem a foregone conclusion. + </p> + <p> + From the British rear heads appeared above the rising ground; the deserted + camp was rushed and set alight. The tents blazed like a beacon light, and + a moment later the Ghoorkas retaliated by setting fire to such of the + rebel camp as had fallen into British hands. + </p> + <p> + It was those two fires that saved the day. From the sky-line to the rebel + rear came the thunder of a salvo of artillery. It was the short bark of + twelve-pounders loaded up with blank—a signal—and the rebels + did not wait to see whether this was friend or foe. Help from one + unexpected source had reached the British; this, they argued, was probably + another column moving to the relief, and they drew off in reasonably + decent order—harried, pestered, stung, as they attempted to recover + camp-equipment or get away with stores and wagons, by Cunningham, Alwa, + and Mahommed Gunga. + </p> + <p> + In another hour the rebel army was a black swarm spreading on the eastern + sky-line, and on the far horizon to the north there shone the glint of + bayonets and helmet spikes, the dancing gleam of lance-tips, and the + dazzle from the long, polished bodies of a dozen guns. A galloper spurred + up with a message for Byng. + </p> + <p> + “You are to join my command,” it ran, “for a raid in force on Howrah, + where the rebels are supposed to have been concentrating for months past. + The idea is to paralyze the vitals of the movement before concentrating + somewhere on the road to Delhi, where the rebels are sure to make a most + determined stand.” + </p> + <p> + As he read it Mahommed Gunga galloped up to him, grinning like a boy. + </p> + <p> + “Cunnigan-sahib's respects, General-sahib! He asks leave to call his men + off, saying that he has done all the damage possible with only fifteen + hundred.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Call 'em off and send Cunningham to me. How did he shape?” + </p> + <p> + “Like a son of Cunnigan-bahadur! General-sahib-salaam!” + </p> + <p> + “No. Here, you old ruffian—shake hands, will you? Now send + Cunningham to me.” + </p> + <p> + Cunningham came up fifteen minutes later, with a Rangar orderly behind + him, and did his best to salute as though it were nothing more than an + ordinary meeting. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Here you are. 'Gratulate you, Cunningham! You came in the nick of + time. What kept you?” + </p> + <p> + “That 'ud take a long time to tell, sir. I've fifteen hundred horses about + ten miles from here, sir, left in charge of native levies, and I'd like + permission to go and fetch them before the levies make off with them.” + </p> + <p> + “Splendid! Yes, you'd better go for them. What's in the wagons.” + </p> + <p> + “The Howrah treasure, sir!” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “The whole of the Howrah treasure, sir! It's held as security. Howrah + guarantees to keep the peace and protect the homes of my men. I guaranteed + to hand him back the treasure when the show's over, less deductions for + damage done!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I'm—Who thought of that? You or Mahommed Gunga?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I expect we cooked it up between us, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “H-rrrr-umph! And what's in the six-horse coach?” + </p> + <p> + “A lady and her father.” + </p> + <p> + “The deuce they are!” + </p> + <p> + Byng rode up to the lumbering vehicle, signing to Cunningham to follow + him. + </p> + <p> + “General Byng,” said Cunningham. “Miss McClean, sir.” + </p> + <p> + A very much dishevelled and very weary-looking young woman with a wealth + of chestnut hair leaned through the window and smiled, not at the General + but at Cunningham. Byng stared—looked from one to the other of them—and + said “Hu-rrrr-umph!” again. + </p> + <p> + “It was she who made the whole thing possible, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “The very deuce it was!” It began to be evident that Byng was not a + ladies' man! + </p> + <p> + “This is Mr. McClean, sir—Rosemary's father. He helped her put the + whole scheme through.” + </p> + <p> + Byng nodded to the missionary and looked back at Rosemary McClean—then + from her to Cunningham again. + </p> + <p> + “Hu-rrrr-umph! Christian names already! More 'gratulations, eh?” + </p> + <p> + Rosemary's head and shoulders disappeared and Cunningham looked foolish. + </p> + <p> + “Well! Send Mahommed Gunga for the horses. Ride over there to where you + see General Evans's column and tell him the whole story. Take a small + escort and the treasure with you. And—ah—er—lemme see—take + this carriage, too. Oh, by the bye—you'd better ask General Evans to + make some arrangements for Miss McClean. Leave her over there with the + treasure. I want you back with my brigade, and I want you to be some sort + of use. Can't have love-making with the brigade, Mr. Cunningham!” + </p> + <p> + The Brigadier rode off with a very perfunctory salute. + </p> + <p> + “Isn't he a rather curmudgeony sort of officer?” asked Rosemary the moment + that his back was turned. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no!” laughed Cunningham. “That's Byng-bahadur's little way, that's + all. He's quite likely to insist on being best man or something of that + sort when the show's all over! Wait here while I fetch the escort.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + END +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Rung Ho!, by Talbot Mundy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUNG HO! *** + +***** This file should be named 5153-h.htm or 5153-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/5/5153/ + +Produced by M.R.J., and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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