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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/6751.txt b/6751.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..487863e --- /dev/null +++ b/6751.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7193 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Winds of the World, by Talbot Mundy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most +other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have +to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. + +Title: Winds of the World + +Author: Talbot Mundy + +Posting Date: October 13, 2014 [EBook #6751] +Release Date: October, 2004 +First Posted: January 23, 2003 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINDS OF THE WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Avinash Kothare, Tom Allen, Charles Franks and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + + + + + +THE WINDS OF THE WORLD + +By TALBOT MUNDY + + + + +THE WINDS OF THE WORLD + + + Ever the Winds of the World fare forth + (Oh, listen ye! Ah, listen ye!), + East and West, and South and North, + Shuttles weaving back and forth + Amid the warp! (Oh, listen ye!) + Can sightless touch--can vision keen + Hunt where the Winds of the World have been + And searching, learn what rumors mean? + (Nay, ye who are wise! Nay, listen ye!) + When tracks are crossed and scent is stale, + 'Tis fools who shout--the fast who fail! + But wise men harken-Listen ye! + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary of +squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of the +unexplainable--a rainy-weather field-day. The cold steel and khaki of +native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless between British +infantry and two batteries of horse artillery. The only noticeable +sound was the voice of a general officer, that rose and fell explaining +and asserting pride in his command, but saying nothing as to the why of +exercises in the mud. Nor did he mention why the censorship was in full +force. He did not say a word of Germany, or Belgium. + +In front of the third squadron from the right, Risaldar-Major Ranjoor +Singh sat his charger like a big bronze statue. He would have stooped +to see his right spur better, that shone in spite of mud, for though he +has been a man these five-and-twenty years, Ranjoor Singh has neither +lost his boyhood love of such things, nor intends to; he has been +accused of wearing solid silver spurs in bed. But it hurt him to bend +much, after a day's hard exercise on a horse such as he rode. + +Once--in a rock-strewn gully where the whistling Himalayan wind was +Acting Antiseptic-of-the-Day--a young surgeon had taken hurried +stitches over Ranjoor Singh's ribs without probing deep enough for an +Afghan bullet; that bullet burned after a long day in the saddle. And +Bagh was--as the big brute's name implied--a tiger of a horse, +unweakened even by monsoon weather, and his habit was to spring with +terrific suddenness when his rider moved on him. + +So Ranjoor Singh sat still. He was willing to eat agony at any time for +the squadron's sake--for a squadron of Outram's Own is a unity to +marvel at, or envy; and its leader a man to be forgiven spurs a +half-inch longer than the regulation. As a soldier, however, he was +careful of himself when occasion offered. + +Sikh-soldier-wise, he preferred Bagh to all other horses in the world, +because it had needed persuasion, much stroking of a black beard--to +hide anxiety--and many a secret night-ride--to sweat the brute's +savagery--before the colonel-sahib could be made to see his virtues as +a charger and accept him into the regiment. Sikh-wise, he loved all +things that expressed in any way his own unconquerable fire. Most of +all, however, he loved the squadron; there was no woman, nor anything +between him and D Squadron; but Bagh came next. + +Spurs were not needed when the general ceased speaking, and the British +colonel of Outram's Own shouted an order. Bagh, brute energy beneath +hand-polished hair and plastered dirt, sprang like a loosed +Hell-tantrum, and his rider's lips drew tight over clenched teeth as he +mastered self, agony and horse in one man's effort. Fight how he would, +heel, tooth and eye all flashing, Bagh was forced to hold his rightful +place in front of the squadron, precisely the right distance behind the +last supernumerary of the squadron next in front. + +Line after rippling line, all Sikhs of the true Sikh baptism except for +the eight of their officers who were European, Outram's Own swept down +a living avenue of British troops; and neither gunners nor infantry +could see one flaw in them, although picking flaws in native regiments +is almost part of the British army officer's religion. + +To the blare of military music, through a bog of their own mixing, the +Sikhs trotted for a mile, then drew into a walk, to bring the horses +into barracks cool enough for watering. + +They reached stables as the sun dipped under the near-by acacia trees, +and while the black-bearded troopers scraped and rubbed the mud from +weary horses, Banjoor Singh went through a task whose form at least was +part of his very life. He could imagine nothing less than death or +active service that could keep him from inspecting every horse in the +squadron before he ate or drank, or as much as washed himself. + +But, although the day had been a hard one and the strain on the horses +more than ordinary, his examination now was so perfunctory that the +squadron gaped; the troopers signaled with their eyes as he passed, +little more than glancing at each horse. Almost before his back had +vanished at the stable entrance, wonderment burst into words. + +"For the third time he does thus!" + +"See! My beast overreached, and he passed without detecting it! Does +the sun set the same way still?" + +"I have noticed that he does thus each time after a field-day. What is +the connection? A field-day in the rains--a general officer talking to +us afterward about the Salt, as if a Sikh does not understand the Salt +better than a British general knows English--and our risaldar-major +neglecting the horses--is there a connection?" + +"Aye. What is all this? We worked no harder in the war against the +Chitralis. There is something in my bones that speaks of war, when I +listen for a while!" + +"War! Hear him, brothers! Talk is talk, but there will be no war until +India grows too fat to breathe--unless the past be remembered and we +make one for ourselves!" + + * * * * * + +There was silence for a while, if a change of sounds is silence. The +Delhi mud sticks as tight as any, and the kneading of it from out of +horsehair taxes most of a trooper's energy and full attention. Then, +the East being the East in all things, a solitary trooper picked up +the scent and gave tongue, as a true hound guides the pack. + +"Who is _she_?" he wondered, loud enough for fifty men to hear. + +From out of a cloud of horse-dust, where a stable helper on probation +combed a tangled tail, came one word of swift enlightenment. + +"Yasmini!" + +"Ah-h-h-h!" In a second the whole squadron was by the ears, and the +stable-helper was the center of an interest he had not bargained for. + +"Nay, sahibs, I but followed him, and how should I know? Nay, then I +did not follow him! It so happened. I took that road, and he stepped +out of a _tikka-gharri_ at her door. Am I blind? Do I not know her +door? Does not everybody know it? Who am I that I should know why he +goes again? But--does a moth fly only once to the lamp-flame? Does a +drunkard drink but once? By the Guru, nay! May my tongue parch in my +throat if I said he is a drunkard! I said--I meant to say--seeing she +is Yasmini, and he having been to see her once--and being again in a +great hurry--whither goes he?" + +So the squadron chose a sub-committee of inquiry, seven strong, that +being a lucky number the wide world over, and the movements of the +risaldar-major were reported one by one to the squadron with the +infinite exactness of small detail that seems so useless to all save +Easterns. + +Fifteen minutes after he had left his quarters, no longer in khaki +uniform, but dressed as a Sikh gentleman, the whole squadron knew the +color of his undershirt, also that he had hired a _tikka-gharri_, and +that his only weapon was the ornamental dagger that a true Sikh wears +twisted in his hair. One after one, five other men reported him nearly +all the way through Delhi, through the Chandni Chowk--where the last +man but one nearly lost him in the evening crowd--to the narrow place +where, with a bend in the street to either hand, is Yasmini's. + +The last man watched him through Yasmini's outer door and up the lower +stairs before hurrying back to the squadron. And a little later on, +being almost as inquisitive as they were careful for their major, the +squadron delegated other men, in mufti, to watch for him at the foot of +Yasmini's stairs, or as near to the foot as might be, and see him +safely home again if they had to fight all Asia on the way. + +These men had some money with them, and weapons hidden underneath their +clothes; for, having betted largely on the quail-fight at Abdul's +stables, the squadron was in funds. + +"In case of trouble one can bribe the police," counseled Nanak Singh, +and he surely ought to know, for he was the oldest trooper, and trouble +everlasting had preserved him from promotion. "But weapons are good, +when policemen are not looking," he added, and the squadron agreed with +him. + +It was Tej Singh, not given to talking as is rule, who voiced the +general opinion. + +"Now we are on the track of things. Now, perhaps, we shall know the +meaning of field exercises during the monsoon, with our horses up to +the belly in blue mud! The winds of all the world blow into Yasmini's +and out again. Our risaldar-major knows nothing at all of women--and +that is the danger. But he can listen to the wind; and, what he hears, +sooner or later we shall know, too. I smell happenings!" + +Those three words comprised the whole of it. The squadron spent most of +the night whispering, dissecting, analyzing, subdividing, weighing, +guessing at that smell of happenings, while its risaldar-major, +thinking his secret all his own, investigated nearer to its source. + + + Have you heard the dry earth shrug herself + For a storm that tore the trees? + + Have you watched loot-hungry Faithful + Praising Allah on their knees? + + Have you felt the short hairs rising + When the moon slipped out of sight, + + And the chink of steel on rock explained + That footfall in the night? + + Have you seen a gray boar sniff up-wind + In the mauve of waking day? + + Have you heard a mad crowd pause and think? + Have you seen all Hell to pay? + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Yasmini bears a reputation that includes her gift for dancing and her +skill in song, but is not bounded thereby, Her stairs illustrated +it--the two flights of steep winding stairs that lead to her +bewildering reception-floor; they seem to have been designed to take +men's breath away, and to deliver them at the top defenseless. + +But Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh mounted them with scarcely an effort, +as a man who could master Bagh well might, and at the top his +middle-aged back was straight and his eye clear. The cunning, curtained +lights did not distract him; so he did not make the usual mistake of +thinking that the Loveliness who met him was Yasmini. + +Yasmini likes to make her first impression of the evening on a man just +as he comes from making an idiot of himself; so the maid who curtsies +in the stair-head maze of mirrored lights has been trained to imitate +her. But Ranjoor Singh flipped the girl a coin, and it jingled at her +feet. + +The maid ceased bowing, too insulted to retort. The piece of +silver--she would have stooped for gold, just as surely as she would +have recognized its ring--lay where it fell. Ranjoor Singh stepped +forward toward a glass-bead curtain through which a soft light shone, +and an unexpected low laugh greeted him. It was merry, mocking, +musical--and something more. There was wisdom hidden in +it--masquerading as frivolity; somewhere, too, there was +villainy-villainy that she who laughed knew all about and found more +interesting than a play. + +Then suddenly the curtain parted, and Yasmini blocked the way, standing +with arms spread wide to either door-post, smiling at him; and Ranjoor +Singh had to stop and stare whether it suited him or not. + +Yasmini is not old, nor nearly old, for all that India is full of tales +about her, from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin. In a land where twelve +is a marriageable age, a woman need not live to thirty to be talked +about; and if she can dance as Yasmini does--though only the Russian +ballet can do that--she has the secret of perpetual youth to help her +defy the years. No doubt the soft light favored her, but she might have +been Ranjoor Singh's granddaughter as she barred his way and looked him +up and down impudently through languorous brown eyes. + +"Salaam, O plowman!" she mocked. She was not actually still an instant, +for the light played incessantly on her gauzy silken trousers and +jeweled slippers, but she made no move to admit him. "My honor grows! +Twice--nay, three times in a little while!" + +She spoke in the Jat tongue fluently; but that was not remarkable, +because Yasmini is mistress of so many languages that men say one can +not speak in her hearing and not be understood. + +"I am a soldier," answered Ranjoor Singh more than a little stiffly. + +"'I am a statesman,' said the viceroy's babu! A Sikh is a Jat farmer +with a lion's tail and the manners of a buffalo! Age or gallantry will +bend a man's back. What keeps it straight--the smell of the farmyard on +his shoes?" + +Ranjoor Singh did not answer, nor did he bow low as she intended. She +forgot, perhaps, that on a previous occasion he had seen her snatch a +man's turban from his head and run with it into the room, to the man's +sweating shame. He kicked his shoes off calmly and waited as a man +waits on parade, looking straight into her eyes that were like dark +jewels, only no jewels in the world ever glowed so wonderfully; he +thought he could read anger in them, but that ruffled him no more than +her mockery. + +"Enter, then, O farmer!" she said, turning lithely as a snake, to +beckon him and lead the way. + +Now he had only a back view of her, but the contour of her neck and +chin and her shoulders mocked him just as surely as her lips were +making signals that he could not see. One answer to the signals was the +tittering of twenty maids, who sat together by the great deep window, +ready to make music. + +"They laugh to see a farmer strayed from his manure-pile!" purred +Yasmini over her shoulder; but Ranjoor Singh followed her unperturbed. + +He was finding time to study the long room, its divans and deep +cushions around the walls; and it did not escape his notice that many +people were expected. He guessed there was room for thirty or forty to +sit at ease. + +Like a pale blue will-o'-the-wisp, a glitter in the cunning lights, she +led him to a far end of the room where many cushions were, There she +turned on him with a snake-like suddenness that was one of her surest +tricks. + +"I shall have great guests to-night--I shall be busy." + +"That is thy affair," said Ranjoor Singh, aware that her eyes were +seeking to read his soul. The dropped lids did not deceive him. + +"Then, what do you want here?" + +That question was sheer impudence. It is very well understood in Delhi +that any native gentleman of rank may call on Yasmini between midday +and midnight without offering a reason for his visit; otherwise it +would be impossible to hold a salon and be a power in politics, in a +land where politics run deep, but where men do not admit openly to +which party they belong. But Yasmini represents the spirit of the Old +East, sweeter than a rose and twice as tempting--with a poisoned thorn +inside. And here was the New East, in the shape of a middle-aged Sikh +officer taught by Young England. + +He annoyed her. + +Ranjoor Singh's answer was to seat himself, with a dignity the West has +yet to learn, on a long divan against the wall that gave him a good +view of the entrance and all the rest of the room, window included. +Instantly Yasmini flung herself on the other end of it, and lay face +downward, with her chin resting on both hands. + +She studied his face intently for sixty seconds, and it very seldom +takes her that long to read a man's character, guess at his past, and +make arrangements for his future, if she thinks him worth her while. + +"Why are you here?" she asked again at the end of her scrutiny. + +Ranjoor Singh seemed not to hear her; he was watching other men who +entered, and listening to the sound of yet others on the stairs. No +other Sikh came in, nor more than one of any other caste or tribe; yet +he counted thirty men in half as many minutes. + +"I think you are a buffalo!" she said at last; but if Ranjoor Singh was +interested in her thoughts he forgot to admit it. + +A dozen more men entered, and the air, already heavy, grew thick with +tobacco smoke mingling with the smoke of sandal-wood that floated back +and forth in layers as the punkahs swung lazily. Outside, the rain +swished and chilled the night air; but the hot air from inside hurried +out to meet the cool, and none of the cool came in. The noise of rain +became depressing until Yasmini made a signal to her maids and they +started to make music. + +Then Yasmini caught a new sound on the stairs, and swiftly, instantly, +instead of glancing to the entrance, her eyes sought Ranjoor Singh's; +and she saw that he had heard it too. So she sat up as if enlightenment +had come and had brought disillusion in its wake. + +The glass-bead curtain jingled, and a maid backed through it giggling, +followed in a hurry by a European, dressed in a white duck apology for +evening clothes. He seemed a little the worse for drink, but not too +drunk to recognize the real Yasmini when he saw her and to blush +crimson for having acted like an idiot. + +"Queen of the Night!" he said in Hindustani that was peculiarly +mispronounced. + +"_Box-wallah!_" she answered under her breath; but she smiled at him, +and aloud she said, "Will the sahib honor us all by being seated?" + +A maid took charge of the man at once, and led him to a seat not far +from the middle of the room. Yasmini, whose eyes were on Ranjoor Singh +every other second, noticed that the Sikh, having summed up the +European, had already lost all interest. + +But there, were other footsteps. The curtain parted again to admit a +second European, a somewhat older man, who glanced back over his +shoulder deferentially and, to Yasmini's unerring eye, tried to carry +off prudish timidity with an air of knowingness. + +"Who is he?" demanded Ranjoor Singh; and Yasmini rattled the bracelets +on her ankles loud enough to hide a whisper. + +"An agent," she answered. "He has an office here in Delhi. The first +man is his clerk, who is supposed to be the leader into mischief; they +have made him a little drunk lest he understand too much. I have sent a +maid to him that he may understand even less." + +The second man was closely followed by a third, and Yasmini smothered a +squeal of excitement, for she saw that Ranjoor Singh's eyes were ablaze +at last and that he had sat bolt upright without knowing it. The third +man was dressed like the other two in white duck, but he wore his +clothes not as they did. He was tall and straight. One could easily +enough imagine him dressed better. + +His quick, intelligent gray eyes swept over the whole room while he +took two steps, and at once picked out Yasmini as the mistress of the +place; but he waited to bow to her until the first man pointed her out. +Then it seemed to Ranjoor Singh--who was watching as minutely as +Yasmini in turn watched him--that, when he bowed, this tall, +confident-looking individual almost clicked his heels together, but +remembered not to do so just in time. The eyes of the East miss no +small details. Yasmini, letting her jeweled ankles jingle again, +chuckled to Ranjoor Singh. + +"And they say he comes from Europe selling goods," she whispered. "The +fat man who is frightened claims to be a customer for bales of +blankets. Since when has the customer been humble while the seller +calls the tune? Look!" + +The second arrival and the third sat down together as she spoke; and +while the second sat like a merchant, nursing fat hands on a +consequential paunch, the third sat straight-backed, kicking a little +sidewise with his left leg. Ranjoor Singh saw, too, that he kept his +heels a little more than a spur's length off from the divan's drapery. + +"Listen!" hissed Ranjoor Singh. + +Yasmini wriggled closer, and pretended to be watching her maids over by +the window. + +"That man who came last," said the risaldar-major, "has been told that +thou art like a spider, watching from the middle of the web of India." + +"Then for once they have told the truth!" she chuckled. + +"In the bazaar he asked to be shown men of all the tribes, that he +might study their commercial needs. He was told to come here and meet +them; and these were sent for from the caravanserais. Is it not so?" + +"Art thou thyself for the Raj?" asked Yasmini. + +"I lead a squadron of Sikh cavalry," said Ranjoor Singh, "and you ask +me am I for the Raj?" + +"The buffalo that carries water for the office lawn is for the Raj!" +said Yasmini. + +"Then he and I are brothers." + +"And he, yonder--what of him?" She was growing impatient, for the tune +was nearly at an end, and it would be time presently for her to take up +the burden of entertainment. + +"He will ask, perhaps, to speak with a Sikh of influence." + +"Sahib, 'to hear is to obey,'" she mocked, rising to her feet. + +"Listen yet!" commanded Ranjoor Singh. "Serve me in this matter, and +there will be great reward. I, who am only one, might die by a dagger, +or a rope in the dark, or ground glass in my bread; but then there +would be a squadron, and perhaps a regiment, to ask questions." + +"Perhaps?" + +"Perhaps. Who knows?" + +He spoke from modesty, sure of the squadron that he loved so much +better than his life, but not caring to magnify his own importance by +claiming the regard of the other squadrons, too. But Yasmini, who never +in her life went straight from point to point of an idea and never +could believe that anybody else did, supposed he meant that one +squadron was in his confidence, whereas the rest had not yet been +sounded. + +"So speaks one who is for the Raj!" she grinned. + +Playing for profit and amusement, she never, never let anybody know +which side she had taken in any game. Therefore she despised a man who +showed his hand to her, as she believed Ranjoor Singh had done. But she +only showed contempt when it suited her, and by no means always when +she felt it. + +The minor music ceased and all eyes in the room were turned to her. She +rose to her feet as a hooded cobra comes toward its prey, sparing a +sidewise surreptitious smile of confidence for Ranjoor Singh that no +eye caught save his; yet as she turned from him and swayed in the first +few steps of a dance devised that minute, his quick ear caught the +truth of her opinion: + +"Buffalo!" she murmured. + +The flutes in the window wailed about mystery. The lights, and the +sandal-smoke, and the expectant silence emphasized it. Step by step, as +if the spirit of all dancing had its home in her, she told a wordless +tale, using her feet and every sinuous muscle as no other woman in all +India ever did. + +Men say that Yasmini is partly Russian, and that may be true, for she +speaks Russian fluently. Russian or not, the members of the Russian +ballet are the only others in the world who share her art. Certainly, +she keeps in touch with Russia, and knows more even than the Indian +government about what goes on beyond India's northern frontier. She +makes and magnifies the whole into a mystery; and her dance that night +expressed the fascination mystery has for her. + +And then she sang. It is her added gift of song that makes Yasmini +unique, for she can sing in any of a dozen languages, and besides the +love-songs that come southward from the hills, she knows all the +interminable ballads of the South and the Central Provinces. But when, +as that evening, she is at her best, mixing magic under the eyes of the +inquisitive, she sings songs of her own making and only very rarely the +same song twice. She sang that night of the winds of the world which, +she claims, carry the news to her; although others say her sources of +information speak more distinctly. + +It seemed that the thread of an idea ran through song and dance alike, +and that the hillmen and beyond-the-hills-men, who sat back-to-the-wall +and watched, could follow the meaning of it. They began to crowd +closer, to squat cross-legged on the floor, in circles one outside the +other, until the European three became the center of three rings of men +who stared at them with owls' solemnity. + +Then Yasmini ceased dancing. Then one of the Europeans drew his watch +out; and he had to show it to the other two before he could convince +them that they had sat for two hours without wanting to do anything but +watch and listen. + +"So _wass!_" said one of them--the drunken. + +_"Du lieber Gott--schon halb zwolf!"_ said the second. + +The third man made no remark at all. He was watching Ranjoor Singh. + +The risaldar--major had left the divan by the end wall and walked--all +grim straight lines in contrast to Yasmini's curves--to a spot directly +facing the three Europeans; and it seemed there sat a hillman on the +piece of floor he coveted. + +"Get up!" he commanded. "Make room!" + +The hillman did not budge, for an Afridi pretends to feel for a Sikh +the scorn that a Sikh feels truly for Afridis. The flat of Ranjoor +Singh's foot came to his assistance, and the hillman budged. In an +instant he was on his feet, with a lightning right hand reaching for +his knife. + +But Yasmini allows no butcher's work on her premises, and her words +within those walls are law, since no man knows who is on whose side. +Yasmini beckoned him, and the Afridi slouched toward her sullenly. She +whispered something, and he started for the stairs at once, without any +further protest. + +Then there vanished all doubt as to which of the three Europeans was +most important. The man who had come in first had accepted sherbet from +the maid who sat beside him; he went suddenly from drowsiness to +slumber, and the woman spurned his bullet-head away from her shoulder, +letting him fall like a log among the cushions. The stout second man +looked frightened and sat nursing helpless hands. But the third man sat +forward, and tense silence fell on the assembly as the eyes of every +man sought his. + +Only Yasmini, hovering in the background, had time to watch anything +other than those gray European eyes; she saw that they were interested +most in Ranjoor Singh, and the maids who noticed her expression of +sweet innocence knew that she was thinking fast. + +"You are a Sikh?" said the gray-eyed man; and the crowd drew in its +breath, for he spoke Hindustani with an accent that very few achieve, +even with long practise. + +"Then you are of a brave nation--you will understand me. The Sikhs are +a martial race. Their theory of politics is based on the military +spirit--is it not so?" + +Ranjoor Singh, who understood and tried to live the Sikh religion with +all his gentlemanly might, was there to acquire information, not to +impart it. He grunted gravely. + +"All martial nations expand eventually. They tell me--I have +heard--some of you Sikhs have tried Canada?" + +Ranjoor Singh did not wince, though his back stiffened when the men +around him grinned; it is a sore point with the Sikhs that Canada does +not accept their emigrants. + +"Sikhs are admitted into all the German colonies," said the man with +the gray eyes. "They are welcome." + +"Do many go?" asked Ranjoor Singh. + +"That is the point. The Sikhs want a place in the sun from which they +are barred at present--eh? Now, Germany--" + +"Germany? Where is Germany?" asked Yasmini. She understands the last +trick in the art of getting a story on its way. "To the west is +England. Farther west, Ameliki. To the north lies Russia. To the south +the _kali pani_-ocean. Where is Germany?" + +The man with the gray eyes took her literally, since his nation are not +slow at seizing opportunity. He launched without a word more of +preliminary into a lecture on Germany that lasted hours and held his +audience spellbound. It was colorful, complete, and it did not seem to +have been memorized. But that was art. + +He had no word of blame for England. He even had praise, when praise +made German virtue seem by that much greater; and the inference from +first to last was of German super-virtue. + +Some one in the crowd--who bore a bullet-mark in proof he did not +jest--suggested to him that the British army was the biggest and +fiercest in the world. So he told them of a German army, millions +strong, that marched in league--long columns--an army that guarded by +the prosperous hundred thousand factory chimneys that smoked until the +central European sky was black. + +Long, long after midnight, in a final burst of imagination, he likened +Germany to a bee--hive from which a swarm must soon emerge for lack of +room inside. And he proved, then, that he knew he had made an +impression on them, for he dismissed them with an impudence that would +have set them laughing at him when he first began to speak. + +"Ye have my leave to go!" he said, as if he owned the place; and they +all went except one. + +"That is a lot of talk," said Ranjoor Singh, when the last man had +started for the stairs. "What does it amount to? When will the bees +swarm?" + +The German eyed him keenly, but the Sikh's eyes did not flinch. + +"What is your rank?" the German asked. + +"Squadron leader!" + +"Oh!" + +The two stood up, and now there was no mistake about the German's +heels; they clicked. The two were almost of a height, although the +Sikh's head--dress made him seem the taller. They were both unusually +fine--looking men, and limb for limb they matched. + +"If war were in Europe you would be taken there to fight," said the +German. + +Ranjoor Singh showed no surprise. + +"Whether you wanted to fight or not." + +There was no hint of laughter in the Sikh's brown eyes. + +"Germany has no quarrel with the Sikhs." + +"I have heard of none," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"Wherever the German flag should fly, after a war, the Sikhs would have +free footing." + +Ranjoor Singh looked interested, even pleased. + +"Who is not against Germany is for her." + +"Let us have plain words' said Ranjoor Singh, leading the way to a +corner in which he judged they could not be overheard; there he turned +suddenly, borrowing a trick from Yasmini. + +"I am a Sikh--a patriot. What are you offering?" + +"The freedom of the earth!" the German answered. "Self--government! The +right to emigrate. Liberty!" + +"On what condition? For a bargain has two sides." + +"That the Sikhs fail England!" + +"When?" + +"When the time comes! What is the answer?" + +"I will answer when the time comes," answered Ranjoor Singh, saluting +stiffly before turning on his heel. + +Then he stalked out of the room, with a slight bow to Yasmini as he +passed. + +"Buffalo!" she murmured after him. "Jat buffalo!" + +Then the Germans went away, after some heavy compliments that seemed to +amuse Yasmini prodigiously, helping along the man who had drunk sherbet +and who now seemed inclined to weep. They dragged him down the stairs +between them, backward. Yasmini waited at the stair--head until she +heard them pull him into a _gharri_ and drive away. Then she turned to +her favorite maid. + +"Them--those cattle--I understand!" she said. "But it does not suit me +that a Sikh, a Jat, a buffalo, should come here making mysteries of his +own without consulting me! And what does not suit me I do not tolerate! +Go, get that Afridi whom the soldier kicked--I told him to wait outside +in the street until I sent for him." + +The Afridi came, nearly as helpless as the man who had drunk sherbet, +though less tearful and almost infinitely more resentful. What clothing +had not been torn from him was soaked in blood, and there was no inch +of him that was not bruised. + +"Krishna!" said Yasmini impiously. + +"Allah!" swore the Afridi. + +"Who did it? What has happened?" + +"Outside in the street I said to some men who waited that Ranjoor Singh +the Sikh is a bastard. From then until now they beat me, only leaving +off to follow him hence when he came out through the door!" + +Yasmini laughed, peal upon peal of silver laughter--of sheer merriment. + +"The gods love Yasmini!" she chuckled. "Aye, the gods love me! The Jat +spoke of a squadron; it is evident that he spoke truth. So his squadron +watched him here! Go, _jungli_! Go, wash the blood away. Thou shalt +have revenge! Come again to--morrow. Nay, go now, I would sleep when I +have finished laughing. Aye--the gods love Yasmini!" + + + The West Wind blows through the Ajmere Gate + And whispers low (Oh, listen ye!), + "The fed wolf curls by his drowsy mate + In a tight--trod earth; but the lean wolves wait, + And the hunger gnaws!" (Oh, listen ye!) + "Can fed wolves fight? But yestere'en + Their eyes were bright, their fangs were clean; + They viewed, they took but yestere'en," + (Oh, listen, wise heads, listen ye!) + "Because they fed, is blood less red, + Or fangs less sharp, or hunger dead?" + (Look well to the loot, and listen ye!) + +YASMINI'S SONG + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The colonel of Outram's Own dropped into a club where he was only one, +and not the greatest, of many men entitled to respect. There were three +men talking by a window, their voices drowned by the din of rain on the +veranda roof, each of whom nodded to him. He chose, however, a solitary +chair, for, though subalterns do not believe it, a colonel has exactly +that diffidence about approaching senior civilians which a subaltern +ought to feel. + +In a moment all that was visible of him from the door was a pair of +brown riding-boots, very much fore-shortened, resting on the long arm +of a cane chair, and two sets of wonderfully modeled fingers that held +up a newspaper. From the window where the three men talked he could be +seen in profile. + +"Wears well--doesn't he?" said one of them. + +"Swears well, too, confound him!" + +"Hah! Been trying to pump him, eh?" + +"Yes. He's like a big bird catching flies--picks off your questions one +at a time, with one eye on you and the other one cocked for the next +question. Get nothing out of him but yes or no. Good fellow, though, +when you're not drawing him." + +"You mean trying to draw him. He's the best that come. Wish they were +all like Kirby." + +The man who had not spoken yet--he looked younger, was some years +older, and watched the faces of the other two while seeming to listen +to something in the distance--looked at a cheap watch nervously. + +"Wish the Sikhs were all like Kirby!" he said. "If this business comes +to a head, we're going to wish we had a million Kirbys. What did he +say? Temper of his men excellent, I suppose?" + +"Used that one word." "Um-m-m! No suspicions, eh?" "Said, 'No, no +suspicions!'" "Uh! I'll have a word with him." He waddled off, shaking +his drab silk suit into shape and twisting a leather watch-guard around +his finger. + +"Believe it will come to anything?" asked one of the two men he had +left behind. + +"Dunno. Hope not. Awful business if it does." + +"Remember how we were promised a world-war two years ago, just before +the Balkans took fire?" + +"Yes. That was a near thing, too. But they weren't quite ready then. +Now they are ready, and they think we're not. If I were asked, I'd say +we ought to let them know we're ready for 'em. They want to fight +because they think they can catch us napping; they'd think twice if +they knew they couldn't do it." + +"Are they blind and deaf? Can't they see and hear?" + +"_Quern deus vult perdere, prius dementat_, Ponsonby, my boy." + +The man in drab silk slipped into a chair next to Kirby's as a wolf +slips into his lair, very circumspectly, and without noise; then he +rutched the chair sidewise toward Kirby with about as much noise as a +company of infantry would make. + +"Had a drink?" he asked, as Kirby looked up from his paper. "Have one?" + +"Ginger ale, please," said Kirby, putting the paper down. + +A turbaned waiter brought long glasses in which ice tinkled, and the +two sipped slowly, not looking at each other. + +"Know Yasmini?" asked the man in drab silk suddenly. + +"Heard of her, of course." + +"Ever see her?" + +"No." + +"Ah! Most extraordinary woman. Wonderful!" + +Kirby looked puzzled, and held his peace. + +"Any of your officers ever visit her?" + +"Not when they're supposed to be on duty." + +"But at other times?" + +"None of my affair if they do. Don't know, I'm sure." + +"Um-m-m!" + +"Yes," said Kirby, without vehemence. + +"Look at his beak!" said one of the two men by the window. "Never see a +big bird act that way? Look at his bright eye!" + +"Wish mine were as bright, and my beak as aquiline; means +directness--soldierly directness, that does!" + +"Who is your best native officer, supposing you've any choice?" asked +the man in the drab silk suit, speaking to the ceiling apparently. + +"Ranjoor Singh," said Kirby promptly. + +It was quite clear there was no doubt in his mind. + +"How is he best? In what way?" + +"Best man I've got. Fit to command the regiment." + +"Um-m-m!" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +The man in drab sat sidewise and caught Kirby's eye, which was not +difficult. There was nothing furtive about him. + +"With a censorship that isn't admitted, but which has been rather +obvious for more than a month; with all forces undergoing field +training during the worst of the rains--it's fair to suppose your men +smell something?" + +"They've been sweating, certainly." + +"Do they smell a rat?" + +"Yes." + +"Ask questions?" + +"Yes." + +"What do you tell them?" + +"That I don't know, and they must wait until I do." + +"Any recent efforts been made to tamper with them?" + +"Not more than I reported. You know, of course, of the translations +from Canadian papers, discussing the rejection of Sikh immigrants? Each +man received a copy through the mail." + +"Yes. We caught the crowd who printed that. Couldn't discover, though, +how it got into the regiment's mail bags without being postmarked. +Let's see--wasn't Ranjoor Singh officer-of-the-day?" + +"Yes." + +"Um-m-m! Would it surprise you to know that Ranjoor Singh visits +Yasmini?" + +"Wouldn't interest me." + +"What follows is in strict confidence, please." + +"I'm listening." + +"I want you to hear reason. India, the whole of India, mind, has its +ear to the ground. All up and down the length of the land--in every +bazaar--in the ranks of every native regiment--it's known that people +representing some other European Power are trying to sow discontent +with our rule; and it's obvious to any native that we're on the watch +for something big that we expect to break any minute. Is that clear?" + +"Yes." + +"Our strongest card is the loyalty of the native troops." + +"Yes." + +"Everybody knows that. Also, this thing we're looking for is most +damnably real--might burst to-day, to-morrow--any time. So, even with +the censorship in working order, it wouldn't be wise to arrest a native +officer merely on suspicion." + +"I'd arrest one of mine," said Kirby, "if I had any reason to suspect +him for a second." + +"Wouldn't be wise! You mustn't!" The man in drab silk shook his head. +"Now, suppose you were to arrest Ranjoor Singh--" + +Kirby laughed outright. + +"Suppose the Chandni Chowk were Regent Street!" he jeered. + +"Last night," said the man in drab silk, "Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh +visited Yasmini, leaving six or more of the men of his squadron waiting +for him in the street outside. In Yasmini's room he listened for hours +to a lecture on Germany, delivered by a German who has British +naturalization papers, whether forged or not is not yet clear. + +"After the lecture he had a private conversation lasting some minutes +with the German who says he is an Englishman, and who, by the way, +speaks Hindustani like a native. And, before he started home, his men +who waited in the street thrashed an Afridi within an inch of his life +for threatening to report Ranjoor Singh's presence at the lecture to +the authorities." + +"Who told you this?" asked Colonel Kirby. + +"The Afridi, Yasmini, and three hillmen who were there by invitation. I +spoke with them all less than an hour ago. They all agree. But if +Ranjoor Singh were asked about it, he would lie himself out of it in +any of a dozen ways, and would be on his guard in future. If he were +arrested, it would bring to a head what may prove to be a passing +trifle; it would make the men angry, and the news would spread, +whatever we might do to prevent it." + +"What am I to understand that you want, then?" asked Kirby. + +"Watch him closely, without letting him suspect it." + +"Before I'd seriously consider orders to do that, they'd have to come +through military channels in the regular way," said Kirby, without +emotion. + +"I could arrange that, of course. I'll mention it to Todhunter." + +"And if the order reached me in the regular way, I'd resign rather than +carry it out." + +"Um-m-m!" said the man in drab silk. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"You seem to forget that I, too, represent a government department, and +have the country's interests at heart. Do you imagine I have a grudge +against Ranjoor Singh?" + +"I forget nothing of the kind," said Kirby, "and imagination doesn't +enter into it. I know Ranjoor Singh, and that's enough. If he's a +traitor, so am I. If he's not a loyal gallant officer, then I'm not +either. I'll stand or fall by his honor, for I know the man and you +don't." + +"Uh!" said the man in drab silk. + +"Yes," said Colonel Kirby. + +"Look!" said one of the two men at the window. "Direct as a hornet's +sting--isn't a kink in him! Look at the angle of his chin!" + +"You can tell his Sikh officers; they imitate him." + +"Do I understand you to refuse me point--blank?" asked the man in the +drab suit, still fidgeting with his watch--guard. Perhaps he guessed +that two men in the window were discussing him. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"I shall have to go over your head." + +"Understand me, then. If an order of that kind reaches me, I shall +arrest Ranjoor Singh at once, so that he may stand trial and be cleared +like a gentleman. I'll have nothing done to one of my officers that +would be intolerable if done to me, so long as I command the regiment!" + +"What alternative do you suggest?" asked the man in gray, with a wry +face. + +"Ask Ranjoor Singh about it." + +"Who? You or I?" + +"He wouldn't answer you." + +"Then ask him yourself. But I shall remember, Colonel Kirby, that you +did not oblige me in the matter." + +"Very well," said Kirby, + +"Another drink?" + +"No, thanks." + +"Who won?" asked one of the two men in the window. + +"Kirby!" + +"I don't think so. I've been watching his face. He's the least bit +rattled. It's somebody else who has won; he's been fighting another +man's battle. But it's obvious who lost--look at that watch-chain +going! Come away." + + +_If a man has a price at all, his price is neither high nor low, but +just that price that you will pay him._ + +NATIVE PROVERB. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Of course an Afridi can be depended on to overdo anything. The +particular Afridi whom Ranjoor Singh had kicked was able to see very +little virtue in Yasmin's method of attack. Suckled in a mountain-range +where vengeance is believed as real and worthy as love must be +transitory, his very bowels ached for physical retaliation, just as his +skin and bones smarted from the beating the risaldar-major's men had +given him. + +He was scoffed at by small boys as he slunk through byways of the big +bazaar. A woman who had smiled at him but a day ago now emptied +unseemly things on him from an upper story when he went to moan beneath +her window. He decided to include that woman in his vengeance, too, if +possible, but not to miss Ranjoor Singh on her account; there was not +room for him and Ranjoor Singh on one rain-pelted earth, but, if needs +must, the woman might wait a while. + +As nearly all humans do when their mood is similar to his, he slunk +into dark places, growling like a dog and believing all the world his +enemy. He came very near to the summit of exasperation when, on making +application at a free dispensary, his sores were dressed for him by a +Hindu assistant apothecary who lectured him on brotherly love with +interlarded excerpts from Carlyle done into Hindustani. But the climax +came when a native policeman poked him in the ribs with a truncheon and +ordered him out of sight. + +With a snarl that would have done credit to a panther driven off its +prey, he slunk up a byway to shelter himself and think of new +obscenities; and as he stood beneath a cloth awning to await the +passing of a more than usually heavy downpour, the rotten fibers burst +at last and let ten gallons of filthy rain down on him. + +From that minute he could see only red; so it was in a red haze that +two of the troopers from Ranjoor Singh's squadron passed the end of the +lane. He felt himself clutching at a red knife, breathing red air +through distended nostrils. He forgot his sores; forgot to feel them. + +As he hunted the two troopers through the maze of streets, he +recognized them for two of the men who had thrashed him; so he drew +closer, for fear they might escape him in the crowd. Now that he no +longer wandered objectless, but looked ahead and walked with a will and +a purpose, street-corner "constabeels" ceased to trouble him; there +were too many people in those thronged, kaleidoscopic streets for any +but the loafers to be noticed. He drew nearer and nearer to the +troopers, all unsuspected. + +But the pace was fast, and they approached their barracks, where his +chance of ramming a knife into them and getting away unseen would be +increasingly more remote; and he had no desire to die until he had +killed the other four men, Ranjoor Singh himself, and the woman who had +spurned his love. He must kill these two, he decided, while yet safe +from barrack hue and cry. + +He crept yet closer, and--now that his plan was forming in his +mind-began to see less red. In a minute more he recognized a house at a +street corner, whose lower story once had been a shop, but that now was +boarded up and showed from outside little sign of occupation. But he +saw that the door at the end of an alley by the building was ajar, and +through a chink between the shutters of an upper story his keen +northern eyes detected lamp-light. That was enough. He set his teeth +and drew his long clean knife. + +Wounds, bruises, pain, all mean nothing to a hillman when there is +murder in his eye, unless they be spurs that goad him to greater frenzy +and more speed. The troopers swaggered at a drilled man's marching +pace; the Afridi came like a wind--devil, ripping down a gully from the +northern hills, all frenzy. + +Had he not seen red again, had only a little brain--work mingled in his +rage, he would have scored a clean victory and have been free to wreak +red vengeance on the rest. As it was, rage mastered him, and he yelled +as he drove the long knife home between the shoulders of one of the +troopers in front of him. + +That yell was a mistake, for he was dealing with picked, drilled men of +birth and a certain education. The struck man sank to his knees, but +the other turned in time to guard the next blow with his forearm; he +seized a good fistful of the Afridi's bandages and landed hard on his +naked foot with the heel of an ammunition boot. The Afridi screamed +like a wild beast as he wrenched himself away, leaving the bandages in +the trooper's hand; and for an instant the trooper half turned to +succor his comrade. + +"Nay, after him!" urged the wounded man in the Jat tongue; and, seeing +a crowd come running from four directions, the Sikh let him lie, to +race after the Afridi. + +He caught little more than a glimpse of torn clothes disappearing +through the little door at the end of the alley by the boarded shop, +and a second after he had started in pursuit he saw the door shut with +a slam and thought he heard a bolt snick home. + +The door, though small, looked stout, and, thinking as he charged to +the assault, the Sikh put all the advantage he had of weight, and +steel-shod boots, and strength, and speed into the effort. A yard from +the door he took off, as a man does at the broad jump in the +inter-regimental sports, landing against the lower panel with his heels +two feet from the bottom. + +The door went inward as if struck by a blast of dynamite, and the +Sikh's head struck a flagstone. Long strong arms seized him by the feet +and dragged him inside. Then the door closed again, and this time a +bolt really did shoot home, to be followed by two others and a bar that +fitted vertically into the beam above and the floor beneath. + +Outside, thirty feet from the street corner, the crowd came together as +a tide-race meets amid the rocks, roaring, shouting, surging, swaying +back and forth, nine-tenths questioning at the limit of its lungs, and +one-tenth yelling information that was false before they had it. Those +at the back believed already that there were ten men down. In the next +street there was supposed to be a riot. And the shrill repeated whistle +of the nearest policeman summoning help confirmed the crowd in its +belief, besides convincing it of new atrocities as yet unguessed. + +Only one man in the crowd had wit enough to carry the tale to barracks +where it might be expected to produce action. He was a Bengali babu, +bare of leg and fat of paunch, who had enough imagination to conceive +of a regiment in receipt of the news, and the mental picture so +appealed to him that he held his protruding stomach in both hands while +he ran down-street like a landslide, his mouth agape and his eyes all +but popping from his head. + +He reached the barrack gate speechless and breathless, just as Ranjoor +Singh rode up on Bagh, mud-plastered after an afternoon's work teaching +scouts. He clung to the risaldar-major's stirrup, and was dragged ten +feet, slobbering and bubbling incoherencies, before the savage charger +could be reined in and made to stand. + +"What is it, oh, _babuji?_" laughed Ranjoor Singh. "Are the Moslems out +after your temple gods?" + +"Aha! Run! Gallop! Bring all the guns!" This in English, all of it. +"Blood in the gutter--blood like water--twentee policemen are already +dead, and your men have done it! Gallop quicklee. _Jaldee, jaldee!_" + +"Go and get twenty more policemen to wipe away the blood!" advised +Ranjoor Singh, sitting back in the saddle to get a better look at him, +and reining back the impatient Bagh. "I am not a constabeel; I am a +soldier." + +"Aha! Yes. You better hurry. All your men are +underneath--what-you-call-it?--bottom dog. You better hurry like +slippery! One Afridi is beginning things, and where is one Afridi with +a long knife are many more kinds of trouble!" + +The babu was recovering his breath, and with it his yearning to behold +a regiment careering through the barrack gate to the rescue. He still +clung to the stirrup, and since he would not let go, Ranjoor Singh +proceeded to tow him, with a cautious, booted right leg ready to spur +Bagh away to the left should the brute commence to kick. + +"You are hard-hearted person, and your fate is forever sealed if you +refuse to listen!" wailed the babu. "The blood of your men lies in +street calling aloud for vengeance!" A university education works +wonders for babu vocabulary. "I tell you it is a riot, and most +extremelee serious affair!" + +That was the wrong appeal to make, as the babu himself would have known +had he been less excited. In time of riot the place for a Sikh officer +would be at the regiment's headquarters, in readiness for the order +from a civil magistrate without which interference would cost him his +commission. But the babu was beside himself, what with breathlessness +and disappointment. He decided it was expedient to strengthen his +appeal, and his imagination was still working. + +"There will be two regiments of Tommees--drunken Tommees, presentlee. +They will take your men to jail. The Tommees are already on the way. +Should they get there first your men will be everlastinglee disgraced +as well as muleted. You should hurry." + +Ranjoor Singh ceased from frowning and looked satisfied. If there were +trouble enough in the bazaar to call for the despatch of British +soldiers to the scene, then nothing in the world was more certain than +that any men of his who happened to be in danger would be rescued with +neatness and speed. If there was no trouble yet, there would very +likely be some swearing when the soldiers got there. In the meantime he +was wet through, both with rain and perspiration. The thought of a bath +and dry clothes urged him like the voice of a siren calling; and he had +shown the babu all the courtesy his Sikh creed and profession demanded. + +So he clucked to Bagh, and the big brute plunged into a canter, just as +eager for his sais and gram as his master was for clean dry clothes. +For two strides the babu clung to the stirrup, wrenching it free from +the risaldar-major's foot; then the horse grew savage at the +unaccustomed extra weight, and lashed out hard behind him, missing the +babu twice in quick succession, but filling him full to the stuttering +teeth with fear. Ranjoor Singh touched the horse with his right spur, +and in a second the babu lay along on his stomach in the mud. + +He lay for a minute, believing himself dead. Then he cried aloud, since +he knew he must be broken into pieces. Then he felt himself. At last he +rose, and after a speechless glance at the back of the risaldar-major, +started slowly along the street toward where the "riot" was. + +"It is enough," he said in English, since he was a "failed B.A.," "to +try the patience of Job's comforter. This militaree business has +corrupted even Sikh cavalry until they no longer are dependable. Yes. +It is time! It is time indeed that German influence be felt, in order +that British yoke may be cast off for good and all. Now I take it a +German soldier would have arrested everybodee, and I would have +received much _kudos_ in addition to cash reward paid for information. +In meantime, it is to be seen whether or not--yes, precisely--a pencil +is mightier than a sword, which means that a babu is superior in wit +and general attainments. Let us see!" + +He began to run again, at a truly astonishing pace, considering his +paunch and all-round ungainliness, getting over the ground faster than +many a thin man could have done. As he ran his lips worked, for though +he had no breath to spare for speech, his brain was forming words that +crowded for expression. + +"The Sikhs!" he screamed, as he came within earshot of the milling +crowd, through which four small policemen were trying to force a path. +"The Sikhs! They ride to the rescue!" + +"The Sikhs!" yelled somebody on the edge of the crowd, who had more +breath but not enough imagination to ask questions. "The Sikhs are +coming! Run!" + +"The Sikhs! The Sikhs!" + +The crowd took it up. And since it was a crowd, and there was nothing +else to do; and since it had had protection but no violence at Sikh +hands ever since '57; and since the babu really did look frightened, it +shouted that the Sikhs were coming until it believed the news and had +made itself thoroughly afraid. + +"Run, brothers!" shouted some man in the middle who owned a voice like +a bull-buffalo's. And that being a new idea and just as good as any, +the whole crowd took to its heels, leaving the four policemen staring +at the body of a dead Sikh, and the fat babu complacently regarding all +of them. + +Presently a European police officer trotted up on a white pony, +examined the body, asked a dozen questions of the four policemen, wrote +in his memorandum book, and ordered the body to be taken to the morgue. + +"Come here, you!" he called to the babu. + +So the babu waddled to him, judging his salaam shrewdly so that it +suggested deference while leaving no doubt as to the intended insult. + +"What do you know about this?" + +"As peaceful citizen in pursuance of daily bread and other perquisites, +I claim protection of police! While proceeding on way was thrown to +ground violentlee by galloping horse whose rider urged same in opposite +direction. Observe my deshabille. Regard this mud on my person. I +insist on full rigor of the law for which I am taxed inordinately." + +"What sort of a horse? Who rode it? How long ago?" + +"Am losing all count of time since being overwhelmed. Should say veree +recently, however. The horse was ridden by a person who urged it +vehemently. It was a brown horse, I think." + +"Which way did he go?" + +"How should I know? He went away, knocking me over in transit and +causing me great distress." + +"Was he armed?" + +"Two arms. With one he steered the animal. With the other he urged him, +thus." + +The babu described in pantomime an imaginary human riding for his life, +whom not even the adroitest police officer could recognize as Ranjoor +Singh, even had he been acquainted with the risaldar-major. + +"Had he a weapon of any kind?" + +"Not knowing, would prefer to say nothing about that. It was with the +horse--with the rump of the animal that he hit me, and not with a sword +of any kind." + +"Well, you had better come with me to the office, and there we'll take +down your deposition." + +"Am I arrested?" + +"No. You're a witness." + +"On the contrary, I am prosecutor! I demand as stated formerly full +rigor of the law. I demand capture and arrest, together with fine and +imprisonment of party assaulting me, failing which I shall address +complaint to government!" + +"Come along. We'll talk about that at the office." + +So the babu was escorted to the stuffy little police office, where he +was made to sit on a bench beside ten native witnesses of other crimes; +and presently he was called to a desk at which a native clerk presided. +There he was made to recite his story again, and since he had had time +in which to think, he told a most amazing, disconnected yarn that +looked even more untruthful by the time the clerk had written his own +version of it on a sheet. To this version the babu was required to +swear, and he did so without a blink. + +Then there was more delay, while somebody was found who knew him and +could certify to his address, and it was nearly evening by the time he +was allowed to go. + + * * * * * + +It was also nearly evening when a messenger arrived at the barracks to +report the death of a Sikh trooper by murder in the bazaar. The man's +name and regimental number proved him to have been one of D Squadron's +men, and since its commander, Ranjoor Singh, was then in quarters, the +news was brought to him at once. + +"Killed where?" he demanded; so they told him. + +"Exactly when?" + +It became evident to Ranjoor Singh that there had been some truth after +all in the babu's tale. The verbal precis of the only witness, given +from memory, about a man who galloped away on horseback, threw no light +at all on the case; so, because he could think of nothing better to do +at the moment, the risaldar-major sent for a _tikka-gharri_ and drove +down to the morgue to identify the body. + +On the way back from the morgue he looked in at the police station, but +the babu had been gone some ten minutes when he arrived. + +The police could tell him nothing. It was explained that the crowd +directly after the murder had been too great to allow any but those +nearest to see anything; and it was admitted that the crowd had been +suddenly panic-stricken and had scattered before the police could +secure witnesses. So he drove away, wondering, and ordered the driver +to follow the road taken by the murdered trooper. + +It was just on the edge of evening, when the lighted street-lamps were +yet too pale to show distinctly, that he passed the disused boarded +shop and saw, on the side of the street opposite, the babu who had +brought him the story of riot that afternoon. He stopped his carriage +and stepped out. On second thought he ordered the carriage away, for he +was in plain clothes and not likely to attract notice; and he had a +suspicion in his mind that he might care to investigate a little on his +own account. He walked straight to the babu, and that gentleman eyed +him with obvious distrust. + +"Did you see my trooper murdered?" he demanded; for he had learned +directness under Colonel Kirby, and applied it to every difficulty that +confronted him. + +Natives understand directness from an Englishman, and can parry it; but +from another native it bewilders them, just as a left-handed swordsman +is bewildered by another left-hander. The babu blinked. + +"How much had you seen when you ran to warn me this afternoon?" + +The babu looked pitiful. His fat defenseless body was an absolute +contrast to the Sikh's tall manly figure. His eye was furtive, glancing +ever sidewise; but the Sikh looked straight and spoke abruptly though +with a note of kindness in his voice. + +"There is no need to fear me," he said, since the babu would not +answer. "Speak! How much do you know?" + +So the babu took heart of grace, producing a voice from somewhere down +in his enormous stomach and saying, of course, the very last thing +expected of him. + +"Grief chokes me!" he asserted. + +"Take care that I choke thee not, _babuji_! I have asked a question. I +am no lawyer to maneuver for my answer. Did you see that trooper +killed?" + +The babu nodded; but his nod was not much more than tentative. He could +have denied it next minute without calling much on his imagination. + +"Oh! Which way went the murderer?" + +"Grief overwhelms me!" said the babu. + +"Grief for what?" + +"For my money--my good money--my emoluments!" + +Direct as an arrow though he was in all his dealings, Ranjoor Singh had +not forgotten how the Old East thinks. He recognized the preliminaries +of a bargain, and searched his mind to recall how much money he had +with him; to have searched his pocket would have been too puerile. + +"What of them?" + +"Lost!" + +"Where? How?" + +"While standing here, observing movements of him whom I suspected to be +murderer, a person unknown--possibly a Sikh--perhaps not--removed money +surreptitiously from my person." + +"How much money?" + +"Rupees twenty-five, annas eight," said the babu unwinking. He neither +blushed nor hesitated. + +"I will take compassion on your loss and replace five rupees of it," +said Ranjoor Singh, "when you have told me which way the murderer went." + +"My eyes are too dim, and my heart too full with grief," said the babu. +"No man's memory works under such conditions. Now, that money--" + +"I will give you ten rupees," said Ranjoor Singh. + +This was too easy! The babu was prepared to bargain for an hour, +fighting for rupee after rupee until his wit assured him he had reached +the limit. Now he began to believe he had set the limit far too low. + +"I do not remember," he said slowly but with great conviction, +scratching at his stomach as if he kept his recollections stored there. + +"You said twenty-five rupees, eight annas? Well, I will pay the half of +it, and no more," said Ranjoor Singh in a new voice that seemed to +suggest unutterable things. "Moreover, I will pay it when I have proved +thy memory true. Now, scratch that belly of thine and let the thoughts +come forth!" + +"Nay, sahib, I forget." + +Ranjoor Singh drew out his purse and counted twelve rupees and three +quarters into the palm of his hand. + +"Which way?" he demanded. + +"Twenty-five rupees, eight annas of earned emolument--gone while I +watched the movements of a murderer! It is not easy to keep brave heart +and remember things!" + +"See here, thou bellyful of memories! Remember and tell me, or I return +this money to my purse and march thee by the nape of thy fat neck to +the police station, where they will put thee in a cell for the night +and jog thy memory in ways the police are said to understand! Speak! +Here, take the money!" + +The babu reached out a fat hand and the silver changed owners. + +"There!" said the babu, jerking a thumb over his right shoulder. +"Through that door!" + +"That narrow teak door, down the passage?" + +But the babu was gone, hurrying as if goaded by fear of hell and all +its angels. + +Ranjoor Singh strode across the street in a bee-line and entered the +dark passage. He had seen the yellow light of a lamp-flame through a +chink in an upper shutter, and he intended to try directness on the +problem once again. It was ten full paces down the passage to the door; +he counted them, finishing the last one with a kick against the panel +that would have driven it in had it been less than teak. + +There came no answer, so he kicked again. Then he beat on the door with +his clenched fists. Presently he turned his back to the door and kept +up a steady thunder on it with his heels. And then, after about five +minutes, he heard movement within. + +He congratulated himself then that the noise he had made had called the +attention of passers-by and of all the neighbors, and though he had had +no fear and no other intention than to enter the house at all costs, he +certainly had that much less compunction now. + +He heard three different bolts drawn back, and then there was a pause. +He thought he heard whispering, so he resumed his thunder. Almost at +once there followed the unmistakable squeak of a big beam turning on +its pivot, and the door opened about an inch. + +He pushed, but some one inside pushed harder, and the door closed +again. So Ranjoor Singh leaned all his weight and strength against the +door, drawing in his breath and shoving with all his might. Resistance +ceased. The door flew inward, as it had done once before that day, and +closed with a bang behind him. + + + Long were the days and oh! wicked the weather-- + Endless and thankless the round-- + Grinding God's Grit into rookies together; + I was the upper stone, he was the nether, + And Gad, sir, they groaned as we ground! + Bitter the blame (but he helped me to bear it), + Grim the despair that we ate! + But hell's loose! The dam's down, and none can repair it! + 'Tis our turn! Go, summon my brother to share it! + His squadron's at arms, and we wait! + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +A regiment is more exacting of its colonel than ever was lady of her +lord; the more truly he commands, the better it loves him, until at +last the regiment swallows him and he becomes part of it, in thought +and word and deed. Distractions such as polo, pig-sticking, +tiger-shooting are tolerable insofar as they steady his nerve and train +his hand and eye; to that extent they, too, subserve the regiment. But +a woman is a rival. So it is counted no sin against a cavalry colonel +should he be a bachelor. + +There remained no virtue, then, in the eyes of Outram's Own for Colonel +Kirby to acquire; he had all that they could imagine, besides at least +a dozen they had not imagined before he came to them. There was not one +black-bearded gentleman who couched a lance behind him but believed +Colonel Kirby some sort of super-man; and, in return, Colonel Kirby +found the regiment so satisfying that there was not even a lady on the +sky-line who could look forward to encroaching on the regiment's +preserves. + +His heart, his honor, and his rare ability were all the regiment's, and +the regiment knew it; so he was studied as is the lot of few. His +servant knew which shoes he would wear on a Thursday morning, and would +have them ready; the mess-cook spiced the curry so exactly to his taste +that more than one cook-book claimed it to be a species apart and +labeled it with his name. If he frowned, the troopers knew somebody had +tried to flatter him; if he smiled, the regiment grinned; and when his +face lacked all expression, though his eyes were more than usually +quick, officer, non-commissioned officer and man alike would sit tight +in the saddle, so to speak, and gather up their reins. + +His mood was recognized that afternoon as he drove back from the club +while he was yet four hundred yards away, although twilight was closing +down. The waler mare--sixteen three and a half, with one white stocking +and a blaze that could be seen from the sky-line--brought his big +dog-cart through the street mud at a speed which would have insured the +arrest of the driver of a motor; but that, if anything, was a sign of +ordinary health. + +Nor was the way he took the corner by the barrack gate, on one wheel, +any criterion; he always did it, just as he never failed to acknowledge +the sentry's salute by raising his whip. It needed the observant eyes +of Outram's Own to detect the rather strained calmness and the almost +inhumanly active eye. + +"Beware!" called the sentry, while he was yet three hundred yards away. +"Be awake!" + +"Be awake! Be awake! Beware!" + +The warning went from lip to lip, troop to troop, from squadron stables +on to squadron stables, until six hundred men were ready for all +contingencies. A civilian might not have recognized the difference, but +Kirby's soldier servant awakened from his nap on the colonel's door-mat +and straightened his turban in a hurry, perfectly well aware that there +was something in the wind. + +It was too early to dress for dinner yet; too late to dress for games +of any kind. The servant was nonplussed. He stood in silence, awaiting +orders that under ordinary circumstances, or at an ordinary hour, would +have been unnecessary. But for a while no orders came. The only sound +in those extremely unmarried quarters was the steady drip of water into +a flat tin bath that the servant had put beneath a spot where the roof +leaked; the rain had ceased but the ceiling cloth still drooped and +drooled. + +Suddenly Kirby threw himself backward into a long chair, and the +servant made ready for swift action. + +"Present my compliments to Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh sahib, and ask +him to be good enough to see me here." + +The servant saluted and was gone. Kirby relapsed again into the depth +of the chair, staring at the wall in front of him, letting his eye +travel from one to another of the accurately spaced-out pictures, +pieces of furniture and trophies that proclaimed him unmarried. There +was nothing whatever in his quarters to decoy him from his love. There +were polo sticks in a corner where a woman would have placed a standard +lamp, and where the flowers should have stood was a chest to hold +horse-medicines. There was a vague smell about the place of varnish, +polish and good leather. + +The servant was back again, stiff at the salute, within five minutes. + +"_Ne hai_." + +"Not there? Not where? Not in his quarters? Then go and find him. Ask +where he is. Hurry!" + +So, since the regiment was keyed to watchfulness, it took about five +minutes more before it was known that Ranjoor Singh was not in +barracks. The servant returned to report that he had been seen driving +toward the bazaar in a _tikka-gharri_. + +Then entered Warrington, the adjutant, and the servant was dismissed at +once. + +"Bad business," said Warrington, looking thoroughly cheerful. + +"What now?" + +"One of Squadron D's men murdered in the bazaar this afternoon. Body's +in the morgue in charge of the police. 'Nother man who was with him +apparently missing. No explanation, and the p'lice say there aren't any +clues." + +He twisted at a little black mustache and began to hum. + +"Know where Ranjoor Singh is by any chance?" asked Kirby. + +"Give me three guesses--no, two. One--he's raising hell with all the +police in Delhi. Two--he's at the scene of the murder, doing detective +work on his own. I heard he'd driven away--and, anyhow, it's his +squadron. Man's probably his second cousin, twenty or thirty times +removed." + +"Send somebody to find him!" ordered Kirby. + +"Say you want to have a word with him?" + +Kirby nodded, and Warrington swaggered out, humming to himself exactly +as he hoped to be humming when his last grim call should come, the +incarnation of efficiency, awake and very glad. A certain number of +seconds after he had gone two mounted troopers clattered out toward the +bazaar. Ten minutes later Warrington returned. + +"D Squadron's squattin' on its hunkers in rings an' lookin' gloomy," he +said, as if he were announcing some good news that had a touch of humor +in it. "By the look of 'em you'd say they'd been passed over for active +service and were meditatin' matrimony." + +"By gad, Warrington! You don't know how near that guess is to the +truth!" + +Kirby's lips were smiling, but his voice was hard. Warrington glanced +quickly at him once and then looked serious. + +"You mean--" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"Has it broken yet?" + +"No." + +"Is it goin' to break?" + +"Looks like it. Looks to me as if it's all been prearranged. Our crowd +are sparring for time, and the Prussians are all in a hurry. Looks that +way to me." + +"And you mean--there's a chance--even a chance of us--of Outram's Own +bein' out of it? Beg your pardon, sir, but are you serious?" + +"Yes," said Kirby, and Warrington's jaw fell. + +"Any details that are not too confidential for me to know?" asked +Warrington. + +"Tell you all about it after I've had a word with Ranjoor Singh." + +"Hadn't I better go and help look for him?" + +"Yes, if you like." + +So, within another certain number of split seconds, Captain Charlie +Warrington rode, as the French say, belly-to-the-earth, and the fact +that the monsoon chose that instant to let pour another Noah's deluge +seemed to make no difference at all to his ardor or the pace to which +he spurred his horse. + +An angry police officer grumbled that night at the club about the +arrogance of all cavalrymen, but of one Warrington in particular. + +"Wanted to know, by the Big Blue Bull of Bashan, whether I knew when a +case was serious or not! Yes, he did! Seemed to think the murder of one +sowar was the only criminal case in all Delhi, and had the nerve to +invite me to set every constable in what he termed my parish on the one +job. What did I say? Told him to call to-morrow, of course--said I'd +see. Gad! You should have heard him swear then--thought his eyes 'ud +burn holes in my tunic. Went careering out of the office as if war had +been declared." + +"Talking of war," said somebody, nursing a long drink under the +swinging punkah, "do you suppose--" + +So the manners of India's pet cavalry were forgotten at once in the +vortex of the only topic that had interest for any one in clubdom, and +it was not noticed whether Warrington or his colonel, or any other +officer of native cavalry looked in at the club that night. + + * * * * * + +Warrington rode into the rain at the same speed at which he had +galloped to the police station, overhauled one of the mounted troopers +whom he himself had sent in search of Ranjoor Singh, rated him soundly +in Punjabi for loafing on the way, and galloped on with the troop-horse +laboring in his wake. He reined in abreast of the second trooper, who +had halted by a cross-street and was trying to appear to enjoy the +deluge. + +"Any word?" asked Warrington. + +"I spoke with two who said he entered by that door-that small door down +the passage, sahib, where there is no light. It is a teak door, bolted +and with no keyhole on the outside." + +"Good for you," said Warrington, glancing quickly up and down the wet +street, where the lamps gleamed deceptively in pools of running water. +There seemed nobody in sight; but that is a bold guess in Delhi, where +the shadows all have eyes. + +He gave a quiet order, and trooper number one passed his reins to +number two. + +"Go and try that door. Kick it in if you can--but be quick, and try not +to be noisy!" + +The trooper swung out of the saddle and obeyed, while Warrington and +the other man faced back to back, watching each way against surprise. +In India, as in lands less "civilized," the cavalry are not allowed to +usurp the functions of police, and the officer or man who tries it does +so at his own risk. There came a sound of sudden thundering on teak +that ceased after two minutes. + +"The door is stout. There is no answer from within," said the trooper. + +"Then wait here on foot," commanded Warrington. "Get under cover and +watch. Stay here until you're relieved, unless something particularly +worth reporting happens; in that case, hurry and report. For +instance"--he hesitated, trying to imagine something out of the +unimaginable--"suppose the risaldar-major were to come out, then give +him the message and come home with him. But--oh, suppose the place +takes fire, or there's a riot, or you hear a fight going on +inside--then hurry to barracks--understand?" + +The wet trooper nodded and saluted. + +"Get into a shadow, then, and keep as dry as you can," ordered +Warrington. "Come on!" he called to the other man. + +And a second later he was charging through the street as if he rode +with despatches through a zone of rifle fire. Behind him clattered a +rain-soaked trooper and two horses. + +Colonel Kirby stepped out of his bathroom just as Warrington arrived, +and arranged his white dress-tie before the sitting-room mirror. + +"Looks fishy to me, sir," said Warrington, hurrying in and standing +where the rain from his wet clothes would do least harm. + +There was a space on the floor between two tiger-skins where the +matting was a little threadbare. Messengers, orderlies or servants +always stood on that spot. After a moment, however, Kirby's servant +brought Warrington a bathroom mat. + +"How d'ye mean?" + +Warrington explained. + +"What did the police say?" + +"Said they were busy." + +"Now, I could go to the club," mused Kirby, "and see Hetherington, and +have a talk with him, and get him to sign a search-warrant. Armed with +that, we could--" + +"Perhaps persuade a police officer to send two constables with it +to-morrow morning!" said Warrington, with a grin. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"And if we do much on our own account we'll fall foul of the Indian +Penal Code, which altereth every week," said Warrington. + +"If it weren't for the fact that I particularly want a word with him," +said Kirby, giving a last tweak to his tie and reaching out for his +mess-jacket that the servant had laid on a chair, "there'd not be much +ground that I can see for action of any kind. He has a right to go +where he likes." + +That point of view did not seem to have occurred to Warrington before; +nor did he quite like it, for he frowned. + +"On the other hand," said Kirby, diving into his mess-jacket and +shrugging his neat shoulders until they fitted into it as a charger +fits into his skin, "under the circumstances--and taking into +consideration certain private information that has reached me--if I +were supposed to be behind a bolted door in the bazaar, I'd rather +appreciate it if Ranjoor Singh, for instance, were to--ah--take action +of some kind." + +"Exactly, sir." + +"Hallo--what's that?" + + * * * * * + +A motor-car, driven at racing speed, thundered up the lane between the +old stacked cannon and came to a panting standstill by the colonel's +outer door. A gruff question was answered gruffly, and a man's step +sounded on the veranda. Then the servant flung the door wide, and a +British soldier stepped smartly into the room, saluted and held out a +telegram. + +Kirby tore it open. His eyes blazed, but his hands were steady. The +soldier held out a receipt book and a pencil, and Kirby took time to +scribble his initials in the proper place. Warrington, humming to +himself, began to squeeze the rain out of his tunic to hide impatience. +The soldier saluted, faced about and hurried to the waiting car. Then +Kirby read the telegram. He nodded to Warrington. Warrington, his +finger-ends pressed tight into his palms and his forearms quivering, +raised one eyebrow. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"War, sir?" + +"War." + +"We're under orders?" + +"Not yet. It says, 'War likely to be general. Be ready.' Here, read it +for yourself." + +"They wouldn't have sent us that if--" + +"Addressed to O.C. troops. They had those ready written out and sent +one to every O.C. on the list the second they knew." + +"Well, sir?" + +"Leave the room, Lal Singh!" + +The servant, who was screwing up his courage to edge nearer, did as he +was told. + +Kirby stood still, facing the mirror, with both arms behind him. + +"They're certain to send native Indian troops to Europe," he said. + +"We're ready, sir! We're ready to a shoe-string! We'll go first!" + +"We'll be last, Warrington, supposing we go at all, unless we find +Ranjoor Singh! They'll send us to do police work in Bengal, or to guard +the Bombay docks and watch the other fellows go. I'm going to the club. +You'd better come with me. Hurry into dry clothes." He glanced at the +clock. "We'll just have time to drive past the house where you say he's +supposed to be, if you hurry." + +The last three words were lost, for Captain Warrington had turned into +a thunderbolt and disappeared; the noise of his going was as when a +sudden windstorm slams all the doors at once. A moment later he could +be heard shouting from outside his quarters to his servant to be ready +for him. + +He certainly bathed, for the noise of the tub overturning when he was +done with it was unmistakable. And eight minutes after his departure he +was back again, dressed, cloaked and ready. + +"Got your pistol, sir?" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"Thought I'd bring mine along. You never know, you know." + +Together they climbed into the colonel's dog-cart, well smothered under +waterproofs. Kirby touched up another of his road-devouring walers, the +sais grabbed at the back seat and jumped for his life, and they shot +out of the compound, down the line of useless cannon and out into the +street, taking the corner as the honor of the regiment required. Then +the two big side-lamps sent their shafts of light straight down the +metaled, muddy road, and the horse settled down between them to do his +equine "demdest"; there was a touch on the reins he recognized. + + * * * * * + +They reached the edge of the bazaar to find the crowd stirring, +although strangely mute. + +"They'll have got the news in an hour from now," said Kirby. "They can +smell it already." + +"Wonder how much truth there is in all this talk about German merchants +and propaganda." + +"_H-rrrrr-ummm_!" said Kirby. + +"Steady, sir! Lookout!" + +The near wheel missed a native woman by a fraction of an inch, and her +shrill scream followed them. But Kirby kept his eyes ahead, and the +shadows continued to flash by them in a swift procession until +Warrington leaned forward, and then Kirby leaned back against the reins. + +"There he is, sir!" + +They reined to a halt, and a drenched trooper jumped up behind to kneel +on the back seat and speak in whispers. + +"No sign of him at all?" asked Kirby. + +"No, sahib. But there has been a light behind a shutter above there. It +comes and goes. They light it and extinguish it." + +"Has anybody come out of that door?" + +"No, sahib." + +"None gone in?" + +"None." + +"Any other door to the place?" + +"There may be a dozen, sahib. That is an old house, and it backs up +against six others." + +"What we suffer from in this country is information," said Warrington, +beginning to hum to himself. + +But Kirby signed to the trooper, and the man began to scramble out of +the cart. + +"Between now and our return, report to the club if anything happens," +called Warrington. + +The whip swished, the horse shot forward, and they were off again as if +they would catch up with the hurrying seconds. People scattered to the +right and left in front of them; a constable at a street crossing blew +his whistle frantically; once the horse slipped in a deep puddle, and +all but came to earth; but they reached the club without mishap and +drove up the winding drive at a speed more in keeping with convention. + +"Oh, hallo, Kirby! Glad you've come!" said a voice. + +"Evening, sir!" + +Kirby descended, almost into the arms of a general in evening dress. +They walked into the club together, leaving the adjutant wondering what +to do. He decided to follow them at a decent distance, still humming +and looking happy enough for six men. + +"You'll be among the first," said the general. "Are you ready, +Kirby--absolutely ready?" + +"Yes," + +"The wires are working to the limit. It isn't settled yet whether +troops go from here via Canada or the Red Sea--probably won't be until +the Navy's had a chance to clear the road. All that's known--yet--is +that Belgium's invaded, and that every living man Jack who can be +hurried to the front in time to keep the Germans out of Paris will be +sent. Hold yourself ready to entrain any minute, Kirby." + +"Is martial law proclaimed yet?" asked Kirby in a voice that the +general seemed to think was strained, for he looked around sharply. + +"Not yet. Why?" + +"Information, sir. Anything else?" + +"No. Good night." + +"Good night, sir." + +Kirby nearly ran into Warrington as he hurried back toward the door. + +"Find a police officer!" he ordered. + +"They all passed you a minute ago, sir," answered Warrington. "They're +headed for police headquarters. Heard one of 'em say so." + +Kirby pulled himself together. A stranger would not have noticed that +he needed it, but Warrington at his elbow saw the effort and was glad. + +"Go to police headquarters, then," he ordered. "Try to get them to +bring a dozen men and search, that house; but don't say that Ranjoor +Singh's in there." + +"Where'll I find you, sir?" + +"Barracks. Oh, by the way, we're a sure thing for the front." + +"I knew there was some reason why I kept feelin' cheerful!" said +Warrington. "The risaldar-major looks like gettin' left." + +"Unless," said Kirby, "you can get the police to act to-night--or +unless martial law's proclaimed at once, and I can think of an excuse +to search the house with a hundred men myself. Find somebody to give +you a lift. So long." + +Kirby swung into his dog-cart, the sais did an acrobatic turn behind, +and again the horse proceeded to lower records. Zigzag-wise, through +streets that were growing more and yet more thronged instead of silent, +they tore barrackward, missing men by a miracle every twelve yards. +Kirby's eyes were on a red blotch, now, that danced and glowed above +the bazaar a mile ahead. It reminded him of pain. + +Presently the horse sniffed smoke, and notified as much before settling +down into his stride again. The din of hoarse excitement reached +Kirby's ears, and in a moment more a khaki figure leaped out of a +shadow and a panting trooper snatched at the back seat, was grabbed by +the sais, and swung up in the rear. + +"Sahib--" + +"All right. I know," said Kirby, though he did not know how he knew. + +They raced through another dozen streets until the glare grew blinding +and the smoke nearly choked him. Then they were stopped entirely by the +crowd, and Colonel Kirby sat motionless; for he had a nearly perfect +view of a holocaust. The house in which Ranjoor Singh was supposed to +be was so far burned that little more than the walls was standing. + + + The North Wind hails from the Northern snows, + (His voice is loud--oh, listen ye!) + He cried of death--the death he knows-- + Of the mountain death. (Oh, listen ye!) + Who looks to the North for love looks long! + Who goes to the North for gain goes wrong! + Men's hearts are hard, and the goods belong + To the strong in the North! (Oh, listen ye!) + Whose lot is fair--who loves his life-- + Walks wide, stays wide of the Northern knife! + (Ye men o' the world, oh, listen ye!) + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +There were police and to spare now, nor any doubt of it. Even the +breath of war's beginning could not keep them elsewhere when a fire had +charge in the densest quarters of the danger zone. The din of ancient +Delhi roared skyward, and the Delhi crowd surged and fought to be +nearer to the flame; but the police already had a cordon around the +building, and another detachment was forcing the swarms of men and +women into eddying movement in which something like a system developed +presently, for there began to be a clear space in which the fire +brigade could work. + +"Any bodies recovered?" asked Colonel Kirby, leaning from the seat of +his high dogcart to speak to the English fireman who stood sentry over +the water-plug. + +"No, sir. The fire had too much headway before the alarm went in. When +we got here the whole lower part was red-hot." + +"Any means of escape from the building from the rear?" + +"As many as from a rat-run, sir. That house is as old as Delhi--about; +and there are as any galleries up above connecting with houses at the +rear as there are run-holes from cellar to cellar." + +"Any chance for anybody down in the cellar?" + +"Doubt it, sir. The fire started there; the water'll do what the fire +left undone. Pretty bad trap, sir, I should say, if you asked me." + +"No reports of escape or rescue?" + +"None that I've heard tell of." + +"And the house seems doomed, eh? Be some days before they can sort the +debris over?" + +"Lucky if we save the ten houses nearest it! Look, sir! There she goes!" + +The roof fell in, sending five separate volumes of red sparks up into +the cloudy night as floor after floor collapsed beneath the weight. The +thunder of it was almost drowned in a roar of delight, for the crowd, +sensing the new spirit of its masters, was in a mood for the terrible. +Then silence fell, as if that had been an overture. + +Out of the silence and through the sea of hot humanity, the white of +his dress-shirt showing through the unbuttoned front of a military +cloak, Warrington rode a borrowed Arab pony, the pony's owner's sais +running beside him to help clear a passage. Warrington was still +humming to himself as he dismissed both sais and pony and climbed up +beside Kirby in the dog-cart. + +"If Ranjoor Singh's in that house, he's in a predicament," he said +cheerfully. "I went to police headquarters, and the first officer I +spoke to told me to go to hell. So I went into the next office, where +all the big panjandrums hide--and some of the little ones--and they +told me what you know, sir, that the house is in flames and every +policeman who can be spared is on the job, so I came to see. If Ranjoor +Singh's in there--but I don't believe he is!" + +"Why don't you?" + +"I don't believe the Lord 'ud send us active service--not a real red +war against a real enemy--and play a low-down trick on Ranjoor Singh. +Ranjoor Singh's a gentleman. It wouldn't be sportsmanlike to let him +die before the game begins." + +For a minute or two they watched the sparks go up and the crowd +striking at the rats that still seemed to find some place of exit. + +"There's a place below there that isn't red--hot yet," said Kirby. +"Those rats are not cooked through. Did you tell the police that you +wanted a search warrant?" + +"Yes. Might as well argue with an ant-heap. All of 'em too busy tryin' +for commissions in the Volunteers to listen. They've got it all cut an' +dried--somebody in the basement upset a lamp, according to them--nobody +up-stairs--nobody to turn in the alarm until the fire had complete +charge! They offer to prove it when the fire's out and they can sort +the ashes." + +"Um-m-m! Tell 'em a trooper of ours saw a light there?" + +"Yes." + +"What did they say?" + +"'Doubtless the lamp that was kicked over!'" + +Colonel Kirby clucked to his horse and worked a way out to the edge of +the crowd with the skill of one whose business is to handle men in +quantity. Then he shot like a dart up side streets and made for +barracks by a detour. + +"Gad!" said Warrington suddenly. + +"Who's told 'em d'you suppose?" + +"Dunno, sir. News leaks in Delhi like water from a lump of ice." + +In the darkness of the barrack wall there were more than a thousand +men, women and children, many of them Sikhs, who clamored to be told +things, and by the gate was a guard of twenty men drawn up to keep the +crowd at bay. The shrill voices of the women drowned the answers of the +native officer as well as the noise of the approaching wheels, and the +guard had to advance into the road to clear a way for its colonel. + +The native officer saluted and grinned. + +"Is it true, sahib?" he shouted, and Kirby raised his whip in the +affirmative. From that instant the guard began to make more noise than +the crowd beyond the wall. + +Kirby whipped his horse and took the drive that led to his quarters at +a speed there was no overhauling. He wanted to be alone. But his senior +major had forestalled him and was waiting by his outer door. + +"Oh, hallo, Brammle. Yes, come in." + +"Is it peace, Jehu?" asked Brammle. + +"War. We'll be the first to go. No, no route yet--likely to get it any +minute." + +"I'll bet, then. Bet you it's Bombay--a P. and O.--Red Sea and +Marseilles! Oh, who wouldn't be light cavalry? First-class all the way, +first aboard, and first crack at 'em! Any orders, sir?" + +"Yes. Take charge. I'm going out, and Warrington's going with me. Don't +know how long we'll be gone. If anybody asks for me, tell him I'll be +back soon. Tell the men." + +"Somebody's told 'em--listen!" + +"Tell 'em that whoever misbehaves from now forward will be left behind. +Give 'em my definite promise on that point!" + +"Anything else, sir?" + +"No." + +"Then see you later." + +"See you later." + +The major went away, and Kirby turned to his adjutant. + +"Go and order the closed shay, Warrington. Pick a driver who won't +talk. Have some grub sent in here to me, and join me at it in half an +hour; say fifteen minutes later. I've some things to see to." + +Kirby wanted very much to be alone. The less actual contact a colonel +has with his men, and the more he has with his officers, the better--as +a rule; but it does not pay to think in the presence of either. +Officers and men alike should know him as a man-who-has-thought, a man +in whose voice is neither doubt nor hesitation. + +Thirty minutes later Warrington found him just emerging from a brown +study. + +"India's all roots-in-the-air an' dancin'!" he remarked cheerfully. +"There was a babu sittin' by the barrack gate who offers to eat a +German a day, as long as we'll catch 'em for him. He's the same man +that was tryin' for a job as clerk the other day." + +"Fat man?" + +"Very." + +"Uh-h-h! No credentials--bad hat! Send him packing?" + +"The guard did." + +Food was laid on a small table by a silent servant who had eyes in the +back of his head and ears that would have caught and analyzed the +lightest whisper; but the colonel and his adjutant ate hurriedly in +silence, and the only thing remarkable that the servant was able to +report to the regiment afterward was that both drank only water. Since +all Sikhs are supposed to be abstainers from strong drink, that was +accepted as a favorable omen. + +The shay arrived on time to the second. It was the only closed carriage +the regiment owned--a heavy C-springed landau thing, taken over from +the previous mess. The colonel peered through outer darkness at the box +seat, but the driver did not look toward him; all he could see was that +there was only one man on the box. + +"Where to?" asked Warrington. + +"The club." + +Warrington jumped in after him, and the driver sent his pair straining +at the traces as if they had a gun behind them. Three hundred yards +beyond the barrack wall Colonel Kirby knelt on the front seat and poked +the driver from behind. + +"Oh! You?" he remarked, as he recognized a native risaldar of D +Squadron. Until the novelty wears off it would disconcert any man to +discover suddenly that his coachman is a troop commander. + +"D'you know a person named Yasmini?" he asked. + +"Who does not, sahib?" + +"Drive us to her house--in a hurry!" + +The immediate answer was a plunge as the whip descended on both horses +and the heavy carriage began to sway like a boat in a beam-sea swell. +They tore through streets that were living streams of human +beings--streams that split apart to let them through and closed like +water again behind them. With his spurred heels on the front seat, +Warrington hummed softly to himself as ever, happy, so long as there +were only action. + +"I've heard India spoken of as dead," he remarked after a while. "Gad! +Look at that color against the darkness!" + +"If Ranjoor Singh is dead, I'm going to know it!" said Colonel Kirby. +"And if he isn't dead, I'm going to dig him out or know the reason why. +There's been foul play, Warrington. I happen to know that Ranjoor Singh +has been suspected in a certain quarter. Incidentally, I staked my own +reputation on his honesty this afternoon. And besides, we can't afford +to lose a wing commander such as he is on the eve of the real thing. +We've got to find him!" + +Once or twice as they flashed by a street-lamp they were recognized as +British officers, and then natives, who would have gone to some trouble +to seem insolent a few hours before, stopped to half-turn and salaam to +them. + +"Wonder how they'd like German rule for a change?" mused Warrington. + +"India doesn't often wear her heart on her sleeve," said Kirby. + +"It's there to-night!" said Warrington. "India's awake, if this is +Delhi and not a nightmare! India's makin' love to the British +soldier-man!" + +They tore through a city that is polychromatic in the daytime and by +night a dream of phantom silhouettes. But, that night, day and night +were blended in one uproar, and the Chandni Chowk was at floodtide, +wave on wave of excited human beings pouring into it from a hundred +bystreets and none pouring out again. + +So the risaldar drove across the Chandni Chowk, fighting his way with +the aid of whip and voice, and made a wide circuit through dark lanes +where groups of people argued at the corners, and sometimes a would-be +holy man preached that the end of the world had come. + + * * * * * + +They reached Yasmini's from the corner farthest from the Chandni Chowk, +and sprang out of the carriage the instant that the risaldar drew rein. + +"Wait within call!" commanded Kirby, and the risaldar raised his whip. + +Then, with his adjutant at his heels, Colonel Kirby dived through the +gloomy opening in a wall that Yasmini devised to look as little like an +approach to her--or heaven--as possible. + +"Wonder if he's brought us to the right place?" he whispered, sniffing +into the moldy darkness. + +"Dunno, sir. There're stairs to your left." + +They caught the sound of faint flute music on an upper floor, and as +Kirby felt cautiously for his footing on the lower step Warrington +began to whistle softly to himself. Next to war, an adventure of this +kind was the nearest he could imagine to sheer bliss, and it was all he +could do to contrive to keep from singing. + +The heavy teak stairs creaked under their joint weight, and though +their eyes could not penetrate the upper blackness, yet they both +suspected rather than sensed some one waiting for them at the top. + +Kirby's right hand instinctively sought a pocket in his cloak. +Warrington felt for his pistol, too. + +For thirty or more seconds--say, three steps--they went up like +conspirators, trying to move silently and holding to the rail; then the +absurdity of the situation appealed to both, and without a word said +each stepped forward like a man, so that the staircase resounded. + +They stumbled on a little landing after twenty steps, and wasted about +a minute knocking on what felt like the panels of a door; but then +Warrington peered into the gloom higher up and saw dim light. + +So they essayed a second flight of stairs, in single file as before, +and presently--when they had climbed some ten steps and had turned to +negotiate ten more that ascended at an angle--a curtain moved a little, +and the dim light changed to a sudden shaft that nearly blinded them. + +Then a heavy black curtain was drawn back on rings, and a hundred +lights, reflected in a dozen mirrors, twinkled and flashed before them +so that they could not tell which way to turn. Somewhere there was a +glassbead curtain, but there were so many mirrors that they could not +tell which was the curtain and which were its reflections. + +The curtains all parted, and from the midst of each there stepped a +little nutbrown maid, who seemed too lovely to be Indian. Even then +they could not tell which was maid and which reflections until she +spoke. + +"Will the sahibs give their names?" she asked in Hindustani; and her +voice suggested flutes. + +She smiled, and her teeth were whiter than a pipe-clayed sword-belt; +there is nothing on earth whiter than her teeth were. + +"Colonel Kirby and Captain Warrington" said Kirby. + +"Will the sahibs state their business?" + +"No!" + +"Then whom do the sahibs seek to see?" + +"Does a lady live here named Yasmini?" + +"Surely, sahib." + +"I wish to talk with her." + +A dozen little maids seemed to step back through a dozen swaying +curtains, and a second later for the life of them they could neither of +them tell through which it was that the music came and the smell of +musk and sandal-smoke. But she came back and beckoned to them, laughing +over her shoulder and holding the middle curtain apart for them to +follow. + +So, one after the other, they followed her, Kirby--as became a +seriously-minded colonel on the eve of war--feeling out of place and +foolish, but Warrington, possessed by such a feeling of curiosity as he +had never before tasted. + +The heat inside the room they entered was oppressive, in spite of a +great open window at which sat a dozen maids, and of the punkahs +swinging overhead, so Kirby undid his cloak and walked revealed, a +soldier in mess dress. + +"Look at innocence aware of itself!" whispered Warrington. + +"Shut up!" commanded Kirby, striding forward. + +A dozen--perhaps more--hillmen, of three or four different tribes, had +sat back against one wall and looked suspicious when they entered, but +at sight of Kirby's military clothes they had looked alarmed and moved +as if a whip had been cracked not far away. The Northern adventurer +does not care to be seen at his amusements, nor does he love to be +looked in on by men in uniform. + +But the little maid beckoned them on, still showing her teeth and +tripping in front of them as if a gust of wind were blowing her. Her +motion was that of a dance reduced to a walk for the sake of decorum. + +Through another glass-bead curtain at the farther end of the long room +she led them to a second room, all hung about with silks and furnished +with deep-cushioned divans. There were mirrors in this room, too, so +that Kirby laughed aloud to see how incongruous and completely out of +place he and his adjutant locked. His gruff laugh came so suddenly that +the maid nearly jumped out of her skin. + +"Will the sahibs be seated?" she asked almost in a whisper, as if they +had half-frightened the life out of her, and then she ran out of the +room so quickly that they were only aware of the jingling curtain. + +So they sat down, Kirby trying the cushions with his foot until he +found some firm enough to allow him to retain his dignity. Cavalry +dress-trousers are not built to sprawl on cushions in; a man should sit +reasonably upright or else stand. + +"I'll say this for myself," he grunted, as he settled into place, "it's +the first time in my life I was ever inside a native woman's premises." + +Warrington did not commit himself to speech. + +They sat for five minutes looking about them, Warrington beginning to +be bored, but Kirby honestly interested by the splendor of the hangings +and the general atmosphere of Eastern luxury. It was Warrington who +grew uneasy first. + +"Feel as if any one was lookin' at you, sir?" he asked out of one side +of his mouth. And then Kirby noticed it, and felt his collar awkwardly. + +In all the world there is nothing so well calculated to sap a man's +prepossession as the feeling that he is secretly observed. There was no +sound, no movement, no sign of any one, and Warrington looked in the +mirrors keenly while he pretended to be interested in his little +mustache. Yet the sweat began to run down Colonel Kirby's temples, and +he felt at his collar again to make sure that it stood upright. + +"Yes," he said, "I do. I'm going to get up and walk about." + +He paced the length of the long room twice, turning quickly at each +end, but detecting no movement and no eyes. Then he sat down again +beside Warrington; but the feeling still persisted. + +Suddenly a low laugh startled them, a delicious laugh, full of +camaraderie, that would have disarmed the suspicion of a wolf. Just as +unexpectedly a curtain less than a yard away from Kirby moved, and she +stood before them--Yasmini. She could only be Yasmini. Besides, she had +jasmine flowers worked into her hair. + +Like a pair of bull buffaloes startled from their sleep, the colonel +and his adjutant shot to their feet and faced her, and to their credit +let it be recorded that they dropped their eyes, both of them. They +felt like bounders. They hated themselves for breaking in on such +loveliness. + +"Will the sahibs not be seated again?" she asked them in a velvet +voice; and, sweating in the neck, they each sat down. + +Now that the first feeling of impropriety had given way to curiosity, +neither had eyes for anything but her. Neither had ever seen anything +so beautiful, so fascinating, so impudently lovely. She was laughing at +them; each knew it, yet neither felt resentful. + +"Well?" she asked in Hindustani, and arched her eyebrows questioning. + +And Colonel Kirby stammered because she had made him think of his +mother, and the tender prelude to a curtain lecture. Yet this woman was +not old enough to have been his wife! + +"I-I-I came to ask about a friend of mine--by name Risaldar--Major +Ranjoor Singh. I understand you know him?" + +She nodded, and Kirby fought with a desire to let his mind wander. The +subtle hypnotism that the East knows how to stage and use was creeping +over him. She stood so close! She seemed so like the warm soft spirit +of all womanhood that only the measured rising and falling of her +bosom, under the gauzy drapery, made her seem human and not a spirit. +Subtly, ever so cunningly, she had contrived to touch a chord in +Colonel Kirby's heart that he did not know lived any more. Warrington +was speechless; he could not have trusted himself to speak. She had +touched another chord in him. + +"He came here more than once, or so I've been given to understand," +said Kirby, and his own voice startled him, for it seemed harsh. "He is +said to have listened to a lecture here--I was told the lecture was +delivered by a German--and there was some sort of a fracas outside in +the street afterward. I'm told some of his squadron were near, and they +thrashed a man. Now, Ranjoor Singh is missing." + +"So?" said Yasmini, arching her whole lithe body into a setting for the +prettiest yawn that Kirby had ever seen. "So the Jat is missing! Yes, +he came here, sahib. He was never invited, but he came. He sat here +saying nothing until it suited him to sit where another man was; then +he struck the other man--so, with the sole of his foot--and took the +man's place, and heard what he came to hear. Later, outside in the +street, he and his men set on the Afridi whom he had struck with his +foot and beat him." + +"I have heard a variation of that," said Kirby. + +"Have you ever heard, sahib, that he who strikes the wearer of a +Northern knife is like to feel that knife? So Ranjoor Singh, the Jat, +is missing?" + +"Yes," said Kirby, frowning, for he was not pleased to hear Ranjoor +Singh spoken of slightingly. A Jat may be a good enough man, and +usually is, but a Sikh is a Jat who is better. + +"And if he is missing, what has that to do with me?" asked Yasmini. + +"I have heard--men say--" + +"Yes?" she said, laughing, for it amused her almost more than any other +thing to see dignity disarmed. + +"Men say that you know most of what goes on in Delhi--" + +"And--?" She was Impudence arrayed in gossamer. + +Colonel Kirby pulled himself together; after all, it was not for long +that anything less than an army corps could make him feel unequal to a +situation. This woman was the loveliest thing he had ever seen, but.... + +"I've come to find out whether Ranjoor Singh's alive or dead," he said +sternly, "and, if he's alive, to take him away with me." + +She smiled as graciously as evening smiles on the seeded plains, and +sank on to a divan with the grace it needs a life of dancing to bestow. + +"Sahib," she said, with a suddenly assumed air of candidness, "they +have told the truth. There is little that goes on in Delhi--in the +world--that I can not hear of if I will. The winds of the world flow in +and out of these four walls." + +"Then where is Ranjoor Singh?" asked Colonel Kirby. + +She did not hesitate an instant. He was watching her amazing eyes that +surely would have betrayed her had she been at a moment's loss; they +did not change nor darken for a second. + +"How much, does the sahib know already?" she asked calmly, as if she +wished to spare him an unnecessary repetition of mere beginnings. + +"A trooper of D Squadron--that's Ranjoor Singh's squadron--was murdered +in the bazaar this afternoon. The risaldar-major went to the morgue to +identify the body--drove through the bazaar, and possibly discovered +some clue to the murderer. At all events, he is known to have entered a +house in the bazaar, and that house is now in flames." + +"The sahib knows that much? And am I to quell the flames?" asked +Yasmini. + +She neither sat nor lay on the divan. She was curled on it, leaning on +an elbow, like an imp from another world. + +"Who owns that house?" asked Kirby, since he could think of nothing +else to ask. + +"That is the House-of-the-Eight-Half--brothers," said Yasmini. "He who +built it had eight wives, and a son by each. That was ages ago, and the +descendants of the eight half-brothers are all at law about the +ownership. There are many stories told about that house." + +Suddenly she broke into laughter, leaning on her hand and mocking them +as Puck mocked mortals. A man could not doubt her. Colonel and +adjutant, both men who had seen grim service and both self-possessed as +a rule, knew that she could read clean through them, and that from the +bottom of her deep, wise soul she was amused. + +"I am from the North," she said, "and the North is cold; there is +little mercy in the hills, and I was weaned amid them. Yet--would the +sahib not better beg of me?" + +"How d'ye mean?" asked Kirby, surprised into speaking English. + +"_Three days_ ago there came a wind that told _me_ of war--of a +world-war, surely not this time stillborn. Two years ago the same wind +brought me news of its conception, though the talk of the world was +then of universal peace and of horror at a war that was. Now, to-night, +this greatest war is loose, born and grown big within three days, but +conceived two years ago--Russia, Germany, Austria, France are +fighting--is it not so? Am I wrong?" + +"I came to ask about Ranjoor Singh," said Colonel Kirby, twisting at +his closely cropped mustache. + +There was a hint of iron in his voice, and he was obviously not the man +to threaten and not fulfil. But she laughed in his face. + +"All in good time!" she answered him. "You shall beg for your Ranjoor +Singh, and then perhaps he shall step forth from the burning house! But +first you shall know why you _must_ beg." + +She clapped her hands, and a maid appeared. She gave an order, and the +maid brought sherbet that Kirby sniffed suspiciously before tasting. +Again she laughed deliciously. + +"Does the sahib think that he could escape alive from this room did I +will otherwise?" she asked. "Would I need to drug--I who have so many +means?" + +Now, it is a maxim of light cavalry that the best means of defense lies +in attack; a threat of force should be met by a show of force, and +force by something quicker. Kirby's eyes and his adjutant's met. Each +felt for his hidden pistol. But she laughed at them with mirth that was +so evidently unassumed that they blushed to their ears. + +"Look!" she said; and they looked. + +Two great gray cobras, male and female, swayed behind them less than a +yard away, balanced for the strike, hoods raised. The awful, ugly black +eyes gleamed with malice. And a swaying cobra's head is not an easy +thing to hit with an automatic-pistol bullet, supposing, for wild +imagination's sake, that the hooded devil does not strike first. + +"It is not wise to move!" purred Yasmini. + +They did not see her make any sign, though she must have made one, for +their eyes were fixed on the swaying snakes, and their brains were +active with the problem of whether to try to shoot or not. It seemed to +them that the snakes reached a resolution first, and struck. And in the +same instant as each drew his pistol the hooded messengers of death +were jerked out of sight by hands that snatched at horsehair from +behind the hangings. + +"I have many such!" smiled Yasmini, and they turned to meet her eyes +again, hoping she could not read the fear in theirs. "But that is not +why the sahib shall beg of me." Kirby was not too overcome to notice +the future tense. "That is only a reason why the sahibs should forget +their Western manners. But--if the pistols please the sahibs--" + +They stowed their pistols away again and sat as if the very cushions +might be stuffed with snakes, both of them aware that she had produced +a mental effect which was more to her advantage than the pistols would +have been had they made her a present of them. She gave a sudden shrill +cry that startled them and made them look wildly for the door; but she +had done no more than command a punkah-wallah, and the heavy-beamed +punkah began to swing rhythmically overhead, adding, if that were +possible, to the mesmeric spell. + +"Now," she said, "I will tell a little of the why of things." And +Colonel Kirby hoped it was the punkah, and not funk, that made the +sweat stream down his neck until his collar was a mere uncomfortable +mess. "For more than a year there has been much talk in India. The +winds have brought it all to me. There was talk--and the government has +known it, for I am one of those who told the government--of a ripe time +for a blow for independence. + +"There have been agents of another Power, pretending to be merchants, +who have sown their seed carefully in the bazaars. And then there went +natives in the pay of the merchants who had word with native sowars, +saying that it is not well to be carried over sea to fight another's +quarrels. All this the government knew, though, of course, thou art not +the government, but only a soldier with a ready pistol and a dull wit." + +"What bearing has this on Ranjoor Singh?" asked Kirby. It was so long +since he had been spoken to so bluntly that he could not sit still +under it. + +"I am explaining why the colonel sahib shall beg for his Ranjoor +Singh," she smiled. "Does the fire burn yet, I wonder?" + +She struck a gong, and a maid appeared in the door like an instant echo. + +"Does the fire still burn?" she asked. + +The maid disappeared, and was gone five minutes, during which Kirby and +Warrington sat in silent wonder. They wondered chiefly what the +regiment would say if it knew--and whether the regiment would ever +know. Then the maid came back. + +"It burns," she said. "I can see flame from the roof, though not so +much flame." + +"So," said Yasmini. "Listen, sahibs." + +It is doubtful if a trumpet could have summoned them away, for she had +them bound in her spells, and each in a different spell, as her way is. +She had little need to order them to listen. + +"The talk in the bazaars did little harm, for the fat _bunnias_ know +well whose rule has given them their pickings. They talk for the love +of words, but they trade for the love of money, and the government +protects their money. Nay, it was not the _bunnias_ who mattered. + +"But there came a day when the rings of talk had reached the hills, and +hillmen came to Delhi to hear more, as they ever have come since India +was India. And it was clear then to the government that proof of +disloyalty among the native regiments would set the hillmen screaming +for a holy war-for the hills are cold, sahibs, and the hillmen have +cold hearts and are quick to take advantage, even as I am, of others' +embarrassment. Hillmen have no mercy, Colonel sahib. I was weaned amid +the hills." + +It seemed to Kirby and Warrington both--for not all their wits were +stupefied--that she was sparring for time. And then Warrington saw a +face reflected in one of the mirrors and nudged Kirby, and Kirby saw it +too. They both saw that she was watching it. It was a fat face, and it +looked terrified, but the lips did not move and only the eyes had +expression. In a moment a curtain seemed to be drawn in front of it, +and Yasmini took up her tale. + +"And then, sahibs, as I have told already, there came a wind that +whistled about war; and it pleased the government to know which, if +any, of the native regiments had been affected by the talk. So a closer +watch was set, then a net was drawn, and Ranjoor Singh ran into the +net." + +"An antelope might blunder into a net set for a tiger," said Kirby. "I +am here to cut him out again." + +Yasmini laughed. + +"With pistols to shoot the cobras and sweat to put out flame? Nay, what +is there to cut but the dark that closes up again? Sahib, thou shalt +_beg_ for Ranjoor Singh, who struck a hillman in my house, he was so +eager to hear treason!" + +"Ranjoor Singh's honor and mine are one!" said Colonel Kirby, using a +native phrase that admits of no double meaning, and for a second +Yasmini stared at him in doubt. + +She had heard that phrase used often to express native regard for a +native, or for an Englishman, but never before by an Englishman for a +native. + +"Then beg for him!" she grinned mischievously. "Aye, I know the tale! +It is the eve of war, and he commands a squadron, and there is need of +him. Is it not so? Yet the house that he entered burns. And the +hillman's knife is long and keen, sahib! Beg for him!" + +Kirby had risen to his feet, and Warrington followed suit. Kirby's +self-possession was returning and she must have known it; perhaps she +even intended that it should. But she lay curled on the divan, laughing +up at him, and perfectly unimpressed by his recovered dignity. + +"If he's alive, and you know where he is," said Kirby, "I will pay you +your price. Name it!" + +"Beg for him! There is no other price. The +House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers burns! Beg for him!" + +Now, the colonel of a regiment of light cavalry is so little given to +beg for things that the word beg has almost lapsed out of his +vocabulary from desuetude. + +"I beg you to tell me where he is," he said stiffly, and she clapped +her hands and laughed with such delight that he blushed to his ears +again. + +"I have had a prince on his knees to me, and many a priest," she +chuckled, "aye, and many a soldier--but never yet a British colonel +sahib. Kneel and beg!" + +"Why--what--what d'ye mean?" demanded Kirby. + +"Is his honor not your honor? I have heard it said. Then beg, Colonel +sahib, on your knees--on those stiff British knees--beg for the honor +of Ranjoor Singh!" + +"D'you mean--d'you mean--?" + +"Beg for his honor, and beg for his life, on your knees, Colonel sahib!" + +"I could look the other way, sir," whispered Warrington, for the +regiment's need was very real. + +"Nay, both of you! Ye shall both beg!" said Yasmini, "or Ranjoor Singh +shall taste a hillman's mercy. He shall die so dishonored that the +regiment shall hang its head in shame." + +"Impossible!" said Kirby. "His honor is as good as mine!' + +"Then beg for his and thine--on your knees, Colonel sahib!" + +Then it seemed to Colonel Kirby that the room began to swim, for what +with the heat and what with an unconquerable dread of snakes, he was +not in shape to play his will against this woman's. + +"What if I kneel?" he asked. + +"I will promise you Ranjoor Singh, alive and clean!" + +"When?" + +"In time!" + +"In time for what?" + +"Against the regiment's need!" + +"No use. I want him at once!" said Colonel Kirby. + +"Then go, sahib! Put out the fire with the sweat that streams from +thee! Nay, go, both of you--ye have my leave to go! And what is a Sikh +risaldar more or less? Nay, go, and let the Jat die!" + +It is not to be written lightly that the British colonel of Outram's +Own and his adjutant both knelt to a native woman--if she is a +native--in a top back-room of a Delhi bazaar. But it has to be recorded +that for the sake of Ranjoor Singh they did. + +They knelt and placed their foreheads where she bade them, against the +divan at her feet, and she poured enough musk in their hair, for the +love of mischief, to remind them of what they had done until in the +course of slowly moving nature the smell should die away. And then in a +second the lights went out, each blown by a fan from behind the silken +hangings. + +They heard her silvery laugh, and they heard her spring to the floor. +In cold, creeping sweat they listened to footsteps, and a little voice +whispered in Hindustani: + +"This way, sahibs!" + +They followed, since there was nothing else to do and their pride was +all gone, to be pushed and pulled by unseen hands and chuckling girls +down stairs that were cut out of sheer blackness. And at the foot of +the dark a voice that Warrington recognized shed new interest but no +light on the mystery. + +"Salaam, sahibs," said a fat babu, backing through a door in front of +them and showing himself silhouetted against the lesser outer darkness. +"Seeing regimental risaldar on the box seat, I took liberty. The +risaldar-major is sending this by as yet unrewarded messenger, and word +to the effect that back way out of burning house was easier than front +way in. He sends salaam. I am unrewarded messenger." + +He slipped something into Colonel Kirby's hands, and Kirby struck a +match to examine it. It was Ranjoor Singh's ring that had the +regimental crest engraved on it. + +"Not yet rewarded!" said the babu. + + + Let the strong take the wall of the weak, + (And there's plenty of room in the dust!) + Let the bully be brave, but the meek + No more in the way than he must. + Be crimson and ermine and gold, + Good lying and living and mirth, + (Oh, laugh and be fat!) the reward of the bold, + But--(sotto voce)--the meek shall inherit the earth! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +"That's the man whose face was in the mirror!" said Warrington +suddenly, reaching out to seize the babu's collar. "He's the man who +wanted to be regimental clerk! He's the man who was offering to eat a +German a day!... No--stand still, and I won't hurt you!" + +"Bring him out into the fresh air!" ordered Kirby. + +The illimitable sky did not seem big enough just then; four walls could +not hold him. Kirby, colonel of light cavalry, and considered by many +the soundest man in his profession, was in revolt against himself; and +his collar was a beastly mess. + +"Hurry out of this hole, for heaven's sake!" he exclaimed. + +So Warrington applied a little science to the babu, and that gentleman +went out through a narrow door backward at a speed and at an angle that +were new to him--so new that he could not express his sensations in the +form of speech. The door shut behind them with a slam, and when they +looked for it they could see no more than a mark in the wall about +fifty yards from the bigger door by which they had originally entered. + +"There's the carriage waiting, sir!" said Warrington, and with a glance +toward it to reassure himself, Kirby opened his mouth wide and filled +his lungs three times with the fresh, rain-sweetened air. + +There were splashes of rain falling, and he stood with bared head, face +upward, as if the rain would wash Yasmini's musk from him. It was +nearly pitch-dark, but Warrington could just see that the risaldar on +the box seat raised his whip to them in token of recognition. + +"Now then! Speak, my friend! What were you doing in there?" demanded +Warrington. + +"No, not here!" said Kirby. "We might be recognized. Bring him into the +shay." + +The babu uttered no complaint, but allowed himself to be pushed along +at a trot ahead of the adjutant, and bundled head-foremost through the +carriage door. + +"Drive slowly!" ordered Kirby, clambering in last; and the risaldar +sent the horses forward at a steady trot. + +"Now!" said Warrington. + +"H-r-r-ump!" said Kirby. + +"My God, gentlemen!" said the babu. "Sahibs, I am innocent of all +complicitee in this or any other eventualitee. I am married man, having +family responsibilitee and other handicaps. Therefore--" + +"Where did you get this ring?" demanded Kirby. + +"That? Oh, that!" said the babu. "That is veree simplee told. That is +simple little matter. There is nothing untoward in that connection. +Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh, who is legal owner of ring, same being +his property, gave it into my hand." + +"When?" + +Both men demanded to know that in one voice. + +"Sahibs, having no means of telling time, how can I guess?" + +"How long ago? About how long ago?" + +"Being elderly person of advancing years and much, adipose tissue, I am +not able to observe more than one thing at a time. And yet many things +have been forced on my attention. I do not know how long ago." + +"Since I saw you outside the barrack gate?" demanded Warrington. + +"Oh, yes. Oh, certainly. By all means!" + +"Less than two hours ago, then, sir!" said Warrington, looking at his +watch. + +"Then he isn't burned to death!" said Kirby, with more satisfaction +than he had expressed all the evening. + +"Oh, no, sir! Positivelee not, sahib! The risaldar-major is all +vitalitee!" + +"Where did he give you the ring?" + +"Into the palm of my hand, sahib." + +"Where--in what place--in what street--at whose house?" + +"At nobody's house, sahib. It was in the dark, and the dark is very +big." + +"Did he give it you at Yasmini's?" + +"Oh, no, sahib! Positivelee not!" + +"Where is he now?" + +"Sahib, how should I know, who am but elderly person of no metaphysical +attainments, only failed B.A.?" + +"What did he say when he gave it to you?" + +"Sahib, he threatened me!" + +"Confound you, what did he say?" + +"He said, '_Babuji_, present this ring to Colonel Kirby sahib. You will +find him, _babuji_, where you will find him, but in any case you will +lose no time at all in finding him. When you have given the ring to him +he will ask you questions, and you will say Ranjoor Singh said, "All +will presently be made clear"; and should you forget the message, +_babuji_, or should you fail to find him soon, there are those who will +make it their urgent business, _babuji_, to open that belly of thine +and see what is in it!' So, my God, gentlemen! I am veree timid man! I +have given the ring and the message, but how will they know that I have +given it? I did not think of that! Moreover, I am unrewarded--I have no +emolument--as yet!" + +"How will _who_ know?" demanded Warrington. + +"They, sahib." + +"Who are they?" asked Kirby. + +"The men who will investigate the inside of my belly, sahib. Oh, a +belly is so sensitive! I am afraid!" + +"Did he tell you who 'they' were?" + +"No, sahib. Had he done so, I would at once have sought police +protection. Not knowing names of individuals, what was use of going to +police, who would laugh at me? I went to Yasmini, who understands all +things. She laughed, too; but she told me where is Colonel Kirby sahib." + +Colonel Kirby became possessed of a bright idea, his first since +Yasmini had thrown her spell over him. + +"Could you find the way," he asked, "from here to wherever it was that +Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh gave you that ring?" + +The babu thrust his head out of the carriage window and gazed into the +dark for several minutes. + +"Conceivablee yes, sahib." + +"Then tell the driver where to turn!" + +"I could direct with more discernment from box-seat," said the babu, +with a hand on the door. + +"No, you don't!" commanded Warrington. + +"Let go that handle! What I want to know is why were you so afraid at +Yasmini's?" + +"I, sahib?" + +"Yes, you! I saw your face in a mirror, and you were scared nearly to +death. Of what?" + +"Who is not afraid of Yasmini? Were the sahibs not also afraid?" + +"Of what besides Yasmini were you afraid? Of what in particular?" + +"Of her cobras, sahib!" + +"What of them?" demanded Warrington, with a reminiscent shudder. + +"Certain of her women showed them to me." + +"Why?" + +"To further convince me, sahib, had that been necessary. Oh, but I was +already quite convinced. Bravery is not my _vade mecum!_" + +"Confound the man! To convince you of what?" + +"That if I tell too much one of those snakes will shortlee be my +bedmate. Ah! To think of it causes me to perspirate with sweat. Sahibs, +that is a--" + +"You shall go to jail if you don't tell me what I want to know!" said +Kirby. + +"Ah, sahib, I was jail clerk once--dismissed for minor offenses but +cumulative in effect. Being familiar with inside of jail, am able to +make choice." + +"Get on the box-seat with him!" commanded Kirby. "Let him show the +driver where to turn. But watch him! Keep hold of him!" + +So again the babu was propelled on an involuntary course, and +Warrington proceeded to pinch certain of his fat parts to encourage him +to mount the box with greater speed; but his helplessness became so +obvious that Warrington turned friend and shoved him up at last, +keeping hold of his loin-cloth when he wedged his own muscular anatomy +into the small space left. + +"To the right," said the babu, pointing. And the risaldar drove to the +right. + +"To the left," said the babu, and Warrington made note of the fact that +they were not so very far away from the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers. + +Soon the babu began to scratch his stomach. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Warrington. + +"They said they would cut my belly open, sahib! A belly is so +sensitive!" + +Warrington laughed sympathetically; for the fear was genuine and +candidly expressed. The babu continued scratching. + +"To the right," he said after a while, and the risaldar drove to the +right, toward where a Hindu temple cast deep shadows, and a row of +trees stood sentry in spasmodic moonlight. In front of the temple, +seated on a mat, was a wandering fakir of the none-too-holy type. By +his side was a flat covered basket. + +"Look, sahib!" said the babu; and Warrington looked. + +"My belly crawls!" + +"What's the matter, man?" + +"He is a fakir. There are snakes in that basket--cobras, sahib! +Ow-ow-ow!" + +Warrington, swaying precariously over the edge, held tight by the +loin-cloth, depending on it as a yacht in a tideway would to three +hundred pounds of iron. + +"Oh, cobras are so veree dreadful creatures!" wailed the babu, +caressing his waist again. "Look, sahib! Look! Oh, look! Between devil +and over-sea what should a man do? Ow!" + +The carriage lurched at a mud-puddle. The babu's weight lurched with +it, and Warrington's center of gravity shifted. The babu seemed to +shrug himself away from the snakes, but the effect was to shove +Warrington the odd half-inch it needed to put him overside. He clung to +the loin-cloth and pulled hard to haul himself back again, and the +loin-cloth came away. + +"Halt!" yelled Warrington; and the risaldar reined in. + +But the horses took fright and plunged forward, though the risaldar +swore afterward that the babu did nothing to them; he supposed it must +have been the fakir squatting in the shadows that scared them. + +And whatever it may have been--snakes or not--that had scared the babu, +it had scared all his helplessness away. Naked from shirt to socks, he +rolled like a big ball backward over the carriage top, fell to earth +behind the carriage, bumped into Warrington, who was struggling to his +feet, knocking him down again, and departed for the temple shadows, +screaming. The temple door slammed just as Warrington started after him. + +By that time the risaldar had got the horses stopped, and Colonel Kirby +realized what had happened. + +"Come back, Warrington!" he ordered peremptorily. + +Warrington obeyed, but without enthusiasm. + +"I can run faster than that fat brute, sir!" he said. "And I saw him go +into the temple. We won't find Ranjoor Singh now in a month of Sundays!" + +He was trying to wipe the mud from himself with the aid of the +loin-cloth. + +"Anyhow, I've got the most important part of his costume," he said +vindictively. "Gad, I'd like to get him on the run now through the +public street!" + +"Come along in!" commanded Kirby, opening the door. "There has been +trouble enough already without a charge of temple breaking. Tell the +risaldar to drive back to quarters. I'm going to get this musk out of +my hair before dawn!" + +Warrington sniffed as he climbed in. The outer night had given him at +least a standard by which to judge things. + +"I'd give something to listen to the first man who smells the inside of +this shay!" he said cheerily. "D 'you suppose we can blame it on the +babu, sir?" + +"We can try!" said Kirby. "Is that his loin-cloth you've got still?" + +"Didn't propose to leave it in the road for him to come and find, sir! +His present shame is about the only consolation prize we get out of the +evening's sport. I wish it smelt of musk--but it doesn't; it smells of +babu--straight babu, undiluted. Hallo--what's this?" + +He began to untwist a corner of the cloth, holding it up to get a +better view of it in the dim light that entered through the window. He +produced a piece of paper that had to be untwisted, too. + +"Got a match, sir?" + +Kirby struck one. + +"It's addressed to 'Colonel Kirby sahib!' Bet you it's from Ranjoor +Singh! Now--d'you suppose that heathen meant to hold on to that until +he could get his price for it?" + +"Dunno," said Kirby with indifference, opening the note as fast as +trembling fingers could unfold it. He would not have admitted to +himself what his fingers told so plainly--the extent of his regard for +Ranjoor Singh. + +The note was short, and Kirby read it aloud, since it was not marked +private, and there was nothing in it that even the babu might not have +read: + +"To Colonel Kirby sahib, from his obedient servant, Risaldar-Major +Ranjoor Singh--Leave of absence being out of question after declaration +of war, will Colonel Kirby sahib please put in Order of the Day that +Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh is assigned to special duty, or words to +same effect?" + +"Is that all?" asked Warrington. + +"That's all," said Kirby. + +"Suppose it's a forgery?" + +"The ring rather proves it isn't, and I've another way of knowing." + +"Oh!" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +They sat in silence in the swaying shay until the smell of musk and the +sense of being mystified became too much for Warrington, and he began +to hum to himself. Humming brought about a return to his usual +wide-awakefulness, and he began to notice things. + +"Shay rides like a gun," he said suddenly. + +Kirby grunted. + +"All the weight's behind and--" He put his head out of the window to +investigate, but Kirby ordered him to sit still. + +"Want to be recognized?" he demanded. "Keep your head inside, you young +ass!" + +So Warrington sat back against the cushions until the guard at the +barrack gate turned out to present arms to the risaldar's raised whip. +As if he understood the requirements of the occasion without being +told, the risaldar sent the horses up the drive at a hard gallop. It +was rather more than half-way up the drive that Warrington spoke again. + +"Feel that, sir?" he asked. + +"I ordered that place to be seen to yesterday!" growled Kirby. "Why +wasn't it done?" + +"It was, sir." + +"Why did we bump there, then?" + +"Why aren't we running like a gun any longer?" wondered Warrington. +"Felt to me as if we'd dropped a load." + +"Well, here we are, thank God! What do you mean to do?" + +"Rounds," said Warrington. + +"Very well." + +Kirby dived through his door, while Warrington went behind the shay to +have a good look for causes. He could find none, although a black +leather apron, usually rolled up behind in order to be strapped over +baggage when required, was missing. + +"Didn't see who took that apron, did you?" he asked the risaldar; but +the risaldar had not known that it was gone. + +"All right, then, and thank you!" said Warrington, walking off into the +darkness bareheaded, to help the smell evaporate from his hair; and the +shay rumbled away to its appointed place, with the babu's loin-cloth +inside it on the front seat. + +It need surprise nobody that Colonel Kirby found time first to go to +his bathroom. His regiment was as ready for active service at any +minute as a fire-engine should be--in that particular, India's speed is +as three to Prussia's one. The moment orders to march should come, he +would parade it in full marching order and lead it away. But there were +no orders yet; he had merely had warning. + +So he sent for dog-soap and a brush, and proceeded to scour his head. +After twenty minutes of it, and ten changes of water, when he felt that +he dared face his own servant without blushing, he made that wondering +Sikh take turns at shampooing him until he could endure the friction no +longer. + +"What does my head smell of now?" he demanded. + +"Musk, sahib!" + +"Not of dog-soap?" + +"No, sahib!" + +"Bring that carbolic disinfectant here!" + +The servant obeyed, and Kirby mixed a lotion that would outsmell most +things. He laved his head in it generously, and washed it off sparingly. + +"Bring me brown paper?" he ordered then; and again the wide-eyed Sikh +obeyed. + +Kirby rolled the paper into torches, and giving the servant one, +proceeded to fumigate the room and his own person until not even a +bloodhound could have tracked him back to Yasmini's, and the reek of +musk had been temporarily, at least, subdued into quiescence. + +"Go and ask Major Brammle to come and see me," said Kirby then. + + * * * * * + +Brammle came in sniffing, and Kirby cursed him through tight lips with +words that were no less fervent for lack of being heard. + +"Hallo! Burning love-letters? The whole mess is doin' the same thing. +Haven't had time to burn mine yet--was busy sorting things over when +you called. Look here!" + +He opened the front of his mess-jacket and produced a little lace +handkerchief, a glove and a powder-puff. + +"Smell 'em!" he said. "Patchouli! Shame to burn 'em, what? S'pose I +must, though." + +"Any thing happen while I was gone?" asked Kirby. + +"Yes. Most extraordinary thing. You know that a few hours ago D +Squadron were all sitting about in groups looking miserable? We set it +down to their trooper being murdered and another man being missing. +Well, just about the time you and Warrington drove off in the mess +shay, they all bucked up and began grinning! Wouldn't say a word. Just +grinned, and became the perkiest squadron of the lot! + +"Now they're all sleeping like two-year-olds. Reason? Not a word of +reason! I saw young Warrington just now on his way to their quarters +with a lantern, and if he can find any of 'em awake perhaps he can get +the truth out of 'em, for they'll talk to him when they won't to +anybody else. By the way, Warrington can't have come in with you, did +he?" + +Kirby ignored the question. + +"Did you tell Warrington to go and ask them?" he demanded. + +"Yes. Passed him in the dark, but did not recognize him by the smell. +No--no! Got as near him as I could, and then leaned up against the +scent to have a word with him! Musk! Never smelt anything like it in my +life! Talk about girls! He must be in love with half India, and native +at that! Brazen-faced young monkey! I asked him where he got the +disinfectant, and he told me he fell into a mud-puddle!" + +"Perhaps he did," said Kirby. "Was there mud on him?" + +"Couldn't see. Didn't dare get so near him! Don't you think he ought to +be spoken to? I mean, the eve of war's the eve of war and all that kind +of thing, but--" + +"I wish you'd let me see the Orders of the Day," Kirby interrupted. "I +want to make an addition to them." + +"I'll send an orderly." + +"Wish you would." + +Five minutes later Kirby sat at his private desk, while Brammle puffed +at a cigar by the window. Kirby, after a lot of thinking, wrote: + +"Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh (D Squadron) assigned to special duty." + +He handed the orders back to Brammle, and the major eyed the addition +with subdued amazement. + +"What'll D Squadron say?" he asked. + +"Remains to be seen," said Kirby. + +Outside in the muggy blackness that shuts down on India in the rains, +Warrington walked alone, swinging a lantern and chuckling to himself as +he reflected what D Squadron would be likely to invent as a reason for +the smell that walked with him. For he meant to wake D Squadron and +learn things. + +But all at once it occurred to him that he had left the babu's +loin-cloth on the inside front seat of the shay; and, because if that +were seen it would have given excuse for a thousand tales too many and +too imaginative, he hurried in search of it, taking a short cut to +where by that time the shay should be. On his way, close to his +destination, he stumbled over something soft that tripped him. He +stooped, swung the lantern forward, and picked up--the missing leather +apron from behind the shay. + +The footpath on which he stood was about a yard wide; the shay could +not possibly have come along it. And it certainly had been behind the +shay when they left barracks. Moreover, close examination proved it to +be the identical apron beyond a shadow of a doubt. + +Warrington began to hum to himself. And then he ceased from humming. +Then he set the lantern down and stepped away from it sidewise until +its light no longer shone on him. He listened, as a dog does, with +intelligence and skill. Then, suddenly, he sprang and lit on a bulky +mass that yielded--gasped--spluttered--did anything but yell. + +"So you rode on the luggage-rack behind the carriage, did you, +_babuji?_" he smiled. "And curled under the apron to look like luggage +when we passed the guard, eh?" + +"But, my God, sahib!" said a plaintive voice. "Should I walk through +Delhi naked? You, who wear pants, you laugh at me, but I assure you, +sahib--" + +"Hush!" ordered Warrington; and the babu seemed very glad to hush. + +"There was a note in a corner of that cloth of yours!" + +"And the sahib found it? Oh, then I am relieved. I am preserved from +pangs of mutual regret!" + +"Why didn't you give that note to Colonel Kirby sahib when you had the +chance? Eh?" asked Warrington, keeping firm hold of him. + +"Sahib! Your honor! Not being yet remunerated on account of ring and +verbal message duly delivered, commercial precedent was all on my side +that I should retain further article of value pending settlement. Now, +I ask you--" + +"Where was Ranjoor Singh when he gave you that ring and message?" +demanded Warrington sternly, increasing his grip on the babu's fat arm. + +"Sahib, when I have received payment for first service rendered, my +disposition may be changed. I am as yet in condition of _forma +pauperis._" + +Still holding him tight, Warrington produced twenty rupees in paper +money. + +"Can you see those, _babuji_? See them? Then earn them!" + +"Oh, my God, sahib, I have positivelee earned a lakh of rupees this +night already!" + +"Where was Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh when he--" + +Footsteps were approaching--undoubtedly a guard on his way to +investigate. The babu seemed to sense Warrington's impatience. + + +"Sahib," he said, "I am very meek person, having family of wife and +children all dependent. Is that rupees twenty? I would graciously +accept same, and positivelee hold my tongue!" + +The steps came nearer. + +"I was on my way to D Squadron quarters, sahib, to narrate story and +pass begging bowl. Total price of story rupees twenty. Or else the +sahib may deliver me to guard, and guard shall be regaled free gratis +with full account of evening's amusement? Yes?" + +The steps came nearer yet. Recognizing an officer, the men halted a few +paces away. + +"Sahib, for sum of rupees twenty I could hold tongue for twenty years, +unless in meantime deceased, in which case--" + +"Take 'em!" ordered Warrington; and the babu's fingers shut tight on +the money. + +"Guard!" ordered Warrington. "Put this babu out into the street!" + +"Good night, sahib!" said the babu. "Kindlee present my serious +respects to the colonel sahib. Salaam, sahib!" + +But Warrington had gone into the darkness. + + + The Four Winds come, the Four Winds go, + (Ye wise o' the world, oh, listen ye!), + Whispering, whistling what they know, + Wise, since wandering made them so + (Ye stay-at-homes, oh, listen ye!). + Ever they seek and sift and pry-- + Listening here, and hurrying by-- + Restless, ceaseless--know ye why? + (Then, wise o' the world, oh, listen ye!) + The goal of the search of the hurrying wind + Is the key to the maze of a woman's mind, + (And there is no key! Oh, listen ye!) + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +So in a darkness that grew blacker every minute, Warrington swung his +lantern and found his way toward D Squadron's quarters. He felt rather +pleased with himself. From his own point of view he would have rather +enjoyed to have a story anent himself and Yasmini go the round of +barracks--with modifications, of course, and the kneeling part left +out--but he realized that it would not do at all to have Colonel +Kirby's name involved in anything of the sort, and he rather flattered +himself on his tact in bribing the babu or being blackmailed by him. + +"Got to admit that babu's quite a huntsman!" he told himself, beginning +to hum. "One day, if the war doesn't account for me, I'll come back and +take a fall out of that babu. Hallo--what's that? Who in thunder--who's +waking up the horses at this unearthly hour? Sick horse, I suppose. Why +don't they get him out and let the others sleep?" + +He began to hurry. A light in stables close to midnight was not to be +accounted for on any other supposition than an accident or serious +emergency, and if there were either it was his affair as adjutant to +know all the facts at once. + +"What's going on in there?" he shouted in a voice of authority while he +was yet twenty yards away. + +But there was no answer. He could hear a horse plunge, but nothing more. + +"Um-m-m! Horse cast himself!" he straightway decided. + +But there was no cast horse, as he was aware the moment he had looked +down both long lines of sleepy brutes that whickered their protest +against interrupted sleep. At the far end he could see that two men +labored, and a big horse fiercely resented their unseasonable +attentions to himself. He walked down the length of the stable, and +presently recognized Bagh, Ranjoor Singh's charger. + +"What are you grooming him for at this hour?" he demanded. + +"It is an order, sahib." + +"Whose order?" + +"Ranjoor Singh sahib's order." + +"The deuce it is! When did the order come?" + +"But now." + +"Who brought it?" + +"A babu, with a leather apron." + +Warrington walked away ten paces in order to get command of himself, +and pinch himself, and make quite sure he was awake. + +"A fat babu?" he asked, walking back again. + +"Very fat," said one of the troopers, continuing to brush the resentful +charger. + +"So he delivered his message first, and then went to hunt for his +loin-cloth!" mused Warrington. "And he had enough intuition, and guts +enough, to look for it first in the shay! I'm beginning to admire that +man!" Aloud he asked the trooper: "What was the wording of the +risaldar-major sahib's message?" + +"'Let Bagh be well groomed and held ready against all contingencies!'" +said the trooper. + +"Then take him outside!" ordered Warrington. "Groom him where you won't +disturb the other horses! How often have you got to be told that a +horse needs sleep as much as a man? The squadron won't be fit to march +a mile if you keep 'em awake all night! Lead him out quietly, now! +Whoa, you brute! Now--take him out and keep him out--put him in the end +stall in my stable when you've finished him--d'you hear?" + +He flattered himself again. With all these mysterious messages and +orders coming in from nowhere, he told himself it would be good to know +at all times where Ranjoor Singh's charger was, as well as a service to +Ranjoor Singh to stable the brute comfortably. He told himself that was +a very smart move, and one for which Ranjoor Singh would some day thank +him, provided, of course, that-- + +"Provided what?" he wondered half aloud. "Seems to me as if Ranjoor +Singh has got himself into some kind of a scrape, and hopes to get out +of it by the back-door route and no questions asked! Well, let's hope +he gets out! Let's hope there'll be no court-martial nastiness! Let's +hope--oh, damn just hoping! Ranjoor Singh's a better man than I am. +Here's believing in him! Here's to him, thick and thin! +Forward--walk--march!" + +He turned out the guard, and the particular troop sergeant with whom he +wished to speak not being on duty, he ordered him sent for. Ten minutes +later the sergeant came, still yawning, from his cot. + +"Come over here, Arjan Singh," he called, thinking fast and furiously +as he led the way. + +If he made one false move or aroused one suspicion in the man's mind, +he was likely to learn less than nothing; but if he did not appear to +know at least something, he would probably learn nothing either. + +As he turned, at a distance from the guard-room light, to face the +sergeant, though not to meet his eyes too keenly, the fact that would +not keep out of his brain was that the fat babu had been out in the +road, offering to eat Germans, a little while before he and the colonel +had started out that evening. And, according to what Brammle had told +him when they met near the colonel's quarters, it was very shortly +after that that the squadron came out of its gloom. + +"What was the first message that the babu brought this evening?" he +asked, still being very careful not to look into the sergeant's eyes. +He spoke as comrade to comrade--servant of the "Salt" to servant of the +"Salt." + +"Which babu, sahib?" asked Arjan Singh, unblinking. + +Now, in all probability, this man--since he had been asleep--knew +nothing about the message to groom Bagh. To have answered, "The babu +who spoke about the charger," might have been a serious mistake. + +"Arjan Singh, look me in the eyes!" he ordered, and the Sikh obeyed. He +was taller than Warrington, and looked down on him. + +"Are you a true friend of the risaldar-major?" + +"May I die, sahib, if I am not!" + +"And I? What of me? Am I his friend or his enemy?" + +The sergeant hesitated. + +"Can I read men's hearts?" he asked. + +"Yes!" said Warrington. "And so can I. That is why I had you called +from your sleep. I sent for you to learn the truth. What was the +message given by the fat babu to one of the guard by the outer gate +this evening, and delivered by him or by some other man to D Squadron?" + +"Sahib, it was not a written message." + +"Repeat it to me." + +"Sahib, it was verbal. I can not remember it." + +"Arjan Singh, you lie! Did I ever lie to you? Did I ever threaten you +and not carry out my threats--promise you and not keep my promise? I am +a soldier! Are you a cur?" + +"God forbid, sahib! I--" + +"Arjan Singh! Repeat that message to me word for word, please, not as a +favor, nor as obeying an order, but as a friend of Ranjoor Singh to a +friend of Ranjoor Singh!" + +"The message was to the squadron, not to me, sahib." + +"Are you not of the squadron?" + +"Make it an order, sahib!" + +"Certainly not--nor a favor either!" + +"Sahib, I--" + +"Nor will I threaten you! I guarantee you absolute immunity if you +refuse to repeat it. My word on it! I am Ranjoor Singh's friend, and I +ask of his friend!" + +"The babu said: 'Says Ranjoor Singh, "Let the squadron be on its best +behavior! Let the squadron know that surely before the blood runs he +will be there to lead it, wherever it is! Meanwhile, let the squadron +be worthy of its salt and of its officers!"'" + +"Was that all?" asked Warrington. + +"All, sahib. May my tongue rot if I lie!" + +"Thank you, Arjan Singh. That's all. You needn't mention our +conversation. Good night." + +"Fooled," chuckled Warrington. "She's fooled us to the limit of our +special bent, and I take it that's stiff-neckedness!" + +He hurried away toward Colonel Kirby's quarters, swinging his lantern +and humming to himself. + +"And this isn't the Arabian Nights!" he told himself. "It's +Delhi--Twentieth Century A.D.! Gad! Wouldn't the whole confounded army +rock with laughter!" + +Then he stopped chuckling, to hurry faster, for a giant horn had rooted +chunks out of the blackness by the barrack gate, and now what sounded +like a racing car was tearing up the drive. The head-lights dazzled +him, but he ran and reached the colonel's porch breathless. He was +admitted at once, and found the colonel and Brammle together, facing an +aide-de-camp. In the colonel's hand was a medium-sized, sealed envelope. + +"Shall I repeat it, sir?" asked the aide-de-camp. + +"Yes, if you think it necessary" answered Kirby. + +"The sealed orders are not to be opened until out at sea. You are +expected to parade at dawn the day after to-morrow, and there will be +somebody from headquarters to act as guide for the occasion. In fact, +you will be guided at each point until it is time to open your orders. +No explanations will be given about anything until later on. That's +all. Good night, sir--and good luck!" + +The aide-de-camp held out his hand, and Colonel Kirby shook it a trifle +perfunctorily; he was not much given to display of sentiment. The +aide-de-camp saluted, and a minute later the giant car spurned the +gravel out from under its rear wheels as it started off to warn another +regiment. + +"So we've got our route!" said Kirby. + +"And, thank God, we take our own horses!" said Brammle fervently. + +"Bet you a thousand the other end's Marseilles!" said Warrington. +"We're in luck. They'd have mounted us on bus-horses if we hadn't +brought our own; we'd have had to ring a bell to start and stop a +squadron. Who wouldn't be light cavalry?" + +Kirby put the sealed letter in an inside pocket. + +"I'm going to sleep," said Brammle, yawning. "Night, sir!" + +"Night!" said Kirby; but Warrington stayed on. He went and stood near +the window, and when Kirby had seen Brammle to the door, he joined him +there. + +"What now, Warrington?" + +"Caught 'em grooming Ranjoor Singh's charger in the dark!" + +"Why?" + +"Said it was an order from Ranjoor Singh!" + +"I'm getting tired of this. I don't know what to make of it." + +"That isn't nearly the worst, sir. Listen to this! Long before Yasmini +promised us--before we knelt to save his life and honor--Ranjoor Singh +had sent a message to his squadron guaranteein' to be with 'em before +the blood runs! Specific guarantee, and no conditions!" + +"Then--" + +"Exactly, sir!" + +"She fooled us, eh?" + +"D'you suppose she's for or against the government, sir?" + +"I don't know. Thank God we've got our marching orders! Go and wash +your head! And, Warrington--hold your tongue!" + +Warrington held up his right hand. + +"So help me, sir!" he grinned, "But will she hold hers?" + + + Westward, into the hungry West, + (Oh, listen, wise men, listen ye!) + Whirls the East Wind on his quest, + Whimpering, worrying, hurrying, lest + The light o'ertake him. Listen ye! + Mark ye the burden of his sigh: + "Westward sinks the sun to die! + Westward wing the vultures!"--Aye, + (Listen, wise men, listen ye!) + The East must lose--the West must gain, + For none come back to the East again, + Though widows call them! Listen ye! + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Now, India is unlike every other country in the world in all +particulars, and Delhi is in some respects the very heart through which +India's unusualness flows. Delhi has five railway stations with which +to cope with latter-day floods of paradoxical necessity; and nobody +knew from which railway station troops might be expected to entrain or +whither, although Delhi knew that there was war. + +There did not seem to be anything very much out of the ordinary at any +of the stations. In India one or two sidings are nearly always full of +empty trains; there did not seem to be more of them than usual. + +At the British barracks there was more or less commotion, because +Thomas Atkins likes to voice his joy when the long peace breaks at last +and he may justify himself; but in the native lines, where dignity is +differently understood, the only men who really seemed unusually busy +were the farriers, and the armourers who sharpened swords. + +The government offices appeared to be undisturbed, and certainly no +more messengers ran about than usual, the only difference was that one +or two of them were open at a very early hour. But even in them--and +Englishmen were busy in them--there seemed no excitement. Delhi had +found time in a night to catch her breath and continue listening; for, +unlike most big cities that brag with or without good reason, Delhi is +listening nearly all the time. + +A man was listening in the dingiest of all the offices on the ground +floor of a big building on the side away from the street--a man in a +drab silk suit, who twisted a leather watch-guard around his thumb and +untwisted it incessantly. There was a telephone beside him, and a +fair-sized pile of telegraph forms, but beyond that not much to show +what his particular business might be. He did not look aggressive, but +he seemed nervous, for he jumped perceptibly when the telephone-bell +rang; and being a government telephone, with no commercial aims, it did +not ring loud. + +"Yes," he said, with the receiver at his ear. "Yes, yes. Who else? Oh, +I forgot for the moment. Four, three, two, nine, two. Give yours! Very +well, I'm listening." + +Whoever was speaking at the other end had a lot to say, and none of it +can have been expected, for the man in the drab silk suit twisted his +wrinkled face and worked his eyes in a hundred expressions that began +with displeasure and passed through different stages of surprise to +acquiescence. + +"I want you to know," he said, "that I got my information at first +hand. I got it from Yasmini herself, from three of the hill-men who +were present, and from the Afridi who was kicked and beaten. All except +the Afridi, who wasn't there by that time, agreed that Ranjoor Singh +had words with the German afterward. Eh? What's that?" + +He listened again for about five minutes, and then hung up the receiver +with an expression of mixed irritation and amusement. + +"Caught me hopping on the wrong leg this time!" he muttered, beginning +to twist at his watch-guard again. + +Presently he sat up and looked bored, for he heard the fast trot of a +big, long-striding horse. A minute later a high dogcart drew up in the +street, and he heard a man's long--striding footsteps coming round the +corner. + +"Like horse, like man, like regiment!" he muttered. "Pick his stride or +his horse's out of a hundred, and"--he pulled out his nickel +watch--"he's ten minutes earlier than I expected him! Morning, Colonel +Kirby!" he said pleasantly, as Kirby strode in, helmet in hand. "Take a +seat." + +He noticed Kirby's scalp was red and that he smelt more than faintly of +carbolic. + +"Morning!" said Kirby. + +"I'm wondering what's brought you," said the man in drab. + +"I've come about Ranjoor Singh," said Kirby; and the man in drab tried +to look surprised. + +"What about him? Reconsidered yesterday's decision?" + +"No," said Kirby. "I've come to ask what news you have of him." And +Kirby's eye, that some men seemed to think so like a bird's, transfixed +the man in drab, so that he squirmed as if he had been impaled. + +"You must understand, Colonel Kirby--in fact, I'm sure you do +understand--that my business doesn't admit of confidences. Even if I +wanted to divulge information, I'm not allowed to. I stretched a point +yesterday when I confided in you my suspicions regarding Ranjoor Singh, +but that doesn't imply that I'm going to tell you all I know. I asked +you what _you_ knew, you may remember." + +"I told you!" snapped Kirby. "Is Ranjoor Singh still under suspicion?" + +That was a straight question of the true Kirby type that admitted of no +evasion, and the man in drab pulled his watch out, knocking it on the +desk absent-mindedly, as if it were an egg that he wished to crack. He +must either answer or not, it seemed, so he did neither. + +"Why do you ask?" he parried. + +"I've a right to know! Ranjoor Singh's my wing commander, and a better +officer or a more loyal gentleman doesn't exist. I want him! I want to +know where he is! And if he's under a cloud, I want to know why! Where +is he?" + +"I don't know where he is," said the man in drab. "Is he--ah--absent +without leave?" + +"Certainly not!" said Kirby. "I've seen to that!" + +"Then you've communicated with him?" + +"No." + +"Then if his regiment were to march without him--" + +"It won't if I can help it!" said Kirby. + +"And if you can't help it, Colonel Kirby?" + +"In that case he has got what he asked for, and there can be no charge +against him until he shows up." + +"I understand you have your marching orders?" + +"I have sealed orders!" snapped Kirby. + +"To be opened at sea?" + +"To be opened when I see fit!" + +"Oh!" + +"Yes," said Kirby. "I asked you is Ranjoor Singh still under suspicion!" + +"My good sir, I am not the arbiter of Ranjoor Singh's destiny! How +should I know?" + +"I intend to know!" vowed Kirby, rising. + +"I'm prepared to state that Ranjoor Singh is not in danger of arrest. I +don't see that you have right to ask more than that, Colonel Kirby. +Martial law has been declared this morning, and things don't take their +ordinary course any longer, you know." + +Kirby paced once across the office floor, and once back again. Then he +faced the man in drab as a duelist faces his antagonist. + +"I don't like to go over men's heads," he said, "as you threatened to +do to me, for instance, yesterday. If you will give me satisfactory +assurance that Ranjoor Singh is being treated as a loyal officer should +be, I will ask no more. If not, I shall go now to the general +commanding. As you say, there's martial law now, he's the man to see." + +"Colonel Kirby," said the man in drab, twisting at his watch-guard +furiously, "if you'll tell me what's in your sealed orders--open them +and see--I'll tell you what I know about Ranjoor Singh, and we'll call +it a bargain!" + +"I wasn't joking," said Kirby, turning red as his scalp from the roots +of his hair to his collar. + +"I'm in deadly earnest!" said the man in drab. + +So, without a word more, Colonel Kirby hurried out again, carrying his +saber in his left hand at an angle that was peculiar to him, and that +illustrated determination better than words could have done. + +His huge horse plunged away almost before he had gained the seat, and, +saber and all, he gained the seat at a step-and-a-jump. But the sais +was not up behind, and Kirby had scarcely settled down to drive before +the man in drab had the telephone mouthpiece to his lips and had given +his mysterious number again--4-3-2-9-2. + +"He's coming, sir!" he said curtly. + +Somebody at the other end apparently asked, "Who is coming?" for the +man in drab answered: + +"Kirby." + + * * * * * + +Five minutes later Kirby caught a general at breakfast, and was +received with courtesy and feigned surprise. + +"D'you happen to know anything about my risaldar-major, Ranjoor Singh?" +asked Kirby, after a hasty apology for bursting in. + +"Why?" + +"He was under suspicion yesterday--I was told so. Next he disappeared. +Then I received a message from him asking me to assign him to special +duty; that was after I'd more than half believed him burned to death in +a place called the 'House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers.' He has sent some +most extraordinary messages to his squadron by the hand of a mysterious +babu, but not a word of explanation of any kind. Can you tell me +anything about him, sir?" + +"Wasn't a trooper of yours murdered yesterday?" the general asked. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"And another missing?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Did Ranjoor Singh go off to search for the missing man?" + +"I was told so." + +"H-rrrr-ump! Well, I'm glad you came; you've saved me trouble! Did you +put Ranjoor Singh in Orders as assigned to special duty?" + +"Yes." + +"What is the missing trooper's name?" + +"Jagut Singh." + +"Well, please enter him in Orders, too." + +"Special service?" + +"Special service," said the general. "How about Ranjoor Singh's +charger?" + +"I understand that he's been kept well groomed by Ranjoor Singh's +orders, and my adjutant tells me he has the horse in care in his own +stable." + +The general made a note. + +"Whose stable?" lie asked. + +"Warrington's." + +"Warrington, of Outram's Own, eh? Captain Warrington?" + +The general wrote that down, while Kirby watched him bewildered. + +"Well now, Kirby, that'll be all right Have the horse left there, will +you? I hope You've been able to dispose of your own horses to +advantage. Two chargers don't seem a large allowance for a commanding +officer of a cavalry regiment, but that's all you can take with you. +You'll have to leave the rest behind." + +"Haven't given it a thought, sir! Too busy thinking about Ranjoor +Singh. Worried about him." + +"Shouldn't worry!" said the general. "Ranjoor Singh's all right." + +"That's the first assurance I've had of it, except by way of a +mysterious note," said Kirby. + +"By all right, I mean that he isn't in disgrace. But now about your +horses and private effects. You've done nothing about them?" + +"I'll have time to attend to that this afternoon, sir." + +"Oh, no, you won't. That's why I'm glad you came! These"--he gave him a +sealed envelope--"are supplementary orders, to be opened when you get +back to barracks. I want you out of the way by noon if possible. We'll +send a man down this morning to take charge of whatever any of you want +kept, and you'd better tell him to sell the rest and pay the money to +your bankers; he'll be a responsible officer. That's all. Good-by, +Kirby, and good luck!" + +The general held out his hand. + +"One more minute, sir," said Kirby. "About Ranjoor Singh!" + +"What about him?" + +"Well, sir--what about him?" + +"What have you heard?" + +"That--I've heard a sort of promise that he'll be with his squadron, to +lead it, before the blood runs." + +"Won't that be time enough?" asked the general, smiling. He was looking +at Kirby very closely. "Not sick, are you?" he asked. "No? I thought +your scalp looked rather redder than usual." + +Kirby flushed to the top of his collar instantly, and the general +pretended to arrange a sheaf of papers on the table. + +"One reason why you're being sent first, my boy," said the general, +holding out his hand again, "is that you and your regiment are fittest +to be sent. But I've taken into consideration, too, that I don't want +you or your adjutant killed by a cobra in any event. +And--_snf--snf_--the salt sea air gets rid of the smell of musk quicker +than anything. Good-by, Kirby, my boy, and God bless you!" + +"Good-by, sir!" + +Kirby stammered the words, and almost ran down the steps to his waiting +dog-cart. As all good men do, when undeserved ridicule or blame falls +to their lot, he wondered what in the world he could have done wrong. + +He had no blame for anybody, only a fierce resentment of injustice--an +almost savage sense of shame that any one should know about the +adventure of the night before, and a rising sense of joy in his +soldier's heart because he had orders in his pocket to be up and doing. +So, and only so, could he forget it all. + +He whipped up his horse and went down the general's drive at a pace +that made the British sentry at the gate grin from ear to ear with +whole-souled approval. He did not see a fat babu approach the general's +bungalow from the direction of the bazaar. The babu salaamed +profoundly, but Kirby's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, and his +thoughts were already deep in the future. He saw nothing except the +road, until he took the last corner into barracks on one wheel, and +drew up a minute later in front of the bachelor quarters that had +sheltered him for the past four years. + + * * * * * + +"Pack! Campaign kit! One trunk!" he ordered his servant. "Orderly!" + +An orderly ran in from outside. + +"Tell Major Brammle and Captain Warrington to come to me!" + +It took ten minutes to find Warrington, since every job was his, and +nearly every responsibility, until his colonel should take charge of a +paraded, perfect regiment, and lead it away to its fate. He came at +last, however, and on the run, and Brammle with him. + +"Orders changed!" said Kirby. "March at noon! Man'll be here this +morning to take charge of officers' effects. Better have things ready +for him and full instructions. One trunk allowed each officer. Two +chargers." + +"Destination, sir?" asked Brammle. + +"Not disclosed!" + +"Where do we entrain?" asked Warrington. + +"We march out of Delhi. Entrain later, at a place appointed on the +road." + +Warrington began to hum to himself and to be utterly, consciously happy. + +"Then I'll get a move on!" he said, starting to hurry out. +"Everything's ready, but--" + +"Wait a minute!" commanded Kirby; and Warrington remained in the room +after Brammle had left it. + +"You haven't said anything to anybody, of course, about that incident +last night?" + +"No, sir." + +"Then _she_ has!" + +Warrington whistled. + +"Are you sure she has?" + +"Quite. I've just had proof of it!" + +"Makes a fellow reverence the sex!" swore Warrington. + +"It'll be forgotten by the time we're back in India," said Kirby +solemnly. "Remember to keep absolutely silent about it. The best way to +help others forget it is to forget it yourself. Not one word now to +anybody, even under provocation!" + +"Not a word, sir!" + +"All right. Go and attend to business!" + +What "attending to business" meant nobody can guess who has not been in +at the breaking up of quarters at short notice. Everything was ready, +as Warrington had boasted, but even an automobile may "stall" for a +time in the hands of the best chauffeur, and a regiment contains as +many separate human equations as it has men in its ranks. + +The amount of personal possessions that had to be jettisoned, or left +to the tender mercies of a perfunctory agent, would have wrung groans +from any one but soldiers. The last minute details that seemed to be +nobody's job, and that, therefore, all fell to Warrington because +somebody had to see to them, were beyond the imagination of any but an +adjutant, and not even Warrington's imagination proved quite equal to +the task. + +"We're ready, sir!" he reported at last to Kirby. "We're paraded and +waiting. Brammle's inspected 'em, and I've done ditto. There are only +thirteen thousand details left undone that I can't think of, and not +one of 'em's important enough to keep us waitin'!" + +So Kirby rode out on parade and took the regiment's salute. There was +nobody to see them off. There were not even women to wail by the +barrack gate, for they marched away at dinner-time and official lies +had been distributed where they would do most good. + +Englishman and Sikh alike rode untormented by the wails or waving +farewells of their kindred; and there was only a civilian on a white +pony, somewhere along ahead, who seemed to know that they were more +than just parading. He led them toward the Ajmere Gate, and by the time +that the regiment's luggage came along in wagons, with the little +rear-guard last of all, it was too late to run and warn people. +Outram's Own had gone at high noon, and nobody the wiser! + +There was no music as they marched and no talking. Only the jingling +bits and rattling hoofs proclaimed that India's best were riding on a +sudden summons to fight for the "Salt." They marched in the direction +least expected of them, three-quarters of a day before their scheduled +time, and even "Guppy," the mess bull-terrier, who ran under the wagon +with the officers' luggage, behaved as if all ends of the world were +one to him. He waved his tail with dignity and trotted in content. + +Hard by the Ajmere Gate they halted, for some bullock carts had claimed +their centuries-long prerogative of getting in the way. While the +bullocks, to much tail-twisting and objurgation, labored in the mud in +every direction but the right one, Colonel Kirby sat his charger almost +underneath the gate, waiting patiently. Then the advance-guard +clattered off and he led along. + +He never knew where it came from and he never tried to guess. He caught +it instinctively, and kept it for the sake of chivalry, or perhaps +because she had made him think for a moment of his mother. At all +events, the bunch of jasmine flowers that fell into his lap found a +warm berth under his buttoned tunic, and he rode on through the great +gate with a kinder thought for Yasmini than probably she would guess. + +With that resentment gone, he could ride now as suited him, with all +his thoughts ahead, and there lacked then only one thing to complete +his pleasure--he missed Ranjoor Singh. + +It was not that the squadron would lack good leading. An English +officer had taken Ranjoor Singh's place. It was the man he missed--the +decent loyal gentleman who had worked untiringly to sweat a squadron +into shape to Kirby's liking and never once presumed, nor had taken +offense at criticism--the man who had been good enough to understand +the ethics of an alien colonel, and to translate them for the benefit +of his command. It is not easy for a Sikh to rise to the rank of major +and lead a squadron for the Raj. + +He counted Ranjoor Singh his friend, and he knew that Ranjoor Singh +would have given all the rest of his life to ride away now for only one +encounter on a foreign battle-field. Nothing, nothing less than the +word of Ranjoor Singh himself, would ever convince him of the man's +disloyalty. And he would have felt better if he could have shaken hands +with Ranjoor Singh before going, since it seemed to be the order of the +day that the Sikh should stay behind. + +It did not seem quite the thing to be riding away to war with the best +native officer in all India somewhere in Delhi on "special +service"--whatever that might be. + +He was given, as a rule, to smiling at any man who did his best. On any +other day he would have very likely exchanged a joke with the +bullock-man who labored so unavailingly to get the road cleared in a +hurry. But to-day, since his thoughts were of Ranjoor Singh, he paid +the man no attention; he had not even formed a mental picture of him by +the time he passed the gate. + +It was Warrington, cantering up from behind a minute or so later, who +changed the color of the earth and sky. + +"Did you recognize him, sir?" + +"Whom?" + +"Ranjoor Singh!" + +"No! Where?" + +"Not the bullock-man who blocked the road, but the man who ran out from +behind the gate and straightened things out again. That man was Ranjoor +Singh in mufti!" + +"What makes you think so?" + +"I recognized him. So did his squadron--look at them! They're riding +like new men!" + +Kirby looked, and there was no doubt about D Squadron. + +"Is he there still?" he asked. + +"I can see a man standing there--see him? Fellow in white between two +bullock carts?" + +Kirby pulled out to the roadside and let the regiment pass him. Then he +cantered back. The man between the bullock carts had his back turned, +and was gazing toward Delhi under his hand. + +"Ranjoor Singh!" said Kirby, reining suddenly. "Is that you?" + +"Uh?" The man faced about. He was no more Ranjoor Singh than he was +Colonel Kirby. + +"Where is the man who came from behind the gate to clear the road?" + +The man pointed toward the gate. Inside, within the gloom of the gate +itself, Kirby was certain he saw a Sikh who stood at the salute. He +cantered to the gate, for he would have given a year's pay for word +with Ranjoor Singh. But when he reached the gate the man was gone. + +"And he promised he'd be there to lead his squadron when the blood +runs," wondered Kirby. + + + "Now a trap," said the tiger, "is easy to spot," + (Oh, jungli, be seated and listen!) + "Some tempt you with live bait, and others do not;" + (Oh, jungli, be leery and listen!) + "The easiest sort to detect have a door-- + A box, with three walls and a roof and a floor-- + That the veriest, hungriest cub should ignore." + (Oh, jungli, stop laughing and listen!) + "This isn't a trap, as I'll show you, my friend." + But the tiger fell into it. That is the end. + (Oh, jungli, be loving and listen!) + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Ranjoor Singh; on the trail of a murderer, shoved with his whole +strength against a little door of the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers. +It yielded suddenly. He shot in headlong, and the door slammed behind +him. As he fell forward into pitch blackness he was conscious of +shooting bolts behind and of the squeaking of a beam swung into place. + +But, having served the Raj for more years than he wanted to remember, +through three campaigns in the Himalayas, once against the Masudis, and +once in China, he was in full possession of trained soldier senses. +Darkness, he calculated instantly, was a shield to him who can use it, +and a danger only to the unwary; and there are grades of wariness, just +as there are grades of sloth. + +Two men who thought themselves so wide awake as to be beyond the reach +of government, each threw a noosed rope, and caught each other. Ranjoor +Singh could not see the ropes, but he could hear the stifled swearing +and the ensuing struggle; and an ear is as good as an eye in the dark. + +Something--he never knew what--warned him to duck and step forward. He +felt the whistle of a club that missed him by so little as to make the +skin twitch on the back of his neck. + +His right leg shot sidewise, and he tripped a man. In another second he +had the club, and there was no measurable interval of time then before +the darkness was a living miracle of blows that came from everywhere +and missed nothing. + +Three men went down, and Ranjoor Singh was in command of a situation +whose wherefore and possibilities he could not guess until an electric +torch declared itself some twenty feet away, at more than twice his +height, and he stood vignetted in a circle of white light. + +"The sahib proves a gentle guest!" purred a voice he thought he +recognized. It was a woman's. "Has the sahib a pistol with him?" + +Ranjoor Singh, cursing his own neglect of soldierly precaution, saw fit +not to answer. A human arm reached like a snake into the ring of light. +He struck at it with the club, and a groan announced that he had struck +hard enough. + +"Does the sahib think that the noise of a pistol would cause his +friends to come? Is Ranjoor Singh ashamed? Speak, sahib! Is it well to +break into a house and be surly with the hostess?" + +Ranjoor Singh stepped backward, and the ring of light followed him, +until he stood pressed against the teak door and could feel the heavy +beam that ran up and down it, locked firmly above and below. He prodded +over his head behind him with the club, trying to find what held the +beam, and the ring of light lifted a foot or two, then five feet, until +its center was on the center of the club's handle. + +A pistol cracked and flashed then, from behind the light, and the club +splintered. He dropped it, and the torch-light ceased, leaving him +dazed, but not so dazed that he did not hear a man sneak up and carry +the splintered club away. He followed after the man, for he knew now +that he was in a narrow passage and no man could get by him to attack +from behind. + +But again the torch-light sought him out. Half-way to the foot of steep +stairs that he could dimly outline he halted, for advance against +hidden pistol-fire and dazzling light was futile. + +"Look!" said the same soft, woman's voice. "Look, sahib! See, Ranjoor +Singh! the hooded death! See the hooded death behind you!" + +It was not her command that made him look. He knew better than to turn +his head at an unseen woman's bidding in the dark. But he heard them +hiss, and he turned to see four cobras come toward him, with the front +third of their bodies raised from the floor and their hoods extended. +He saw that a panel in the wooden wall had slid, and the last snake's +tail was yet inside the gap. There was no need of a man to slip between +him and the door! + +"There are more in the wall, Ranjoor Singh! Will they follow thee +up-stairs? See, they come! Step swiftly, for the hooded death is swift!" + +The light went out again, and his ears were all he had to warn him of +the snakes' approach--ears and imagination. Swift as a well launched +charge of light cavalry, he leaped for the stairs and took them four at +a time. He reached the top one sooner than he knew it. The torch +flashed in his eyes, and he saw a pistol-mouth just beyond arm-reach. + +"Stand, Ranjoor Singh!" said a voice that he felt sure he recognized. +His eyes began to search beyond the light for glimpses of dim outline. + +"Back, Ranjoor Singh! Back to the right--toward that door! In, through +that door--so!" + +He obeyed, since he knew now with whom he had to deal. There was no +sense at all in taking liberties with Yasmini. He stepped into a bare, +dark, teak-walled room, and she followed him, and she had scarcely +closed the door at her back before another door opened at the farther +end, and two of her maids appeared, carrying candle-lamps. + +"What do you want with me?" demanded Ranjoor Singh. + +"Nay! Did I invite the sahib?" + +"I came about a murderer who entered by that door through which I came." + +"To pay him the reward, perhaps?" she asked impudently. + +"Is this thy house?" asked Ranjoor Singh. + +"This is the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers, sahib." + +"This is a hole where murderers hide! A man of mine was slain in the +street below, and the murderer came in here. Where is he now?" + +"He and the bigger fool who followed him," said Yasmini, poising +herself like a nodding blossom and smiling like the promise of new +love, as she paused to be insolent and let the insolence sink home, +"are at my mercy!" + +Ranjoor Singh did not answer, but she could draw no amusement from his +silence, for his eye was unafraid. + +"I am from the North, where the quality of mercy is thought weakness," +she smiled sweetly. + +"Who asks mercy? I was seen and heard to enter. There will be a hundred +seeking me within an hour!" + +"Sahib, within two hours there will be five thousand around this house, +yet none will seek to enter! And they will find no murderer, though +thou shalt see thy murderer. Come this way, sahib." + +A whiff of warm wind might have blown her, so swiftly, lissomely she +ran toward the other door, laughing back at him across her shoulder and +leaving a trail of aromatic scent. The two maids held their +candle-lanterns high, and, striding like a soldier, Ranjoor Singh +followed Yasmini, not caring that the maids shut the heavy door behind +him and bolted it. He argued to himself that he was as safe in one room +as in another, and she as dangerous; also, that it made no difference +in which room he might be when the squadron or his colonel missed him. + +"Look, Ranjoor Singh! Look through that hole!" + +There was plenty of light in this room, for there was a lantern in +every corner. He could see that she was gazing through a hole in the +wall at something that amused her, and she motioned to another hole +eight feet away from it. He crossed a floor that was solid and age-old; +no two planks of it were of even width or length, but none creaked. + +At her invitation he looked through the little square hole she pointed +out. And then, for the first time, he confessed surprise. + +"Thou, Jagut Singh!" he exclaimed. + +He stepped back, blinked to reassure himself, and stepped to the hole +again. Back to back, tied right hand to right, left hand to left, so +that their arms were crossed behind them, and lashed waist to waist, a +trooper of D Squadron and the Afridi whom lie had kicked at Yasmini's +sat on the floor facing opposite walls. Dumb misery was stamped on the +Sikh's face, the despair of evaporated savagery on the Afridi's. + +"Jagut Singh!" said the risaldar-major, louder this time; and the +trooper looked up, almost as if hope had been that instant born in him. + +"Jagut Singh!" + +The trooper grinned. A white row of ivory showed between his black +beard and mustache. He tried to look sidewise, but the rope that held +him tight to the Afridi hurt his neck. + +"I knew it, sahib!" he shouted. "I knew that one would come for me! +This hill wildcat has fought until the ropes cut both of us; but take +time, sahib! I can wait. Attend to the duty first. Only let him who +comes bring water with him, for this is a thirsty place!" + +Ranjoor Singh looked sidewise. He could see that Yasmini was absorbed +in contemplation of her prisoners. Her little lithe form was pressed +tightly against the wall, less than two yards away. He could guess, and +he had heard a dozen times, that dancing had made her stronger than a +panther and more swift. Yet he thought that if he had her in his arms +he could crush those light ribs until she would yield and order her +prisoner released. The trooper's confidence deserved immediate, not +postponed, reward. + +He watched for a minute. He could see that her bosom rose and fell +regularly against the woodwork; she was all unconscious of her danger, +he was sure of it. He changed his position, and she neither looked nor +moved. He changed it again, so that his weight was all on his left +foot; he was sure she had not noticed. Then he sprang. + +He sprang sidewise, as a horse does that sees a snake by the roadside, +every nerve and sinew keyed to the tightest pitch--eye, ear and +instinct working together. And she, in the same second, turned to meet +him smiling, with outstretched arms, as if she would meet him half-way +and hug him to her bosom, only she stepped a pace backward, instead of +forward as she had seemed to intend. + +He landed where he had meant to, on the spot where she had stood. His +left hand clutched at the wall, and a second too late he made a wild +grab at the hole she had peered through, trying to get his fingers into +it. What she had done he never knew, but the floor she had stood on +yielded, and he heard her laugh as he slipped through the opening like +a tiger into a pit-trap, and fell downward into blackness. + +With a last tremendous effort he caught at the floor and held himself +suspended by his finger-ends. But she came and trod on them, and though +her weight was light, malice made her skilful, and she hurt him until +he had to set his teeth and drop. He would never have believed that +those soft slipper-soles could have given so much pain. + +"Forget not thy trooper in his need!" she called, as he fell away +through the opening. And then the trap shut. + +To his surprise he did not fall very far, and though he landed on an +elbow and a hip, he struck so softly that for a moment he believed he +must be mad, or dead, or dreaming. Then his fingers, numb from +Yasmini's pressure, began to recognize the feel of gunny-bags, and of +cotton-wool, and of paper. Also, he smelled kerosene or something very +like it. + +"Forget not the water for thy trooper, Ranjoor Singh!" + +He looked up to see Yasmini's face framed in the opening, and he +thought there was more devilment expressed in it, for all her +loveliness, than in her voice that never quite lost its hint of +laughter. He did not answer, and the trap-door closed again. + +He knelt and began to grope through the dark on hands and knees, but +gave that up presently because the dust from old sacks and piles of +rubbish began to choke him. Then rats came to investigate him. He heard +several of them scamper close, and one bit his leg; so he made ready to +fight for his life against the worst enemy a man may have, praying a +little in the Sikh way, that does not reckon God to be far off at any +time. + +Suddenly the trap-door opened, and the rats scampered away from the +light and noise. + +"Thus is a soldier answered!" muttered Ranjoor Singh. + +"Is the risaldar-major sahib thirsty?" wondered Yasmini. + +He could hear her pouring water out of a brass ewer into a dish, and +pouring it back again. The metal rang and the water splashed +deliriously, but he was not very thirsty yet; he had been thirstier on +parade a hundred times. + +When her head and shoulders darkened the aperture, he did not trouble +this time to look at her. + +"Is it dark down there?" she asked him; but he did not answer. + +So she struck a match and lit a newspaper. In a moment a ball of fire +was floating downward to him, and it was then that the smell of dust +and kerosene entered his consciousness as pincers enter the flesh of +men in torment. He stood up with hands upstretched to catch the +fire--caught it--bore it downward--and smothered it in gunny-bags. + +"Still dark?" she said, looking through the aperture once more. "I will +send another one!" + +So Ranjoor Singh found his tongue and cursed her with a force and +comprehensiveness that only Asia can command; he gave her to understand +that the next fire she dropped on him should be allowed to work God's +will and burn her--her, her rats, her cobras, and her cutthroats. Two +honest Sikhs, he swore, would die well to such an end. + +"Drop thy fire and I will fan the flame!" he vowed, and she believed +him. + +"I will send my cobras down to keep the sahib company!" she mocked. + +But Ranjoor Singh proposed to take one danger at a time, and he was +quite sure that she wanted him alive, not dead, for otherwise he would +have been dead already. He held his tongue and listened while she +splashed the water. + +"Thy trooper is very thirsty, sahib!" + +She was on a warmer scent now, for that squadron of his and the men of +his squadron were the one love of his warrior life. Some spirit of +malice whispered her as much. + +"The trooper shall have water when Ranjoor Singh sahib has promised on +his Sikh honor." + +"Promised what?" His voice betrayed interest at last; it suggested +future possibilities instead of a grim present. + +"That he will do what is required of him!" + +"Is that the price of a drink for Jagut Singh?" + +"Aye! Will the sahib pay, or will he let the trooper parch?" + +"Ask Jagut Singh! Go, ask him! Let it be as he answers!" + +He could hear her hurry away, although she slammed the trap-door shut. +Evidently she was not satisfied to speak through the little hole, and +he suspected that she was showing the man water, perhaps giving some to +the Afridi for sweet suggestion's sake. She was back within five +minutes, and by the way she opened the trap and grinned at him he knew +what her answer would be. + +"He begs that you promise! He begs, sahib! He says he is thy trooper, +thy dog, thy menial, and very thirsty!" + +"Bring some one who knows better how to lie!" said Ranjoor Singh. "I +_know_ what his answer was! He said, 'Say to the risaldar-major sahib +that I have eaten salt, but I am not thirsty!' Go, tell him his answer +was a good one, and that I know he said it! I know that man, as men +know each other. Thou art a woman, and thy knowledge is but emptiness. +Thou hast heard now twice what the answer is, once from him and once +from me!" + +"I will leave thee to the rats!" she said, slamming the trap-door tight. + +The rats came, and he began to grope about for a weapon to use against +them. He caught one rat in his fingers, squeezed the squealing brute to +death and flung it away, and he heard a hundred of its messmates race +to devour the carcass. + +He began to see little active eyes around him in the blackness, that +watched his every movement, and he kept moving since that seemed to +puzzle them. Also he wondered, as a drowning man might wonder about +things, how long it would be before Colonel Kirby would send for him to +ask about the murdered trooper. Something would happen then, he felt +quite sure. + +The rats by this time had grown very daring, and he had been bitten +again twice; he found time to wonder what lies Yasmini would tell to +account for her share in things. He did not doubt she would lie herself +out of it, but he wondered just how, along what unexpected line. It +began to seem to him that the colonel and his squadron were a very long +time coming. + +"But they will come!" he assured himself. + + * * * * * + +He was nearer to the mark when he expected unexpectedness from Yasmini, +for she did not disappoint him. A door opened at one end of the black +dark cellar, and again the rats scampered for cover as Yasmini herself +stood framed in it, with a lantern above her head. She was alone, and +he could not see that she had any weapon. + +"This way, sahib!" she called sweetly to him. + +Never--North, South, East or West, in olden days or modern--did a siren +call half so seductively. Every move she ever made was poetry +expressed, but framed in a golden aura shed by the lamp, and swaying in +the velvet blackness of the pit's mouth, she was, it seemed to Ranjoor +Singh, as no man had ever yet seen woman. + +"Come, sahib!" she called again; and he moved toward her. + +"Food and water wait! Thy trooper has drunk his fill. Come, sahib!" + +She made no move at all to protect herself from him. She did not lead +into the cavern beyond the door. She waited for him, leaning against +the door-post and smiling as if she and he were old friends who +understood each other. + +"I but tried thee, Ranjoor Singh!" she smiled, looking up into his face +and holding the lantern closer to his eyes, as if she would read behind +them. "Thou art a soldier, and not a buffalo at all! I am sorry that I +called thee buffalo. My heart goes out ever to a brave man, Ranjoor +Singh!" + +He was actually at her side, her clothes touched his, and he could have +flung his arms around her. But it was the move next after that which +seemed obscure. He wondered what her reply would be; and, moving the +lantern a little, she read the hesitation in his eyes--the wavering +between desire for vengeance, a soldierly regard for sex, and mistrust +of her apparent helplessness. And, being Yasmini, she dared him. + +"Like swords I have seen!" she laughed. "Two cutting edges and a point! +Not to be held save by the hilt, eh, Ranjoor Singh? Search me for +weapons first, and then use that dagger in thy hair--I am unarmed!" + +"Lead on!" he commanded in a voice that grated harshly, for it needed +all his willpower to prevent his self-command from giving out. He knew +that behind temptation of any kind there lie the iron teeth of +unexpected consequences. + +She let the lantern swing below her knees and leaned back to laugh at +him, until the cavern behind her echoed as if all the underworld had +seen and was amused. + +"I called thee a buffalo!" she panted. "Nay, I was very wrong! I laugh +at my mistake! Come, Ranjoor Singh!" + +With a swing of the lantern and a swerve of her lithe body, she slipped +out of his reach and danced down an age-old hewn-stone passage, out of +which doors seemed to lead at every six or seven yards; only the doors +were all made fast with iron bolts so huge that it would take two men +to manage them. + +He hurried after her. But the faster he followed the faster she ran, +until it needed little imagination to conceive her a will-o'-the-wisp +and himself a crazy man. + +"Come!" she kept calling to him. "Come!" + +And then she commenced to sing, as if dark passages beneath the Delhi +streets were a fit setting for her skill and loveliness. Ranjoor Singh +had never heard the song before. It was about a tiger who boasted and +fell into a trap. It made him more cautious than he might have been, +and when the darkness began to grow less opaque he slowed into a walk. +Then he stood still, for he could not see her any longer. + +It occurred to him to turn back. But that thought had not more than +crossed his mind when a noose was pulled tight around his legs and a +big sheet, thrown out of the darkness, was wrapped and wrapped about +him until he could neither shout nor move. He knew that they were women +who managed the sheet, because he bit one's finger through it and she +screamed. Then he heard Yasmini's voice close to his ear. + +"Thy colonel sahib and another are outside!" she whispered. "It is not +well to wait here, Ranjoor Singh!" + +Next he felt a great rush of air, and after that the roar of flame was +so unmistakable--although he could feel no heat yet--that he wondered +whether he was to be burned alive. + +"Is it well alight?" asked Yasmini. + +"Yes!" said a maid whose teeth chattered. + +"Good! Presently the fools will come and pour water enough to fill this +passage. Thus none may follow us! Come!" + +Ranjoor Singh was gathered up and carried by frightened women--he could +feel them tremble. For a moment he felt the outer air, and he caught +the shout of a crowd that had seen flames. Then he was thrown face +downward on the floor of some sort of carriage and driven away. + +He lost all sense of direction after a moment, though he did not forget +to count, and by his rough reckoning he was driven through the streets +for about nine minutes at a fast trot. Then the carriage stopped, and +he was carried out again, up almost endless stairs, across a floor that +seemed yet more endless, and thrown into a corner. + +He heard a door slam shut, and almost at the same moment his fingers, +that had never once ceased working, tore a corner of the sheet loose. + +In another minute he was free. + +He threw the sheet from him and looked about, accustoming his eyes to +darkness. Presently, not far from him, he made out the sheeted figure +of another man, who lay exactly as he had done and worked with tired +fingers. He drew the dagger out of his hair and cut the man loose. + +"Jagut Singh!" he exclaimed. + +The trooper stood up and saluted. + +"Who brought thee here?" + +"Women, sahib, in a carriage!" + +"When?" + +"Even now!" + +"Where is that Afridi?" + +"Dead, sahib!" + +"How?" + +"She brought us water in a brass vessel, saying it was by thy orders, +sahib. She cut us loose and gave him water first. Then, while she gave +me to drink the Afridi attacked her, and I slew him with my hands, +tearing his throat out--thus! While the life yet fluttered in him they +threw a sheet over me--and here I am! Salaam, sahib!" + +The trooper saluted again. + +"Who made thee prisoner in the first place?" + +"Hillmen, sahib, at the orders of the Afridi who is now dead. They made +ready to torture me, showing me the knives they would use. But she +came, and they obeyed her, binding the Afridi fast to me. After that I +heard the sahib's voice, and then this happened. That is all, sahib." + +"Well!" said Ranjoor Singh. And for the third time his trooper saw fit +to salute him. + + + Who shall be trusted to carry my trust? + (Hither, and answer me, stranger!) + Slow to give ground be he--swifter to thrust-- + Instant,--yet wary o' danger! + Hand without craftiness, eye without lust, + Lip without flattery! Such an one must + Prove yet his worthiness--yet earn my trust! + (Closer, and answer me, stranger!) + First let me lead him alone, and apart; + There let me feel of his pulse and his heart! + (Hither, and play with me, stranger!) + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Men say Yasmini does not sleep. Of course, that is absurd. None the +less, it is certain she must do much of her plotting in the daytime, +for by night, until after midnight, she is always the Yasmini whom the +Northern gentry know, at home to all comers in her wonderful apartment. + +It is ever a mystery to them how she knows all that is going on in +Delhi, and in India, and in the greater outer world, although they +themselves bring her information that no government could ever suck out +of the silent hills. They know where she keeps her cobras--where the +strong-box is, in which her jewels lie crowded--who run her +errands--and some of her past history, for not even a mongoose is more +inquisitive than a man born in the hills, and Yasmini has many maids. +But none--not even her favorite, most confidential maids--know what is +in the little room that she reaches down a private flight of stairs +that have a steel door at the top. + +She keeps the key to that steel door, and it has, besides, a +combination lock that only she understands. + +Once a very clever hillman, who had been south for an education and had +learned skepticism in addition to the rule of three, undertook to +discover wires leading over roof-tops to that room; but he searched for +a week and did not find them. When his search was over, and all had +done laughing at him, he was found one night with a knife-wound between +his shoulder-blades, and, later still, Yasmini sang a song about him. +None searched for wires after that, and the consensus of opinion still +is that she makes magic in the room below-stairs. + +She sought that room the minute Ranjoor Singh was safely locked in with +his trooper, although her maids reported more than one Northern +gentleman waiting impatiently in the larger of her two reception-rooms +for official information of the war. Government bulletins are regarded +as pure fiction always, unless confirmed by Yasmini. + +And, within five minutes of Ranjoor Singh's release of his trooper from +the sheet, no less a personage than a general officer had thrown aside +other business and had drawn on a cloak of secrecy that not even his +own secretary could penetrate. + +"Closed carriage!" he ordered; and, as though the fire brigade were +doing double duty, a carriage came, and the horses, rump-down, halted +from the gallop outside his door. + +"Pathan turban!" he ordered; and his servant brought him one. + +"Sheepskin cloak!" + +In a moment the upper half of him would have passed in the dark for +that of a rather portly Northern trader. He decided that a rug would do +the rest, and snatched one as he ran for the carriage with the turban +under his arm. He gave no order to the driver other than "Cheloh!" and +that means "Go ahead"; so the driver, who was a Sikh, went ahead as the +guns go into action, asway and aswing, regardless of everything but +speed. + +"Yasmini's!" said the general, at the end of a hundred yards; and the +Sikh took a square, right-angle turn at full gallop with a neatness the +Horse Artillery could not have bettered. There seemed to be no need of +further instructions, for the Sikh pulled up unbidden at the private +door that is to all appearance only a mark on the dirty-looking wall. + +With a rug around his middle, there shot out then what a watching small +boy described afterward as "a fat hill-rajah on his way to be fleeced." +The carriage drove on, for coachmen who wait outside Yasmini's door are +likely to be butts for questions. The door opened without any audible +signal, and the man with the rug around his middle disappeared. + +He had ceased to bear any resemblance to any one but a stout English +general in mess-dress by the time he reached the dark stairhead; and +Yasmini took the precaution of being there alone to meet him. She held, +a candle-lantern. + +"Whom have you?" he demanded. + +They seemed to understand each other--these two. He paid her no +compliments, and she expected none; she made no attempt at all to +flatter him or deceive him. But, being Yasmini, it did not lie in her +to answer straightly. + +"I set a trap and a buffalo blundered into it! He will do better than +any other!" + +"Whom have you?" + +"Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh!" + +The general whistled softly. + +"Of the Sikh Light Cavalry?" he asked. + +"One of Kirby sahib's officers, and a trooper into the bargain!" + +The general whistled again. + +"There were two troopers whom I meant to catch," she said hurriedly, +for it was evident that the general did not at all approve of the turn +affairs had taken. "I had a trap for them at the +House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers, and some hillmen in there ready to +rush out and seize them as they passed. But a fool Afridi murdered one, +and I only got there in the nick of time to save the other's life. I +meant that Ranjoor Singh, who is a buffalo, should be troubled about +his troopers and suspected on his own account, for he and I have a +private quarrel. I did not mean to catch him, or make use of him. But +he walked into the trap. What shall be done with him? Let the sahib say +the word and----" + +Her gesture was inimitable. Not so the gurgle that she gave, for a +man's breath bubbling through the blood of a slit throat makes the same +shuddersome sound exactly. The general took no notice whatever of that, +for wise men of the West understand the East's attempts to scandalize +them. It is the everlasting amusement of Yasmini, and a thousand +others, to pretend that the English are even more blood careless than +themselves, just as it is their practise to build confidently on the +opposite fact. + +"Did _you_ fire the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers?" asked the +general suddenly. "Am I a sweeper?" she retorted. + +"Did you order it done?" + +"Did Jumna rise when the rain came? There were six good cobras of mine +burned alive, to say nothing of the bones of a dead Afridi! Nay, sahib, +I ordered a clear trail left from there to here, connecting me and thee +and Ranjoor Singh to the Germans and a dog of an Afridi murderer. I +left a trail that even the police could follow!" + +"Whose property is that house?" + +"Whose? Ask the lawyers! They have fought about it in the courts until +lawyers own every stick and stone of it, and now the lawyers fight one +another! The government will spend a year now," she laughed, "seeking +whom to fine for the fire. It will be good to see the lawyers run to +cover!" + +"This is a bad business!" said the general sternly; and he used two +words in the native tongue that are thirty times more expressive of +badness as applied to machinations than are the English for them. "The +plan was to kidnap a trooper, or two troopers--to tempt him, or +them--and, should they prove incorruptible, to give them certain work +to do. And what have you done?" + +Yasmini laughed at him--merry, mocking laughter that stung him because +it was so surely genuine. She did not need to tell him in words that +she was not afraid of him; she could laugh in his face and make the +truth sink deeper. + +"And now what will the _burra_ sahib do?" she mocked. "There is war--a +great war--a war of all the world--but Yasmini fired a rat-run and +avenged a murdered Sikh. First let us punish Yasmini! Shall I send for +police to arrest me, _burra_ sahib? Or shall I send a maid in search of +babu Sita Ram that the game may continue?" + +"What do you want Sita Ram for?" + +"Sita Ram is nearly always useful, sahib. He is on a message now. He is +a fool who likes to meddle where he _thinks_ none notice him. Such are +the sort who cost least and work the longest hours. Who, for instance, +sahib, is to balk Kirby sahib when he grows suspicious and begins to +search in earnest for his Ranjoor Singh? He knew that Ranjoor Singh was +at the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers; there was a man on watch +outside. He will come here next, for Ranjoor Singh has been reported to +him as having talked with Germans in my house." + +"Reported by whom?" + +"By the Afridi who is now dead." + +"Who killed the Afridi?" + +"Does the _burra_ sahib think I killed him?" + +"I asked a question!" snapped the general. + +"In the first place, then, Ranjoor Singh, the buffalo, struck the +Afridi with his foot. The Afridi, who was a dog with yellow teeth, went +outside to sing sweet compliments to Ranjoor Singh. Certain Sikhs heard +him--of whom one was the trooper who waits in another room with Ranjoor +Singh--and they beat him nearly to death because, being buffaloes +themselves, they love Ranjoor Singh, who is the greatest buffalo of all. + +"For revenge, the Afridi told tales of Ranjoor Singh, and later knifed +one Sikh trooper who had beaten him. The other trooper followed him +into the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers, where he soon had +opportunity for vengeance. Now the _burra_ sahib knows all. Is it not a +sweet love-story! Now the _burra_ sahib may arrest everybody, and all +will be well!" + +"Where did Ranjoor Singh kick the Afridi?" + +"Here--in my house!" + +"Then he was here?" + +"How else would he kick the man here? Could he send his foot by +messenger?" + +"Was the German here? Did he have word with the German?" + +"Surely. He spoke with him alone. So the Afridi reported him to the +'Rat sahib.'" + +The general frowned. However deeply the military may intrigue, they +neither like nor profess to like civilians who play the same game. + +"If Ranjoor Singh is under suspicion, what is the use of--" + +"Oh, all men are alike!" jeered Yasmini, holding up the light and +looking more impudent than the general had ever seen her--and he had +seen her often, for most of his private information about the regions +north of the Himalayas had come through her in one way or another, and +often enough from her lips direct. "I have said that Ranjoor Singh is a +buffalo! He was born a buffalo--he has been trained to be one by the +British--he likes to be one--and he will die one, with a German bullet +in his belly, unless this business prove too much for him and he dies +of fretting before he can get away to fight! + +"I--look at me, sahib! I have tempted Ranjoor Singh, and he did not +yield a hair! I stood closer to him than I am to you, and his pulse +beat no faster! All he thought of was whether he could crush me and +make me give up my prisoner. + +"Ranjoor Singh is a buffalo of buffaloes--a Jat buffalo of no +imagination and no sense. He is buffalo enough to love the British Raj +and his squadron of Jat farmers with all his stupid Sikh heart! There +_could_ not be a better for the purpose than this Ranjoor Singh! He is +stupid enough, and nearly blunt enough, to be an Englishman. He is just +of the very caliber to fool a German! Trust me, sahib--I, who picked +the man who--" + +"That'll do!" said the general; and Yasmini laughed again like the +tinkling of a silver bell. + +There came then a soft rap on the door. It opened about six inches, and +a maid whispered. + +"Wait!" ordered Yasmini. "Come through! Wait here!" She pulled the maid +through the door to the little back stair-head landing. "Did you hear?" +she hissed excitedly. "She says Kirby sahib has come, and another with +him!" + +She was twitching with excitement. Her fingers clutched the general's +sleeve, and he found himself thinking of his youth. He released her +fingers gently and she spared a giggle for him. + +"Bad business!" said the general again. "Kirby will ask questions and +go away; but the troopers of Ranjoor Singh's squadron will come later, +and they will not go away in such a hurry. You can fool Colonel Kirby +sahib, but you can not fool a hundred troopers!" + +"No?" she purred. She had done thinking and was herself again, impudent +and artful. "I can fool anybody, and any thousand men! I have sent Sita +Ram already with a message to the troopers of Ranjoor Singh's squadron. +The message was supposed to be from him, and it was worded just as he +would have worded it. Presently Sita Ram will come back, when he has +helped himself to payment. Then I can send him with yet another message. + +"Go and put thoughts into the buffalo's head, General sahib, and be +quick! There must be a message--a written message from Ranjoor Singh to +Kirby sahib--and a token--forget not the token, in proof that the +writing is not forged! Forget not the token. There must surely be a +token!" + +She pushed the general forward down a passage, through a series of +doors, and down another passage--halted him while she fitted a strange +native key into a lock--opened another door, and pushed him through. +Then she ran back to her maid. + +"Send somebody to find Sita Ram! Bid him hurry! When he comes, put him +in the small room next the cobras, and let him be shown the cobras +until fear of too much talking has grown greater in him than the love +of being heard! Then let me see him in a mirror, so that I may know +when it is time. Have cobras in a hair-noose ready, close behind where +the sahibs sit, and watch through the hangings for my signal! Both +sahibs will kneel to me. Then watch for another signal, and let all +lights be blown out instantly! Or, if the sahibs do not kneel (though +they _shall!_), then watch yet more closely for a signal which I will +give to extinguish lights. + +"So--now, go! Am I beautiful? Are my eyes bright? Twist me that jasmine +in my hair--so. Now run--I will surprise them through the hangings!" + +So Yasmini surprised Kirby and his adjutant, as has been told, and it +need not be repeated how she humbled the pride of India's army on their +knees. She would have to forego the delight of being Yasmini before she +could handle any situation or plan any coup along ordinary lines, and +Kirby and his adjutant were not the first Englishmen, nor likely to be +the last, to feed her merriment. + +The general, for his part, had--even although pushed without ceremony +through a door--behaved with perfect confidence, for he knew that, +whatever her whim or her sense of humor, or her impudence, Yasmini +would not fail him in the pinch. Even she, whose jest it is to see men +writhe under her hand, has to own somebody her master, and though she +would giggle at the notion of fearing any one man, or any dozen, she +does fear the representative of what she and perhaps a hundred others +call "The Game." For the night, and for the place, the general was that +representative, and however much he might disapprove, he had no doubt +of her. + + * * * * * + +Ranjoor Singh stood aghast at sight of him, and the trooper saluted +like an automaton, since nothing save obedience was any affair of his. + +"Evening, Risaldar-Major!" smiled the general. + +"Salaam, General sahib!" + +"To save time, I will tell you that I know stage by stage how you got +here." + +Ranjoor Singh looked suspicious. For five-and-twenty years he had +watched British justice work, and British justice gives both sides a +hearing; he had not told his own version yet. + +"I know that you have had word in another part of this house with a +German, who pretends to be a merchant but who is really a spy." + +Ranjoor Singh looked even more suspicious. The charge was true, though, +so he did not answer. + +"Your being brought to this house was part of a plan--part of the same +plan that leaves the German still at liberty. You are wanted to take +further part in it." + +"General sahib, am I an officer of the Raj or am I dreaming?" + +Ranjoor Singh had found his tongue at last, and the general noted with +keen pleasure that eye, voice and manner were angry and unafraid. + +"I command a squadron, sahib, unless I have been stricken mad! Since +when is a squadron commander brought face-downward in a carriage out of +rat-traps by a woman to do a general's bidding? That has been my fate +to-night. Now I am wanted to take further part! Is my honor not yet +dirtied enough, General sahib? I will take no further part. I refuse to +obey! I order this trooper not to obey. I demand court martial!" + +"I see I'd better begin with an apology," smiled the general! He was +not trying to pretend he felt comfortable. + +"Nay, sahib! I would accept no apology. It must first be proved to me +that he, who tells me I am wanted to take further part in this rat-hole +treachery, is not a traitor to the Raj! I have read of generals turning +traitors! I have read about Napoleon; I know how his generals behaved +when the sand in his glass seemed run. I am for the Raj in this and in +any other hour! I refuse to obey or to accept apology! Let the +explanation be made me at court martial, with Colonel Kirby sahib +present to bear witness to my character!" + +"As you were!" + +The general's eyes met those of the Sikh officer, and neither could +have told then, or at any other time, what exactly it was that each man +recognized. + +"Ranjoor Singh, when I entered this house ten minutes ago I had no +notion I should find you here. I have served the same 'Salt' with you, +on the same campaigns. I even wear the same medals. In the same house I +am entitled to the same credit. + +"I am here on urgent business for the Raj, and you are here owing to a +grave mistake, which I admit and for which I tender you the most +sincere apology on behalf of the government, but which I can not alter. +I expected to find a trooper here, not necessarily of your regiment, +who should have been waylaid and tempted beyond any doubt as to his +trustworthiness. + +"I received a message that Yasmini had two absolutely honest men ready, +and I came at once to give them their instructions. I ask you to +sacrifice your pride, as we all of us must on occasion, and your +rights, as is a soldier's privilege, and see this business through to a +finish. It is too late to make other arrangements, Ranjoor Singh." + +"Sahib, squadron-leading is my trade! I am not cut out for rat-run +soldiering! I am willing to leave this house and hold my tongue, and to +take this trooper with me and see that he holds his tongue. By nine +tomorrow morning I will have satisfied myself that you are for and not +against the Raj. And having satisfied myself, I and this trooper here +will hold our tongues for ever. _Bass!_" + +The general stood as still on his square foot of floor as did Ranjoor +Singh on his. It was the fact that he did not flinch and did not strut +about, but stood in one spot with his arms behind him that confirmed +Ranjoor Singh in his reading of the general's eye. + +"You may leave the house, then, and take your trooper. I accept your +promise. Before you go, though, I'll tell you something. The ordering +of troops for the front--for France--is in my hands. Your regiment is +slated for to-morrow. But it can't go unless you'll see this through. +The whole regiment will be needed, instead, to mount guard over Delhi." + +"The regiment is to go, sahib, and my squadron, and--and I not? I am +not to go?" + +"That is the sacrifice you are asked to make!" + +"Have I made no sacrifices for the Raj? How has my life been spent? +Sahib----" + +The Sikh's voice broke and he ceased speaking, but the general, too, +seemed at a loss for words. + +"Sahib--do I understand? If I do this--this rat-business, whatever it +is--Colonel Kirby and the regiment go, and another leads my squadron? +And unless I do this, whatever it is, the regiment will not go?" + +The general nodded. He felt and looked ashamed. + +"Has war been declared, sahib?" + +"Yes. Germany has invaded Belgium." + +For a second the Sikh's eyes blazed, but the fire died down again. He +clasped his hands in front of him and hung his head. "I will do this +thing that I am asked to do," he said; but his words were scarcely +audible. His trooper came a step closer, to be nearer to him in his +minute of acutest agony. + +"Thou and I, Jagut Singh! We both stay behind!" + +"Now, Risaldar-Major, I want you to listen! You've promised like a +man," said the general. "I'll make you the best promise I can in +return. Mine's conditional, but it's none the less emphatic. If +possible, you shall catch your regiment before it puts to sea. If +that's impossible, you shall take passage on another ship and try to +overtake it. If that again is impossible, you shall follow your +regiment and be in France in time to lead your squadron. I think I may +say you are sure to be there before the regiment goes into action. But, +understand--I said, 'If possible!'" + +Ranjoor Singh's eye brightened and he straightened perceptibly. + +"This trooper, sahib----" + +"My promise is for him as well." + +"We accept, sahib! What is the duty?" + +"First, write a note to Colonel Kirby--I'll see that it's +delivered--asking him to put your name in Orders as assigned to special +duty. Here's paper and a fountain pen." + +"Why should all this be secret from Colonel Kirby?" asked Ranjoor +Singh. "There is no wiser and no more loyal officer!" + +"Nor any officer more pugnacious on his juniors' account, I assure you! +I can't imagine his agreeing to the use I'm making of you. I've no time +to listen to his protests. Write, man, write!" + +"Give me the paper and the pen, sahib!" + +Ranjoor Singh wrote by the light of a flickering oil lamp, using his +trooper's shoulder for support. He passed the finished note back to the +general. + +"Now some token, please, Risaldar-Major, that Colonel Kirby will be +sure to recognize--something to prove that the note is not forged." + +Ranjoor Singh pulled a ring from his finger and held it out. + +"Colonel Kirby sahib gave me this," he said simply. + +"Thanks. Shake hands, will you? I've been talking to a man to-night--to +two men--if I ever did in my life! I shall go now and give this letter +to somebody to deliver to Colonel Kirby, and I shall not see you again +probably until all this is over. Please do what Yasmini directs until +you hear from me or can see for yourself that your task is finished. +Depend on me to remember my promise!" + +Ranjoor Singh saluted, military-wise, although he was not in uniform. +The general answered his salute and left the room, to be met by a maid, +who took the note and the ring from him. Five minutes later, with his +rough disguise resumed, the general hunted about among the shadows of +the neighboring streets until he had found his carriage. He recognized, +but was not recognized by, the risaldar on the box-seat of Colonel +Kirby's shay. + + + Teeth of a wolf on a whitened bone, + What do the splinters say? + Scent of a sambur, up and gone, + Where will he stand at bay? + Sparks in the whirl of a hurrying wind. + Who was it laid the light? + Mischief, back of a woman's mind, + Why do the thoughtless fight? + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Black smoke still billowed upward from the gutted +House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers, and although there were few stars +visible, a watery moon looked out from between dark cloudracks and +showed up the smoke above the Delhi roofs. Yasmini picked the right +simile as usual. It looked as if the biggest genie ever dreamed of must +be hurrying out of a fisherman's vase. + +"And who is the fisherman?" she laughed, for she is fond of that sort +of question that sets those near her thinking and disguises the trend +of her own thoughts as utterly as if she had not any. + +"The genie might be the spirit of war!" ventured a Baluchi, forgetting +the one God of his Koran in a sententious effort to please Yasmini. + +She flashed a glance at him. + +"Or it might be the god of the Rekis," she suggested; and everybody +chuckled, because Baluchis do not relish reference to their lax +religious practise any more than they like to be called "desert +people." This man was a Rind Baluch of the Marri Hills, and proud of +it; but pride is not always an asset at Yasmini's. + +They--and the police would have dearly loved to know exactly who "they" +were--stood clustered in Yasmini's great, deep window that overlooks +her garden--the garden that can not be guessed at from the street. +There was not one of them who could have explained how they came to +assemble all on that side of the room; the movement had seemed to +evolve out of the infinite calculation that everybody takes for +granted, and Moslems particularly, since there seems nothing else to do +about it. + +It did not occur to anybody to credit Yasmini with the arrangement, or +with the suddenly aroused interest in smoke against the after-midnight +sky. Yet, when another man entered whose disguise was a joke to any +practised eye--and all in the room were practised--it looked to the +newcomer almost as if his reception had been ready staged. + +He was dressed as a Mohammedan gentleman. But his feet, when he stood +still, made nearly a right angle to each other, and his shoulders had +none of the grace that goes with good native breeding; they were proud +enough, but the pride had been drilled in and cultivated. It sat +square. And if a native gentleman had walked through the streets as +this man walked, all the small boys of the bazaars would have followed +him to learn what nation his might be. + +Yasmini seemed delighted with him. She ran toward him, curtsied to him, +and called him _bahadur_. She made two maids bring a chair for him, and +made them set it near the middle of the window whence he could see the +smoke, pushing the men away on either side until he had a clear view. + +But he knew enough of the native mind, at all events, to look at the +smoke and not remark on it. It was so obvious that he was meant to talk +about the smoke, or to ask about it, that even a German Orientalist +understanding the East through German eyes had tact enough to look in +silence, and so to speak, "force trumps." + +And that again, of course, was exactly what Yasmini wanted. Moreover, +she surprised him by not leading trumps. + +"They are here," she said, with a side-wise glance at the more than +thirty men who crowded near the window. + +The German--and he made no pretense any longer of being anything but +German--sat sidewise with both hands on his knees to get a better view +of them. He scanned each face carefully, and each man entertained a +feeling that he had been analyzed and ticketed and stood aside. + +"I have seen all these before," he said. "They are men of the North, +and good enough fighters, I have no doubt. But they are not what I +asked for. How many of these are trained soldiers? Which of these could +swing the allegiance of a single native regiment. It is time now for +proofs and deeds. The hour of talk is gone. Bring me a soldier!" + +"These also say it is all talk, sahib--words, words, words! They say +they will wait until the fleet that has been spoken of comes to bombard +the coast. For the present there are none to rally round." + +"Yet you hinted at soldiers!" said the German. "You hinted at a +regiment ready to revolt!" + +"Aye, sahib! I have repeated what _these_ say. When the soldier comes +there shall be other talk! See yonder smoke, _bahadur?_" + +Now, then, it was time to notice things, and the German gazed over the +garden and Delhi walls and roofs at what looked very much more +important than it really was. It looked as if at least a street must be +on fire. + +"He made that holocaust, did the soldier!" + +Yasmini's manner was of blended awe and admiration. + +"He was suspected of disloyalty. He entered that house to make +arrangements for the mutiny of a whole regiment of Sikhs, who are not +willing to be sent to fight across the sea. He was followed to the +house, and so, since he would not be taken, he burned all the houses. +Such, a man is he who comes presently. Did the sahib hear the mob roar +when the flames burst out at evening? No? A pity! There were many +soldiers in the mob, and many thousand discontented people!" + +She went close to the window, to be between the German and the light, +and let him see her silhouetted in an attitude of hope awakening. She +gazed at the billowing smoke as if the hope of India were embodied in +it. + +"It was thus in 'fifty-seven," she said darkly. "Men began with +burnings!" + +Brown eyes, behind the German, exchanged glances, for the East is chary +of words when it does not understand. The German nodded, for he had +studied history and was sure he understood. + +"Sahib _hai_!" said a sudden woman's voice, and Yasmini started as if +taken by surprise. There were those in the room who knew that when +taken by surprise she never started; but they were not German. "He is +here!" she whispered; and the German showed that he felt a crisis had +arrived. He settled down to meet it like a soldier and a man. + +"Salaam!" purred Yasmini in her silveriest voice, as Ranjoor Singh +strode down the middle of the room with the dignity the West may some +day learn. + +"See!" whispered Yasmini. "He trusts nobody. He brings his own guard +with him!" + +By the door at which he had entered stood a trooper of D Squadron, +Outram's Own, no longer in uniform, but dressed as a Sikh servant. The +man's arms were folded on his breast. The rigidity, straight stature, +and attitude appealed to the German as the sight of sea did to the +ancient Greeks. + +"Salaam!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +The German noticed that his eyes glowed, but the rest of him was all +calm dignity. + +"We have met before," said the German, rising. "You are the Sikh with +whom I spoke the other night--the Sikh officer--the squadron leader!" + +_"Ja!"_ said Ranjoor Singh; and the one word startled the German so +that he caught his breath. + +_"Sie sprechen Deutsch?"_ + +_"Ja wohl!"_ + +The German muttered something half under his breath that may have been +meant for a compliment to Ranjoor Singh, but the risaldar-major missed +it, for he had stepped up to the nearest of the Northern gentlemen and +confronted him. There was a great show of looking in each other's eyes +and muttering under the breath some word and counter-word. Each made a +sign with his right hand, then with his left, that the German could not +see, and then Ranjoor Singh stepped side wise to the next man. + +Man by man, slowly and with care, he looked each man present in the +eyes and tested him for the password, while Yasmini watched admiringly. + +"Any who do not know the word will die to-night!" she whispered; and +the German nodded, because it was evident that the Northerners were +quite afraid. He approved of that kind of discipline. + +"These are all true men--patriots," said Ranjoor Singh, walking back to +him. "Now say what you have to say." + +"_Jetzt_----" began the German. + +"Speak Hindustani that they all may understand," said Ranjoor Singh; +and the others gathered closer. + +"My friend, I am told----" + +But Yasmini broke in, bursting between Ranjoor Singh and the German. + +"Nay, let the sahibs go alone into the other room. Neither will speak +his mind freely before company--is it not so? Into the other room, +sahibs, while we wait here!" + +Ranjoor Singh bowed, and the German clicked his heels together. Ranjoor +Singh made a sign, but the German yielded precedence; so Ranjoor Singh +strode ahead, and the German followed him, wishing to high Heaven he +could learn to walk with such consummate grace. As they disappeared +through the jingling bead-curtain, the Sikh trooper followed them, and +took his stand again with folded arms by the door-post. The German saw +him, and smiled; he approved of that. + +Then Yasmini gathered her thirty curious Northerners together around +her and proceeded to entertain them while the plot grew nearer to its +climax in another room. She led them back to the divans by the inner +wall. She set them to smoking while she sang a song to them. She +parried their questions with dark hints and innuendoes that left them +more mystified than ever; yet no man would admit he could not +understand. + +And then she danced to them. She danced for an hour, to the wild minor +music that her women made, and she seemed to gather strength and +lightness as the night wore on. Near dawn the German and Ranjoor Singh +came out together, to find her yet dancing, and she ceased only to pull +the German aside and speak to him. + +"Does he _really_ speak German?" she whispered. + +"He? He has read Nietzsche and von Bernhardi in the German!" + +"Who are they?" + +"They are difficult to read--philosophers." + +"Has he satisfied you?" + +"He has promised that he will." + +"Then go before I send the rest away!" + +So the German tried to look like a Mohammedan again, and went below to +a waiting landau. Before he was half-way down the stairs Yasmini's +hands gripped tight on Ranjoor Singh's forearms and she had him backed +into a corner. + +"Ranjoor Singh, thou art no buffalo! I was wrong! Thou are a great man, +Ranjoor Singh!" + +She received no answer. + +"What hast thou promised him?" + +"To show him a mutinous regiment of Sikhs." + +"And what has he promised?" + +"To show me what we seek." + +She nodded. + +"Good!" she said. + +"So now I promise thee something," said Ranjoor Singh sternly. +"To-morrow--to-day--I shall eat black shame on thy account, for this is +thy doing. Later I will go to France. Later again, I will come back +and--" + +"And love me as they all do!" laughed Yasmini, pushing him away. + + + If I must lie, who love the truth, + (And honour bids me lie), + I'll tell a lordly lie forsooth + To be remembered by. + If I must cheat, whose fame is fair, + And fret my fame away, + I'll do worse than the devil dare + That men may rue the day! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Beyond question Yasmini is a craftsman of amazing skill, and her +genius--as does all true genius--extends to the almost infinite +consideration of small details. The medium in which she works--human +weakness--affords her unlimited opportunity; and she owns the trick, +that most great artists win, of not letting her general plan be known +before the climax. Neither friend nor enemy is ever quite sure which is +which until she solves the problem to the enemy's confusion. + +But Yasmini could have failed in this case through overmuch finesse. +She was not used to Germans, and could not realize until too late that +her compliance with this man's every demand only served to make him +more peremptory and more one-sided in his point of view. From a mere +agent, offering the almost unimaginable in return for mere promises, he +had grown already into a dictator, demanding action as a prelude to +reward. He had even threatened to cause her, Yasmini, to be reported to +the police unless she served his purpose better! + +If she had obeyed the general and had picked a trooper for the business +in hand, it is likely that Yasmini would have had to write a failure to +her account. She had come perilously near to obedience on this +occasion, and it had been nothing less than luck that put Ranjoor Singh +into her hands, luck being the pet name of India's kindest god. Ranjoor +Singh was needed in the instant when he came to bring the German back +to earth and a due sense of proportion. + +The Sikh had a rage in his heart that the German mistook for zeal and +native ferocity; his manners became so brusk under the stress of it +that they might almost have been Prussian, and, met with its own +reflection, that kind of insolence grows limp. + +Having agreed to lie, Ranjoor Singh lied with such audacity and so much +skill that it would have needed Yasmini to dare disbelieve him. + +The German sat in state near Yasmini's great window and received, one +after another, liars by the dozen from the hills where lies are current +coin. Some of them had listened to his lectures, and some had learned +of them at second hand; every man of them had received his cue from +Yasmini. There was too much unanimity among them; they wanted too +little and agreed too readily to what the German had to say; he was +growing almost suspicious toward half-past ten, when Ranjoor Singh came +in. + +There was no trooper behind him this time, for the man had been sent to +watch for the regiment's departure, and to pounce then on Bagh, the +charger, and take him away to safety. After the charger had been +groomed and fed and hidden, the trooper was to do what might be done +toward securing the risaldar-major's kit; but under no condition was +the kit to have precedence. + +"Groom him until he shines! Guard him until I call for him! Keep him +exercised!" was the three-fold order that sang through the trooper's +head and overcame astonishment in the hurry to obey. + +Now it was the German's turn to be astonished. Ranjoor Singh strode in, +dressed as a Sikh farmer, and frowned down Yasmini's instant desire to +poke fun at him. The German rose to salute him, and the Sikh +acknowledged the salute with a nod such as royalty might spare for a +menial. + +"Come!" he said curtly, and the German followed him out through the +door to the stair-head where so many mirrors were. There Ranjoor Singh +made quite a little play of making sure they were not overheard, while +the German studied his own Mohammedan disguise from twenty different +angles. + +"Too much finery!" growled Ranjoor Singh. "I will attend to that. +First, listen! Other than your talk, I have had no proof at all of you! +You are a spy!" + +"I am a--" + +"You are a spy! All the spies I ever met were liars from the ground up! +I am a patriot. I am working to save my country from a yoke that is +unbearable, and I _must_ deal in subterfuge and treachery if I would +win. But you are merely one who sows trouble. You are like the little +jackal--the dirty little jackal--who starts a fight between two tigers +so that he may fill his mean belly! Don't speak--listen!" + +The German's jaw had dropped, but not because words rushed to his lips. +He seemed at a loss for them. + +"You made me an offer, and I accepted it," continued Ranjoor Singh. "I +accepted it on behalf of India. I shall show you in about an hour from +now a native regiment--one of the very best native regiments, so +mutinous that its officers must lead it out of Delhi to a camp where it +will be less dangerous and less likely to corrupt others." + +The German nodded. He had asked no more. + +"Then, if you fail to fulfill your part," said Ranjoor Singh grimly, "I +shall lock you in the cellar of this house, where Yasmini keeps her +cobras!" + +_"Vorwarts!"_ laughed the German, for there was conviction in every +word the Sikh had said. "I will show you how a German keeps his +bargain!" + +"A German?" growled Ranjoor Singh. "A German--Germany is nothing to me! +If Germany can pick the bones I leave, what do I care? One does not +bargain with a spy, either; one pays his price, and throws him to the +cobras if he fail! Come!" + +The question of precedence no longer seemed to trouble Ranjoor Singh; +he turned his back without apology, and as the German followed him +down-stairs there came a giggle from behind the curtains. + +"Were we overheard?" he asked. + +But Ranjoor Singh did not seem to care any more, and did not trouble to +answer him. + +Outside the door was a bullock-cart, of the kind in which women make +long journeys, with a painted, covered super-structure. The German +followed Ranjoor Singh into it, and without any need for orders the +Sikh driver began to twist the bullocks' tails and send them along at +the pace all India loves. Then Ranjoor Singh began to pay attention to +the German's dress, pulling off his expensive turban and replacing that +and his clothes with cheaper, dirtier ones. + +"Why?" asked the German. + +"I will show you why," said Ranjoor Singh. + +Then they sat back, each against a side of the cart, squatting native +style. + +"This regiment that I will show you is mine," said Ranjoor Singh. "I +command a squadron of it--or, rather, did, until I became suspected. +Every man in the regiment is mine, and will follow me at a word. When I +give the word they will kill their English officers." + +He leaned his head out of the opening to spit; there seemed something +in his mouth that tasted nasty. + +"Why did they mutiny?" asked the German. + +"Ordered to France!" said Ranjoor Singh, with lowered eyes. + +For a while there was silence as the cart bumped through the muddy +rutty streets; the only sound that interfered with thought was the +driver's voice, apostrophizing the bullocks; and the abuse he poured on +them was so time-honored as to be unnoticeable, like the cawing of the +city crows. + +"It is strange," said the German, after a while. "For years I have +tried to get in touch with native officers. Here and there I have found +a Sepoy who would talk with me, but you are the first officer." He was +brown-studying, talking almost to himself. He did not see the curse in +the risaldar-major's eyes. + +"I have found plenty of merchants who would promise to finance revolt, +and plenty of hillmen who would promise anything. But all said, 'We +will do what the army does!' And I could not find in all this time, +among all those people, anybody to whom I dared show what +we--Germany--can do to help. I have seen from the first it was only +with the aid of the army that we could accomplish anything, yet the +army has been unapproachable. How is it that you have seemed so loyal, +all of you, until the minute of war?" + +Ranjoor Singh spat again through the opening with thoroughness and +great deliberation. Then he proceeded to give proof that, as Yasmini +had said, he was really not a buffalo at all. A fool would have taken +chances with any one of a dozen other explanations. Ranjoor Singh, with +an expression that faintly suggested Colonel Kirby, picked the right, +convincing one. + +"The English are not bad people," he said simply. "They have left India +better than they found it. They have been unselfish. They have treated +us soldiers fairly and honorably. We would not have revolted had the +opportunity not come, but we have long been waiting for the opportunity. + +"We are not madmen--we are soldiers. We know the value of mere words. +We have kept our plans secret from the merchants and the hillmen, +knowing well that they would all follow our lead. If you think that +you, or Germany, have persuaded us, you are mistaken. You could not +persuade me, or any other true soldier, if you tried for fifty years! + +"It is because we had decided on revolt already that I was willing to +listen to your offer of material assistance. We understand that Germany +expects to gain advantage from our revolt, but we can not help that; +that is incidental. As soldiers, we accept what aid we can get from +anywhere!" + +"So?" said the German. + +_"Ja!"_ said Ranjoor Singh. "And that is why, if you fail me, I shall +give you to Yasmini's cobras!" + +"You will admit," said the German, "when I have shown you, that +Germany's foresight has been long and shrewd. Your great chance of +success, my friend, like Germany's in this war, depends on a sudden, +swift, tremendous success at first; the rest will follow as a logical +corollary. It is the means of securing that first success that we have +been making ready for you for two years and more." + +"You should have credit for great secrecy," admitted Ranjoor Singh. +"Until a little while ago I had heard nothing of any German plans." + +"Russia got the blame for what little was guessed at!" laughed the +German. + +"Oh!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +A little before midday they reached the Ajmere Gate, and the lumbering +cart passed under it. At the farther side the driver stopped his oxen +without orders, and Ranjoor Singh stepped out, looking quickly up and +down the road. There were people about, but none whom he chose to favor +with a second glance. + +Close by the gate, almost under the shadow of it, and so drab and dirty +as to be almost unnoticeable, there was a little cotton-tented booth, +with a stock of lemonade and sweetmeats, that did interest him. He +looked three times at it, and at the third look a Mohammedan wriggled +out of it and walked away without a word. + +"Come!" commanded Ranjoor Singh, and the German got out of the cart, +looking not so very much unlike the poor Mohammedan who had gone away. + +"Get in there!" The German slipped into the real owner's place. So far +as appearances went, he was a very passable sweetmeat and lemonade +seller, and Ranjoor Singh proved competent to guard against +contingencies. + +He picked a long stick out of the gutter and took his stand near by, +frowning as he saw a carriage he suspected to be Yasmini's drive under +the gate and come to a stand at the roadside, fifty or sixty yards away. + +"If the officers should recognize me," he growled to the German, though +seeming not to talk to him at all, "I should be arrested at once, and +shot later. But the men _will_ recognize me, and you shall see what you +shall see!" + +Three small boys came with a coin to spend, but Ranjoor Singh drove +them away with his long stick; they argued shrilly from a distance, and +one threw a stone at him, but finally they decided he was some new sort +of plain-clothes "constabeel," and went away. + +One after another, several natives came to make small purchases, but, +not being boys any longer, a gruff word was enough to send them +running. And then came the clatter of hoofs of the advance-guard, and +the German looked up to see a fire in Ranjoor Singh's eyes that a caged +tiger could not have outdone. + +All this while the bullock-cart in which they had come remained in the +middle of the road, its driver dozing dreamily on his seat and the +bullocks perfectly content to chew the cud. At the sound of the hoofs +behind him, the driver suddenly awoke and began to belabor and kick his +animals; he seemed oblivious of another cart that came toward him, and +of a third that hurried after him from underneath the gate. + +In less than sixty seconds all three carts were neatly interlocked, and +their respective drivers were engaged in a war of words that beggared +Babel. + +The advance-guard halted and added words to the torrent. Colonel Kirby +caught up the advance-guard and halted, too. + +"Does he look like a man who commands a loyal regiment?" asked Ranjoor +Singh; and the German studied the bowed head and thoughtful angle of a +man who at that minute was regretting his good friend the +risaldar-major. + +"You will note that he looks chastened!" + +The German nodded. + +In his own good time Ranjoor Singh ran out and helped with that long +stick of his to straighten out the mess; then in thirty seconds the +wheels were unlocked again and the carts moving in a hurry to the +roadside. The advance-guard moved on, and Kirby followed. Then, troop +by troop, the whole of Outram's Own rode by, and the German began to +wonder. It seemed to him that the rest of the officers were not demure +enough, although he admitted to himself that the enigmatic Eastern +faces in the ranks might mean anything at all. He noted that there was +almost no talking, and he took that for a good sign for Germany. + +D Squadron came last of all, and convinced him. They rode regretfully, +as men who missed their squadron leader, and who, in spite of a message +from him, would have better loved to see him riding on their flank. + +But Ranjoor Singh stepped out into the road, and the right-end man of +the front four recognized him. Not a word was said that the German +could hear, but he could see the recognition run from rank to rank and +troop to troop, until the squadron knew to a man; he saw them glance at +Ranjoor Singh, and from him to one another, and ride on with a new +stiffening and a new air of "now we'll see what comes of it!" + +It was as evident, to his practised eye, that they were glad to have +seen Ranjoor Singh, and looked forward to seeing him again very +shortly, as that they were in a mood for trouble, and he decided to +believe the whole of what the Sikh had said on the strength of the +obvious truth of part of it. + +"Watch now the supply train!" growled Ranjoor Singh, as the wagons +began to rumble by. + +The German had no means of knowing that the greater part of the +regiment's war provisions had gone away by train from a Delhi station. +The wagons that followed the regiment on the march were a generous +allowance for a regiment going into camp, but not more than that. The +spies whose duty it was to watch the railway sidings reported to +somebody else and not to him. + +Ranjoor Singh beckoned him after a while, and they came out into the +road, to stand between two of the bullock-wagons and gaze after the +regiment. The shuttered carriage that Ranjoor Singh had suspected to be +Yasmini's passed them again, and the man beside the driver said +something to Ranjoor Singh in an undertone, but the German did not hear +it; he was watching the colonel and another officer talking together +beside the road in the distance. The shuttered carriage passed on, but +stopped in the shadow of the gate. + +"Look!" said the German. "I thought that officer--the adjutant, isn't +he--recognized you. Now he is pointing you out to the colonel! Look!" + +Ranjoor Singh did look, and he saw that Colonel Kirby was waiting to +let the regiment go by. He knew what was passing through Kirby's mind, +since it is given to some men, native and English, to have faith in +each other. And he knew that there was danger ahead of him through +which he might not come with his life, perhaps even with his honor. He +would have given, like Kirby, a full year's pay for a hand-shake then, +and have thought the pay well spent. + +Kirby began to canter back. + +"He has recognized you!" said the German. + +"And he is coming to cut me down!" swore Ranjoor Singh. + +He dragged the German back behind the nearest cart, and together they +ran for the gloom of the big gate, leaving the driver of the +bullock-cart standing at gaze where Ranjoor Singh had stood. The door +of the shuttered carriage flew open as they reached it, and Ranjoor +Singh pushed the German in. He stood a moment longer, with his foot on +the carriage step, watching Colonel Kirby; he watched him question the +bullock-cart driver. + +Then a voice that he recognized said, "Buffalo!" and he followed into +the carriage, shutting the door behind him. + +The carriage was off almost before the door slammed. + + * * * * * + +"Am I to be kept waiting for a week, while a Jat farmer gazes at cattle +on the road?" demanded Yasmini, sitting forward out of the darkest +corner of the carriage and throwing aside a veil. "He cares nothing for +thee!" she whispered. "Didst thou see the jasmine drop into his lap +from the gate? That was mine! Didst thou see him button it into his +tunic? So, Ranjoor Singh! That for thy colonel sahib! And his head will +smell of _my_ musk for a week to come! What--what fools men are! +_Jaldee, jaldee!"_ she called to the driver through the shutters, and +the man whipped up his pair. + +It was more than scandalous to be driven through Delhi streets in a +shuttered carriage with a native lady, and even the German's presence +scarcely modified the sensation; the German did not appreciate the +rarity of his privilege, for he was too busy staring through the +shutters at a world which tried its best to hide excitement; but +Ranjoor Singh was aware all the time of Yasmini's mischievous eyes and +of mirth that held her all but speechless. He knew that she would make +up tales about that ride, and would have told them to half of India to +his enduring shame before a year was out. + +"Are you satisfied?" she asked the German, after a long silence. + +"Of what?" asked the German. + +"That Ranjoor Singh sahib can do what he has promised." + +The German laughed. + +"I have an excuse for doing what I promised," he said, "if that is what +you mean." + +"That regiment," said Ranjoor Singh, since he had made up his mind to +lie thoroughly, "will camp a day's march out of Delhi. The men will +wait to hear from me for a day or two, but after that they will mutiny +and be done with it; the men are almost out of hand with excitement." + +"You mean--" + +The German's eyebrows rose, and his light-blue eyes sought Ranjoor +Singh's. + +"I mean that now is the time to do your part, that I may continue doing +mine!" he answered. + +"What I have to offer would be of no use without the regiment to use +it," said the German. "Let the regiment mutiny, and I will lead you and +it at once to what I spoke of." + +"No," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"What then?" + +"It does not suit my plan, or my convenience, that there should be any +outbreak until I myself have knowledge of all my resources. When +everything is in my hand, I will strike hard and fast in my own good +time." + +"You seem to forget," said the German, "that the material aid I offer +is from Germany, and that therefore Germany has a right to state the +terms. Of course, I know there are the cobras, but I am not afraid of +them. Our stipulation is that there shall be at least a show of fight +before aid is given. If the cobras deal with me, and my secret dies +with me, there will be one German less and that is all. That regiment I +have seen looks ripe for mutiny." + +Ranjoor Singh drew breath slowly through set teeth. + +"Let it mutiny," said the German, "and I am ready with such material +assistance as will place Delhi at its mercy. Delhi is the key to India!" + +"It shall mutiny to-night!" said Ranjoor Singh abruptly. + +The German stared hard at him, though not so hard as Yasmini; the chief +difference was that nobody could have told she was staring, whereas the +German gaped. + +"It shall mutiny to-night, and you shall be there! You shall lead us +then to this material aid you promise, and after that, if it all turns +out to be a lie, as I suspect, we will talk about cobras." + +For a minute, two minutes, three minutes, while the rubber tires bumped +along the road toward Yasmini's, the German sat in silence, looking +straight in front of him. + +"Order horses for him and me!" commanded Ranjoor Singh; and Yasmini +bowed obedience. + +"When will you start?" the German asked. + +"Now! In twenty minutes! We will follow the regiment and reach camp +soon after it." + +"I must speak first with my colleagues," said the German. + +"No!" growled the Sikh. + +"My secret information is that several regiments are ordered oversea. +Some of them will consent to go, my friend. We will do well to wait +until as many regiments as possible are on the water, and then strike +hard with the aid of such as have refused to go." + +The carriage drew up at Yasmini's front door, and a man jumped off the +box seat to open the carriage. + +"Say the rest inside!" she ordered. "Go into the house! Quickly!" + +So the German stepped out first, moving toward the door much too spryly +for the type of street merchant he was supposed to be. + +"Do you mean that?" whispered Yasmini, as she pushed past Ranjoor +Singh. "Do you mean to ride away with him and stage a mutiny? How can +you?" + +"She-buffalo!" he answered, with the first low laugh she had heard from +him since the game began. + +She ran into the house and all the way up the two steep flights of +stairs, laughing like a dozen peals of fairy bells. + +At the head of the stairs she began to sing, for she looked back and +saw babu Sita Ram waddling wheezily up-stairs after Ranjoor Singh and +the German. + +"The gods surely love Yasmini!" she told her maids. "Catch me that babu +and bottle him! Drive him into a room where I can speak with him alone!" + +"Oh, my God, my God!" wailed the babu at the stair-head from amid a +maze of women who hustled and shoved him all one way, and that the way +he did not want to go. "I must speak with that German gentleman who was +giving lecture here--must positivelee give him warning, or all his +hopes will be blasted everlastinglee! No--that is room where are +cobras--I will not go there!" + +In three native languages, one after the other, he pleaded and wailed +to no good end; the women were too many for him. He was shoved into a +small room as a fat beast is driven into a slaughter-stall, and a door +was slammed shut on him. He screamed at an unexpected voice from behind +a curtain, and a moment later burst into a sweat from reaction at the +sight of Yasmini. + +"Listen, _babuji,_" she purred to him. + +"Who was that man asking for me?" demanded the German. + +"How should I know?" snorted Ranjoor Singh. "Are we to turn aside for +every fat babu that asks to speak to us? I have sent for horses." + +"I will speak with that man!" said the German. + +He began to walk up and down the length of the long room, pushing aside +the cushions irritably, and at one end knocking over a great bowl of +flowers. He did not appear conscious of his clumsiness, and did not +seem to see the maids who ran to mop up the water. At the next turn +down the room he pushed between them as if they had not been there. +Ranjoor Singh stood watching him, stroking a black beard reflectively; +he was perfectly sure that Yasmini would make the next move, and was +willing to wait for it. + +"The horses should be here in a few minutes," he said hopefully, after +a while, for he heard a door open. + +Then babu Sita Ram burst in, half running, and holding his great +stomach as he always did when in a hurry. + +"Oh, my God!" he wailed. "Quick! Where is German gentleman? And not +knowing German, how shall I make meaning clear? German should be +reckoned among dead languages and--Ah! My God, sir, you astonish me! +Resemblance to Mohammedan of no particular standing in community is +first class! How shall I--" + +"Say it in English!" said the German, blocking his way. + +"My God, sahib, it is bad news! How shall I avoid customaree stigma +attaching to bearer of ill tidings?" + +"Speak!" said the German. "I won't hurt you!" + +"Sahib, in pursuit unavailingly of chance emolument in neighborhood of +Chandni Chowk just recently--" + +"How recently?" the German asked. + +"Oh, my God! So recently that there are yet erections of cuticle all +down my back! Sahib, not more than twenty minutes have elapsed, and I +saw this with my own eyes!" + +"Saw what--where?" + +"Where? Have I not said where? My God, I am so upset as to be losing +sense of all proportion! Where? At German place of business--Sigelman +and Meyer--in small street leading out of Chandni Chowk. In search of +chance emolument, and finding none yet--finding none yet, sahib--sahib, +I am poor man, having wife and familee dependent and also many other +disabilitees, including wife's relatives." + +The German gave him some paper money impatiently. The babu unfolded it, +eyed the denomination with a spasm of relief, folded it again, and +appeared to stow it into his capacious stomach. + +"Sahib, while I was watching, police came up at double-quick march and +arrested everybodee, including all Germans in building. There was much +annoyance manifested when search did not reveal presence of one other +sahib. So I ran to give warning, being veree poor man and without +salaried employment." + +"What happened to the Germans?" + +"Jail, sahib! All have gone to jail! By this time they are all +excommunication, supplied with food and water by authorities. Having +once been jail official myself, I can testify--" + +"What happened to the office?" + +"Locked up, sahib! Big red seal--much sealing wax, and stamp of police +department, with notice regarding penalty for breaking same, and also +police sentry at door!" + +Looking more unlike a Mohammedan street vender than ever, the German +began to pace the room again with truly martial strides, frowning as he +sought through the recesses of his mind for the correct solution of the +problem. + +"Listen!" he said, coming to a stand in front of Ranjoor Singh. "I have +changed my mind!" + +"The horses are ready," answered Ranjoor Singh. + +"The German government has been to huge expense to provide aid of the +right kind, to be ready at the right minute. My sole business is to see +that the utmost use is made of it." + +"That also is my sole business!" vowed Ranjoor Singh. + +"You have heard that the police are after me?" + +Ranjoor Singh nodded. + +"Can you get away from here unseen--unknown to the police?" + +Ranjoor Singh nodded again, for he was very sure of Yasmini's resource. + +Again the German began to pace the room, now with his hands behind him, +now with folded arms, now with his chin down to his breast, and now +with a high chin as he seemed on the verge of reaching some +determination. And then Yasmini began to loose the flood of her +resources, that Ranjoor Singh might make use of what he chose; she was +satisfied to leave the German in the Sikh's hands and to squander aid +at random. + +Men began to come in, one at a time. They would whisper to Ranjoor +Singh, and hurry out again. Some of them would whisper to Yasmini over +in the window, and she would give them mock messages to carry, very +seriously. Babu Sita Ram was stirred out of a meditative coma and sent +hurrying away, to come back after a little while and wring his hands. +He ran over to Yasmini. + +"It is awful!" he wailed. "Soon there will be no troops left with which +to quell Mohammedan uprising. All loyal troops are leaving, and none +but disloyal men are left behind. The government is mad, and I am veree +much afraid!" + +Yasmini quieted him, and Ranjoor Singh, pretending to be busy with +other messengers, noted the effect of the babu's wail on the German. He +judged the "change of mind" had gone far enough. + +"We should lose time by following my regiment," he said at last. "There +are now five more regiments ready to mutiny, and they will come to me +to wherever I send for them." + +The German's blue eyes gazed into the Sikh's brown ones very shrewdly +and very long. His hand sought the neighborhood of his hip, and dwelt +there a moment longer than the Sikh thought necessary. + +"I have decided we must hurry," he said. "I will show you what I have +to show. I will not be taking chances. You must bring a messenger, and +he must go for your mutineers while you stay there with me. When we are +there, you will be in my power until the regiments come; and when they +come I will surrender to you. Do you agree?" + +"Yes," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"Then choose your messenger. Choose a man who will not try to play +tricks--a man who will not warn the authorities, because if there is +any slip, any trickery, I will undo in one second all that has been +done!" + +So Ranjoor Singh conferred with Yasmini over the two great bowls of +flowers that always stand in her big window; and she suppressed a +squeal of excitement while she watched the German resume his pacing up +and down. + +"Take Sita Ram!" she advised. + +Ranjoor Singh scowled at the babu. + +"That fat bellyful of fear!" he growled. "I would rather take a pig!" + +"All the same, take Sita Ram!" she advised. + +So the babu was roused again out of a comfortable snooze, and Yasmini +whispered to him something that frightened him so much that he trembled +like a man with palsy. + +"I am married man with children!" he expostulated. + +"I will be kind to your widow!" purred Yasmini. + +"I will not go!" vowed the babu. + +"Put him in the cobra room!" she commanded, and some maids came closer +to obey. + +"I will go!" said Sita Ram. "But, oh, my God, a man should receive +pecuniary recompense far greater than legendary ransom! I shall not +come back alive! I know I shall not come back alive!" + +"Who cares, _babuji?_" asked Yasmini. + +"True!" said Sita Ram. "This is land of devil-take-hindmost, and with +my big stomach I am often last. I am veree full of fear!" + +"We shall need food," interposed the German. "Water will be there, but +we had better have sufficient food with us for two nights." + +Yasmini gave a sharp order, and several of her maids ran out of the +room. Ten minutes later they returned with three baskets, and gave one +each to the German, to Ranjoor Singh, and to Sita Ram. Sita Ham opened +his and peered in. The German opened his, looked pleased, and closed +the lid again. Ranjoor Singh accepted his at its face value, and did +not open it. + +"May the memsahib never lack plenty from which to give!" he said, for +there is no word for "Thank you" in all India. + +"I will bless the memsahib at each mouthful!" said Sita Ram. + +"Truly a bellyful of blessings!" laughed Yasmini. + +Then they all went to the stair-head and watched and listened through +the open door while a closed carriage was driven away in a great hurry. +Three maids and six men came up-stairs one after another, at intervals, +to report the road all clear; the first carriage had not been followed, +and there was nobody watching; another carriage waited. Babu Sita Ram +was sent downstairs to get into the waiting carriage and stay there on +the lookout. + +"Now bring him better clothes!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +But Yasmini had anticipated that order. + +"They are in the carriage, on the seat," she said. + +So the German went down-stairs and climbed in beside the babu, changing +his turban at once for the better one that he found waiting in there. + +"This performance is worth a rajah's ransom!" grumbled babu Sita Ram. +"Will sahib not put elbow in my belly, seeing same is highly sensitive?" + +But the German laughed at him. + +"Love is rare, non-contagious sickness!" asserted Sita Ram with +conviction. + +At the head of the stairs Ranjoor Singh and Yasmini stood looking into +each other's eyes. He looked into pools of laughter and mystery that +told him nothing at all; she saw a man's heart glowing in his brown +ones. + +"It will be for you now," said Ranjoor Singh, "to act with speed and +all discretion. I don't know what we are going to see, although I know +it is artillery of some sort. I am sure he has a plan for destroying +every trace of whatever it is, and of himself and me, if he suspects +treachery. I know no more. I can only go ahead." + +"And trust me!" said Yasmini. + +The Sikh did not answer. + +"And trust me!" repeated Yasmini. "I will save you out of this, Ranjoor +Singh sahib, that we may fight our quarrel to a finish later on. What +would the world be without enemies? You will not find artillery!" + +"How do you know?" + +"I have known for nearly two years what you will find there, my friend! +Only I have not known exactly where to find it. And yet sometimes I +have thought that I have known that, too! Go, Ranjoor Singh. You will +be in danger. Above all, do not try to force that German's hand too far +until I come with aid. It is better to talk than fight, so long as the +enemy is strongest!" + +"Woman!" swore Ranjoor Singh so savagely that she laughed straight into +his face. "If you suspect--if you can guess where we are going--send +men to surround the place and watch!" + +"Will a tiger walk into a watched lair?" she answered. "Go, talker! Go +and do things!" + +So, swearing and dissatisfied, Ranjoor Singh went down and climbed on +to the box seat of a two-horse carriage. + +"Which way?" he asked; and the German growled an answer through the +shutters. + +"Now straight on!" said the German, after fifteen minutes. "Straight on +out of Delhi!" + +They were headed south, and driving very slowly, for to have driven +fast would have been to draw attention to themselves. Ranjoor Singh +scarcely troubled to look about him, and Sita Ram fell into a doze, in +spite of his protestations of fear. The German was the only one of the +party who was at pains to keep a lookout, and he was most exercised to +know whether they were being followed; over and over again he called on +Ranjoor Singh to stop until a following carriage should overtake them +and pass on. + +So they were a very long time driving to Old Delhi, where the ruins of +old cities stand piled against one another in a tangled mass of verdure +that is hardly penetrable except where the tracks wind in and out. The +shadow of the Kutb Minar was long when they drove past it, and it was +dusk when the German shouted and Ranjoor Singh turned the horses in +between two age-old trees and drew rein at a shattered temple door. + +Some monkeys loped away, chattering, and about a thousand parakeets +flew off, shrilling for another roost. But there was no other sign of +life. + +"Stable the horses in here!" said the German; and they did so, Ranjoor +Singh dipping water out of a rain-pool and filling a stone trough that +had once done duty as receptacle for gifts for a long-forgotten god. +Then they pushed the carriage under a tangle of hanging branches. + +"Look about you!" advised the German, as he emptied food for the horses +on the temple floor; and babu Sita Ram made very careful note of the +temple bearings, while Ranjoor Singh and the German blocked the old +doorway with whatever they could find to keep night-prowlers outside +and the horses in. + +Then the German led the way into the dark, swinging a lantern that he +had unearthed from some recess. Babu Sita Ram walked second, +complaining audibly and shuddering at every shadow. Last came Ranjoor +Singh, grim, silent. And the rain beat down on all three of them until +they were drenched and numb, and their feet squelched in mud at every +step. + +For all the darkness, Ranjoor Singh made note of the fact that they +were following a wagon track, into which the wheels of a native cart +had sunk deep times without number. Only native ox-carts leave a track +like that. + +It must have been nine o'clock, and the babu was giving signs of nearly +complete exhaustion, when they passed beyond a ring of trees into a +clearing. They stood at the edge of the clearing in a shadow for about +ten minutes, while the German watched catwise for signs of life. + +"It is now," he said, tapping Ranjoor Singh's chest, "that you begin to +be at my mercy. I assure you that the least disobedience on your part +will mean your instant death!" + +"Lead on!" growled Ranjoor Singh. + +"Do you recognize the place?" + +Ranjoor Singh peered through the rain in every direction. At each +corner of the clearing, north, south, east and west, he could dimly see +some sort of ruined arch, and there was another ruin in the center. + +"No," he said. + +"This is the oldest temple ruin anywhere near Delhi. On some +inscriptions it is called 'Temple of the Four Winds,' but the old Hindu +who lived in it before we bribed him to go away called it the 'Winds of +the World.' It is known as 'Winds of the World' on the books of the +German War Office. I think it is really of Greek origin myself, but I +am not an Orientalist, and the text-books all say that I am wrong." + +"Lead on!" said Ranjoor Singh; and the German led them, swinging his +lantern and seeming not at all afraid of being seen now. + +"We have taken steps quite often to make the people hereabouts believe +this temple haunted!" he said. "They avoid it at night as if the devil +lived here. If any of them see my lantern, they will not stop running +till they reach the sea!" + +They came to a ruin that was such an utter ruin that it looked as if an +earthquake must have shaken a temple to pieces to be disintegrated by +the weather; but Ranjoor Singh noticed that the cart-tracks wound +around the side of it, and when they came to a fairly large teak +trap-door, half hidden by creepers, he was not much surprised. + +"My God, gentlemen!" said Sita Ram. "That place is wet-weather refuge +for many million cobras! If I must die, I will prefer to perish in +rain, where wife and family may find me for proper funeral rites. I +will not go in there!" + +But the German raised the trap-door, and Ranjoor Singh took the unhappy +babu by the scruff of his fat neck. + +"In with you!" he ordered. + +And, chattering as if his teeth were castanets, the babu trod gingerly +down damp stone steps whose center had been worn into ruts by countless +feet. The German came last, and let the trap slam shut. + +"My God!" yelled the babu. "Let me go! I am family man!" + +"_Vorwarts_!" laughed the German, leading the way toward a teak door +set in a stone wall. + +They were in an ancient temple vault that seemed to have miraculously +escaped from the destruction that had overwhelmed the whole upper part. +Not a stone of it was out of place. It was wind and water-tight, and +the vaulted roof, that above was nothing better than a mound of debris, +from below looked nearly as perfect as when the stones had first been +fitted into place. + +The German produced a long key, opened the teak door, and stood aside +to let them pass. + +"No, no!" shuddered Sita Ram; but Ranjoor Singh pushed him through; the +German followed, and the door slammed shut as the trap had done. + +"And now, my friends, I will convince you!" said the German, holding +the lantern high. "What are those?" + +The light from the solitary lantern fell on rows and rows of bales, +arranged in neat straight lines, until away in the distance it +suggested endless other shadowy bales, whose outlines could be little +more than guessed at. They were in a vault so huge that Ranjoor Singh +made no attempt to estimate its size. + +"See this!" said the German, walking close to something on a wooden +stand, and he held the light above it. "In the office in Delhi that the +police have just sealed up there is a wireless apparatus very much like +this. This, that you see here, is a detonator. This is fulminate of +mercury. This is dynamite. With a touch of a certain key in Delhi we +could have blown up this vault at any minute of the past two years, if +we had thought it necessary to hide our tracks. A shot from this pistol +would have much the same effect," he added darkly. + +"But the bales?" asked Ranjoor Singh. "What is in the bales?" + +"Dynamite bombs, my friend! You native soldiers have no artillery, and +we have seen from the first the necessity of supplying a substitute. By +making full use of the element of surprise, these bombs should serve +your purpose. There are one million of them, packed two hundred in a +bale--much more useful than artillery in the hands of untrained men! + +"Those look like bales of blankets. They are. Cotton blankets from +Muenchen-Gladbach. Only, the middle blankets have been omitted, and the +outer ones have served as a cushion to prevent accidental discharge. +They have been imported in small lots at a time, and brought here four +or five at a time in ox-carts from one or other of the Delhi railway +stations by men who are no longer in this part of India--men who have +been pensioned off." + +"How did you get them through the Customs?" wondered Ranjoor Singh. + +"Did you ever see a rabbit go into his hole?" the German asked. "They +were very small consignments, obviously of blankets. The duty was paid +without demur, and the price paid the Customs men was worth their +while. That part was easy!" + +"Of what size are the bombs?" asked Ranjoor Singh. + +"About the size of an orange. Come, I'll show you." + +He led him to an opened bale, and showed him two hundred of them +nestling like the eggs of some big bird. + +"My God!" moaned Sita Ram. "Are those dynamite? Sahibs--snakes are +better! Snakes can feel afraid, but those--ow! Let me go away!" + +"Let him go," said the German. "Let him take his message." + +"Go, then!" ordered Ranjoor Singh; and the German walked to the door to +let him out. + +"What is your message?" he asked. + +"To Yasmini first, for she is in touch with all of them," said Sita +Ram. "First I will go to Yasmini. Then she will come here to say the +regiments have started. First she will come alone; after her the +regiments." + +"She had better be alone!" said the German. "Go on, run! And don't +forget the way back? Wait! How will she know the way? How will you +describe it to her?" + +"She? Describe it to her? I will tell her 'The Winds of the World,' and +she will come straight." + +"How? How will she know?" + +"The priest who used to be here--whom you bribed to go away--he is her +night doorkeeper now!" said Sita Ram. "Yes, she will come veree +quickly!" + +The German let him out with an air mixed of surprise and disbelief, and +returned to Ranjoor Singh with far less iron in his stride, though with +no less determination. + +"Now we shall see!" he said, drawing an automatic pistol and cocking it +carefully. "This is not meant as a personal threat to you, so long as +we two are in here alone. It's in case of trickery from outside. I +shall blow this place sky-high if anything goes wrong. If the regiments +come, good! You shall have the bombs. If they don't come, or if there's +a trick played--click! Good-by! We'll argue the rest in Heaven!" + +"Very well," said Ranjoor Singh; and, to show how little he felt +concerned, he drew his basket to him and began to eat. + +The German followed suit. Then Ranjoor Singh took most of his wet +clothes off and spread them upon the bales to dry. The German imitated +that too. + +"Go to sleep if you care to," said the German. "I shall stand watch," +he added, with a dry laugh. + +But if a Sikh soldier can not manage without sleep, there is nobody on +earth who can. Ranjoor Singh sat back against a bale, and the watch +resolved itself into a contest of endurance, with the end by no means +in sight. + +"How long should it take that man to reach her?" asked the German. + +"Who knows?" the Sikh answered. + +"Perhaps three hours, perhaps a week! She is never still, and there are +those five regiments to hold in readiness." + +"She is a wonderful woman," said the German. + +Ranjoor Singh grunted. + +"How is it that she has known of this place all this time, and yet has +never tried to meddle with us?" + +"I, too, am anxious to know that!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +"You are surly, my friend! You do not like this pistol? You take it as +an insult? Is that it?" + +"I am thinking of those regiments, and of these grenades, and of what I +mean to do," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"Let us talk it over." + +"No." + +"Please your self!" + +They sat facing each other for hour after dreary hour, leaning back +against bales and thinking each his own thoughts. After about four +hours of it, it occurred to the German to dismantle the wireless +detonator. + +"We should have been blown up if the police had grown inquisitive," he +said, with a shrug of his shoulders, returning to his seat. + +After that they sat still for four hours more, and then put their +clothes on, not that they were dry yet, but the German had grown tired +of comparing Ranjoor Singh's better physique with his own. He put his +clothes on to hide inferiority, and Ranjoor Singh followed suit for the +sake of manners. + +"What rank do you hold in your army at home?" asked Ranjoor Singh, +after an almost endless interval. + +"If I told you that, my friend, you would be surprised." + +"I think not," said Ranjoor Singh. "I think you are an officer who was +dismissed from the service." + +"What makes you think so?" + +"I am sure of it!" + +"What makes you sure?" + +"You are too well educated for a noncommissioned officer. If you had +not been dismissed from the service you would be on the fighting +strength, or else in the reserve and ready for the front in Europe. And +what army keeps spies of your type on its strength? Am I right?" + +But then came Yasmini, carrying her food-basket as the rest had done. +She knocked at the outer trap-door, and the German ran to peep through +a hidden window at her. Then he went up a partly ruined stair and +looked all around the clearing through gaps in the debris overhead that +had been glazed for protection's sake. Then he admitted her. + +She ran in past him, ran past him again when he opened the second door, +and laughed at Ranjoor Singh. She seemed jubilant and very little +interested in the bombs that the German was at pains to explain to her. +She had to tell of five regiments on the way. + +"The first will be here in two or three hours" she asserted; "your men, +Ranjoor Singh--your Jat Sikhs that are ever first to mutiny!" + +She squealed delight as the Sikh's face flushed at the insult. + +"What is the cocked pistol for?" she asked the German. + +He told her, but she did not seem frightened in the least. She began to +sing, and her voice echoed strangely through the vault until she +herself seemed to grow hypnotized by it, and she began to sway, pushing +her basket away from her behind a bale near where the German sat. + +"I will dance for you!" she said suddenly. + +She arose and produced a little wind instrument from among her +clothing--a little bell-mouthed wooden thing, with a voice like Scots +bagpipes. + +"Out of the way, Ranjoor Singh!" she ordered. "Sit yonder. I will dance +between you, so that the German sahib may watch both of us at once!" + +So Ranjoor Singh went back twenty feet away, wondering at her mood and +wondering even more what trick she meant to play. He had reached the +conclusion, very reluctantly, that presently the German would fire that +pistol of his and end the careers of all three of them; so he was +thinking of the squadron on its way to France. In a way he was sorry +for Yasmini; but it was the squadron and Colonel Kirby that drew his +heart-strings. + +Swaying to and fro, from the waist upward, Yasmini began to play her +little instrument. The echoing vault became a solid sea of throbbing +noise, and as she played she increased her speed of movement, until the +German sat and gaped. He had seen her dance on many more than one +occasion. So had Ranjoor Singh. Never had either of them, or any living +man, seen Yasmini dance as she did that night. + +She was a storm. Her instrument was but an added touch of artistry to +heighten the suggestion. Prom a slow, rhythmic swing she went by gusts +and fits and starts to the wildest, utterly abandoned fury of a +hurricane, sweeping a wide circle with her gauzy dress; and at the +height of each elemental climax, in mid-whirl of some new amazing +figure, she would set her instrument to screaming, until the German +shouted "Bravo!" and Ranjoor Singh nodded grave approval. + +"_Kreuz blitzen!_" swore the German suddenly, leaping to his feet and +staggering. + +And Yasmini pounced on him. Ranjoor Singh could not see what had +happened, but he sprang to his feet and ran toward them. But before he +could reach them Yasmini had snatched the German's pistol and tossed it +to him, standing back from the writhing German, panting, with blazing +eyes, and looking too lovely to be human. She did not speak. She looked. + +And Ranjoor Singh looked too. Under the writhing German, and back again +over him, there crawled a six-foot hooded cobra, seeming to caress the +carcass of his prey. + +"He will be dead in five--ten minutes," said Yasmini, "and then I will +catch my snake again! If you want to ask him questions you had better +hurry!" + +Then Ranjoor Singh recalled the offices that men had done for him when +he was wounded. He asked the German if he might send messages, and to +whom. But the dying man seemed to be speechless, and only writhed. It +was nearly a minute before Ranjoor Singh divined his purpose, and +pounced on the hand that lay underneath him. He wrenched away another +pistol only just in time. The snake crawled away, and Yasmini coaxed it +slowly back into its basket. + +"Now," she said, "when he is dead we will drive back to Delhi and amuse +ourselves! You shall run away to fight men you never quarreled with, +and I will govern India! Is that not so?" + +Ranjoor Singh did not answer her. He kept trying again and again to get +some message from the German to send perhaps to a friend in Germany. +But the man died speechless, and Ranjoor Singh could find no scrap of +paper on him or no mark that would give any clue to his identity. + +"Come!" said Yasmini. "Lock the door on him. We will tell the general +sahib, and the general sahib will send some one to bury him. Come!" + +"Not yet," said Ranjoor Singh. "Speak. When did you first know that +these Germans had taken this vault to use?" + +"More than two years ago," she boasted, "when the old priest, that was +no priest at all, came to me to be doorkeeper." + +"And when did you know that they were storing dynamite in here?" + +"I did not know." + +"Then, blankets?" + +"Bah! Two years ago, when a Customs clerk with too much money began to +make love to a maid of mine." + +"Then why did you not warn the government at once, and so save all this +trouble?" + +"Buffalo! Much fun that would have been! Ranjoor Singh, thy Jat +imagination does thee justice. Come, come and chase that regiment of +thine, and spill those stupid brains in France! Lock the door and come +away!" + + + Brother, a favor I came to crave, + Oh, more than brother, oh, more than friend! + Spare me a half o' thy soldier grave, + That I sleep with thee at the end! + Spur to spur, and knee to knee, + Brother, I'll ride to death with thee! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +The crew of the Messageries Maritimes steamship _Duc d'Orleans_ will +tell of a tall Sikh officer, with many medals on his breast, who +boarded their ship in Bombay with letters to the captain from a British +officer of such high rank as to procure him instant accession to his +request. Bound homeward from Singapore, the _Duc d'Orleans_ had put +into Bombay for coal, supplies and orders. She left with orders for +Marseilles, and on board her there went this same Sikh officer, who, it +seemed, had missed the transport on which his regiment had sailed. + +He had with him a huge, ill-mannered charger, and one Sikh trooper by +way of servant. The charger tried to eat all that came near him, +including his horse-box, the ship's crew, and enough hay for at least +two ordinary horses. But Ranjoor Singh, who said very little to anybody +about anything, had a certain way with him, and men put up with the +charger's delinquencies for its owner's sake. + +When they reached the Red Sea, and the ship rolled less, Ranjoor Singh +and his trooper went to most extraordinary lengths to keep the charger +in condition. They took him out of his box and walked him around the +decks for hours at a time, taking turns at it until officer, trooper +and horse were tired out. + +They did the same all down the Mediterranean. And when they landed at +Marseilles the horse was fit, as he proved to his own brute +satisfaction by trying to kick the life out of a gendarme on the quay. + +Another letter from somebody very high, in authority to a French +general officer in Marseilles procured the instant supply of a horse +for the Sikh trooper and two passes on a northbound train. The evening +of their landing saw them on their way to the front, Ranjoor Singh in a +first-class compartment, and his man in the horse-box. Neither knew any +French to speak of, but the French were very kind to these dark-skinned +gentlemen who were in so much hurry to help them win the war. + +It was dark--nearly pitch--dark at the journey's end. The moon shone +now and then through banks of black clouds, and showed long lines of +poplar trees. Beyond, in the distance, there was a zone in which great +flashes leaped and died--great savage streaks of fire of many +colors--and a thundering that did not cease at all. + +Along the road that ran between the poplars two men sent their horses +at a rousing clip, though not so fast as to tax them to the utmost. The +man in front rode a brute that lacked little of seventeen hands and +that fought for the bit as if he would like to eat the far horizon. + +In the very, very dark zone, on the near side of where the splashes of +red fire fell, jingling bits and a kick now and then proclaimed the +presence of a regiment of cavalry. Nothing else betrayed them until one +was near enough to see the whites of men's eyes in the dark, for they +were native Indian cavalry, who know the last master-touches of the art +of being still. + +Between them and the very, very dark zone--which was what the Frenchmen +call a forest, and some other nations call a stand of timber--a little +group of officers sat talking in low tones, eight Englishmen and the +others Sikhs. + +"They say they're working round the edge--say they can't hold 'em. It +looks very much as if we're going to get our chance to-night. When a +red light flashes three times at this near corner of the woods, we're +to ride into 'em in line--it'll mean that our chaps are falling back in +a hurry, leaving lots of room between 'em and the wood for us to ride +through. Better join your men, you fellows! Oh, lord! What wouldn't +Ranjoor Singh have given to be here! What's that?" + +There came a challenge from the rear. Two horsemen cantered up. + +"Who are you? What d' you want?" + +"Sahib! Colonel Kirby sahib!" + +"What is it? Hallo--there are the three lights--no, two lights--that's +'Get ready!' Who are you? Why--Ranjoor Singh!" + +"Salaam, sahib!" + +"Shake hands. By gad--I'm glad! Find your squadron, Ranjoor Singh--find +it at once, man--you're just in time. There go the three lights! +_Outram's Own!--in line of squadron columns to the right--Trot, March! +Right!"_ + +Ranjoor Singh had kept the word of babu Sita Ram, and had managed to be +with them when the first blood ran. + + +THE END. + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Winds of the World, by Talbot Mundy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINDS OF THE WORLD *** + +***** This file should be named 6751.txt or 6751.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/6/7/5/6751/ + +Produced by Avinash Kothare, Tom Allen, Charles Franks and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law 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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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Winds of the World + +Author: Talbot Mundy + +Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6751] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on January 23, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINDS OF THE WORLD *** + + + + +Produced by Avinash Kothare, Tom Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + +THE WINDS OF THE WORLD + +By TALBOT MUNDY + + + + +THE WINDS OF THE WORLD + + + Ever the Winds of the World fare forth + (Oh, listen ye! Ah, listen ye!), + East and West, and South and North, + Shuttles weaving back and forth + Amid the warp! (Oh, listen ye!) + Can sightless touch--can vision keen + Hunt where the Winds of the World have been + And searching, learn what rumors mean? + (Nay, ye who are wise! Nay, listen ye!) + When tracks are crossed and scent is stale, + 'Tis fools who shout--the fast who fail! + But wise men harken-Listen ye! + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +A watery July sun was hurrying toward a Punjab sky-line, as if weary +of squandering his strength on men who did not mind, and resentful of +the unexplainable--a rainy-weather field-day. The cold steel and +khaki of native Indian cavalry at attention gleamed motionless +between British infantry and two batteries of horse artillery. The +only noticeable sound was the voice of a general officer, that rose +and fell explaining and asserting pride in his command, but saying +nothing as to the why of exercises in the mud. Nor did he mention why +the censorship was in full force. He did not say a word of Germany, +or Belgium. + +In front of the third squadron from the right, Risaldar-Major +Ranjoor Singh sat his charger like a big bronze statue. He would have +stooped to see his right spur bettor, that shone in spite of mud, for +though he has been a man these five-and-twenty years, Ranjoor Singh +has neither lost his boyhood love of such things, nor intends to; he +has been accused of wearing solid silver spurs in bed. But it hurt +him to bend much, after a day's hard exercise on a horse such as he +rode. + +Once--in a rock-strewn gully where the whistling Himalayan wind was +Acting Antiseptic-of-the-Day--a young surgeon had taken hurried +stitches over Ranjoor Singh's ribs without probing deep enough for an +Afghan bullet; that bullet burned after a long day in the saddle. And +Bagh was--as the big brute's name implied--a tiger of a horse, +unweakened even by monsoon weather, and his habit was to spring with +terrific suddenness when his rider moved on him. + +So Ranjoor Singh sat still. He was willing to eat agony at any time +for the squadron's sake--for a squadron of Outram's Own is a unity to +marvel at, or envy; and its leader a man to be forgiven spurs a half-inch +longer than the regulation. As a soldier, however, he was careful +of himself when occasion offered. + +Sikh-soldier-wise, he preferred Bagh to all other horses in the +world, because it had needed persuasion, much stroking of a black +beard--to hide anxiety--and many a secret night-ride--to sweat the +brute's savagery--before the colonel-sahib could be made to see his +virtues as a charger and accept him into the regiment. Sikh-wise, he +loved all things that expressed in any way his own unconquerable +fire. Most of all, however, he loved the squadron; there was no +woman, nor anything between him and D Squadron; but Bagh came next. + +Spurs were not needed when the general ceased speaking, and the +British colonel of Outram's Own shouted an order. Bagh, brute energy +beneath hand-polished hair and plastered dirt, sprang like a loosed +Hell-tantrum, and his rider's lips drew tight over clenched teeth as +he mastered self, agony and horse in one man's effort. Fight how he +would, heel, tooth and eye all flashing, Bagh was forced to hold his +rightful place in front of the squadron, precisely the right distance +behind the last supernumerary of the squadron next in front. + +Line after rippling line, all Sikhs of the true Sikh baptism except +for the eight of their officers who were European, Outram's Own swept +down a living avenue of British troops; and neither gunners nor +infantry could see one flaw in them, although picking flaws in native +regiments is almost part of the British army officer's religion. + +To the blare of military music, through a bog of their own mixing, +the Sikhs trotted for a mile, then drew into a walk, to bring the +horses into barracks cool enough for watering. + +They reached stables as the sun dipped under the near-by acacia +trees, and while the black-bearded troopers scraped and rubbed the +mud from weary horses, Banjoor Singh went through a task whose form +at least was part of his very life. He could imagine nothing less +than death or active service that could keep him from inspecting +every horse in the squadron before he ate or drank, or as much as +washed himself. + +But, although the day had been a hard one and the strain on the +horses more than ordinary, his examination now was so perfunctory +that the squadron gaped; the troopers signaled with their eyes as he +passed, little more than glancing at each horse. Almost before his +back had vanished at the stable entrance, wonderment burst into words. + +"For the third time he does thus!" + +"See! My beast overreached, and he passed without detecting it! Does +the sun set the same way still?" + +"I have noticed that he does thus each time after a field-day. What +is the connection? A field-day in the rains--a general officer +talking to us afterward about the Salt, as if a Sikh does not +understand the Salt better than a British general knows English--and +our risaldar-major neglecting the horses--is there a connection?" + +"Aye. What is all this? We worked no harder in the war against the +Chitralis. There is something in my bones that speaks of war, when I +listen for a while!" + +"War! Hear him, brothers! Talk is talk, but there will be no war +until India grows too fat to breathe--unless the past be remembered +and we make one for ourselves!" + + * * * * * + +There was silence for a while, if a change of sounds is silence. The +Delhi mud sticks as tight as any, and the kneading of it from out of +horsehair taxes most of a trooper's energy and full attention. Then, +the East being the East in all things, a solitary; trooper picked up +the scent and gave tongue, as a true hound guides the pack. + +"Who is _she_?" he wondered, loud enough for fifty men to hear. + +From out of a cloud of horse-dust, where a stable helper on +probation combed a tangled tail, came one word of swift enlightenment. + +"Yasmini!" + +"Ah-h-h-h!" In a second the whole squadron was by the ears, and the +stable-helper was the center of an interest he had not bargained for. + +"Nay, sahibs, I but followed him, and how should I know? Nay, then I +did not follow him! It so happened. I took that road, and he stepped +out of a _tikka-gharri_ at her door. Am I blind? Do I not know +her door? Does not everybody know it? Who am I that I should know why +he goes again? But--does a moth fly only once to the lamp-flame? Does +a drunkard drink but once? By the Guru, nay! May my tongue parch in +my throat if I said he is a drunkard! I said--I meant to say--seeing +she is Yasmini, and he having been to see her once--and being again +in a great hurry--whither goes he?" + +So the squadron chose a sub-committee of inquiry, seven strong, that +being a lucky number the wide world over, and the movements of the +risaldar-major were reported one by one to the squadron with the +infinite exactness of small detail that seems so useless to all save +Easterns. + +Fifteen minutes after he had left his quarters, no longer in khaki +uniform, but dressed as a Sikh gentleman, the whole squadron knew the +color of his undershirt, also that he had hired a _tikka-gharri_, and +that his only weapon was the ornamental dagger that a true Sikh wears +twisted in his hair. One after one, five other men reported him nearly +all the way through Delhi, through the Chandni Chowk--where the last +man but one nearly lost him in the evening crowd--to the narrow place +where, with a bend in the street to either hand, is Yasmini's. + +The last man watched him through Yasmini's outer door and up the +lower stairs before hurrying back to the squadron. And a little later +on, being almost as inquisitive as they were careful for their major, +the squadron delegated other men, in mufti, to watch for him at the +foot of Yasmini's stairs, or as near to the foot as might be, and see +him safely home again if they had to fight all Asia on the way. + +These men had some money with them, and weapons hidden underneath +their clothes; for, having betted largely on the quail-fight at +Abdul's stables, the squadron was in funds. + +"In case of trouble one can bribe the police," counseled Nanak +Singh, and he surely ought to know, for he was the oldest trooper, +and trouble everlasting had preserved him from promotion. "But +weapons are good, when policemen are not looking," he added, and the +squadron agreed with him. + +It was Tej Singh, not given to talking as is rule, who voiced the +general opinion. + +"Now we are on the track of things. Now, perhaps, we shall know the +meaning of field exercises during the monsoon, with our horses up to +the belly in blue mud! The winds of all the world blow into Yasmini's +and out again. Our risaldar-major knows nothing at all of women--and +that is the danger. But he can listen to the wind; and, what he +hears, sooner or later we shall know, too. I smell happenings!" + +Those three words comprised the whole of it. The squadron spent most +of the night whispering, dissecting, analyzing, subdividing, +weighing, guessing at that smell of happenings, while its risaldar-major, +thinking his secret all his own, investigated nearer to its source. + + + Have you heard the dry earth shrug herself + For a storm that tore the trees? + + Have you watched loot-hungry Faithful + Praising Allah on their knees? + + Have you felt the short hairs rising + When the moon slipped out of sight, + + And the chink of steel on rock explained + That footfall in the night? + + Have you seen a gray boar sniff up-wind + In the mauve of waking day? + + Have you heard a mad crowd pause and think? + Have you seen all Hell to pay? + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +Yasmini bears a reputation that includes her gift for dancing and +her skill in song, but is not bounded thereby, Her stairs illustrated +it--the two flights of steep winding stairs that lead to her +bewildering reception-floor; they seem to have been designed to take +men's breath away, and to deliver them at the top defenseless. + +But Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh mounted them with scarcely an +effort, as a man who could master Bagh well might, and at the top his +middle-aged back was straight and his eye clear. The cunning, +curtained lights did not distract him; so he did not make the usual +mistake of thinking that the Loveliness who met him was Yasmini. + +Yasmini likes to make her first impression of the evening on a man +just as he comes from making an idiot of himself; so the maid who +curtsies in the stair-head maze of mirrored lights has been trained +to imitate her. But Ranjoor Singh flipped the girl a coin, and it +jingled at her feet. + +The maid ceased bowing, too insulted to retort. The piece of silver-- +she would have stooped for gold, just as surely as she would have +recognized its ring--lay where it fell. Ranjoor Singh stepped forward +toward a glass-bead curtain through which a soft light shone, and an +unexpected low laugh greeted him. It was merry, mocking, musical--and +something more. There was wisdom hidden in it--masquerading as +frivolity; somewhere, too, there was villainy-villainy that she who +laughed knew all about and found more interesting than a play. + +Then suddenly the curtain parted, and Yasmini blocked the way, +standing with arms spread wide to either door-post, smiling at him; +and Ranjoor Singh had to stop and stare whether it suited him or not. + +Yasmini is not old, nor nearly old, for all that India is full of +tales about her, from the Himalayas to Cape Comorin. In a land where +twelve is a marriageable age, a woman need not live to thirty to be +talked about; and if she can dance as Yasmini does--though only the +Russian ballet can do that--she has the secret of perpetual youth to +help her defy the years. No doubt the soft light favored her, but she +might have been Ranjoor Singh's granddaughter as she barred his way +and looked him up and down impudently through languorous brown eyes. + +"Salaam, O plowman!" she mocked. She was not actually still an +instant, for the light played incessantly on her gauzy silken +trousers and jeweled slippers, but she made no move to admit him. "My +honor grows! Twice--nay, three times in a little while!" + +She spoke in the Jat tongue fluently; but that was not remarkable, +because Yasmini is mistress of so many languages that men say one can +not speak in her hearing and not be understood. + +"I am a soldier," answered Ranjoor Singh more than a little stiffly. + +"'I am a statesman,' said the viceroy's babu! A Sikh is a Jat farmer +with a lion's tail and the manners of a buffalo! Age or gallantry +will bend a man's back. What keeps it straight--the smell of the +farmyard on his shoes?" + +Ranjoor Singh did not answer, nor did he bow low as she intended. +She forgot, perhaps, that on a previous occasion he had seen her +snatch a man's turban from his head and run with it into the room, to +the man's sweating shame. He kicked his shoes off calmly and waited +as a man waits on parade, looking straight into her eyes that were +like dark jewels, only no jewels in the world ever glowed so +wonderfully; he thought he could read anger in them, but that ruffled +him no more than her mockery. + +"Enter, then, O farmer!" she said, turning lithely as a snake, to +beckon him and lead the way. + +Now he had only a back view of her, but the contour of her neck and +chin and her shoulders mocked him just as surely as her lips were +making signals that he could not see. One answer to the signals was +the tittering of twenty maids, who sat together by the great deep +window, ready to make music. + +"They laugh to see a farmer strayed from his manure-pile!" purred +Yasmini over her shoulder; but Ranjoor Singh followed her unperturbed. + +He was finding time to study the long room, its divans and deep +cushions around the walls; and it did not escape his notice that many +people were expected. He guessed there was room for thirty or forty +to sit at ease. + +Like a pale blue will-o'-the-wisp, a glitter in the cunning lights, +she led him to a far end of the room where many cushions were, There +she turned on him with a snake-like suddenness that was one of her +surest tricks. + +"I shall have great guests to-night--I shall be busy." + +"That is thy affair," said Ranjoor Singh, aware that her eyes were +seeking to read his soul. The dropped lids did not deceive him. + +"Then, what do you want here?" + +That question was sheer impudence. It is very well understood in +Delhi that any native gentleman of rank may call on Yasmini between +midday and midnight without offering a reason for his visit; +otherwise it would be impossible to hold a salon and be a power in +politics, in a land where politics run deep, but where men do not +admit openly to which party they belong. But Yasmini represents the +spirit of the Old East, sweeter than a rose and twice as tempting-- +with a poisoned thorn inside. And here was the New East, in the shape +of a middle-aged Sikh officer taught by Young England. + +He annoyed her. + +Ranjoor Singh's answer was to seat himself, with a dignity the West +has yet to learn, on a long divan against the wall that gave him a +good view of the entrance and all the rest of the room, window +included. Instantly Yasmini flung herself on the other end of it, and +lay face downward, with her chin resting on both hands. + +She studied his face intently for sixty seconds, and it very seldom +takes her that long to read a man's character, guess at his past, and +make arrangements for his future, if she thinks him worth her while. + +"Why are you here?" she asked again at the end of her scrutiny. + +Ranjoor Singh seemed not to hear her; he was watching other men who +entered, and listening to the sound of yet others on the stairs. No +other Sikh came in, nor more than one of any other caste or tribe; +yet he counted thirty men in half as many minutes. + +"I think you are a buffalo!" she said at last; but if Ranjoor Singh +was interested in her thoughts he forgot to admit it. + +A dozen more men entered, and the air, already heavy, grew thick +with tobacco smoke mingling with the smoke of sandal-wood that +floated back and forth in layers as the punkahs swung lazily. +Outside, the rain swished and chilled the night air; but the hot air +from inside hurried out to meet the cool, and none of the cool came +in. The noise of rain became depressing until Yasmini made a signal +to her maids and they started to make music. + +Then Yasmini caught a new sound on the stairs, and swiftly, +instantly, instead of glancing to the entrance, her eyes sought +Ranjoor Singh's; and she saw that he had heard it too. So she sat up +as if enlightenment had come and had brought disillusion in its wake. + +The glass-bead curtain jingled, and a maid backed through it +giggling, followed in a hurry by a European, dressed in a white duck +apology for evening clothes. He seemed a little the worse for drink, +but not too drunk to recognize the real Yasmini when he saw her and +to blush crimson for having acted like an idiot. + +"Queen of the Night!" he said in Hindustani that was peculiarly +mispronounced. + +"_Box-wallah!_" she answered under her breath; but she smiled +at him, and aloud she said, "Will the sahib honor us all by being +seated?" + +A maid took charge of the man at once, and led him to a seat not far +from the middle of the room. Yasmini, whose eyes were on Ranjoor +Singh every other second, noticed that the Sikh, having summed up the +European, had already lost all interest. + +But there, were other footsteps. The curtain parted again to admit a +second European, a somewhat older man, who glanced back over his +shoulder deferentially and, to Yasmini's unerring eye, tried to carry +off prudish timidity with an air of knowingness. + +"Who is he?" demanded Ranjoor Singh; and Yasmini rattled the +bracelets on her ankles loud enough to hide a whisper. + +"An agent," she answered. "He has an office here in Delhi. The first +man is his clerk, who is supposed to be the leader into mischief; +they have made him a little drunk lest he understand too much. I have +sent a maid to him that he may understand even less." + +The second man was closely followed by a third, and Yasmini +smothered a squeal of excitement, for she saw that Ranjoor Singh's +eyes were ablaze at last and that he had sat bolt upright without +knowing it. The third man was dressed like the other two in white +duck, but he wore his clothes not as they did. He was tall and +straight. One could easily enough imagine him dressed better. + +His quick, intelligent gray eyes swept over the whole room while he +took two steps, and at once picked out Yasmini as the mistress of the +place; but he waited to bow to her until the first man pointed her +out. Then it seemed to Ranjoor Singh--who was watching as minutely as +Yasmini in turn watched him--that, when he bowed, this tall, +confident-looking individual almost clicked his heels together, but +remembered not to do so just in time. The eyes of the East miss no +small details. Yasmini, letting her jeweled ankles jingle again, +chuckled to Ranjoor Singh. + +"And they say he comes from Europe selling goods," she whispered. +"The fat man who is frightened claims to be a customer for bales of +blankets. Since when has the customer been humble while the seller +calls the tune? Look!" + +The second arrival and the third sat down together as she spoke; and +while the second sat like a merchant, nursing fat hands on a +consequential paunch, the third sat straight-backed, kicking a little +sidewise with his left leg. Ranjoor Singh saw, too, that he kept his +heels a little more than a spur's length off from the divan's drapery. + +"Listen!" hissed Ranjoor Singh. + +Yasmini wriggled closer, and pretended to be watching her maids over +by the window. + +"That man who came last," said the risaldar-major, "has been told +that thou art like a spider, watching from the middle of the web of +India." + +"Then for once they have told the truth!" she chuckled. + +"In the bazaar he asked to be shown men of all the tribes, that he +might study their commercial needs. He was told to come here and meet +them; and these were sent for from the caravanserais. Is it not so?" + +"Art thou thyself for the Raj?" asked Yasmini. + +"I lead a squadron of Sikh cavalry," said Ranjoor Singh, "and you +ask me am I for the Raj?" + +"The buffalo that carries water for the office lawn is for the Raj!" +said Yasmini. + +"Then he and I are brothers." + +"And he, yonder--what of him?" She was growing impatient, for the +tune was nearly at an end, and it would be time presently for her to +take up the burden of entertainment. + +"He will ask, perhaps, to speak with a Sikh of influence." + +"Sahib, 'to hear is to obey,'" she mocked, rising to her feet. + +"Listen yet!" commanded Ranjoor Singh. "Serve me in this matter, and +there will be great reward. I, who am only one, might die by a +dagger, or a rope in the dark, or ground glass in my bread; but then +there would be a squadron, and perhaps a regiment, to ask questions." + +"Perhaps?" + +"Perhaps. Who knows?" + +He spoke from modesty, sure of the squadron that he loved so much +better than his life, but not caring to magnify his own importance by +claiming the regard of the other squadrons, too. But Yasmini, who +never in her life went straight from point to point of an idea and +never could believe that anybody else did, supposed he meant that one +squadron was in his confidence, whereas the rest had not yet been +sounded. + +"So speaks one who is for the Raj!" she grinned. + +Playing for profit and amusement, she never, never let anybody know +which side she had taken in any game. Therefore she despised a man +who showed his hand to her, as she believed Ranjoor Singh had done. +But she only showed contempt when it suited her, and by no means +always when she felt it. + +The minor music ceased and all eyes in the room were turned to her. +She rose to her feet as a hooded cobra comes toward its prey, sparing +a sidewise surreptitious smile of confidence for Ranjoor Singh that +no eye caught save his; yet as she turned from him and swayed in the +first few steps of a dance devised that minute, his quick ear caught +the truth of her opinion: + +"Buffalo!" she murmured. + +The flutes in the window wailed about mystery. The lights, and the +sandal-smoke, and the expectant silence emphasized it. Step by step, +as if the spirit of all dancing had its home in her, she told a +wordless tale, using her feet and every sinuous muscle as no other +woman in all India ever did. + +Men say that Yasmini is partly Russian, and that may be true, for +she speaks Russian fluently. Russian or not, the members of the +Russian ballet are the only others in the world who share her art. +Certainly, she keeps in touch with Russia, and knows more even than +the Indian government about what goes on beyond India's northern +frontier. She makes and magnifies the whole into a mystery; and her +dance that night expressed the fascination mystery has for her. + +And then she sang. It is her added gift of song that makes Yasmini +unique, for she can sing in any of a dozen languages, and besides the +love-songs that come southward from the hills, she knows all the +interminable ballads of the South and the Central Provinces. But +when, as that evening, she is at her best, mixing magic under the +eyes of the inquisitive, she sings songs of her own making and only +very rarely the same song twice. She sang that night of the winds of +the world which, she claims, carry the news to her; although others +say her sources of information speak more distinctly. + +It seemed that the thread of an idea ran through song and dance +alike, and that the hillmen and beyond-the-hills-men, who sat back-to- +the-wall and watched, could follow the meaning of it. They began to +crowd closer, to squat cross-legged on the floor, in circles one +outside the other, until the European three became the center of +three rings of men who stared at them with owls' solemnity. + +Then Yasmini ceased dancing. Then one of the Europeans drew his +watch out; and he had to show it to the other two before he could +convince them that they had sat for two hours without wanting to do +anything but watch and listen. + +"So _wass!_" said one of them--the drunken. + +_"Du lieber Gott--schon halb zwolf!"_ said the second. + +The third man made no remark at all. He was watching Ranjoor Singh. + +The risaldar--major had left the divan by the end wall and walked-- +all grim straight lines in contrast to Yasmini's curves--to a spot +directly facing the three Europeans; and it seemed there sat a +hillman on the piece of floor he coveted. + +"Get up!" he commanded. "Make room!" + +The hillman did not budge, for an Afridi pretends to feel for a Sikh +the scorn that a Sikh feels truly for Afridis. The flat of Ranjoor +Singh's foot came to his assistance, and the hillman budged. In an +instant he was on his feet, with a lightning right hand reaching for +his knife. + +But Yasmini allows no butcher's work on her premises, and her words +within those walls are law, since no man knows who is on whose side. +Yasmini beckoned him, and the Afridi slouched toward her sullenly. +She whispered something, and he started for the stairs at once, +without any further protest. + +Then there vanished all doubt as to which of the three Europeans was +most important. The man who had come in first had accepted sherbet +from the maid who sat beside him; he went suddenly from drowsiness to +slumber, and the woman spurned his bullet-head away from her +shoulder, letting him fall like a log among the cushions. The stout +second man looked frightened and sat nursing helpless hands. But the +third man sat forward, and tense silence fell on the assembly as the +eyes of every man sought his. + +Only Yasmini, hovering in the background, had time to watch anything +other than those gray European eyes; she saw that they were +interested most in Ranjoor Singh, and the maids who noticed her +expression of sweet innocence knew that she was thinking fast. + +"You are a Sikh?" said the gray-eyed man; and the crowd drew in its +breath, for he spoke Hindustani with an accent that very few achieve, +even with long practise. + +"Then you are of a brave nation--you will understand me. The Sikhs +are a martial race. Their theory of politics is based on the military +spirit--is it not so?" + +Ranjoor Singh, who understood and tried to live the Sikh religion +with all his gentlemanly might, was there to acquire information, not +to impart it. He grunted gravely. + +"All martial nations expand eventually. They tell me--I have heard-- +some of you Sikhs have tried Canada?" + +Ranjoor Singh did not wince, though his back stiffened when the men +around him grinned; it is a sore point with the Sikhs that Canada +does not accept their emigrants. + +"Sikhs are admitted into all the German colonies," said the man with +the gray eyes. "They are welcome." + +"Do many go?" asked Ranjoor Singh. + +"That is the point. The Sikhs want a place in the sun from which +they are barred at present--eh? Now, Germany--" + +"Germany? Where is Germany?" asked Yasmini. She understands the last +trick in the art of getting a story on its way. "To the west is +England. Farther west, Ameliki. To the north lies Russia. To the +south the _kali pani_-ocean. Where is Germany?" + +The man with the gray eyes took her literally, since his nation are +not slow at seizing opportunity. He launched without a word more of +preliminary into a lecture on Germany that lasted hours and held his +audience spellbound. It was colorful, complete, and it did not seem +to have been memorized. But that was art. + +He had no word of blame for England. He even had praise, when praise +made German virtue seem by that much greater; and the inference from +first to last was of German super-virtue. + +Some one in the crowd--who bore a bullet-mark in proof he did not +jest--suggested to him that the British army was the biggest and +fiercest in the world. So he told them of a German army, millions +strong, that marched in league--long columns--an army that guarded by +the prosperous hundred thousand factory chimneys that smoked until +the central European sky was black. + +Long, long after midnight, in a final burst of imagination, he +likened Germany to a bee--hive from which a swarm must soon emerge +for lack of room inside. And he proved, then, that he knew he had +made an impression on them, for he dismissed them with an impudence +that would have set them laughing at him when he first began to speak. + +"Ye have my leave to go!" he said, as if he owned the place; and +they all went except one. + +"That is a lot of talk," said Ranjoor Singh, when the last man had +started for the stairs. "What does it amount to? When will the bees +swarm?" + +The German eyed him keenly, but the Sikh's eyes did not flinch. + +"What is your rank?" the German asked. + +"Squadron leader!" + +"Oh!" + +The two stood up, and now there was no mistake about the German's +heels; they clicked. The two were almost of a height, although the +Sikh's head--dress made him seem the taller. They were both unusually +fine--looking men, and limb for limb they matched. + +"If war were in Europe you would be taken there to fight," said the +German. + +Ranjoor Singh showed no surprise. + +"Whether you wanted to fight or not." + +There was no hint of laughter in the Sikh's brown eyes. + +"Germany has no quarrel with the Sikhs." + +"I have heard of none," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"Wherever the German flag should fly, after a war, the Sikhs would +have free footing." + +Ranjoor Singh looked interested, even pleased. + +"Who is not against Germany is for her." + +"Let us have plain words' said Ranjoor Singh, leading the way to a +corner in which he judged they could not be overheard; there he +turned suddenly, borrowing a trick from Yasmini. + +"I am a Sikh--a patriot. What are you offering?" + +"The freedom of the earth!" the German answered. "Self--government! +The right to emigrate. Liberty!" + +"On what condition? For a bargain has two sides." + +"That the Sikhs fail England!" + +"When?" + +"When the time comes! What is the answer?" + +"I will answer when the time comes," answered Ranjoor Singh, +saluting stiffly before turning on his heel. + +Then he stalked out of the room, with a slight bow to Yasmini as he +passed. + +"Buffalo!" she murmured after him. "Jat buffalo!" + +Then the Germans went away, after some heavy compliments that seemed +to amuse Yasmini prodigiously, helping along the man who had drunk +sherbet and who now seemed inclined to weep. They dragged him down +the stairs between them, backward. Yasmini waited at the stair--head +until she heard them pull him into a _gharri_ and drive away. +Then she turned to her favorite maid. + +"Them--those cattle--I understand!" she said. "But it does not suit +me that a Sikh, a Jat, a buffalo, should come here making mysteries +of his own without consulting me! And what does not suit me I do not +tolerate! Go, get that Afridi whom the soldier kicked--I told him to +wait outside in the street until I sent for him." + +The Afridi came, nearly as helpless as the man who had drunk +sherbet, though less tearful and almost infinitely more resentful. +What clothing had not been torn from him was soaked in blood, and +there was no inch of him that was not bruised. + +"Krishna!" said Yasmini impiously. + +"Allah!" swore the Afridi. + +"Who did it? What has happened?" + +"Outside in the street I said to some men who waited that Ranjoor +Singh the Sikh is a bastard. From then until now they beat me, only +leaving off to follow him hence when he came out through the door!" + +Yasmini laughed, peal upon peal of silver laughter--of sheer +merriment. + +"The gods love Yasmini!" she chuckled. "Aye, the gods love me! The +Jat spoke of a squadron; it is evident that he spoke truth. So his +squadron watched him here! Go, _jungli_! Go, wash the blood +away. Thou shalt have revenge! Come again to--morrow. Nay, go now, I +would sleep when I have finished laughing. Aye--the gods love +Yasmini!" + + + The West Wind blows through the Ajmere Gate + And whispers low (Oh, listen ye!), + "The fed wolf curls by his drowsy mate + In a tight--trod earth; but the lean wolves wait, + And the hunger gnaws!" (Oh, listen ye!) + "Can fed wolves fight? But yestere'en + Their eyes were bright, their fangs were clean; + They viewed, they took but yestere'en," + (Oh, listen, wise heads, listen ye!) + "Because they fed, is blood less red, + Or fangs less sharp, or hunger dead?" + (Look well to the loot, and listen ye!) + +YASMINI'S SONG + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +The colonel of Outram's Own dropped into a club where he was only +one, and not the greatest, of many men entitled to respect. There +were three men talking by a window, their voices drowned by the din +of rain on the veranda roof, each of whom nodded to him. He chose, +however, a solitary chair, for, though subalterns do not believe it, +a colonel has exactly that diffidence about approaching senior +civilians which a subaltern ought to feel. + +In a moment all that was visible of him from the door was a pair of +brown riding-boots, very much fore-shortened, resting on the long arm +of a cane chair, and two sets of wonderfully modeled fingers that +held up a newspaper. From the window where the three men talked he +could be seen in profile. + +"Wears well--doesn't he?" said one of them. + +"Swears well, too, confound him!" + +"Hah! Been trying to pump him, eh?" + +"Yes. He's like a big bird catching flies--picks off your questions +one at a time, with one eye on you and the other one cocked for the +next question. Get nothing out of him but yes or no. Good fellow, +though, when you're not drawing him." + +"You mean trying to draw him. He's the best that come. Wish they +were all like Kirby." + +The man who had not spoken yet--he looked younger, was some years +older, and watched the faces of the other two while seeming to listen +to something in the distance--looked at a cheap watch nervously. + +"Wish the Sikhs were all like Kirby!" he said. "If this business +comes to a head, we're going to wish we had a million Kirbys. What +did he say? Temper of his men excellent, I suppose?" + +"Used that one word." "Um-m-m! No suspicions, eh?" "Said, 'No, no +suspicions!'" "Uh! I'll have a word with him." He waddled off, +shaking his drab silk suit into shape and twisting a leather +watch-guard around his finger. + +"Believe it will come to anything?" asked one of the two men he had +left behind. + +"Dunno. Hope not. Awful business if it does." + +"Remember how we were promised a world-war two years ago, just +before the Balkans took fire?" + +"Yes. That was a near thing, too. But they weren't quite ready then. +Now they are ready, and they think we're not. If I were asked, I'd +say we ought to let them know we're ready for 'em. They want to fight +because they think they can catch us napping; they'd think twice if +they knew they couldn't do it." + +"Are they blind and deaf? Can't they see and hear?" + +"_Quern deus vult perdere, prius dementat_, Ponsonby, my boy." + +The man in drab silk slipped into a chair next to Kirby's as a wolf +slips into his lair, very circumspectly, and without noise; then he +rutched the chair sidewise toward Kirby with about as much noise as a +company of infantry would make. + +"Had a drink?" he asked, as Kirby looked up from his paper. "Have +one?" + +"Ginger ale, please," said Kirby, putting the paper down. + +A turbaned waiter brought long glasses in which ice tinkled, and the +two sipped slowly, not looking at each other. + +"Know Yasmini?" asked the man in drab silk suddenly. + +"Heard of her, of course." + +"Ever see her?" + +"No." + +"Ah! Most extraordinary woman. Wonderful!" + +Kirby looked puzzled, and held his peace. + +"Any of your officers ever visit her?" + +"Not when they're supposed to be on duty." + +"But at other times?" + +"None of my affair if they do. Don't know, I'm sure." + +"Um-m-m!" + +"Yes," said Kirby, without vehemence. + +"Look at his beak!" said one of the two men by the window. "Never +see a big bird act that way? Look at his bright eye!" + +"Wish mine were as bright, and my beak as aquiline; means directness +--soldierly directness, that does!" + +"Who is your best native officer, supposing you've any choice?" +asked the man in the drab silk suit, speaking to the ceiling +apparently. + +"Ranjoor Singh," said Kirby promptly. + +It was quite clear there was no doubt in his mind. + +"How is he best? In what way?" + +"Best man I've got. Fit to command the regiment." + +"Um-m-m!" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +The man in drab sat sidewise and caught Kirby's eye, which was not +difficult. There was nothing furtive about him. + +"With a censorship that isn't admitted, but which has been rather +obvious for more than a month; with all forces undergoing field +training during the worst of the rains--it's fair to suppose your men +smell something?" + +"They've been sweating, certainly." + +"Do they smell a rat?" + +"Yes." + +"Ask questions?" + +"Yes." + +"What do you tell them?" + +"That I don't know, and they must wait until I do." + +"Any recent efforts been made to tamper with them?" + +"Not more than I reported. You know, of course, of the translations +from Canadian papers, discussing the rejection of Sikh immigrants? +Each man received a copy through the mail." + +"Yes. We caught the crowd who printed that. Couldn't discover, +though, how it got into the regiment's mail bags without being +postmarked. Let's see--wasn't Ranjoor Singh officer-of-the-day?" + +"Yes." + +"Um-m-m! Would it surprise you to know that Ranjoor Singh visits +Yasmini?" + +"Wouldn't interest me." + +"What follows is in strict confidence, please." + +"I'm listening." + +"I want you to hear reason. India, the whole of India, mind, has its +ear to the ground. All up and down the length of the land--in every +bazaar--in the ranks of every native regiment--it's known that people +representing some other European Power are trying to sow discontent +with our rule; and it's obvious to any native that we're on the watch +for something big that we expect to break any minute. Is that clear?" + +"Yes." + +"Our strongest card is the loyalty of the native troops." + +"Yes." + +"Everybody knows that. Also, this thing we're looking for is most +damnably real--might burst to-day, to-morrow--any time. So, even with +the censorship in working order, it wouldn't be wise to arrest a +native officer merely on suspicion." + +"I'd arrest one of mine," said Kirby, "if I had any reason to +suspect him for a second." + +"Wouldn't be wise! You mustn't!" The man in drab silk shook his +head. "Now, suppose you were to arrest Ranjoor Singh--" + +Kirby laughed outright. + +"Suppose the Chandni Chowk were Regent Street!" he jeered. + +"Last night," said the man in drab silk, "Risaldar-Major Ranjoor +Singh visited Yasmini, leaving six or more of the men of his squadron +waiting for him in the street outside. In Yasmini's room he listened +for hours to a lecture on Germany, delivered by a German who has +British naturalization papers, whether forged or not is not yet clear. + +"After the lecture he had a private conversation lasting some +minutes with the German who says he is an Englishman, and who, by the +way, speaks Hindustani like a native. And, before he started home, +his men who waited in the street thrashed an Afridi within an inch of +his life for threatening to report Ranjoor Singh's presence at the +lecture to the authorities." + +"Who told you this?" asked Colonel Kirby. + +"The Afridi, Yasmini, and three hillmen who were there by +invitation. I spoke with them all less than an hour ago. They all +agree. But if Ranjoor Singh were asked about it, he would lie himself +out of it in any of a dozen ways, and would be on his guard in +future. If he were arrested, it would bring to a head what may prove +to be a passing trifle; it would make the men angry, and the news +would spread, whatever we might do to prevent it." + +"What am I to understand that you want, then?" asked Kirby. + +"Watch him closely, without letting him suspect it." + +"Before I'd seriously consider orders to do that, they'd have to +come through military channels in the regular way," said Kirby, +without emotion. + +"I could arrange that, of course. I'll mention it to Todhunter." + +"And if the order reached me in the regular way, I'd resign rather +than carry it out." + +"Um-m-m!" said the man in drab silk. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"You seem to forget that I, too, represent a government department, +and have the country's interests at heart. Do you imagine I have a +grudge against Ranjoor Singh?" + +"I forget nothing of the kind," said Kirby, "and imagination doesn't +enter into it. I know Ranjoor Singh, and that's enough. If he's a +traitor, so am I. If he's not a loyal gallant officer, then I'm not +either. I'll stand or fall by his honor, for I know the man and you +don't." + +"Uh!" said the man in drab silk. + +"Yes," said Colonel Kirby. + +"Look!" said one of the two men at the window. "Direct as a hornet's +sting--isn't a kink in him! Look at the angle of his chin!" + +"You can tell his Sikh officers; they imitate him." + +"Do I understand you to refuse me point--blank?" asked the man in +the drab suit, still fidgeting with his watch--guard. Perhaps he +guessed that two men in the window were discussing him. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"I shall have to go over your head." + +"Understand me, then. If an order of that kind reaches me, I shall +arrest Ranjoor Singh at once, so that he may stand trial and be +cleared like a gentleman. I'll have nothing done to one of my +officers that would be intolerable if done to me, so long as I +command the regiment!" + +"What alternative do you suggest?" asked the man in gray, with a wry +face. + +"Ask Ranjoor Singh about it." + +"Who? You or I?" + +"He wouldn't answer you." + +"Then ask him yourself. But I shall remember, Colonel Kirby, that +you did not oblige me in the matter." + +"Very well," said Kirby, + +"Another drink?" + +"No, thanks." + +"Who won?" asked one of the two men in the window. + +"Kirby!" + +"I don't think so. I've been watching his face. He's the least bit +rattled. It's somebody else who has won; he's been fighting another +man's battle. But it's obvious who lost--look at that watch-chain +going! Come away." + + +_If a man has a price at all, his price is neither high nor low, but +just that price that you will pay him._ + +NATIVE PROVERB. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Of course an Afridi can be depended on to overdo anything. The +particular Afridi whom Ranjoor Singh had kicked was able to see very +little virtue in Yasmin's method of attack. Suckled in a mountain- +range where vengeance is believed as real and worthy as love must be +transitory, his very bowels ached for physical retaliation, just as +his skin and bones smarted from the beating the risaldar-major's men +had given him. + +He was scoffed at by small boys as he slunk through byways of the +big bazaar. A woman who had smiled at him but a day ago now emptied +unseemly things on him from an upper story when he went to moan +beneath her window. He decided to include that woman in his +vengeance, too, if possible, but not to miss Ranjoor Singh on her +account; there was not room for him and Ranjoor Singh on one rain- +pelted earth, but, if needs must, the woman might wait a while. + +As nearly all humans do when their mood is similar to his, he slunk +into dark places, growling like a dog and believing all the world his +enemy. He came very near to the summit of exasperation when, on +making application at a free dispensary, his sores were dressed for +him by a Hindu assistant apothecary who lectured him on brotherly +love with interlarded excerpts from Carlyle done into Hindustani. But +the climax came when a native policeman poked him in the ribs with a +truncheon and ordered him out of sight. + +With a snarl that would have done credit to a panther driven off its +prey, he slunk up a byway to shelter himself and think of new +obscenities; and as he stood beneath a cloth awning to await the +passing of a more than usually heavy downpour, the rotten fibers +burst at last and let ten gallons of filthy rain down on him. + +From that minute he could see only red; so it was in a red haze that +two of the troopers from Ranjoor Singh's squadron passed the end of +the lane. He felt himself clutching at a red knife, breathing red air +through distended nostrils. He forgot his sores; forgot to feel them. + +As he hunted the two troopers through the maze of streets, he +recognized them for two of the men who had thrashed him; so he drew +closer, for fear they might escape him in the crowd. Now that he no +longer wandered objectless, but looked ahead and walked with a will +and a purpose, street-corner "constabeels" ceased to trouble him; +there were too many people in those thronged, kaleidoscopic streets +for any but the loafers to be noticed. He drew nearer and nearer to +the troopers, all unsuspected. + +But the pace was fast, and they approached their barracks, where his +chance of ramming a knife into them and getting away unseen would be +increasingly more remote; and he had no desire to die until he had +killed the other four men, Ranjoor Singh himself, and the woman who +had spurned his love. He must kill these two, he decided, while yet +safe from barrack hue and cry. + +He crept yet closer, and--now that his plan was forming in his mind- +began to see less red. In a minute more he recognized a house at a +street corner, whose lower story once had been a shop, but that now +was boarded up and showed from outside little sign of occupation. But +he saw that the door at the end of an alley by the building was ajar, +and through a chink between the shutters of an upper story his keen +northern eyes detected lamp-light. That was enough. He set his teeth +and drew his long clean knife. + +Wounds, bruises, pain, all mean nothing to a hillman when there is +murder in his eye, unless they be spurs that goad him to greater +frenzy and more speed. The troopers swaggered at a drilled man's +marching pace; the Afridi came like a wind--devil, ripping down a +gully from the northern hills, all frenzy. + +Had he not seen red again, had only a little brain--work mingled in +his rage, he would have scored a clean victory and have been free to +wreak red vengeance on the rest. As it was, rage mastered him, and he +yelled as he drove the long knife home between the shoulders of one +of the troopers in front of him. + +That yell was a mistake, for he was dealing with picked, drilled men +of birth and a certain education. The struck man sank to his knees, +but the other turned in time to guard the next blow with his forearm; +he seized a good fistful of the Afridi's bandages and landed hard on +his naked foot with the heel of an ammunition boot. The Afridi +screamed like a wild beast as he wrenched himself away, leaving the +bandages in the trooper's hand; and for an instant the trooper half +turned to succor his comrade. + +"Nay, after him!" urged the wounded man in the Jat tongue; and, +seeing a crowd come running from four directions, the Sikh let him +lie, to race after the Afridi. + +He caught little more than a glimpse of torn clothes disappearing +through the little door at the end of the alley by the boarded shop, +and a second after he had started in pursuit he saw the door shut +with a slam and thought he heard a bolt snick home. + +The door, though small, looked stout, and, thinking as he charged to +the assault, the Sikh put all the advantage he had of weight, and +steel-shod boots, and strength, and speed into the effort. A yard +from the door he took off, as a man does at the broad jump in the +inter-regimental sports, landing against the lower panel with his +heels two feet from the bottom. + +The door went inward as if struck by a blast of dynamite, and the +Sikh's head struck a flagstone. Long strong arms seized him by the +feet and dragged him inside. Then the door closed again, and this +time a bolt really did shoot home, to be followed by two others and a +bar that fitted vertically into the beam above and the floor beneath. + +Outside, thirty feet from the street corner, the crowd came together +as a tide-race meets amid the rocks, roaring, shouting, surging, +swaying back and forth, nine-tenths questioning at the limit of its +lungs, and one-tenth yelling information that was false before they +had it. Those at the back believed already that there were ten men +down. In the next street there was supposed to be a riot. And the +shrill repeated whistle of the nearest policeman summoning help +confirmed the crowd in its belief, besides convincing it of new +atrocities as yet unguessed. + +Only one man in the crowd had wit enough to carry the tale to +barracks where it might be expected to produce action. He was a +Bengali babu, bare of leg and fat of paunch, who had enough +imagination to conceive of a regiment in receipt of the news, and the +mental picture so appealed to him that he held his protruding stomach +in both hands while he ran down-street like a landslide, his mouth +agape and his eyes all but popping from his head. + +He reached the barrack gate speechless and breathless, just as +Ranjoor Singh rode up on Bagh, mud-plastered after an afternoon's +work teaching scouts. He clung to the risaldar-major's stirrup, and +was dragged ten feet, slobbering and bubbling incoherencies, before +the savage charger could be reined in and made to stand. + +"What is it, oh, _babuji?_" laughed Ranjoor Singh. "Are the +Moslems out after your temple gods?" + +"Aha! Run! Gallop! Bring all the guns!" This in English, all of it. +"Blood in the gutter--blood like water--twentee policemen are already +dead, and your men have done it! Gallop quicklee. _Jaldee, +jaldee!_" + +"Go and get twenty more policemen to wipe away the blood!" advised +Ranjoor Singh, sitting back in the saddle to get a better look at +him, and reining back the impatient Bagh. "I am not a constabeel; I +am a soldier." + +"Aha! Yes. You better hurry. All your men are underneath--what-you- +call-it?--bottom dog. You better hurry like slippery! One Afridi is +beginning things, and where is one Afridi with a long knife are many +more kinds of trouble!" + +The babu was recovering his breath, and with it his yearning to +behold a regiment careering through the barrack gate to the rescue. +He still clung to the stirrup, and since he would not let go, Ranjoor +Singh proceeded to tow him, with a cautious, booted right leg ready +to spur Bagh away to the left should the brute commence to kick. + +"You are hard-hearted person, and your fate is forever sealed if you +refuse to listen!" wailed the babu. "The blood of your men lies in +street calling aloud for vengeance!" A university education works +wonders for babu vocabulary. "I tell you it is a riot, and most +extremelee serious affair!" + +That was the wrong appeal to make, as the babu himself would have +known had he been less excited. In time of riot the place for a Sikh +officer would be at the regiment's headquarters, in readiness for the +order from a civil magistrate without which interference would cost +him his commission. But the babu was beside himself, what with +breathlessness and disappointment. He decided it was expedient to +strengthen his appeal, and his imagination was still working. + +"There will be two regiments of Tommees--drunken Tommees, +presentlee. They will take your men to jail. The Tommees are already +on the way. Should they get there first your men will be +everlastinglee disgraced as well as muleted. You should hurry." + +Ranjoor Singh ceased from frowning and looked satisfied. If there +were trouble enough in the bazaar to call for the despatch of British +soldiers to the scene, then nothing in the world was more certain +than that any men of his who happened to be in danger would be +rescued with neatness and speed. If there was no trouble yet, there +would very likely be some swearing when the soldiers got there. In +the meantime he was wet through, both with rain and perspiration. The +thought of a bath and dry clothes urged him like the voice of a siren +calling; and he had shown the babu all the courtesy his Sikh creed +and profession demanded. + +So he clucked to Bagh, and the big brute plunged into a canter, just +as eager for his sais and gram as his master was for clean dry +clothes. For two strides the babu clung to the stirrup, wrenching it +free from the risaldar-major's foot; then the horse grew savage at +the unaccustomed extra weight, and lashed out hard behind him, +missing the babu twice in quick succession, but filling him full to +the stuttering teeth with fear. Ranjoor Singh touched the horse with +his right spur, and in a second the babu lay along on his stomach in +the mud. + +He lay for a minute, believing himself dead. Then he cried aloud, +since he knew he must be broken into pieces. Then he felt himself. At +last he rose, and after a speechless glance at the back of the +risaldar-major, started slowly along the street toward where the +"riot" was. + +"It is enough," he said in English, since he was a "failed B.A.," +"to try the patience of Job's comforter. This militaree business has +corrupted even Sikh cavalry until they no longer are dependable. Yes. +It is time! It is time indeed that German influence be felt, in order +that British yoke may be cast off for good and all. Now I take it a +German soldier would have arrested everybodee, and I would have +received much _kudos_ in addition to cash reward paid for +information. In meantime, it is to be seen whether or not--yes, +precisely--a pencil is mightier than a sword, which means that a babu +is superior in wit and general attainments. Let us see!" + +He began to run again, at a truly astonishing pace, considering his +paunch and all-round ungainliness, getting over the ground faster +than many a thin man could have done. As he ran his lips worked, for +though he had no breath to spare for speech, his brain was forming +words that crowded for expression. + +"The Sikhs!" he screamed, as he came within earshot of the milling +crowd, through which four small policemen were trying to force a +path. "The Sikhs! They ride to the rescue!" + +"The Sikhs!" yelled somebody on the edge of the crowd, who had more +breath but not enough imagination to ask questions. "The Sikhs are +coming! Run!" + +"The Sikhs! The Sikhs!" + +The crowd took it up. And since it was a crowd, and there was +nothing else to do; and since it had had protection but no violence +at Sikh hands ever since '57; and since the babu really did look +frightened, it shouted that the Sikhs were coming until it believed +the news and had made itself thoroughly afraid. + +"Run, brothers!" shouted some man in the middle who owned a voice +like a bull-buffalo's. And that being a new idea and just as good as +any, the whole crowd took to its heels, leaving the four policemen +staring at the body of a dead Sikh, and the fat babu complacently +regarding all of them. + +Presently a European police officer trotted up on a white pony, +examined the body, asked a dozen questions of the four policemen, +wrote in his memorandum book, and ordered the body to be taken to the +morgue. + +"Come here, you!" he called to the babu. + +So the babu waddled to him, judging his salaam shrewdly so that it +suggested deference while leaving no doubt as to the intended insult. + +"What do you know about this?" + +"As peaceful citizen in pursuance of daily bread and other +perquisites, I claim protection of police! While proceeding on way +was thrown to ground violentlee by galloping horse whose rider urged +same in opposite direction. Observe my deshabille. Regard this mud on +my person. I insist on full rigor of the law for which I am taxed +inordinately." + +"What sort of a horse? Who rode it? How long ago?" + +"Am losing all count of time since being overwhelmed. Should say +veree recently, however. The horse was ridden by a person who urged +it vehemently. It was a brown horse, I think." + +"Which way did he go?" + +"How should I know? He went away, knocking me over in transit and +causing me great distress." + +"Was he armed?" + +"Two arms. With one he steered the animal. With the other he urged +him, thus." + +The babu described in pantomime an imaginary human riding for his +life, whom not even the adroitest police officer could recognize as +Ranjoor Singh, even had he been acquainted with the risaldar-major. + +"Had he a weapon of any kind?" + +"Not knowing, would prefer to say nothing about that. It was with +the horse--with the rump of the animal that he hit me, and not with a +sword of any kind." + +"Well, you had better come with me to the office, and there we'll +take down your deposition." + +"Am I arrested?" + +"No. You're a witness." + +"On the contrary, I am prosecutor! I demand as stated formerly full +rigor of the law. I demand capture and arrest, together with fine and +imprisonment of party assaulting me, failing which I shall address +complaint to government!" + +"Come along. We'll talk about that at the office." + +So the babu was escorted to the stuffy little police office, where +he was made to sit on a bench beside ten native witnesses of other +crimes; and presently he was called to a desk at which a native clerk +presided. There he was made to recite his story again, and since he +had had time in which to think, he told a most amazing, disconnected +yarn that looked even more untruthful by the time the clerk had +written his own version of it on a sheet. To this version the babu +was required to swear, and he did so without a blink. + +Then there was more delay, while somebody was found who knew him and +could certify to his address, and it was nearly evening by the time +he was allowed to go. + + * * * * * + +It was also nearly evening when a messenger arrived at the barracks +to report the death of a Sikh trooper by murder in the bazaar. The +man's name and regimental number proved him to have been one of D +Squadron's men, and since its commander, Ranjoor Singh, was then in +quarters, the news was brought to him at once. + +"Killed where?" he demanded; so they told him. + +"Exactly when?" + +It became evident to Ranjoor Singh that there had been some truth +after all in the babu's tale. The verbal precis of the only witness, +given from memory, about a man who galloped away on horseback, threw +no light at all on the case; so, because he could think of nothing +better to do at the moment, the risaldar-major sent for a _tikka- +gharri_ and drove down to the morgue to identify the body. + +On the way back from the morgue he looked in at the police station, +but the babu had been gone some ten minutes when he arrived. + +The police could tell him nothing. It was explained that the crowd +directly after the murder had been too great to allow any but those +nearest to see anything; and it was admitted that the crowd had been +suddenly panic-stricken and had scattered before the police could +secure witnesses. So he drove away, wondering, and ordered the driver +to follow the road taken by the murdered trooper. + +It was just on the edge of evening, when the lighted street-lamps +were yet too pale to show distinctly, that he passed the disused +boarded shop and saw, on the side of the street opposite, the babu +who had brought him the story of riot that afternoon. He stopped his +carriage and stepped out. On second thought he ordered the carriage +away, for he was in plain clothes and not likely to attract notice; +and he had a suspicion in his mind that he might care to investigate +a little on his own account. He walked straight to the babu, and that +gentleman eyed him with obvious distrust. + +"Did you see my trooper murdered?" he demanded; for he had learned +directness under Colonel Kirby, and applied it to every difficulty +that confronted him. + +Natives understand directness from an Englishman, and can parry it; +but from another native it bewilders them, just as a left-handed +swordsman is bewildered by another left-hander. The babu blinked. + +"How much had you seen when you ran to warn me this afternoon?" + +The babu looked pitiful. His fat defenseless body was an absolute +contrast to the Sikh's tall manly figure. His eye was furtive, +glancing ever sidewise; but the Sikh looked straight and spoke +abruptly though with a note of kindness in his voice. + +"There is no need to fear me," he said, since the babu would not +answer. "Speak! How much do you know?" + +So the babu took heart of grace, producing a voice from somewhere +down in his enormous stomach and saying, of course, the very last +thing expected of him. + +"Grief chokes me!" he asserted. + +"Take care that I choke thee not, _babuji_! I have asked a +question. I am no lawyer to maneuver for my answer. Did you see that +trooper killed?" + +The babu nodded; but his nod was not much more than tentative. He +could have denied it next minute without calling much on his +imagination. + +"Oh! Which way went the murderer?" + +"Grief overwhelms me!" said the babu. + +"Grief for what?" + +"For my money--my good money--my emoluments!" + +Direct as an arrow though he was in all his dealings, Ranjoor Singh +had not forgotten how the Old East thinks. He recognized the +preliminaries of a bargain, and searched his mind to recall how much +money he had with him; to have searched his pocket would have been +too puerile. + +"What of them?" + +"Lost!" + +"Where? How?" + +"While standing here, observing movements of him whom I suspected to +be murderer, a person unknown--possibly a Sikh--perhaps not--removed +money surreptitiously from my person." + +"How much money?" + +"Rupees twenty-five, annas eight," said the babu unwinking. He +neither blushed nor hesitated. + +"I will take compassion on your loss and replace five rupees of it," +said Ranjoor Singh, "when you have told me which way the murderer +went." + +"My eyes are too dim, and my heart too full with grief," said the +babu. "No man's memory works under such conditions. Now, that money--" + +"I will give you ten rupees," said Ranjoor Singh. + +This was too easy! The babu was prepared to bargain for an hour, +fighting for rupee after rupee until his wit assured him he had +reached the limit. Now he began to believe he had set the limit far +too low. + +"I do not remember," he said slowly but with great conviction, +scratching at his stomach as if he kept his recollections stored there. + +"You said twenty-five rupees, eight annas? Well, I will pay the half +of it, and no more," said Ranjoor Singh in a new voice that seemed to +suggest unutterable things. "Moreover, I will pay it when I have +proved thy memory true. Now, scratch that belly of thine and let the +thoughts come forth!" + +"Nay, sahib, I forget." + +Ranjoor Singh drew out his purse and counted twelve rupees and three +quarters into the palm of his hand. + +"Which way?" he demanded. + +"Twenty-five rupees, eight annas of earned emolument--gone while I +watched the movements of a murderer! It is not easy to keep brave +heart and remember things!" + +"See here, thou bellyful of memories! Remember and tell me, or I +return this money to my purse and march thee by the nape of thy fat +neck to the police station, where they will put thee in a cell for +the night and jog thy memory in ways the police are said to +understand! Speak! Here, take the money!" + +The babu reached out a fat hand and the silver changed owners. + +"There!" said the babu, jerking a thumb over his right shoulder. +"Through that door!" + +"That narrow teak door, down the passage?" + +But the babu was gone, hurrying as if goaded by fear of hell and all +its angels. + +Ranjoor Singh strode across the street in a bee-line and entered the +dark passage. He had seen the yellow light of a lamp-flame through a +chink in an upper shutter, and he intended to try directness on the +problem once again. It was ten full paces down the passage to the +door; he counted them, finishing the last one with a kick against the +panel that would have driven it in had it been less than teak. + +There came no answer, so he kicked again. Then he beat on the door +with his clenched fists. Presently he turned his back to the door and +kept up a steady thunder on it with his heels. And then, after about +five minutes, he heard movement within. + +He congratulated himself then that the noise he had made had called +the attention of passers-by and of all the neighbors, and though he +had had no fear and no other intention than to enter the house at all +costs, he certainly had that much less compunction now. + +He heard three different bolts drawn back, and then there was a +pause. He thought he heard whispering, so he resumed his thunder. +Almost at once there followed the unmistakable squeak of a big beam +turning on its pivot, and the door opened about an inch. + +He pushed, but some one inside pushed harder, and the door closed +again. So Ranjoor Singh leaned all his weight and strength against +the door, drawing in his breath and shoving with all his might. +Resistance ceased. The door flew inward, as it had done once before +that day, and closed with a bang behind him. + + + Long were the days and oh! wicked the weather-- + Endless and thankless the round-- + Grinding God's Grit into rookies together; + I was the upper stone, he was the nether, + And Gad, sir, they groaned as we ground! + Bitter the blame (but he helped me to bear it), + Grim the despair that we ate! + But hell's loose! The dam's down, and none can repair it! + 'Tis our turn! Go, summon my brother to share it! + His squadron's at arms, and we wait! + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +A regiment is more exacting of its colonel than ever was lady of her +lord; the more truly he commands, the better it loves him, until at +last the regiment swallows him and he becomes part of it, in thought +and word and deed. Distractions such as polo, pig-sticking, tiger- +shooting are tolerable insofar as they steady his nerve and train his +hand and eye; to that extent they, too, subserve the regiment. But a +woman is a rival. So it is counted no sin against a cavalry colonel +should he be a bachelor. + +There remained no virtue, then, in the eyes of Outram's Own for +Colonel Kirby to acquire; he had all that they could imagine, besides +at least a dozen they had not imagined before he came to them. There +was not one black-bearded gentleman who couched a lance behind him +but believed Colonel Kirby some sort of super-man; and, in return, +Colonel Kirby found the regiment so satisfying that there was not +even a lady on the sky-line who could look forward to encroaching on +the regiment's preserves. + +His heart, his honor, and his rare ability were all the regiment's, +and the regiment knew it; so he was studied as is the lot of few. His +servant knew which shoes he would wear on a Thursday morning, and +would have them ready; the mess-cook spiced the curry so exactly to +his taste that more than one cook-book claimed it to be a species +apart and labeled it with his name. If he frowned, the troopers knew +somebody had tried to flatter him; if he smiled, the regiment +grinned; and when his face lacked all expression, though his eyes +were more than usually quick, officer, non-commissioned officer and +man alike would sit tight in the saddle, so to speak, and gather up +their reins. + +His mood was recognized that afternoon as he drove back from the +club while he was yet four hundred yards away, although twilight was +closing down. The waler mare--sixteen three and a half, with one +white stocking and a blaze that could be seen from the sky-line-- +brought his big dog-cart through the street mud at a speed which +would have insured the arrest of the driver of a motor; but that, if +anything, was a sign of ordinary health. + +Nor was the way he took the corner by the barrack gate, on one +wheel, any criterion; he always did it, just as he never failed to +acknowledge the sentry's salute by raising his whip. It needed the +observant eyes of Outram's Own to detect the rather strained calmness +and the almost inhumanly active eye. + +"Beware!" called the sentry, while he was yet three hundred yards +away. "Be awake!" + +"Be awake! Be awake! Beware!" + +The warning went from lip to lip, troop to troop, from squadron +stables on to squadron stables, until six hundred men were ready for +all contingencies. A civilian might not have recognized the +difference, but Kirby's soldier servant awakened from his nap on the +colonel's door-mat and straightened his turban in a hurry, perfectly +well aware that there was something in the wind. + +It was too early to dress for dinner yet; too late to dress for +games of any kind. The servant was nonplussed. He stood in silence, +awaiting orders that under ordinary circumstances, or at an ordinary +hour, would have been unnecessary. But for a while no orders came. +The only sound in those extremely unmarried quarters was the steady +drip of water into a flat tin bath that the servant had put beneath a +spot where the roof leaked; the rain had ceased but the ceiling cloth +still drooped and drooled. + +Suddenly Kirby threw himself backward into a long chair, and the +servant made ready for swift action. + +"Present my compliments to Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh sahib, and +ask him to be good enough to see me here." + +The servant saluted and was gone. Kirby relapsed again into the +depth of the chair, staring at the wall in front of him, letting his +eye travel from one to another of the accurately spaced-out pictures, +pieces of furniture and trophies that proclaimed him unmarried. There +was nothing whatever in his quarters to decoy him from his love. +There were polo sticks in a corner where a woman would have placed a +standard lamp, and where the flowers should have stood was a chest to +hold horse-medicines. There was a vague smell about the place of +varnish, polish and good leather. + +The servant was back again, stiff at the salute, within five minutes. + +"_Ne hai_." + +"Not there? Not where? Not in his quarters? Then go and find him. +Ask where he is. Hurry!" + +So, since the regiment was keyed to watchfulness, it took about five +minutes more before it was known that Ranjoor Singh was not in +barracks. The servant returned to report that he had been seen +driving toward the bazaar in a _tikka-gharri_. + +Then entered Warrington, the adjutant, and the servant was dismissed +at once. + +"Bad business," said Warrington, looking thoroughly cheerful. + +"What now?" + +"One of Squadron D's men murdered in the bazaar this afternoon. +Body's in the morgue in charge of the police. 'Nother man who was +with him apparently missing. No explanation, and the p'lice say there +aren't any clues." + +He twisted at a little black mustache and began to hum. + +"Know where Ranjoor Singh is by any chance?" asked Kirby. + +"Give me three guesses--no, two. One--he's raising hell with all +the police in Delhi. Two--he's at the scene of the murder, doing +detective work on his own. I heard he'd driven away--and, anyhow, +it's his squadron. Man's probably his second cousin, twenty or thirty +times removed." + +"Send somebody to find him!" ordered Kirby. + +"Say you want to have a word with him?" + +Kirby nodded, and Warrington swaggered out, humming to himself +exactly as he hoped to be humming when his last grim call should +come, the incarnation of efficiency, awake and very glad. A certain +number of seconds after he had gone two mounted troopers clattered +out toward the bazaar. Ten minutes later Warrington returned. + +"D Squadron's squattin' on its hunkers in rings an' lookin' gloomy," +he said, as if he were announcing some good news that had a touch of +humor in it. "By the look of 'em you'd say they'd been passed over +for active service and were meditatin' matrimony." + +"By gad, Warrington! You don't know how near that guess is to the +truth!" + +Kirby's lips were smiling, but his voice was hard. Warrington +glanced quickly at him once and then looked serious. + +"You mean--" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"Has it broken yet?" + +"No." + +"Is it goin' to break?" + +"Looks like it. Looks to me as if it's all been prearranged. Our +crowd are sparring for time, and the Prussians are all in a hurry. +Looks that way to me." + +"And you mean--there's a chance--even a chance of us--of Outram's +Own bein' out of it? Beg your pardon, sir, but are you serious?" + +"Yes," said Kirby, and Warrington's jaw fell. + +"Any details that are not too confidential for me to know?" asked +Warrington. + +"Tell you all about it after I've had a word with Ranjoor Singh." + +"Hadn't I better go and help look for him?" + +"Yes, if you like." + +So, within another certain number of split seconds, Captain Charlie +Warrington rode, as the French say, belly-to-the-earth, and the fact +that the monsoon chose that instant to let pour another Noah's deluge +seemed to make no difference at all to his ardor or the pace to which +he spurred his horse. + +An angry police officer grumbled that night at the club about the +arrogance of all cavalrymen, but of one Warrington in particular. + +"Wanted to know, by the Big Blue Bull of Bashan, whether I knew when +a case was serious or not! Yes, he did! Seemed to think the murder of +one sowar was the only criminal case in all Delhi, and had the nerve +to invite me to set every constable in what he termed my parish on +the one job. What did I say? Told him to call to-morrow, of course-- +said I'd see. Gad! You should have heard him swear then--thought his +eyes 'ud burn holes in my tunic. Went careering out of the office as +if war had been declared." + +"Talking of war," said somebody, nursing a long drink under the +swinging punkah, "do you suppose--" + +So the manners of India's pet cavalry were forgotten at once in the +vortex of the only topic that had interest for any one in clubdom, +and it was not noticed whether Warrington or his colonel, or any +other officer of native cavalry looked in at the club that night. + + * * * * * + +Warrington rode into the rain at the same speed at which he had +galloped to the police station, overhauled one of the mounted +troopers whom he himself had sent in search of Ranjoor Singh, rated +him soundly in Punjabi for loafing on the way, and galloped on with +the troop-horse laboring in his wake. He reined in abreast of the +second trooper, who had halted by a cross-street and was trying to +appear to enjoy the deluge. + +"Any word?" asked Warrington. + +"I spoke with two who said he entered by that door-that small door +down the passage, sahib, where there is no light. It is a teak door, +bolted and with no keyhole on the outside." + +"Good for you," said Warrington, glancing quickly up and down the +wet street, where the lamps gleamed deceptively in pools of running +water. There seemed nobody in sight; but that is a bold guess in +Delhi, where the shadows all have eyes. + +He gave a quiet order, and trooper number one passed his reins to +number two. + +"Go and try that door. Kick it in if you can--but be quick, and try +not to be noisy!" + +The trooper swung out of the saddle and obeyed, while Warrington and +the other man faced back to back, watching each way against surprise. +In India, as in lands less "civilized," the cavalry are not allowed +to usurp the functions of police, and the officer or man who tries it +does so at his own risk. There came a sound of sudden thundering on +teak that ceased after two minutes. + +"The door is stout. There is no answer from within," said the trooper. + +"Then wait here on foot," commanded Warrington. "Get under cover and +watch. Stay here until you're relieved, unless something particularly +worth reporting happens; in that case, hurry and report. For +instance"--he hesitated, trying to imagine something out of the +unimaginable--"suppose the risaldar-major were to come out, then give +him the message and come home with him. But--oh, suppose the place +takes fire, or there's a riot, or you hear a fight going on inside-- +then hurry to barracks--understand?" + +The wet trooper nodded and saluted. + +"Get into a shadow, then, and keep as dry as you can," ordered +Warrington. "Come on!" he called to the other man. + +And a second later he was charging through the street as if he rode +with despatches through a zone of rifle fire. Behind him clattered a +rain-soaked trooper and two horses. + +Colonel Kirby stepped out of his bathroom just as Warrington +arrived, and arranged his white dress-tie before the sitting-room +mirror. + +"Looks fishy to me, sir," said Warrington, hurrying in and standing +where the rain from his wet clothes would do least harm. + +There was a space on the floor between two tiger-skins where the +matting was a little threadbare. Messengers, orderlies or servants +always stood on that spot. After a moment, however, Kirby's servant +brought Warrington a bathroom mat. + +"How d'ye mean?" + +Warrington explained. + +"What did the police say?" + +"Said they were busy." + +"Now, I could go to the club," mused Kirby, "and see Hetherington, +and have a talk with him, and get him to sign a search-warrant. Armed +with that, we could--" + +"Perhaps persuade a police officer to send two constables with it +to-morrow morning!" said Warrington, with a grin. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"And if we do much on our own account we'll fall foul of the Indian +Penal Code, which altereth every week," said Warrington. + +"If it weren't for the fact that I particularly want a word with +him," said Kirby, giving a last tweak to his tie and reaching out for +his mess-jacket that the servant had laid on a chair, "there'd not be +much ground that I can see for action of any kind. He has a right to +go where he likes." + +That point of view did not seem to have occurred to Warrington +before; nor did he quite like it, for he frowned. + +"On the other hand," said Kirby, diving into his mess-jacket and +shrugging his neat shoulders until they fitted into it as a charger +fits into his skin, "under the circumstances--and taking into +consideration certain private information that has reached me--if I +were supposed to be behind a bolted door in the bazaar, I'd rather +appreciate it if Ranjoor Singh, for instance, were to--ah--take +action of some kind." + +"Exactly, sir." + +"Hallo--what's that?" + + * * * * * + +A motor-car, driven at racing speed, thundered up the lane between +the old stacked cannon and came to a panting standstill by the +colonel's outer door. A gruff question was answered gruffly, and a +man's step sounded on the veranda. Then the servant flung the door +wide, and a British soldier stepped smartly into the room, saluted +and held out a telegram. + +Kirby tore it open. His eyes blazed, but his hands were steady. The +soldier held out a receipt book and a pencil, and Kirby took time to +scribble his initials in the proper place. Warrington, humming to +himself, began to squeeze the rain out of his tunic to hide +impatience. The soldier saluted, faced about and hurried to the +waiting car. Then Kirby read the telegram. He nodded to Warrington. +Warrington, his finger-ends pressed tight into his palms and his +forearms quivering, raised one eyebrow. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"War, sir?" + +"War." + +"We're under orders?" + +"Not yet. It says, 'War likely to be general. Be ready.' Here, read +it for yourself." + +"They wouldn't have sent us that if--" + +"Addressed to 0.C. troops. They had those ready written out and sent +one to every O.C. on the list the second they knew." + +"Well, sir?" + +"Leave the room, Lal Singh!" + +The servant, who was screwing up his courage to edge nearer, did as +he was told. + +Kirby stood still, facing the mirror, with both arms behind him. + +"They're certain to send native Indian troops to Europe," he said. + +"We're ready, sir! We're ready to a shoe-string! We'll go first!" + +"We'll be last, Warrington, supposing we go at all, unless we find +Ranjoor Singh! They'll send us to do police work in Bengal, or to +guard the Bombay docks and watch the other fellows go. I'm going to +the club. You'd better come with me. Hurry into dry clothes." He +glanced at the clock. "We'll just have time to drive past the house +where you say he's supposed to be, if you hurry." + +The last three words were lost, for Captain Warrington had turned +into a thunderbolt and disappeared; the noise of his going was as +when a sudden windstorm slams all the doors at once. A moment later +he could be heard shouting from outside his quarters to his servant +to be ready for him. + +He certainly bathed, for the noise of the tub overturning when he +was done with it was unmistakable. And eight minutes after his +departure he was back again, dressed, cloaked and ready. + +"Got your pistol, sir?" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"Thought I'd bring mine along. You never know, you know." + +Together they climbed into the colonel's dog-cart, well smothered +under waterproofs. Kirby touched up another of his road-devouring +walers, the sais grabbed at the back seat and jumped for his life, +and they shot out of the compound, down the line of useless cannon +and out into the street, taking the corner as the honor of the +regiment required. Then the two big side-lamps sent their shafts of +light straight down the metaled, muddy road, and the horse settled +down between them to do his equine "demdest"; there was a touch on +the reins he recognized. + + * * * * * + +They reached the edge of the bazaar to find the crowd stirring, +although strangely mute. + +"They'll have got the news in an hour from now," said Kirby. "They +can smell it already." + +"Wonder how much truth there is in all this talk about German +merchants and propaganda." + +"_H-rrrrr-ummm_!" said Kirby. + +"Steady, sir! Lookout!" + +The near wheel missed a native woman by a fraction of an inch, and +her shrill scream followed them. But Kirby kept his eyes ahead, and +the shadows continued to flash by them in a swift procession until +Warrington leaned forward, and then Kirby leaned back against the +reins. + +"There he is, sir!" + +They reined to a halt, and a drenched trooper jumped up behind to +kneel on the back seat and speak in whispers. + +"No sign of him at all?" asked Kirby. + +"No, sahib. But there has been a light behind a shutter above there. +It comes and goes. They light it and extinguish it." + +"Has anybody come out of that door?" + +"No, sahib." + +"None gone in?" + +"None." + +"Any other door to the place?" + +"There may be a dozen, sahib. That is an old house, and it backs up +against six others." + +"What we suffer from in this country is information," said +Warrington, beginning to hum to himself. + +But Kirby signed to the trooper, and the man began to scramble out +of the cart. + +"Between now and our return, report to the club if anything +happens," called Warrington. + +The whip swished, the horse shot forward, and they were off again as +if they would catch up with the hurrying seconds. People scattered to +the right and left in front of them; a constable at a street crossing +blew his whistle frantically; once the horse slipped in a deep +puddle, and all but came to earth; but they reached the club without +mishap and drove up the winding drive at a speed more in keeping with +convention. + +"Oh, hallo, Kirby! Glad you've come!" said a voice. + +"Evening, sir!" + +Kirby descended, almost into the arms of a general in evening dress. +They walked into the club together, leaving the adjutant wondering +what to do. He decided to follow them at a decent distance, still +humming and looking happy enough for six men. + +"You'll be among the first," said the general. "Are you ready, Kirby +--absolutely ready?" + +"Yes," + +"The wires are working to the limit. It isn't settled yet whether +troops go from here via Canada or the Red Sea--probably won't be +until the Navy's had a chance to clear the road. All that's known-- +yet--is that Belgium's invaded, and that every living man Jack who +can be hurried to the front in time to keep the Germans out of Paris +will be sent. Hold yourself ready to entrain any minute, Kirby." + +"Is martial law proclaimed yet?" asked Kirby in a voice that the +general seemed to think was strained, for he looked around sharply. + +"Not yet. Why?" + +"Information, sir. Anything else?" + +"No. Good night." + +"Good night, sir." + +Kirby nearly ran into Warrington as he hurried back toward the door. + +"Find a police officer!" he ordered. + +"They all passed you a minute ago, sir," answered Warrington. +"They're headed for police headquarters. Heard one of 'em say so." + +Kirby pulled himself together. A stranger would not have noticed +that he needed it, but Warrington at his elbow saw the effort and was +glad. + +"Go to police headquarters, then," he ordered. "Try to get them to +bring a dozen men and search, that house; but don't say that Ranjoor +Singh's in there." + +"Where'll I find you, sir?" + +"Barracks. Oh, by the way, we're a sure thing for the front." + +"I knew there was some reason why I kept feelin' cheerful!" said +Warrington. "The risaldar-major looks like gettin' left." + +"Unless," said Kirby, "you can get the police to act to-night--or +unless martial law's proclaimed at once, and I can think of an excuse +to search the house with a hundred men myself. Find somebody to give +you a lift. So long." + +Kirby swung into his dog-cart, the sais did an acrobatic turn +behind, and again the horse proceeded to lower records. Zigzag-wise, +through streets that were growing more and yet more thronged instead +of silent, they tore barrackward, missing men by a miracle every +twelve yards. Kirby's eyes were on a red blotch, now, that danced and +glowed above the bazaar a mile ahead. It reminded him of pain. + +Presently the horse sniffed smoke, and notified as much before +settling down into his stride again. The din of hoarse excitement +reached Kirby's ears, and in a moment more a khaki figure leaped out +of a shadow and a panting trooper snatched at the back seat, was +grabbed by the sais, and swung up in the rear. + +"Sahib--" + +"All right. I know," said Kirby, though he did not know how he knew. + +They raced through another dozen streets until the glare grew +blinding and the smoke nearly choked him. Then they were stopped +entirely by the crowd, and Colonel Kirby sat motionless; for he had a +nearly perfect view of a holocaust. The house in which Ranjoor Singh +was supposed to be was so far burned that little more than the walls +was standing. + + + The North Wind hails from the Northern snows, + (His voice is loud--oh, listen ye!) + He cried of death--the death he knows-- + Of the mountain death. (Oh, listen ye!) + Who looks to the North for love looks long! + Who goes to the North for gain goes wrong! + Men's hearts are hard, and the goods belong + To the strong in the North! (Oh, listen ye!) + Whose lot is fair--who loves his life-- + Walks wide, stays wide of the Northern knife! + (Ye men o' the world, oh, listen ye!) + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +There were police and to spare now, nor any doubt of it. Even the +breath of war's beginning could not keep them elsewhere when a fire +had charge in the densest quarters of the danger zone. The din of +ancient Delhi roared skyward, and the Delhi crowd surged and fought +to be nearer to the flame; but the police already had a cordon around +the building, and another detachment was forcing the swarms of men +and women into eddying movement in which something like a system +developed presently, for there began to be a clear space in which the +fire brigade could work. + +"Any bodies recovered?" asked Colonel Kirby, leaning from the seat +of his high dogcart to speak to the English fireman who stood sentry +over the water-plug. + +"No, sir. The fire had too much headway before the alarm went in. +When we got here the whole lower part was red-hot." + +"Any means of escape from the building from the rear?" + +"As many as from a rat-run, sir. That house is as old as Delhi-- +about; and there are as any galleries up above connecting with houses +at the rear as there are run-holes from cellar to cellar." + +"Any chance for anybody down in the cellar?" + +"Doubt it, sir. The fire started there; the water'll do what the +fire left undone. Pretty bad trap, sir, I should say, if you asked me." + +"No reports of escape or rescue?" + +"None that I've heard tell of." + +"And the house seems doomed, eh? Be some days before they can sort +the debris over?" + +"Lucky if we save the ten houses nearest it! Look, sir! There she +goes!" + +The roof fell in, sending five separate volumes of red sparks up +into the cloudy night as floor after floor collapsed beneath the +weight. The thunder of it was almost drowned in a roar of delight, +for the crowd, sensing the new spirit of its masters, was in a mood +for the terrible. Then silence fell, as if that had been an overture. + +Out of the silence and through the sea of hot humanity, the white of +his dress-shirt showing through the unbuttoned front of a military +cloak, Warrington rode a borrowed Arab pony, the pony's owner's sais +running beside him to help clear a passage. Warrington was still +humming to himself as he dismissed both sais and pony and climbed up +beside Kirby in the dog-cart. + +"If Ranjoor Singh's in that house, he's in a predicament," he said +cheerfully. "I went to police headquarters, and the first officer I +spoke to told me to go to hell. So I went into the next office, where +all the big panjandrums hide--and some of the little ones--and they +told me what you know, sir, that the house is in flames and every +policeman who can be spared is on the job, so I came to see. If +Ranjoor Singh's in there--but I don't believe he is!" + +"Why don't you?" + +"I don't believe the Lord 'ud send us active service--not a real red +war against a real enemy--and play a low-down trick on Ranjoor Singh. +Ranjoor Singh's a gentleman. It wouldn't be sportsmanlike to let him +die before the game begins." + +For a minute or two they watched the sparks go up and the crowd +striking at the rats that still seemed to find some place of exit. + +"There's a place below there that isn't red--hot yet," said Kirby. +"Those rats are not cooked through. Did you tell the police that you +wanted a search warrant?" + +"Yes. Might as well argue with an ant-heap. All of 'em too busy +tryin' for commissions in the Volunteers to listen. They've got it +all cut an' dried--somebody in the basement upset a lamp, according +to them--nobody up-stairs--nobody to turn in the alarm until the fire +had complete charge! They offer to prove it when the fire's out and +they can sort the ashes." + +"Um-m-m! Tell 'em a trooper of ours saw a light there?" + +"Yes." + +"What did they say?" + +"'Doubtless the lamp that was kicked over!'" + +Colonel Kirby clucked to his horse and worked a way out to the edge +of the crowd with the skill of one whose business is to handle men in +quantity. Then he shot like a dart up side streets and made for +barracks by a detour. + +"Gad!" said Warrington suddenly. + +"Who's told 'em d'you suppose?" + +"Dunno, sir. News leaks in Delhi like water from a lump of ice." + +In the darkness of the barrack wall there were more than a thousand +men, women and children, many of them Sikhs, who clamored to be told +things, and by the gate was a guard of twenty men drawn up to keep +the crowd at bay. The shrill voices of the women drowned the answers +of the native officer as well as the noise of the approaching wheels, +and the guard had to advance into the road to clear a way for its +colonel. + +The native officer saluted and grinned. + +"Is it true, sahib?" he shouted, and Kirby raised his whip in the +affirmative. From that instant the guard began to make more noise +than the crowd beyond the wall. + +Kirby whipped his horse and took the drive that led to his quarters +at a speed there was no overhauling. He wanted to be alone. But his +senior major had forestalled him and was waiting by his outer door. + +"Oh, hallo, Brammle. Yes, come in." + +"Is it peace, Jehu?" asked Brammle. + +"War. We'll be the first to go. No, no route yet--likely to get it +any minute." + +"I'll bet, then. Bet you it's Bombay--a P. and O.--Red Sea and +Marseilles! Oh, who wouldn't be light cavalry? First-class all the +way, first aboard, and first crack at 'em! Any orders, sir?" + +"Yes. Take charge. I'm going out, and Warrington's going with me. +Don't know how long we'll be gone. If anybody asks for me, tell him +I'll be back soon. Tell the men." + +"Somebody's told 'em--listen!" + +"Tell 'em that whoever misbehaves from now forward will be left +behind. Give 'em my definite promise on that point!" + +"Anything else, sir?" + +"No." + +"Then see you later." + +"See you later." + +The major went away, and Kirby turned to his adjutant. + +"Go and order the closed shay, Warrington. Pick a driver who won't +talk. Have some grub sent in here to me, and join me at it in half an +hour; say fifteen minutes later. I've some things to see to." + +Kirby wanted very much to be alone. The less actual contact a +colonel has with his men, and the more he has with his officers, the +better--as a rule; but it does not pay to think in the presence of +either. Officers and men alike should know him as a man-who-has- +thought, a man in whose voice is neither doubt nor hesitation. + +Thirty minutes later Warrington found him just emerging from a brown +study. + +"India's all roots-in-the-air an' dancin'!" he remarked cheerfully. +"There was a babu sittin' by the barrack gate who offers to eat a +German a day, as long as we'll catch 'em for him. He's the same man +that was tryin' for a job as clerk the other day." + +"Fat man?" + +"Very." + +"Uh-h-h! No credentials--bad hat! Send him packing?" + +"The guard did." + +Food was laid on a small table by a silent servant who had eyes in +the back of his head and ears that would have caught and analyzed the +lightest whisper; but the colonel and his adjutant ate hurriedly in +silence, and the only thing remarkable that the servant was able to +report to the regiment afterward was that both drank only water. +Since all Sikhs are supposed to be abstainers from strong drink, that +was accepted as a favorable omen. + +The shay arrived on time to the second. It was the only closed +carriage the regiment owned--a heavy C-springed landau thing, taken +over from the previous mess. The colonel peered through outer +darkness at the box seat, but the driver did not look toward him; all +he could see was that there was only one man on the box. + +"Where to?" asked Warrington. + +"The club." + +Warrington jumped in after him, and the driver sent his pair +straining at the traces as if they had a gun behind them. Three +hundred yards beyond the barrack wall Colonel Kirby knelt on the +front seat and poked the driver from behind. + +"Oh! You?" he remarked, as he recognized a native risaldar of D +Squadron. Until the novelty wears off it would disconcert any man to +discover suddenly that his coachman is a troop commander. + +"D'you know a person named Yasmini?" he asked. + +"Who does not, sahib?" + +"Drive us to her house--in a hurry!" + +The immediate answer was a plunge as the whip descended on both +horses and the heavy carriage began to sway like a boat in a beam-sea +swell. They tore through streets that were living streams of human +beings--streams that split apart to let them through and closed like +water again behind them. With his spurred heels on the front seat, +Warrington hummed softly to himself as ever, happy, so long as there +were only action. + +"I've heard India spoken of as dead," he remarked after a while. +"Gad! Look at that color against the darkness!" + +"If Ranjoor Singh is dead, I'm going to know it!" said Colonel +Kirby. "And if he isn't dead, I'm going to dig him out or know the +reason why. There's been foul play, Warrington. I happen to know that +Ranjoor Singh has been suspected in a certain quarter. Incidentally, +I staked my own reputation on his honesty this afternoon. And +besides, we can't afford to lose a wing commander such as he is on +the eve of the real thing. We've got to find him!" + +Once or twice as they flashed by a street-lamp they were recognized +as British officers, and then natives, who would have gone to some +trouble to seem insolent a few hours before, stopped to half-turn and +salaam to them. + +"Wonder how they'd like German rule for a change?" mused Warrington. + +"India doesn't often wear her heart on her sleeve," said Kirby. + +"It's there to-night!" said Warrington. "India's awake, if this is +Delhi and not a nightmare! India's makin' love to the British soldier- +man!" + +They tore through a city that is polychromatic in the daytime and by +night a dream of phantom silhouettes. But, that night, day and night +were blended in one uproar, and the Chandni Chowk was at floodtide, +wave on wave of excited human beings pouring into it from a hundred +bystreets and none pouring out again. + +So the risaldar drove across the Chandni Chowk, fighting his way +with the aid of whip and voice, and made a wide circuit through dark +lanes where groups of people argued at the corners, and sometimes a +would-be holy man preached that the end of the world had come. + + * * * * * + +They reached Yasmini's from the corner farthest from the Chandni +Chowk, and sprang out of the carriage the instant that the risaldar +drew rein. + +"Wait within call!" commanded Kirby, and the risaldar raised his whip. + +Then, with his adjutant at his heels, Colonel Kirby dived through +the gloomy opening in a wall that Yasmini devised to look as little +like an approach to her--or heaven--as possible. + +"Wonder if he's brought us to the right place?" he whispered, +sniffing into the moldy darkness. + +"Dunno, sir. There're stairs to your left." + +They caught the sound of faint flute music on an upper floor, and as +Kirby felt cautiously for his footing on the lower step Warrington +began to whistle softly to himself. Next to war, an adventure of this +kind was the nearest he could imagine to sheer bliss, and it was all +he could do to contrive to keep from singing. + +The heavy teak stairs creaked under their joint weight, and though +their eyes could not penetrate the upper blackness, yet they both +suspected rather than sensed some one waiting for them at the top, + +Kirby's right hand instinctively sought a pocket in his cloak. +Warrington felt for his pistol, too. + +For thirty or more seconds--say, three steps--they went up like +conspirators, trying to move silently and holding to the rail; then +the absurdity of the situation appealed to both, and without a word +said each stepped forward like a man, so that the staircase resounded. + +They stumbled on a little landing after twenty steps, and wasted +about a minute knocking on what felt like the panels of a door; but +then Warrington peered into the gloom higher up and saw dim light. + +So they essayed a second flight of stairs, in single file as before, +and presently--when they had climbed some ten steps and had turned to +negotiate ten more that ascended at an angle--a curtain moved a +little, and the dim light changed to a sudden shaft that nearly +blinded them. + +Then a heavy black curtain was drawn back on rings, and a hundred +lights, reflected in a dozen mirrors, twinkled and flashed before +them so that they could not tell which way to turn. Somewhere there +was a glassbead curtain, but there were so many mirrors that they +could not tell which was the curtain and which were its reflections. + +The curtains all parted, and from the midst of each there stepped a +little nutbrown maid, who seemed too lovely to be Indian. Even then +they could not tell which was maid and which reflections until she +spoke. + +"Will the sahibs give their names?" she asked in Hindustani; and her +voice suggested flutes. + +She smiled, and her teeth were whiter than a pipe-clayed sword-belt; +there is nothing on earth whiter than her teeth were. + +"Colonel Kirby and Captain Warrington" said Kirby. + +"Will the sahibs state their business?" + +"No!" + +"Then whom do the sahibs seek to see?" + +"Does a lady live here named Yasmini?" + +"Surely, sahib." + +"I wish to talk with her." + +A dozen little maids seemed to step back through a dozen swaying +curtains, and a second later for the life of them they could neither +of them tell through which it was that the music came and the smell +of musk and sandal-smoke. But she came back and beckoned to them, +laughing over her shoulder and holding the middle curtain apart for +them to follow. + +So, one after the other, they followed her, Kirby--as became a +seriously-minded colonel on the eve of war--feeling out of place and +foolish, but Warrington, possessed by such a feeling of curiosity as +he had never before tasted. + +The heat inside the room they entered was oppressive, in spite of a +great open window at which sat a dozen maids, and of the punkahs +swinging overhead, so Kirby undid his cloak and walked revealed, a +soldier in mess dress. + +"Look at innocence aware of itself!" whispered Warrington. + +"Shut up!" commanded Kirby, striding forward. + +A dozen--perhaps more--hillmen, of three or four different tribes, +had sat back against one wall and looked suspicious when they +entered, but at sight of Kirby's military clothes they had looked +alarmed and moved as if a whip had been cracked not far away. The +Northern adventurer does not care to be seen at his amusements, nor +does he love to be looked in on by men in uniform. + +But the little maid beckoned them on, still showing her teeth and +tripping in front of them as if a gust of wind were blowing her. Her +motion was that of a dance reduced to a walk for the sake of decorum. + +Through another glass-bead curtain at the farther end of the long +room she led them to a second room, all hung about with silks and +furnished with deep-cushioned divans. There were mirrors in this +room, too, so that Kirby laughed aloud to see how incongruous and +completely out of place he and his adjutant locked. His gruff laugh +came so suddenly that the maid nearly jumped out of her skin. + +"Will the sahibs be seated?" she asked almost in a whisper, as if +they had half-frightened the life out of her, and then she ran out of +the room so quickly that they were only aware of the jingling curtain. + +So they sat down, Kirby trying the cushions with his foot until he +found some firm enough to allow him to retain his dignity. Cavalry +dress-trousers are not built to sprawl on cushions in; a man should +sit reasonably upright or else stand. + +"I'll say this for myself," he grunted, as he settled into place, +"it's the first time in my life I was ever inside a native woman's +premises." + +Warrington did not commit himself to speech. + +They sat for five minutes looking about them, Warrington beginning +to be bored, but Kirby honestly interested by the splendor of the +hangings and the general atmosphere of Eastern luxury. It was +Warrington who grew uneasy first. + +"Feel as if any one was lookin' at you, sir?" he asked out of one +side of his mouth. And then Kirby noticed it, and felt his collar +awkwardly. + +In all the world there is nothing so well calculated to sap a man's +prepossession as the feeling that he is secretly observed. There was +no sound, no movement, no sign of any one, and Warrington looked in +the mirrors keenly while he pretended to be interested in his little +mustache. Yet the sweat began to run down Colonel Kirby's temples, +and he felt at his collar again to make sure that it stood upright. + +"Yes," he said, "I do. I'm going to get up and walk about." + +He paced the length of the long room twice, turning quickly at each +end, but detecting no movement and no eyes. Then he sat down again +beside Warrington; but the feeling still persisted. + +Suddenly a low laugh startled them, a delicious laugh, full of +camaraderie, that would have disarmed the suspicion of a wolf. Just +as unexpectedly a curtain less than a yard away from Kirby moved, and +she stood before them--Yasmini. She could only be Yasmini. Besides, +she had jasmine flowers worked into her hair. + +Like a pair of bull buffaloes startled from their sleep, the colonel +and his adjutant shot to their feet and faced her, and to their +credit let it be recorded that they dropped their eyes, both of them. +They felt like bounders. They hated themselves for breaking in on +such loveliness. + +"Will the sahibs not be seated again?" she asked them in a velvet +voice; and, sweating in the neck, they each sat down. + +Now that the first feeling of impropriety had given way to +curiosity, neither had eyes for anything but her. Neither had ever +seen anything so beautiful, so fascinating, so impudently lovely. She +was laughing at them; each knew it, yet neither felt resentful. + +"Well?" she asked in Hindustani, and arched her eyebrows questioning. + +And Colonel Kirby stammered because she had made him think of his +mother, and the tender prelude to a curtain lecture. Yet this woman +was not old enough to have been his wife! + +"I-I-I came to ask about a friend of mine--by name Risaldar--Major +Ranjoor Singh. I understand you know him?" + +She nodded, and Kirby fought with a desire to let his mind wander. +The subtle hypnotism that the East knows how to stage and use was +creeping over him. She stood so close! She seemed so like the warm +soft spirit of all womanhood that only the measured rising and +falling of her bosom, under the gauzy drapery, made her seem human +and not a spirit. Subtly, ever so cunningly, she had contrived to +touch a chord in Colonel Kirby's heart that he did not know lived any +more. Warrington was speechless; he could not have trusted himself to +speak. She had touched another chord in him. + +"He came here more than once, or so I've been given to understand," +said Kirby, and his own voice startled him, for it seemed harsh. "He +is said to have listened to a lecture here--I was told the lecture +was delivered by a German--and there was some sort of a fracas +outside in the street afterward. I'm told some of his squadron were +near, and they thrashed a man. Now, Ranjoor Singh is missing." + +"So?" said Yasmini, arching her whole lithe body into a setting for +the prettiest yawn that Kirby had ever seen. "So the Jat is missing! +Yes, he came here, sahib. He was never invited, but he came. He sat +here saying nothing until it suited him to sit where another man was; +then he struck the other man--so, with the sole of his foot--and +took the man's place, and heard what he came to hear. Later, outside +in the street, he and his men set on the Afridi whom he had struck +with his foot and beat him." + +"I have heard a variation of that," said Kirby. + +"Have you ever heard, sahib, that he who strikes the wearer of a +Northern knife is like to feel that knife? So Ranjoor Singh, the Jat, +is missing?" + +"Yes," said Kirby, frowning, for he was not pleased to hear Ranjoor +Singh spoken of slightingly. A Jat may be a good enough man, and +usually is, but a Sikh is a Jat who is better. + +"And if he is missing, what has that to do with me?" asked Yasmini. + +"I have heard--men say--" + +"Yes?" she said, laughing, for it amused her almost more than any +other thing to see dignity disarmed. + +"Men say that you know most of what goes on in Delhi--" + +"And--?" She was Impudence arrayed in gossamer. + +Colonel Kirby pulled himself together; after all, it was not for +long that anything less than an army corps could make him feel +unequal to a situation. This woman was the loveliest thing he had +ever seen, but.... + +"I've come to find out whether Ranjoor Singh's alive or dead," he +said sternly, "and, if he's alive, to take him away with me." + +She smiled as graciously as evening smiles on the seeded plains, and +sank on to a divan with the grace it needs a life of dancing to bestow. + +"Sahib," she said, with a suddenly assumed air of candidness, "they +have told the truth. There is little that goes on in Delhi--in the +world--that I can not hear of if I will. The winds of the world flow +in and out of these four walls." + +"Then where is Ranjoor Singh?" asked Colonel Kirby. + +She did not hesitate an instant. He was watching her amazing eyes +that surely would have betrayed her had she been at a moment's loss; +they did not change nor darken for a second. + +"How much, does the sahib know already?" she asked calmly, as if she +wished to spare him an unnecessary repetition of mere beginnings. + +"A trooper of D Squadron--that's Ranjoor Singh's squadron--was +murdered in the bazaar this afternoon. The risaldar-major went to the +morgue to identify the body--drove through the bazaar, and possibly +discovered some clue to the murderer. At all events, he is known to +have entered a house in the bazaar, and that house is now in flames." + +"The sahib knows that much? And am I to quell the flames?" asked +Yasmini. + +She neither sat nor lay on the divan. She was curled on it, leaning +on an elbow, like an imp from another world. + +"Who owns that house?" asked Kirby, since he could think of nothing +else to ask. + +"That is the House-of-the-Eight-Half--brothers," said Yasmini. "He +who built it had eight wives, and a son by each. That was ages ago, +and the descendants of the eight half-brothers are all at law about +the ownership. There are many stories told about that house." + +Suddenly she broke into laughter, leaning on her hand and mocking +them as Puck mocked mortals. A man could not doubt her. Colonel and +adjutant, both men who had seen grim service and both self-possessed +as a rule, knew that she could read clean through them, and that from +the bottom of her deep, wise soul she was amused. + +"I am from the North," she said, "and the North is cold; there is +little mercy in the hills, and I was weaned amid them. Yet--would the +sahib not better beg of me?" + +"How d'ye mean?" asked Kirby, surprised into speaking English. + +"_Three days_ ago there came a wind that told _me_ of war-- +of a world-war, surely not this time stillborn. Two years ago the +same wind brought me news of its conception, though the talk of the +world was then of universal peace and of horror at a war that was. +Now, to-night, this greatest war is loose, born and grown big within +three days, but conceived two years ago--Russia, Germany, Austria, +France are fighting--is it not so? Am I wrong?" + +"I came to ask about Ranjoor Singh," said Colonel Kirby, twisting at +his closely cropped mustache. + +There was a hint of iron in his voice, and he was obviously not the +man to threaten and not fulfil. But she laughed in his face. + +"All in good time!" she answered him. "You shall beg for your +Ranjoor Singh, and then perhaps he shall step forth from the burning +house! But first you shall know why you _must_ beg." + +She clapped her hands, and a maid appeared. She gave an order, and +the maid brought sherbet that Kirby sniffed suspiciously before +tasting. Again she laughed deliciously. + +"Does the sahib think that he could escape alive from this room did +I will otherwise?" she asked. "Would I need to drug--I who have so +many means?" + +Now, it is a maxim of light cavalry that the best means of defense +lies in attack; a threat of force should be met by a show of force, +and force by something quicker. Kirby's eyes and his adjutant's met. +Each felt for his hidden pistol. But she laughed at them with mirth +that was so evidently unassumed that they blushed to their ears. + +"Look!" she said; and they looked. + +Two great gray cobras, male and female, swayed behind them less than +a yard away, balanced for the strike, hoods raised. The awful, ugly +black eyes gleamed with malice. And a swaying cobra's head is not an +easy thing to hit with an automatic-pistol bullet, supposing, for +wild imagination's sake, that the hooded devil does not strike first. + +"It is not wise to move!" purred Yasmini. + +They did not see her make any sign, though she must have made one, +for their eyes were fixed on the swaying snakes, and their brains +were active with the problem of whether to try to shoot or not. It +seemed to them that the snakes reached a resolution first, and +struck. And in the same instant as each drew his pistol the hooded +messengers of death were jerked out of sight by hands that snatched +at horsehair from behind the hangings. + +"I have many such!" smiled Yasmini, and they turned to meet her eyes +again, hoping she could not read the fear in theirs. "But that is not +why the sahib shall beg of me." Kirby was not too overcome to notice +the future tense. "That is only a reason why the sahibs should forget +their Western manners. But--if the pistols please the sahibs--" + +They stowed their pistols away again and sat as if the very cushions +might be stuffed with snakes, both of them aware that she had +produced a mental effect which was more to her advantage than the +pistols would have been had they made her a present of them. She gave +a sudden shrill cry that startled them and made them look wildly for +the door; but she had done no more than command a punkah-wallah, and +the heavy-beamed punkah began to swing rhythmically overhead, adding, +if that were possible, to the mesmeric spell. + +"Now," she said, "I will tell a little of the why of things." And +Colonel Kirby hoped it was the punkah, and not funk, that made the +sweat stream down his neck until his collar was a mere uncomfortable +mess. "For more than a year there has been much talk in India. The +winds have brought it all to me. There was talk--and the government +has known it, for I am one of those who told the government--of a +ripe time for a blow for independence. + +"There have been agents of another Power, pretending to be +merchants, who have sown their seed carefully in the bazaars. And +then there went natives in the pay of the merchants who had word with +native sowars, saying that it is not well to be carried over sea to +fight another's quarrels. All this the government knew, though, of +course, thou art not the government, but only a soldier with a ready +pistol and a dull wit." + +"What bearing has this on Ranjoor Singh?" asked Kirby. It was so +long since he had been spoken to so bluntly that he could not sit +still under it. + +"I am explaining why the colonel sahib shall beg for his Ranjoor +Singh," she smiled. "Does the fire burn yet, I wonder?" + +She struck a gong, and a maid appeared in the door like an instant +echo. + +"Does the fire still burn?" she asked. + +The maid disappeared, and was gone five minutes, during which Kirby +and Warrington sat in silent wonder. They wondered chiefly what the +regiment would say if it knew--and whether the regiment would ever +know. Then the maid came back. + +"It burns," she said. "I can see flame from the roof, though not so +much flame." + +"So," said Yasmini. "Listen, sahibs." + +It is doubtful if a trumpet could have summoned them away, for she +had them bound in her spells, and each in a different spell, as her +way is. She had little need to order them to listen. + +"The talk in the bazaars did little harm, for the fat _bunnias_ +know well whose rule has given them their pickings. They talk for the +love of words, but they trade for the love of money, and the +government protects their money. Nay, it was not the _bunnias_ +who mattered. + +"But there came a day when the rings of talk had reached the hills, +and hillmen came to Delhi to hear more, as they ever have come since +India was India. And it was clear then to the government that proof +of disloyalty among the native regiments would set the hillmen +screaming for a holy war-for the hills are cold, sahibs, and the +hillmen have cold hearts and are quick to take advantage, even as I +am, of others' embarrassment. Hillmen have no mercy, Colonel sahib. I +was weaned amid the hills." + +It seemed to Kirby and Warrington both--for not all their wits were +stupefied--that she was sparring for time. And then Warrington saw a +face reflected in one of the mirrors and nudged Kirby, and Kirby saw +it too. They both saw that she was watching it. It was a fat face, +and it looked terrified, but the lips did not move and only the eyes +had expression. In a moment a curtain seemed to be drawn in front of +it, and Yasmini took up her tale. + +"And then, sahibs, as I have told already, there came a wind that +whistled about war; and it pleased the government to know which, if +any, of the native regiments had been affected by the talk. So a +closer watch was set, then a net was drawn, and Ranjoor Singh ran +into the net." + +"An antelope might blunder into a net set for a tiger," said Kirby. +"I am here to cut him out again." + +Yasmini laughed. + +"With pistols to shoot the cobras and sweat to put out flame? Nay, +what is there to cut but the dark that closes up again? Sahib, thou +shalt _beg_ for Ranjoor Singh, who struck a hillman in my house, +he was so eager to hear treason!" + +"Ranjoor Singh's honor and mine are one!" said Colonel Kirby, using +a native phrase that admits of no double meaning, and for a second +Yasmini stared at him in doubt. + +She had heard that phrase used often to express native regard for a +native, or for an Englishman, but never before by an Englishman for a +native. + +"Then beg for him!" she grinned mischievously. "Aye, I know the +tale! It is the eve of war, and he commands a squadron, and there is +need of him. Is it not so? Yet the house that he entered burns. And +the hillman's knife is long and keen, sahib! Beg for him!" + +Kirby had risen to his feet, and Warrington followed suit. Kirby's +self-possession was returning and she must have known it; perhaps she +even intended that it should. But she lay curled on the divan, +laughing up at him, and perfectly unimpressed by his recovered dignity. + +"If he's alive, and you know where he is," said Kirby, "I will pay +you your price. Name it!" + +"Beg for him! There is no other price. The House-of-the-Eight-Half- +brothers burns! Beg for him!" + +Now, the colonel of a regiment of light cavalry is so little given +to beg for things that the word beg has almost lapsed out of his +vocabulary from desuetude. + +"I beg you to tell me where he is," he said stiffly, and she clapped +her hands and laughed with such delight that he blushed to his ears +again. + +"I have had a prince on his knees to me, and many a priest," she +chuckled, "aye, and many a soldier--but never yet a British colonel +sahib. Kneel and beg!" + +"Why--what--what d'ye mean?" demanded Kirby. + +"Is his honor not your honor? I have heard it said. Then beg, +Colonel sahib, on your knees--on those stiff British knees--beg for +the honor of Ranjoor Singh!" + +"D'you mean--d'you mean--?" + +"Beg for his honor, and beg for his life, on your knees, Colonel +sahib!" + +"I could look the other way, sir," whispered Warrington, for the +regiment's need was very real. + +"Nay, both of you! Ye shall both beg!" said Yasmini, "or Ranjoor +Singh shall taste a hillman's mercy. He shall die so dishonored that +the regiment shall hang its head in shame." + +"Impossible!" said Kirby. "His honor is as good as mine!' + +"Then beg for his and thine--on your knees, Colonel sahib!" + +Then it seemed to Colonel Kirby that the room began to swim, for +what with the heat and what with an unconquerable dread of snakes, he +was not in shape to play his will against this woman's. + +"What if I kneel?" he asked. + +"I will promise you Ranjoor Singh, alive and clean!" + +"When?" + +"In time!" + +"In time for what?" + +"Against the regiment's need!" + +"No use. I want him at once!" said Colonel Kirby. + +"Then go, sahib! Put out the fire with the sweat that streams from +thee! Nay, go, both of you--ye have my leave to go! And what is a +Sikh risaldar more or less? Nay, go, and let the Jat die!" + +It is not to be written lightly that the British colonel of Outram's +Own and his adjutant both knelt to a native woman--if she is a native--in +a top back-room of a Delhi bazaar. But it has to be recorded that +for the sake of Ranjoor Singh they did. + +They knelt and placed their foreheads where she bade them, against +the divan at her feet, and she poured enough musk in their hair, for +the love of mischief, to remind them of what they had done until in +the course of slowly moving nature the smell should die away. And +then in a second the lights went out, each blown by a fan from behind +the silken hangings. + +They heard her silvery laugh, and they heard her spring to the +floor. In cold, creeping sweat they listened to footsteps, and a +little voice whispered in Hindustani: + +"This way, sahibs!" + +They followed, since there was nothing else to do and their pride +was all gone, to be pushed and pulled by unseen hands and chuckling +girls down stairs that were cut out of sheer blackness. And at the +foot of the dark a voice that Warrington recognized shed new interest +but no light on the mystery. + +"Salaam, sahibs," said a fat babu, backing through a door in front +of them and showing himself silhouetted against the lesser outer +darkness. "Seeing regimental risaldar on the box seat, I took +liberty. The risaldar-major is sending this by as yet unrewarded +messenger, and word to the effect that back way out of burning house +was easier than front way in. He sends salaam. I am unrewarded +messenger." + +He slipped something into Colonel Kirby's hands, and Kirby struck a +match to examine it. It was Ranjoor Singh's ring that had the +regimental crest engraved on it. + +"Not yet rewarded!" said the babu. + + + Let the strong take the wall of the weak, + (And there's plenty of room in the dust!) + Let the bully be brave, but the meek + No more in the way than he must. + Be crimson and ermine and gold, + Good lying and living and mirth, + (Oh, laugh and be fat!) the reward of the bold, + But--(sotto voce)--the meek shall inherit the earth! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +"That's the man whose face was in the mirror!" said Warrington +suddenly, reaching out to seize the babu's collar. "He's the man who +wanted to be regimental clerk! He's the man who was offering to eat a +German a day!... No--stand still, and I won't hurt you!" + +"Bring him out into the fresh air!" ordered Kirby. + +The illimitable sky did not seem big enough just then; four walls +could not hold him. Kirby, colonel of light cavalry, and considered +by many the soundest man in his profession, was in revolt against +himself; and his collar was a beastly mess. + +"Hurry out of this hole, for heaven's sake!" he exclaimed. + +So Warrington applied a little science to the babu, and that +gentleman went out through a narrow door backward at a speed and at +an angle that were new to him--so new that he could not express his +sensations in the form of speech. The door shut behind them with a +slam, and when they looked for it they could see no more than a mark +in the wall about fifty yards from the bigger door by which they had +originally entered. + +"There's the carriage waiting, sir!" said Warrington, and with a +glance toward it to reassure himself, Kirby opened his mouth wide and +filled his lungs three times with the fresh, rain-sweetened air. + +There were splashes of rain falling, and he stood with bared head, +face upward, as if the rain would wash Yasmini's musk from him. It +was nearly pitch-dark, but Warrington could just see that the +risaldar on the box seat raised his whip to them in token of +recognition. + +"Now then! Speak, my friend! What were you doing in there?" demanded +Warrington. + +"No, not here!" said Kirby. "We might be recognized. Bring him into +the shay." + +The babu uttered no complaint, but allowed himself to be pushed +along at a trot ahead of the adjutant, and bundled head-foremost +through the carriage door. + +"Drive slowly!" ordered Kirby, clambering in last; and the risaldar +sent the horses forward at a steady trot. + +"Now!" said Warrington. + +"H-r-r-ump!" said Kirby. + +"My God, gentlemen!" said the babu. "Sahibs, I am innocent of all +complicitee in this or any other eventualitee. I am married man, +having family responsibilitee and other handicaps. Therefore--" + +"Where did you get this ring?" demanded Kirby. + +"That? Oh, that!" said the babu. "That is veree simplee told. That +is simple little matter. There is nothing untoward in that +connection. Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh, who is legal owner of ring, +same being his property, gave it into my hand." + +"When?" + +Both men demanded to know that in one voice. + +"Sahibs, having no means of telling time, how can I guess?" + +"How long ago? About how long ago?" + +"Being elderly person of advancing years and much, adipose tissue, I +am not able to observe more than one thing at a time. And yet many +things have been forced on my attention. I do not know how long ago." + +"Since I saw you outside the barrack gate?" demanded Warrington. + +"Oh, yes. Oh, certainly. By all means!" + +"Less than two hours ago, then, sir!" said Warrington, looking at +his watch. + +"Then he isn't burned to death!" said Kirby, with more satisfaction +than he had expressed all the evening. + +"Oh, no, sir! Positivelee not, sahib! The risaldar-major is all +vitalitee!" + +"Where did he give you the ring?" + +"Into the palm of my hand, sahib." + +"Where--in what place--in what street--at whose house?" + +"At nobody's house, sahib. It was in the dark, and the dark is very +big." + +"Did he give it you at Yasmini's?" + +"Oh, no, sahib! Positivelee not!" + +"Where is he now?" + +"Sahib, how should I know, who am but elderly person of no +metaphysical attainments, only failed B.A.?" + +"What did he say when he gave it to you?" + +"Sahib, he threatened me!" + +"Confound you, what did he say?" + +"He said, '_Babuji_, present this ring to Colonel Kirby sahib. +You will find him, _babuji_, where you will find him, but in any +case you will lose no time at all in finding him. When you have given +the ring to him he will ask you questions, and you will say Ranjoor +Singh said, "All will presently be made clear"; and should you forget +the message, _babuji_, or should you fail to find him soon, +there are those who will make it their urgent business, +_babuji_, to open that belly of thine and see what is in it!' +So, my God, gentlemen! I am veree timid man! I have given the ring +and the message, but how will they know that I have given it? I did +not think of that! Moreover, I am unrewarded--I have no emolument--as +yet!" + +"How will _who_ know?" demanded Warrington. + +"They, sahib." + +"Who are they?" asked Kirby. + +"The men who will investigate the inside of my belly, sahib. Oh, a +belly is so sensitive! I am afraid!" + +"Did he tell you who 'they' were?" + +"No, sahib. Had he done so, I would at once have sought police +protection. Not knowing names of individuals, what was use of going +to police, who would laugh at me? I went to Yasmini, who understands +all things. She laughed, too; but she told me where is Colonel Kirby +sahib." + +Colonel Kirby became possessed of a bright idea, his first since +Yasmini had thrown her spell over him. + +"Could you find the way," he asked, "from here to wherever it was +that Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh gave you that ring?" + +The babu thrust his head out of the carriage window and gazed into +the dark for several minutes. + +"Conceivablee yes, sahib." + +"Then tell the driver where to turn!" + +"I could direct with more discernment from box-seat," said the babu, +with a hand on the door. + +"No, you don't!" commanded Warrington. + +"Let go that handle! What I want to know is why were you so afraid +at Yasmini's?" + +"I, sahib?" + +"Yes, you! I saw your face in a mirror, and you were scared nearly +to death. Of what?" + +"Who is not afraid of Yasmini? Were the sahibs not also afraid?" + +"Of what besides Yasmini were you afraid? Of what in particular?" + +"Of her cobras, sahib!" + +"What of them?" demanded Warrington, with a reminiscent shudder. + +"Certain of her women showed them to me." + +"Why?" + +"To further convince me, sahib, had that been necessary. Oh, but I +was already quite convinced. Bravery is not my _vade mecum!_" + +"Confound the man! To convince you of what?" + +"That if I tell too much one of those snakes will shortlee be my +bedmate. Ah! To think of it causes me to perspirate with sweat. +Sahibs, that is a--" + +"You shall go to jail if you don't tell me what I want to know!" +said Kirby. + +"Ah, sahib, I was jail clerk once--dismissed for minor offenses but +cumulative in effect. Being familiar with inside of jail, am able to +make choice." + +"Get on the box-seat with him!" commanded Kirby. "Let him show the +driver where to turn. But watch him! Keep hold of him!" + +So again the babu was propelled on an involuntary course, and +Warrington proceeded to pinch certain of his fat parts to encourage +him to mount the box with greater speed; but his helplessness became +so obvious that Warrington turned friend and shoved him up at last, +keeping hold of his loin-cloth when he wedged his own muscular +anatomy into the small space left. + +"To the right," said the babu, pointing. And the risaldar drove to +the right. + +"To the left," said the babu, and Warrington made note of the fact +that they were not so very far away from the House-of-the-Eight-Half- +brothers. + +Soon the babu began to scratch his stomach. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Warrington. + +"They said they would cut my belly open, sahib! A belly is so +sensitive!" + +Warrington laughed sympathetically; for the fear was genuine and +candidly expressed. The babu continued scratching. + +"To the right," he said after a while, and the risaldar drove to the +right, toward where a Hindu temple cast deep shadows, and a row of +trees stood sentry in spasmodic moonlight. In front of the temple, +seated on a mat, was a wandering fakir of the none-too-holy type. By +his side was a flat covered basket. + +"Look, sahib!" said the babu; and Warrington looked. + +"My belly crawls!" + +"What's the matter, man?" + +"He is a fakir. There are snakes in that basket--cobras, sahib! Ow- +ow-ow!" + +Warrington, swaying precariously over the edge, held tight by the +loin-cloth, depending on it as a yacht in a tideway would to three +hundred pounds of iron. + +"Oh, cobras are so veree dreadful creatures!" wailed the babu, +caressing his waist again. "Look, sahib! Look! Oh, look! Between +devil and over-sea what should a man do? Ow!" + +The carriage lurched at a mud-puddle. The babu's weight lurched with +it, and Warrington's center of gravity shifted. The babu seemed to +shrug himself away from the snakes, but the effect was to shove +Warrington the odd half-inch it needed to put him overside. He clung +to the loin-cloth and pulled hard to haul himself back again, and the +loin-cloth came away. + +"Halt!" yelled Warrington; and the risaldar reined in. + +But the horses took fright and plunged forward, though the risaldar +swore afterward that the babu did nothing to them; he supposed it +must have been the fakir squatting in the shadows that scared them. + +And whatever it may have been--snakes or not--that had scared the +babu, it had scared all his helplessness away. Naked from shirt to +socks, he rolled like a big ball backward over the carriage top, fell +to earth behind the carriage, bumped into Warrington, who was +struggling to his feet, knocking him down again, and departed for the +temple shadows, screaming. The temple door slammed just as Warrington +started after him. + +By that time the risaldar had got the horses stopped, and Colonel +Kirby realized what had happened. + +"Come back, Warrington!" he ordered peremptorily. + +Warrington obeyed, but without enthusiasm. + +"I can run faster than that fat brute, sir!" he said. "And I saw him +go into the temple. We won't find Ranjoor Singh now in a month of +Sundays!" + +He was trying to wipe the mud from himself with the aid of the loin-cloth. + +"Anyhow, I've got the most important part of his costume," he said +vindictively. "Gad, I'd like to get him on the run now through the +public street!" + +"Come along in!" commanded Kirby, opening the door. "There has been +trouble enough already without a charge of temple breaking. Tell the +risaldar to drive back to quarters. I'm going to get this musk out of +my hair before dawn!" + +Warrington sniffed as he climbed in. The outer night had given him +at least a standard by which to judge things. + +"I'd give something to listen to the first man who smells the inside +of this shay!" he said cheerily. "D 'you suppose we can blame it on +the babu, sir?" + +"We can try!" said Kirby. "Is that his loin-cloth you've got still?" + +"Didn't propose to leave it in the road for him to come and find, +sir! His present shame is about the only consolation prize we get out +of the evening's sport. I wish it smelt of musk--but it doesn't; it +smells of babu--straight babu, undiluted. Hallo--what's this?" + +He began to untwist a corner of the cloth, holding it up to get a +better view of it in the dim light that entered through the window. +He produced a piece of paper that had to be untwisted, too. + +"Got a match, sir?" + +Kirby struck one. + +"It's addressed to 'Colonel Kirby sahib!' Bet you it's from Ranjoor +Singh! Now--d'you suppose that heathen meant to hold on to that until +he could get his price for it?" + +"Dunno," said Kirby with indifference, opening the note as fast as +trembling fingers could unfold it. He would not have admitted to +himself what his fingers told so plainly--the extent of his regard +for Ranjoor Singh. + +The note was short, and Kirby read it aloud, since it was not marked +private, and there was nothing in it that even the babu might not +have read: + +"To Colonel Kirby sahib, from his obedient servant, Risaldar-Major +Ranjoor Singh--Leave of absence being out of question after +declaration of war, will Colonel Kirby sahib please put in Order of +the Day that Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh is assigned to special +duty, or words to same effect?" + +"Is that all?" asked Warrington. + +"That's all," said Kirby. + +"Suppose it's a forgery?" + +"The ring rather proves it isn't, and I've another way of knowing." + +"Oh!" + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +They sat in silence in the swaying shay until the smell of musk and +the sense of being mystified became too much for Warrington, and he +began to hum to himself. Humming brought about a return to his usual +wide-awakefulness, and he began to notice things. + +"Shay rides like a gun," he said suddenly. + +Kirby grunted. + +"All the weight's behind and--" He put his head out of the window to +investigate, but Kirby ordered him to sit still. + +"Want to be recognized?" he demanded. "Keep your head inside, you +young ass!" + +So Warrington sat back against the cushions until the guard at the +barrack gate turned out to present arms to the risaldar's raised +whip. As if he understood the requirements of the occasion without +being told, the risaldar sent the horses up the drive at a hard +gallop. It was rather more than half-way up the drive that Warrington +spoke again. + +"Feel that, sir?" he asked. + +"I ordered that place to be seen to yesterday!" growled Kirby. "Why +wasn't it done?" + +"It was, sir." + +"Why did we bump there, then?" + +"Why aren't we running like a gun any longer?" wondered Warrington. +"Felt to me as if we'd dropped a load." + +"Well, here we are, thank God! What do you mean to do?" + +"Rounds," said Warrington. + +"Very well." + +Kirby dived through his door, while Warrington went behind the shay +to have a good look for causes. He could find none, although a black +leather apron, usually rolled up behind in order to be strapped over +baggage when required, was missing. + +"Didn't see who took that apron, did you?" he asked the risaldar; +but the risaldar had not known that it was gone. + +"All right, then, and thank you!" said Warrington, walking off into +the darkness bareheaded, to help the smell evaporate from his hair; +and the shay rumbled away to its appointed place, with the babu's +loin-cloth inside it on the front seat. + +It need surprise nobody that Colonel Kirby found time first to go to +his bathroom. His regiment was as ready for active service at any +minute as a fire-engine should be--in that particular, India's speed +is as three to Prussia's one. The moment orders to march should come, +he would parade it in full marching order and lead it away. But there +were no orders yet; he had merely had warning. + +So he sent for dog-soap and a brush, and proceeded to scour his +head. After twenty minutes of it, and ten changes of water, when he +felt that he dared face his own servant without blushing, he made +that wondering Sikh take turns at shampooing him until he could +endure the friction no longer. + +"What does my head smell of now?" he demanded. + +"Musk, sahib!" + +"Not of dog-soap?" + +"No, sahib!" + +"Bring that carbolic disinfectant here!" + +The servant obeyed, and Kirby mixed a lotion that would outsmell +most things. He laved his head in it generously, and washed it off +sparingly. + +"Bring me brown paper?" he ordered then; and again the wide-eyed +Sikh obeyed. + +Kirby rolled the paper into torches, and giving the servant one, +proceeded to fumigate the room and his own person until not even a +bloodhound could have tracked him back to Yasmini's, and the reek of +musk had been temporarily, at least, subdued into quiescence. + +"Go and ask Major Brammle to come and see me," said Kirby then. + + * * * * * + +Brammle came in sniffing, and Kirby cursed him through tight lips +with words that were no less fervent for lack of being heard. + +"Hallo! Burning love-letters? The whole mess is doin' the same +thing. Haven't had time to burn mine yet--was busy sorting things +over when you called. Look here!" + +He opened the front of his mess-jacket and produced a little lace +handkerchief, a glove and a powder-puff. + +"Smell 'em!" he said. "Patchouli! Shame to burn 'em, what? S'pose I +must, though." + +"Any thing happen while I was gone?" asked Kirby. + +"Yes. Most extraordinary thing. You know that a few hours ago D +Squadron were all sitting about in groups looking miserable? We set +it down to their trooper being murdered and another man being +missing. Well, just about the time you and Warrington drove off in +the mess shay, they all bucked up and began grinning! Wouldn't say a +word. Just grinned, and became the perkiest squadron of the lot! + +"Now they're all sleeping like two-year-olds. Reason? Not a word of +reason! I saw young Warrington just now on his way to their quarters +with a lantern, and if he can find any of 'em awake perhaps he can +get the truth out of 'em, for they'll talk to him when they won't to +anybody else. By the way, Warrington can't have come in with you, did +he?" + +Kirby ignored the question. + +"Did you tell Warrington to go and ask them?" he demanded. + +"Yes. Passed him in the dark, but did not recognize him by the +smell. No--no! Got as near him as I could, and then leaned up against +the scent to have a word with him! Musk! Never smelt anything like it +in my life! Talk about girls! He must be in love with half India, and +native at that! Brazen-faced young monkey! I asked him where he got +the disinfectant, and he told me he fell into a mud-puddle!" + +"Perhaps he did," said Kirby. "Was there mud on him?" + +"Couldn't see. Didn't dare get so near him! Don't you think he ought +to be spoken to? I mean, the eve of war's the eve of war and all that +kind of thing, but--" + +"I wish you'd let me see the Orders of the Day," Kirby interrupted. +"I want to make an addition to them." + +"I'll send an orderly." + +"Wish you would." + +Five minutes later Kirby sat at his private desk, while Brammle +puffed at a cigar by the window. Kirby, after a lot of thinking, wrote: + +"Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh (D Squadron) assigned to special duty." + +He handed the orders back to Brammle, and the major eyed the +addition with subdued amazement. + +"What'll D Squadron say?" he asked. + +"Remains to be seen" said Kirby. + +Outside in the muggy blackness that shuts down on India in the +rains, Warrington walked alone, swinging a lantern and chuckling to +himself as he reflected what D Squadron would be likely to invent as +a reason for the smell that walked with him. For he meant to wake D +Squadron and learn things. + +But all at once it occurred to him that he had left the babu's loin-cloth +on the inside front seat of the shay; and, because if that were seen +it would have given excuse for a thousand tales too many and too +imaginative, he hurried in search of it, taking a short cut to where +by that time the shay should be. On his way, close to his destination, +he stumbled over something soft that tripped him. He stooped, swung +the lantern forward, and picked up--the missing leather apron from +behind the shay. + +The footpath on which he stood was about a yard wide; the shay could +not possibly have come along it. And it certainly had been behind the +shay when they left barracks. Moreover, close examination proved it +to be the identical apron beyond a shadow of a doubt. + +Warrington began to hum to himself. And then he ceased from humming. +Then he set the lantern down and stepped away from it sidewise until +its light no longer shone on him. He listened, as a dog does, with +intelligence and skill. Then, suddenly, he sprang and lit on a bulky +mass that yielded--gasped--spluttered--did anything but yell. + +"So you rode on the luggage-rack behind the carriage, did you, +_babuji?_" he smiled. "And curled under the apron to look like +luggage when we passed the guard, eh?" + +"But, my God, sahib!" said a plaintive voice. "Should I walk through +Delhi naked? You, who wear pants, you laugh at me, but I assure you, +sahib--" + +"Hush!" ordered Warrington; and the babu seemed very glad to hush. + +"There was a note in a corner of that cloth of yours!" + +"And the sahib found it? Oh, then I am relieved. I am preserved from +pangs of mutual regret!" + +"Why didn't you give that note to Colonel Kirby sahib when you had +the chance? Eh?" asked Warrington, keeping firm hold of him. + +"Sahib! Your honor! Not being yet remunerated on account of ring and +verbal message duly delivered, commercial precedent was all on my +side that I should retain further article of value pending +settlement. Now, I ask you--" + +"Where was Ranjoor Singh when he gave you that ring and message?" +demanded Warrington sternly, increasing his grip on the babu's fat arm. + +"Sahib, when I have received payment for first service rendered, my +disposition may be changed. I am as yet in condition of _forma +pauperis._" + +Still holding him tight, Warrington produced twenty rupees in paper +money. + +"Can you see those, _babuji_? See them? Then earn them!" + +"Oh, my God, sahib, I have positivelee earned a lakh of rupees this +night already!" + +"Where was Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh when he--" + +Footsteps were approaching--undoubtedly a guard on his way to +investigate. The babu seemed to sense Warrington's impatience. + + +"Sahib" he said, "I am very meek person, having family of wife and +children all dependent. Is that rupees twenty? I would graciously +accept same, and positivelee hold my tongue!" + +The steps came nearer. + +"I was on my way to D Squadron quarters, sahib, to narrate story and +pass begging bowl. Total price of story rupees twenty. Or else the +sahib may deliver me to guard, and guard shall be regaled free gratis +with full account of evening's amusement? Yes?" + +The steps came nearer yet. Recognizing an officer, the men halted a +few paces away. + +"Sahib, for sum of rupees twenty I could hold tongue for twenty +years, unless in meantime deceased, in which case--" + +"Take 'em!" ordered Warrington; and the babu's fingers shut tight on +the money. + +"Guard!" ordered Warrington. "Put this babu out into the street!" + +"Good night, sahib!" said the babu. "Kindlee present my serious +respects to the colonel sahib. Salaam, sahib!" + +But Warrington had gone into the darkness. + + + The Four Winds come, the Four Winds go, + (Ye wise o' the world, oh, listen ye!), + Whispering, whistling what they know, + Wise, since wandering made them so + (Ye stay-at-homes, oh, listen ye!). + Ever they seek and sift and pry-- + Listening here, and hurrying by-- + Restless, ceaseless--know ye why? + (Then, wise o' the world, oh, listen ye!) + The goal of the search of the hurrying wind + Is the key to the maze of a woman's mind, + (And there is no key! Oh, listen ye!) + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +So in a darkness that grew blacker every minute, Warrington swung +his lantern and found his way toward D Squadron's quarters. He felt +rather pleased with himself. From his own point of view he would have +rather enjoyed to have a story anent himself and Yasmini go the round +of barracks--with modifications, of course, and the kneeling part +left out--but he realized that it would not do at all to have Colonel +Kirby's name involved in anything of the sort, and he rather +flattered himself on his tact in bribing the babu or being +blackmailed by him. + +"Got to admit that babu's quite a huntsman!" he told himself, +beginning to hum. "One day, if the war doesn't account for me, I'll +come back and take a fall out of that babu. Hallo--what's that? Who +in thunder--who's waking up the horses at this unearthly hour? Sick +horse, I suppose. Why don't they get him out and let the others sleep?" + +He began to hurry. A light in stables close to midnight was not to +be accounted for on any other supposition than an accident or serious +emergency, and if there were either it was his affair as adjutant to +know all the facts at once. + +"What's going on in there?" he shouted in a voice of authority while +he was yet twenty yards away. + +But there was no answer. He could hear a horse plunge, but nothing +more. + +"Um-m-m! Horse cast himself!" he straightway decided. + +But there was no cast horse, as he was aware the moment he had +looked down both long lines of sleepy brutes that whickered their +protest against interrupted sleep. At the far end he could see that +two men labored, and a big horse fiercely resented their unseasonable +attentions to himself. He walked down the length of the stable, and +presently recognized Bagh, Ranjoor Singh's charger. + +"What are you grooming him for at this hour?" he demanded. + +"It is an order, sahib." + +"Whose order?" + +"Ranjoor Singh sahib's order." + +"The deuce it is! When did the order come?" + +"But now." + +"Who brought it?" + +"A babu, with a leather apron." + +Warrington walked away ten paces in order to get command of himself, +and pinch himself, and make quite sure he was awake. + +"A fat babu?" he asked, walking back again. + +"Very fat," said one of the troopers, continuing to brush the +resentful charger. + +"So he delivered his message first, and then went to hunt for his +loin-cloth!" mused Warrington. "And he had enough intuition, and guts +enough, to look for it first in the shay! I'm beginning to admire +that man!" Aloud he asked the trooper: "What was the wording of the +risaldar-major sahib's message?" + +"'Let Bagh be well groomed and held ready against all +contingencies!'" said the trooper. + +"Then take him outside!" ordered Warrington. "Groom him where you +won't disturb the other horses! How often have you got to be told +that a horse needs sleep as much as a man? The squadron won't be fit +to march a mile if you keep 'em awake all night! Lead him out +quietly, now! Whoa, you brute! Now--take him out and keep him out-- +put him in the end stall in my stable when you've finished him--d'you +hear?" + +He flattered himself again. With all these mysterious messages and +orders coming in from nowhere, he told himself it would be good to +know at all times where Ranjoor Singh's charger was, as well as a +service to Ranjoor Singh to stable the brute comfortably. He told +himself that was a very smart move, and one for which Ranjoor Singh +would some day thank him, provided, of course, that-- + +"Provided what?" he wondered half aloud. "Seems to me as if Ranjoor +Singh has got himself into some kind of a scrape, and hopes to get +out of it by the back-door route and no questions asked! Well, let's +hope he gets out! Let's hope there'll be no court-martial nastiness! +Let's hope--oh, damn just hoping! Ranjoor Singh's a better man than I +am. Here's believing in him! Here's to him, thick and thin! Forward-- +walk--march!" + +He turned out the guard, and the particular troop sergeant with whom +he wished to speak not being on duty, he ordered him sent for. Ten +minutes later the sergeant came, still yawning, from his cot. + +"Come over here, Arjan Singh," he called, thinking fast and +furiously as he led the way. + +If he made one false move or aroused one suspicion in the man's +mind, he was likely to learn less than nothing; but if he did not +appear to know at least something, he would probably learn nothing +either. + +As he turned, at a distance from the guard-room light, to face the +sergeant, though not to meet his eyes too keenly, the fact that would +not keep out of his brain was that the fat babu had been out in the +road, offering to eat Germans, a little while before he and the +colonel had started out that evening. And, according to what Brammle +had told him when they met near the colonel's quarters, it was very +shortly after that that the squadron came out of its gloom. + +"What was the first message that the babu brought this evening?" he +asked, still being very careful not to look into the sergeant's eyes. +He spoke as comrade to comrade--servant of the "Salt" to servant of +the "Salt." + +"Which babu, sahib?" asked Arjan Singh, unblinking. + +Now, in all probability, this man--since he had been asleep--knew +nothing about the message to groom Bagh. To have answered, "The babu +who spoke about the charger," might have been a serious mistake. + +"Arjan Singh, look me in the eyes!" he ordered, and the Sikh obeyed. +He was taller than Warrington, and looked down on him. + +"Are you a true friend of the risaldar-major?" + +"May I die, sahib, if I am not!" + +"And I? What of me? Am I his friend or his enemy?" + +The sergeant hesitated. + +"Can I read men's hearts?" he asked. + +"Yes!" said Warrington. "And so can I. That is why I had you called +from your sleep. I sent for you to learn the truth. What was the +message given by the fat babu to one of the guard by the outer gate +this evening, and delivered by him or by some other man to D Squadron?" + +"Sahib, it was not a written message." + +"Repeat it to me." + +"Sahib, it was verbal. I can not remember it." + +"Arjan Singh, you lie! Did I ever lie to you? Did I ever threaten +you and not carry out my threats--promise you and not keep my +promise? I am a soldier! Are you a cur?" + +"God forbid, sahib! I--" + +"Arjan Singh! Repeat that message to me word for word, please, not +as a favor, nor as obeying an order, but as a friend of Ranjoor Singh +to a friend of Ranjoor Singh!" + +"The message was to the squadron, not to me, sahib." + +"Are you not of the squadron?" + +"Make it an order, sahib!" + +"Certainly not--nor a favor either!" + +"Sahib, I--" + +"Nor will I threaten you! I guarantee you absolute immunity if you +refuse to repeat it. My word on it! I am Ranjoor Singh's friend, and +I ask of his friend!" + +"The babu said: 'Says Ranjoor Singh, "Let the squadron be on its +best behavior! Let the squadron know that surely before the blood +runs he will be there to lead it, wherever it is! Meanwhile, let the +squadron be worthy of its salt and of its officers!"'" + +"Was that all?" asked Warrington. + +"All, sahib. May my tongue rot if I lie!" + +"Thank you, Arjan Singh. That's all. You needn't mention our +conversation. Good night." + +"Fooled," chuckled Warrington. "She's fooled us to the limit of our +special bent, and I take it that's stiff-neckedness!" + +He hurried away toward Colonel Kirby's quarters, swinging his +lantern and humming to himself. + +"And this isn't the Arabian Nights!" he told himself. "It's Delhi-- +Twentieth Century A.D.! Gad! Wouldn't the whole confounded army rock +with laughter!" + +Then he stopped chuckling, to hurry faster, for a giant horn had +rooted chunks out of the blackness by the barrack gate, and now what +sounded like a racing car was tearing up the drive. The head-lights +dazzled him, but he ran and reached the colonel's porch breathless. +He was admitted at once, and found the colonel and Brammle together, +facing an aide-de-camp. In the colonel's hand was a medium-sized, +sealed envelope. + +"Shall I repeat it, sir?" asked the aide-de-camp. + +"Yes, if you think it necessary" answered Kirby. + +"The sealed orders are not to be opened until out at sea. You are +expected to parade at dawn the day after to-morrow, and there will be +somebody from headquarters to act as guide for the occasion. In fact, +you will be guided at each point until it is time to open your +orders. No explanations will be given about anything until later on. +That's all. Good night, sir--and good luck!" + +The aide-de-camp held out his hand, and Colonel Kirby shook it a +trifle perfunctorily; he was not much given to display of sentiment. +The aide-de-camp saluted, and a minute later the giant car spurned +the gravel out from under its rear wheels as it started off to warn +another regiment. + +"So we've got our route!" said Kirby. + +"And, thank God, we take our own horses!" said Brammle fervently. + +"Bet you a thousand the other end's Marseilles!" said Warrington. +"We're in luck. They'd have mounted us on bus-horses if we hadn't +brought our own; we'd have had to ring a bell to start and stop a +squadron. Who wouldn't be light cavalry?" + +Kirby put the sealed letter in an inside pocket. + +"I'm going to sleep," said Brammle, yawning. "Night, sir!" + +"Night!" said Kirby; but Warrington stayed on. He went and stood +near the window, and when Kirby had seen Brammle to the door, he +joined him there. + +"What now, Warrington?" + +"Caught 'em grooming Ranjoor Singh's charger in the dark!" + +"Why?" + +"Said it was an order from Ranjoor Singh!" + +"I'm getting tired of this. I don't know what to make of it." + +"That isn't nearly the worst, sir. Listen to this! Long before +Yasmini promised us--before we knelt to save his life and honor-- +Ranjoor Singh had sent a message to his squadron guaranteein' to be +with 'em before the blood runs! Specific guarantee, and no conditions!" + +"Then--" + +"Exactly, sir!" + +"She fooled us, eh?" + +"D'you suppose she's for or against the government, sir?" + +"I don't know. Thank God we've got our marching orders! Go and wash +your head! And, Warrington--hold your tongue!" + +Warrington held up his right hand. + +"So help me, sir!" he grinned, "But will she hold hers?" + + + Westward, into the hungry West, + (Oh, listen, wise men, listen ye!) + Whirls the East Wind on his quest, + Whimpering, worrying, hurrying, lest + The light o'ertake him. Listen ye! + Mark ye the burden of his sigh: + "Westward sinks the sun to die! + Westward wing the vultures!"--Aye, + (Listen, wise men, listen ye!) + The East must lose--the West must gain, + For none come back to the East again, + Though widows call them! Listen ye! + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +Now, India is unlike every other country in the world in all +particulars, and Delhi is in some respects the very heart through +which India's unusualness flows. Delhi has five railway stations with +which to cope with latter-day floods of paradoxical necessity; and +nobody knew from which railway station troops might be expected to +entrain or whither, although Delhi knew that there was war. + +There did not seem to be anything very much out of the ordinary at +any of the stations. In India one or two sidings are nearly always +full of empty trains; there did not seem to be more of them than usual. + +At the British barracks there was more or less commotion, because +Thomas Atkins likes to voice his joy when the long peace breaks at +last and he may justify himself; but in the native lines, where +dignity is differently understood, the only men who really seemed +unusually busy were the farriers, and the armourers who sharpened +swords. + +The government offices appeared to be undisturbed, and certainly no +more messengers ran about than usual, the only difference was that +one or two of them were open at a very early hour. But even in them-- +and Englishmen were busy in them--there seemed no excitement. Delhi +had found time in a night to catch her breath and continue listening; +for, unlike most big cities that brag with or without good reason, +Delhi is listening nearly all the time. + +A man was listening in the dingiest of all the offices on the ground +floor of a big building on the side away from the street--a man in a +drab silk suit, who twisted a leather watch-guard around his thumb +and untwisted it incessantly. There was a telephone beside him, and a +fair-sized pile of telegraph forms, but beyond that not much to show +what his particular business might be. He did not look aggressive, +but he seemed nervous, for he jumped perceptibly when the telephone-bell +rang; and being a government telephone, with no commercial aims, it +did not ring loud. + +"Yes," he said, with the receiver at his ear. "Yes, yes. Who else? +Oh, I forgot for the moment. Four, three, two, nine, two. Give yours! +Very well, I'm listening." + +Whoever was speaking at the other end had a lot to say, and none of +it can have been expected, for the man in the drab silk suit twisted +his wrinkled face and worked his eyes in a hundred expressions that +began with displeasure and passed through different stages of +surprise to acquiescence. + +"I want you to know," he said, "that I got my information at first +hand. I got it from Yasmini herself, from three of the hill-men who +were present, and from the Afridi who was kicked and beaten. All +except the Afridi, who wasn't there by that time, agreed that Ranjoor +Singh had words with the German afterward. Eh? What's that?" + +He listened again for about five minutes, and then hung up the +receiver with an expression of mixed irritation and amusement. + +"Caught me hopping on the wrong leg this time!" he muttered, +beginning to twist at his watch-guard again. + +Presently he sat up and looked bored, for he heard the fast trot of +a big, long-striding horse. A minute later a high dogcart drew up in +the street, and he heard a man's long--striding footsteps coming +round the corner. + +"Like horse, like man, like regiment!" he muttered. "Pick his stride +or his horse's out of a hundred, and"--he pulled out his nickel watch +--"he's ten minutes earlier than I expected him! Morning, Colonel +Kirby!" he said pleasantly, as Kirby strode in, helmet in hand. "Take +a seat." + +He noticed Kirby's scalp was red and that he smelt more than faintly +of carbolic. + +"Morning!" said Kirby. + +"I'm wondering what's brought you," said the man in drab. + +"I've come about Ranjoor Singh," said Kirby; and the man in drab +tried to look surprised. + +"What about him? Reconsidered yesterday's decision?" + +"No," said Kirby. "I've come to ask what news you have of him." And +Kirby's eye, that some men seemed to think so like a bird's, +transfixed the man in drab, so that he squirmed as if he had been +impaled. + +"You must understand, Colonel Kirby--in fact, I'm sure you do +understand--that my business doesn't admit of confidences. Even if I +wanted to divulge information, I'm not allowed to. I stretched a +point yesterday when I confided in you my suspicions regarding +Ranjoor Singh, but that doesn't imply that I'm going to tell you all +I know. I asked you what _you_ knew, you may remember." + +"I told you!" snapped Kirby. "Is Ranjoor Singh still under suspicion?" + +That was a straight question of the true Kirby type that admitted of +no evasion, and the man in drab pulled his watch out, knocking it on +the desk absent-mindedly, as if it were an egg that he wished to +crack. He must either answer or not, it seemed, so he did neither. + +"Why do you ask?" he parried. + +"I've a right to know! Ranjoor Singh's my wing commander, and a +better officer or a more loyal gentleman doesn't exist. I want him! I +want to know where he is! And if he's under a cloud, I want to know +why! Where is he?" + +"I don't know where he is," said the man in drab. "Is he--ah--absent +without leave?" + +"Certainly not!" said Kirby. "I've seen to that!" + +"Then you've communicated with him?" + +"No." + +"Then if his regiment were to march without him--" + +"It won't if I can help it!" said Kirby. + +"And if you can't help it, Colonel Kirby?" + +"In that case he has got what he asked for, and there can be no +charge against him until he shows up." + +"I understand you have your marching orders?" + +"I have sealed orders!" snapped Kirby. + +"To be opened at sea?" + +"To be opened when I see fit!" + +"Oh!" + +"Yes," said Kirby. "I asked you is Ranjoor Singh still under +suspicion!" + +"My good sir, I am not the arbiter of Ranjoor Singh's destiny! How +should I know?" + +"I intend to know!" vowed Kirby, rising. + +"I'm prepared to state that Ranjoor Singh is not in danger of +arrest. I don't see that you have right to ask more than that, +Colonel Kirby. Martial law has been declared this morning, and things +don't take their ordinary course any longer, you know." + +Kirby paced once across the office floor, and once back again. Then +he faced the man in drab as a duelist faces his antagonist. + +"I don't like to go over men's heads," he said, "as you threatened +to do to me, for instance, yesterday. If you will give me +satisfactory assurance that Ranjoor Singh is being treated as a loyal +officer should be, I will ask no more. If not, I shall go now to the +general commanding. As you say, there's martial law now, he's the man +to see." + +"Colonel Kirby," said the man in drab, twisting at his watch-guard +furiously, "if you'll tell me what's in your sealed orders--open them +and see--I'll tell you what I know about Ranjoor Singh, and we'll +call it a bargain!" + +"I wasn't joking," said Kirby, turning red as his scalp from the +roots of his hair to his collar. + +"I'm in deadly earnest!" said the man in drab. + +So, without a word more, Colonel Kirby hurried out again, carrying +his saber in his left hand at an angle that was peculiar to him, and +that illustrated determination better than words could have done. + +His huge horse plunged away almost before he had gained the seat, +and, saber and all, he gained the seat at a step-and-a-jump. But the +sais was not up behind, and Kirby had scarcely settled down to drive +before the man in drab had the telephone mouthpiece to his lips and +had given his mysterious number again--4-3-2-9-2. + +"He's coming, sir!" he said curtly. + +Somebody at the other end apparently asked, "Who is coming?" for the +man in drab answered: + +"Kirby." + + * * * * * + +Five minutes later Kirby caught a general at breakfast, and was +received with courtesy and feigned surprise. + +"D'you happen to know anything about my risaldar-major, Ranjoor +Singh?" asked Kirby, after a hasty apology for bursting in. + +"Why?" + +"He was under suspicion yesterday--I was told so. Next he +disappeared. Then I received a message from him asking me to assign +him to special duty; that was after I'd more than half believed him +burned to death in a place called the 'House-of-the-Eight-Half- +brothers.' He has sent some most extraordinary messages to his +squadron by the hand of a mysterious babu, but not a word of +explanation of any kind. Can you tell me anything about him, sir?" + +"Wasn't a trooper of yours murdered yesterday?" the general asked. + +"Yes," said Kirby. + +"And another missing?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Did Ranjoor Singh go off to search for the missing man?" + +"I was told so." + +"H-rrrr-ump! Well, I'm glad you came; you've saved me trouble! Did +you put Ranjoor Singh in Orders as assigned to special duty?" + +"Yes." + +"What is the missing trooper's name?" + +"Jagut Singh." + +"Well, please enter him in Orders, too." + +"Special service?" + +"Special service," said the general. "How about Ranjoor Singh's +charger?" + +"I understand that he's been kept well groomed by Ranjoor Singh's +orders, and my adjutant tells me he has the horse in care in his own +stable." + +The general made a note. + +"Whose stable?" lie asked. + +"Warrington's." + +"Warrington, of Outram's Own, eh? Captain Warrington?" + +The general wrote that down, while Kirby watched him bewildered. + +"Well now, Kirby, that'll be all right Have the horse left there, +will you? I hope You've been able to dispose of your own horses to +advantage. Two chargers don't seem a large allowance for a commanding +officer of a cavalry regiment, but that's all you can take with you. +You'll have to leave the rest behind." + +"Haven't given it a thought, sir! Too busy thinking about Ranjoor +Singh. Worried about him." + +"Shouldn't worry!" said the general. "Ranjoor Singh's all right." + +"That's the first assurance I've had of it, except by way of a +mysterious note," said Kirby. + +"By all right, I mean that he isn't in disgrace. But now about your +horses and private effects. You've done nothing about them?" + +"I'll have time to attend to that this afternoon, sir." + +"Oh, no, you won't. That's why I'm glad you came! These"--he gave +him a sealed envelope--"are supplementary orders, to be opened when +you get back to barracks. I want you out of the way by noon if +possible. We'll send a man down this morning to take charge of +whatever any of you want kept, and you'd better tell him to sell the +rest and pay the money to your bankers; he'll be a responsible +officer. That's all. Good-by, Kirby, and good luck!" + +The general held out his hand. + +"One more minute, sir," said Kirby. "About Ranjoor Singh!" + +"What about him?" + +"Well, sir--what about him?" + +"What have you heard?" + +"That--I've heard a sort of promise that he'll be with his squadron, +to lead it, before the blood runs." + +"Won't that be time enough?" asked the general, smiling. He was +looking at Kirby very closely. "Not sick, are you?" he asked. "No? I +thought your scalp looked rather redder than usual." + +Kirby flushed to the top of his collar instantly, and the general +pretended to arrange a sheaf of papers on the table. + +"One reason why you're being sent first, my boy," said the general, +holding out his hand again, "is that you and your regiment are +fittest to be sent. But I've taken into consideration, too, that I +don't want you or your adjutant killed by a cobra in any event. And-- +_snf--snf_--the salt sea air gets rid of the smell of musk +quicker than anything. Good-by, Kirby, my boy, and God bless you!" + +"Good-by, sir!" + +Kirby stammered the words, and almost ran down the steps to his +waiting dog-cart. As all good men do, when undeserved ridicule or +blame falls to their lot, he wondered what in the world he could have +done wrong. + +He had no blame for anybody, only a fierce resentment of injustice-- +an almost savage sense of shame that any one should know about the +adventure of the night before, and a rising sense of joy in his +soldier's heart because he had orders in his pocket to be up and +doing. So, and only so, could he forget it all. + +He whipped up his horse and went down the general's drive at a pace +that made the British sentry at the gate grin from ear to ear with +whole-souled approval. He did not see a fat babu approach the +general's bungalow from the direction of the bazaar. The babu +salaamed profoundly, but Kirby's eyes were fixed on the road ahead, +and his thoughts were already deep in the future. He saw nothing +except the road, until he took the last corner into barracks on one +wheel, and drew up a minute later in front of the bachelor quarters +that had sheltered him for the past four years. + + * * * * * + +"Pack! Campaign kit! One trunk!" he ordered his servant. "Orderly!" + +An orderly ran in from outside. + +"Tell Major Brammle and Captain Warrington to come to me!" + +It took ten minutes to find Warrington, since every job was his, and +nearly every responsibility, until his colonel should take charge of +a paraded, perfect regiment, and lead it away to its fate. He came at +last, however, and on the run, and Brammle with him. + +"Orders changed!" said Kirby. "March at noon! Man'll be here this +morning to take charge of officers' effects. Better have things ready +for him and full instructions. One trunk allowed each officer. Two +chargers." + +"Destination, sir?" asked Brammle. + +"Not disclosed!" + +"Where do we entrain?" asked Warrington. + +"We march out of Delhi. Entrain later, at a place appointed on the +road." + +Warrington began to hum to himself and to be utterly, consciously +happy. + +"Then I'll get a move on!" he said, starting to hurry out. +"Everything's ready, but--" + +"Wait a minute!" commanded Kirby; and Warrington remained in the +room after Brammle had left it. + +"You haven't said anything to anybody, of course, about that +incident last night?" + +"No, sir." + +"Then _she_ has!" + +Warrington whistled. + +"Are you sure she has?" + +"Quite. I've just had proof of it!" + +"Makes a fellow reverence the sex!" swore Warrington. + +"It'll be forgotten by the time we're back in India," said Kirby +solemnly. "Remember to keep absolutely silent about it. The best way +to help others forget it is to forget it yourself. Not one word now +to anybody, even under provocation!" + +"Not a word, sir!" + +"All right. Go and attend to business!" + +What "attending to business" meant nobody can guess who has not been +in at the breaking up of quarters at short notice. Everything was +ready, as Warrington had boasted, but even an automobile may "stall" +for a time in the hands of the best chauffeur, and a regiment +contains as many separate human equations as it has men in its ranks. + +The amount of personal possessions that had to be jettisoned, or +left to the tender mercies of a perfunctory agent, would have wrung +groans from any one but soldiers. The last minute details that seemed +to be nobody's job, and that, therefore, all fell to Warrington +because somebody had to see to them, were beyond the imagination of +any but an adjutant, and not even Warrington's imagination proved +quite equal to the task. + +"We're ready, sir!" he reported at last to Kirby. "We're paraded and +waiting. Brammle's inspected 'em, and I've done ditto. There are only +thirteen thousand details left undone that I can't think of, and not +one of 'em's important enough to keep us waitin'!" + +So Kirby rode out on parade and took the regiment's salute. There +was nobody to see them off. There were not even women to wail by the +barrack gate, for they marched away at dinner-time and official lies +had been distributed where they would do most good. + +Englishman and Sikh alike rode untormented by the wails or waving +farewells of their kindred; and there was only a civilian on a white +pony, somewhere along ahead, who seemed to know that they were more +than just parading. He led them toward the Ajmere Gate, and by the +time that the regiment's luggage came along in wagons, with the +little rear-guard last of all, it was too late to run and warn +people. Outram's Own had gone at high noon, and nobody the wiser! + +There was no music as they marched and no talking. Only the jingling +bits and rattling hoofs proclaimed that India's best were riding on a +sudden summons to fight for the "Salt." They marched in the direction +least expected of them, three-quarters of a day before their +scheduled time, and even "Guppy," the mess bull-terrier, who ran +under the wagon with the officers' luggage, behaved as if all ends of +the world were one to him. He waved his tail with dignity and trotted +in content. + +Hard by the Ajmere Gate they halted, for some bullock carts had +claimed their centuries-long prerogative of getting in the way. While +the bullocks, to much tail-twisting and objurgation, labored in the +mud in every direction but the right one, Colonel Kirby sat his +charger almost underneath the gate, waiting patiently. Then the +advance-guard clattered off and he led along. + +He never knew where it came from and he never tried to guess. He +caught it instinctively, and kept it for the sake of chivalry, or +perhaps because she had made him think for a moment of his mother. At +all events, the bunch of jasmine flowers that fell into his lap found +a warm berth under his buttoned tunic, and he rode on through the +great gate with a kinder thought for Yasmini than probably she would +guess. + +With that resentment gone, he could ride now as suited him, with all +his thoughts ahead, and there lacked then only one thing to complete +his pleasure--he missed Ranjoor Singh. + +It was not that the squadron would lack good leading. An English +officer had taken Ranjoor Singh's place. It was the man he missed-- +the decent loyal gentleman who had worked untiringly to sweat a +squadron into shape to Kirby's liking and never once presumed, nor +had taken offense at criticism--the man who had been good enough to +understand the ethics of an alien colonel, and to translate them for +the benefit of his command. It is not easy for a Sikh to rise to the +rank of major and lead a squadron for the Raj. + +He counted Ranjoor Singh his friend, and he knew that Ranjoor Singh +would have given all the rest of his life to ride away now for only +one encounter on a foreign battle-field. Nothing, nothing less than +the word of Ranjoor Singh himself, would ever convince him of the +man's disloyalty. And he would have felt better if he could have +shaken hands with Ranjoor Singh before going, since it seemed to be +the order of the day that the Sikh should stay behind. + +It did not seem quite the thing to be riding away to war with the +best native officer in all India somewhere in Delhi on "special +service"--whatever that might be. + +He was given, as a rule, to smiling at any man who did his best. On +any other day he would have very likely exchanged a joke with the +bullock-man who labored so unavailingly to get the road cleared in a +hurry. But to-day, since his thoughts were of Ranjoor Singh, he paid +the man no attention; he had not even formed a mental picture of him +by the time he passed the gate. + +It was Warrington, cantering up from behind a minute or so later, +who changed the color of the earth and sky. + +"Did you recognize him, sir?" + +"Whom?" + +"Ranjoor Singh!" + +"No! Where?" + +"Not the bullock-man who blocked the road, but the man who ran out +from behind the gate and straightened things out again. That man was +Ranjoor Singh in mufti!" + +"What makes you think so?" + +"I recognized him. So did his squadron--look at them! They're +riding like new men!" + +Kirby looked, and there was no doubt about D Squadron. + +"Is he there still?" he asked. + +"I can see a man standing there--see him? Fellow in white between +two bullock carts?" + +Kirby pulled out to the roadside and let the regiment pass him. Then +he cantered back. The man between the bullock carts had his back +turned, and was gazing toward Delhi under his hand. + +"Ranjoor Singh!" said Kirby, reining suddenly. "Is that you?" + +"Uh?" The man faced about. He was no more Ranjoor Singh than he was +Colonel Kirby. + +"Where is the man who came from behind the gate to clear the road?" + +The man pointed toward the gate. Inside, within the gloom of the +gate itself, Kirby was certain he saw a Sikh who stood at the salute. +He cantered to the gate, for he would have given a year's pay for +word with Ranjoor Singh. But when he reached the gate the man was gone. + +"And he promised he'd be there to lead his squadron when the blood +runs," wondered Kirby. + + + "Now a trap," said the tiger, "is easy to spot," + (Oh, jungli, be seated and listen!) + "Some tempt you with live bait, and others do not;" + (Oh, jungli, be leery and listen!) + "The easiest sort to detect have a door-- + A box, with three walls and a roof and a floor-- + That the veriest, hungriest cub should ignore." + (Oh, jungli, stop laughing and listen!) + "This isn't a trap, as I'll show you, my friend." + But the tiger fell into it. That is the end. + (Oh, jungli, be loving and listen!) + +YASMINI'S SONG. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +Ranjoor Singh; on the trail of a murderer, shoved with his whole +strength against a little door of the House-of-the-Eight-Half- +brothers. It yielded suddenly. He shot in headlong, and the door +slammed behind him. As he fell forward into pitch blackness he was +conscious of shooting bolts behind and of the squeaking of a beam +swung into place. + +But, having served the Raj for more years than he wanted to +remember, through three campaigns in the Himalayas, once against the +Masudis, and once in China, he was in full possession of trained +soldier senses. Darkness, he calculated instantly, was a shield to +him who can use it, and a danger only to the unwary; and there are +grades of wariness, just as there are grades of sloth. + +Two men who thought themselves so wide awake as to be beyond the +reach of government, each threw a noosed rope, and caught each other. +Ranjoor Singh could not see the ropes, but he could hear the stifled +swearing and the ensuing struggle; and an ear is as good as an eye in +the dark. + +Something--he never knew what--warned him to duck and step forward. +He felt the whistle of a club that missed him by so little as to make +the skin twitch on the back of his neck. + +His right leg shot sidewise, and he tripped a man. In another second +he had the club, and there was no measurable interval of time then +before the darkness was a living miracle of blows that came from +everywhere and missed nothing. + +Three men went down, and Ranjoor Singh was in command of a situation +whose wherefore and possibilities he could not guess until an +electric torch declared itself some twenty feet away, at more than +twice his height, and he stood vignetted in a circle of white light. + +"The sahib proves a gentle guest!" purred a voice he thought he +recognized. It was a woman's. "Has the sahib a pistol with him?" + +Ranjoor Singh, cursing his own neglect of soldierly precaution, saw +fit not to answer. A human arm reached like a snake into the ring of +light. He struck at it with the club, and a groan announced that he +had struck hard enough. + +"Does the sahib think that the noise of a pistol would cause his +friends to come? Is Ranjoor Singh ashamed? Speak, sahib! Is it well +to break into a house and be surly with the hostess?" + +Ranjoor Singh stepped backward, and the ring of light followed him, +until he stood pressed against the teak door and could feel the heavy +beam that ran up and down it, locked firmly above and below. He +prodded over his head behind him with the club, trying to find what +held the beam, and the ring of light lifted a foot or two, then five +feet, until its center was on the center of the club's handle. + +A pistol cracked and flashed then, from behind the light, and the +club splintered. He dropped it, and the torch-light ceased, leaving +him dazed, but not so dazed that he did not hear a man sneak up and +carry the splintered club away. He followed after the man, for he +knew now that he was in a narrow passage and no man could get by him +to attack from behind. + +But again the torch-light sought him out. Half-way to the foot of +steep stairs that he could dimly outline he halted, for advance +against hidden pistol-fire and dazzling light was futile. + +"Look!" said the same soft, woman's voice. "Look, sahib! See, +Ranjoor Singh! the hooded death! See the hooded death behind you!" + +It was not her command that made him look. He knew better than to +turn his head at an unseen woman's bidding in the dark. But he heard +them hiss, and he turned to see four cobras come toward him, with the +front third of their bodies raised from the floor and their hoods +extended. He saw that a panel in the wooden wall had slid, and the +last snake's tail was yet inside the gap. There was no need of a man +to slip between him and the door! + +"There are more in the wall, Ranjoor Singh! Will they follow thee up- +stairs? See, they come! Step swiftly, for the hooded death is swift!" + +The light went out again, and his ears were all he had to warn him +of the snakes' approach--ears and imagination. Swift as a well +launched charge of light cavalry, he leaped for the stairs and took +them four at a time. He reached the top one sooner than he knew it. +The torch flashed in his eyes, and he saw a pistol-mouth just beyond +arm-reach. + +"Stand, Ranjoor Singh!" said a voice that he felt sure he +recognized. His eyes began to search beyond the light for glimpses of +dim outline. + +"Back, Ranjoor Singh! Back to the right--toward that door! In, +through that door--so!" + +He obeyed, since he knew now with whom he had to deal. There was no +sense at all in taking liberties with Yasmini. He stepped into a +bare, dark, teak-walled room, and she followed him, and she had +scarcely closed the door at her back before another door opened at +the farther end, and two of her maids appeared, carrying candle-lamps. + +"What do you want with me?" demanded Ranjoor Singh. + +"Nay! Did I invite the sahib?" + +"I came about a murderer who entered by that door through which I +came." + +"To pay him the reward, perhaps?" she asked impudently. + +"Is this thy house?" asked Ranjoor Singh. + +"This is the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers, sahib." + +"This is a hole where murderers hide! A man of mine was slain in the +street below, and the murderer came in here. Where is he now?" + +"He and the bigger fool who followed him," said Yasmini, poising +herself like a nodding blossom and smiling like the promise of new +love, as she paused to be insolent and let the insolence sink home, +"are at my mercy!" + +Ranjoor Singh did not answer, but she could draw no amusement from +his silence, for his eye was unafraid. + +"I am from the North, where the quality of mercy is thought +weakness," she smiled sweetly. + +"Who asks mercy? I was seen and heard to enter. There will be a +hundred seeking me within an hour!" + +"Sahib, within two hours there will be five thousand around this +house, yet none will seek to enter! And they will find no murderer, +though thou shalt see thy murderer. Come this way, sahib." + +A whiff of warm wind might have blown her, so swiftly, lissomely she +ran toward the other door, laughing back at him across her shoulder +and leaving a trail of aromatic scent. The two maids held their +candle-lanterns high, and, striding like a soldier, Ranjoor Singh +followed Yasmini, not caring that the maids shut the heavy door +behind him and bolted it. He argued to himself that he was as safe in +one room as in another, and she as dangerous; also, that it made no +difference in which room he might be when the squadron or his colonel +missed him. + +"Look, Ranjoor Singh! Look through that hole!" + +There was plenty of light in this room, for there was a lantern in +every corner. He could see that she was gazing through a hole in the +wall at something that amused her, and she motioned to another hole +eight feet away from it. He crossed a floor that was solid and age-old; +no two planks of it were of even width or length, but none creaked. + +At her invitation he looked through the little square hole she +pointed out. And then, for the first time, he confessed surprise. + +"Thou, Jagut Singh!" he exclaimed. + +He stepped back, blinked to reassure himself, and stepped to the +hole again. Back to back, tied right hand to right, left hand to +left, so that their arms were crossed behind them, and lashed waist +to waist, a trooper of D Squadron and the Afridi whom lie had kicked +at Yasmini's sat on the floor facing opposite walls. Dumb misery was +stamped on the Sikh's face, the despair of evaporated savagery on the +Afridi's. + +"Jagut Singh!" said the risaldar-major, louder this time; and the +trooper looked up, almost as if hope had been that instant born in him. + +"Jagut Singh!" + +The trooper grinned. A white row of ivory showed between his black +beard and mustache. He tried to look sidewise, but the rope that held +him tight to the Afridi hurt his neck. + +"I knew it, sahib!" he shouted. "I knew that one would come for me! +This hill wildcat has fought until the ropes cut both of us; but take +time, sahib! I can wait. Attend to the duty first. Only let him who +comes bring water with him, for this is a thirsty place!" + +Ranjoor Singh looked sidewise. He could see that Yasmini was +absorbed in contemplation of her prisoners. Her little lithe form was +pressed tightly against the wall, less than two yards away. He could +guess, and he had heard a dozen times, that dancing had made her +stronger than a panther and more swift. Yet he thought that if he had +her in his arms he could crush those light ribs until she would yield +and order her prisoner released. The trooper's confidence deserved +immediate, not postponed, reward. + +He watched for a minute. He could see that her bosom rose and fell +regularly against the woodwork; she was all unconscious of her +danger, he was sure of it. He changed his position, and she neither +looked nor moved. He changed it again, so that his weight was all on +his left foot; he was sure she had not noticed. Then he sprang. + +He sprang sidewise, as a horse does that sees a snake by the +roadside, every nerve and sinew keyed to the tightest pitch--eye, ear +and instinct working together. And she, in the same second, turned to +meet him smiling, with outstretched arms, as if she would meet him +half-way and hug him to her bosom, only she stepped a pace backward, +instead of forward as she had seemed to intend. + +He landed where he had meant to, on the spot where she had stood. +His left hand clutched at the wall, and a second too late he made a +wild grab at the hole she had peered through, trying to get his +fingers into it. What she had done he never knew, but the floor she +had stood on yielded, and he heard her laugh as he slipped through +the opening like a tiger into a pit-trap, and fell downward into +blackness. + +With a last tremendous effort he caught at the floor and held +himself suspended by his finger-ends. But she came and trod on them, +and though her weight was light, malice made her skilful, and she +hurt him until he had to set his teeth and drop. He would never have +believed that those soft slipper-soles could have given so much pain. + +"Forget not thy trooper in his need!" she called, as he fell away +through the opening. And then the trap shut. + +To his surprise he did not fall very far, and though he landed on an +elbow and a hip, he struck so softly that for a moment he believed he +must be mad, or dead, or dreaming. Then his fingers, numb from +Yasmini's pressure, began to recognize the feel of gunny-bags, and of +cotton-wool, and of paper. Also, he smelled kerosene or something +very like it. + +"Forget not the water for thy trooper, Ranjoor Singh!" + +He looked up to see Yasmini's face framed in the opening, and he +thought there was more devilment expressed in it, for all her +loveliness, than in her voice that never quite lost its hint of +laughter. He did not answer, and the trap-door closed again. + +He knelt and began to grope through the dark on hands and knees, but +gave that up presently because the dust from old sacks and piles of +rubbish began to choke him. Then rats came to investigate him. He +heard several of them scamper close, and one bit his leg; so he made +ready to fight for his life against the worst enemy a man may have, +praying a little in the Sikh way, that does not reckon God to be far +off at any time. + +Suddenly the trap-door opened, and the rats scampered away from the +light and noise. + +"Thus is a soldier answered!" muttered Ranjoor Singh. + +"Is the risaldar-major sahib thirsty?" wondered Yasmini. + +He could hear her pouring water out of a brass ewer into a dish, and +pouring it back again. The metal rang and the water splashed +deliriously, but he was not very thirsty yet; he had been thirstier +on parade a hundred times. + +When her head and shoulders darkened the aperture, he did not +trouble this time to look at her. + +"Is it dark down there?" she asked him; but he did not answer. + +So she struck a match and lit a newspaper. In a moment a ball of +fire was floating downward to him, and it was then that the smell of +dust and kerosene entered his consciousness as pincers enter the +flesh of men in torment. He stood up with hands upstretched to catch +the fire--caught it--bore it downward--and smothered it in gunny-bags. + +"Still dark?" she said, looking through the aperture once more. "I +will send another one!" + +So Ranjoor Singh found his tongue and cursed her with a force and +comprehensiveness that only Asia can command; he gave her to +understand that the next fire she dropped on him should be allowed to +work God's will and burn her--her, her rats, her cobras, and her +cutthroats. Two honest Sikhs, he swore, would die well to such an end. + +"Drop thy fire and I will fan the flame!" he vowed, and she believed +him. + +"I will send my cobras down to keep the sahib company!" she mocked. + +But Ranjoor Singh proposed to take one danger at a time, and he was +quite sure that she wanted him alive, not dead, for otherwise he +would have been dead already. He held his tongue and listened while +she splashed the water. + +"Thy trooper is very thirsty, sahib!" + +She was on a warmer scent now, for that squadron of his and the men +of his squadron were the one love of his warrior life. Some spirit of +malice whispered her as much. + +"The trooper shall have water when Ranjoor Singh sahib has promised +on his Sikh honor." + +"Promised what?" His voice betrayed interest at last; it suggested +future possibilities instead of a grim present. + +"That he will do what is required of him!" + +"Is that the price of a drink for Jagut Singh?" + +"Aye! Will the sahib pay, or will he let the trooper parch?" + +"Ask Jagut Singh! Go, ask him! Let it be as he answers!" + +He could hear her hurry away, although she slammed the trap-door +shut. Evidently she was not satisfied to speak through the little +hole, and he suspected that she was showing the man water, perhaps +giving some to the Afridi for sweet suggestion's sake. She was back +within five minutes, and by the way she opened the trap and grinned +at him he knew what her answer would be. + +"He begs that you promise! He begs, sahib! He says he is thy +trooper, thy dog, thy menial, and very thirsty!" + +"Bring some one who knows better how to lie!" said Ranjoor Singh. "I +_know_ what his answer was! He said, 'Say to the risaldar-major +sahib that I have eaten salt, but I am not thirsty!' Go, tell him his +answer was a good one, and that I know he said it! I know that man, +as men know each other. Thou art a woman, and thy knowledge is but +emptiness. Thou hast heard now twice what the answer is, once from +him and once from me!" + +"I will leave thee to the rats!" she said, slamming the trap-door +tight. + +The rats came, and he began to grope about for a weapon to use +against them. He caught one rat in his fingers, squeezed the +squealing brute to death and flung it away, and he heard a hundred of +its messmates race to devour the carcass. + +He began to see little active eyes around him in the blackness, that +watched his every movement, and he kept moving since that seemed to +puzzle them. Also he wondered, as a drowning man might wonder about +things, how long it would be before Colonel Kirby would send for him +to ask about the murdered trooper. Something would happen then, he +felt quite sure. + +The rats by this time had grown very daring, and he had been bitten +again twice; he found time to wonder what lies Yasmini would tell to +account for her share in things. He did not doubt she would lie +herself out of it, but he wondered just how, along what unexpected +line. It began to seem to him that the colonel and his squadron were +a very long time coming. + +"But they will come!" he assured himself. + + * * * * * + +He was nearer to the mark when he expected unexpectedness from +Yasmini, for she did not disappoint him. A door opened at one end of +the black dark cellar, and again the rats scampered for cover as +Yasmini herself stood framed in it, with a lantern above her head. +She was alone, and he could not see that she had any weapon. + +"This way, sahib!" she called sweetly to him. + +Never--North, South, East or West, in olden days or modern--did a +siren call half so seductively. Every move she ever made was poetry +expressed, but framed in a golden aura shed by the lamp, and swaying +in the velvet blackness of the pit's mouth, she was, it seemed to +Ranjoor Singh, as no man had ever yet seen woman. + +"Come, sahib!" she called again; and he moved toward her. + +"Food and water wait! Thy trooper has drunk his fill. Come, sahib!" + +She made no move at all to protect herself from him. She did not +lead into the cavern beyond the door. She waited for him, leaning +against the door-post and smiling as if she and he were old friends +who understood each other. + +"I but tried thee, Ranjoor Singh!" she smiled, looking up into his +face and holding the lantern closer to his eyes, as if she would read +behind them. "Thou art a soldier, and not a buffalo at all! I am +sorry that I called thee buffalo. My heart goes out ever to a brave +man, Ranjoor Singh!" + +He was actually at her side, her clothes touched his, and he could +have flung his arms around her. But it was the move next after that +which seemed obscure. He wondered what her reply would be; and, +moving the lantern a little, she read the hesitation in his eyes--the +wavering between desire for vengeance, a soldierly regard for sex, +and mistrust of her apparent helplessness. And, being Yasmini, she +dared him. + +"Like swords I have seen!" she laughed. "Two cutting edges and a +point! Not to be held save by the hilt, eh, Ranjoor Singh? Search me +for weapons first, and then use that dagger in thy hair--I am unarmed!" + +"Lead on!" he commanded in a voice that grated harshly, for it +needed all his willpower to prevent his self-command from giving out. +He knew that behind temptation of any kind there lie the iron teeth +of unexpected consequences. + +She let the lantern swing below her knees and leaned back to laugh +at him, until the cavern behind her echoed as if all the underworld +had seen and was amused. + +"I called thee a buffalo!" she panted. "Nay, I was very wrong! I +laugh at my mistake! Come, Ranjoor Singh!" + +With a swing of the lantern and a swerve of her lithe body, she +slipped out of his reach and danced down an age-old hewn-stone +passage, out of which doors seemed to lead at every six or seven +yards; only the doors were all made fast with iron bolts so huge that +it would take two men to manage them. + +He hurried after her. But the faster he followed the faster she ran, +until it needed little imagination to conceive her a will-o'-the-wisp +and himself a crazy man. + +"Come!" she kept calling to him. "Come!" + +And then she commenced to sing, as if dark passages beneath the +Delhi streets were a fit setting for her skill and loveliness. +Ranjoor Singh had never heard the song before. It was about a tiger +who boasted and fell into a trap. It made him more cautious than he +might have been, and when the darkness began to grow less opaque he +slowed into a walk. Then he stood still, for he could not see her any +longer. + +It occurred to him to turn back. But that thought had not more than +crossed his mind when a noose was pulled tight around his legs and a +big sheet, thrown out of the darkness, was wrapped and wrapped about +him until he could neither shout nor move. He knew that they were +women who managed the sheet, because he bit one's finger through it +and she screamed. Then he heard Yasmini's voice close to his ear. + +"Thy colonel sahib and another are outside!" she whispered. "It is +not well to wait here, Ranjoor Singh!" + +Next he felt a great rush of air, and after that the roar of flame +was so unmistakable--although he could feel no heat yet--that he +wondered whether he was to be burned alive. + +"Is it well alight?" asked Yasmini. + +"Yes!" said a maid whose teeth chattered. + +"Good! Presently the fools will come and pour water enough to fill +this passage. Thus none may follow us! Come!" + +Ranjoor Singh was gathered up and carried by frightened women--he +could feel them tremble. For a moment he felt the outer air, and he +caught the shout of a crowd that had seen flames. Then he was thrown +face downward on the floor of some sort of carriage and driven away. + +He lost all sense of direction after a moment, though he did not +forget to count, and by his rough reckoning he was driven through the +streets for about nine minutes at a fast trot. Then the carriage +stopped, and he was carried out again, up almost endless stairs, +across a floor that seemed yet more endless, and thrown into a corner. + +He heard a door slam shut, and almost at the same moment his +fingers, that had never once ceased working, tore a corner of the +sheet loose. + +In another minute he was free. + +He threw the sheet from him and looked about, accustoming his eyes +to darkness. Presently, not far from him, he made out the sheeted +figure of another man, who lay exactly as he had done and worked with +tired fingers. He drew the dagger out of his hair and cut the man +loose. + +"Jagut Singh!" he exclaimed. + +The trooper stood up and saluted. + +"Who brought thee here?" + +"Women, sahib, in a carriage!" + +"When?" + +"Even now!" + +"Where is that Afridi?" + +"Dead, sahib!" + +"How?" + +"She brought us water in a brass vessel, saying it was by thy +orders, sahib. She cut us loose and gave him water first. Then, while +she gave me to drink the Afridi attacked her, and I slew him with my +hands, tearing his throat out--thus! While the life yet fluttered in +him they threw a sheet over me--and here I am! Salaam, sahib!" + +The trooper saluted again. + +"Who made thee prisoner in the first place?" + +"Hillmen, sahib, at the orders of the Afridi who is now dead. They +made ready to torture me, showing me the knives they would use. But +she came, and they obeyed her, binding the Afridi fast to me. After +that I heard the sahib's voice, and then this happened. That is all, +sahib." + +"Well!" said Ranjoor Singh. And for the third time his trooper saw +fit to salute him. + + + Who shall be trusted to carry my trust? + (Hither, and answer me, stranger!) + Slow to give ground be he--swifter to thrust-- + Instant,--yet wary o' danger! + Hand without craftiness, eye without lust, + Lip without flattery! Such an one must + Prove yet his worthiness--yet earn my trust! + (Closer, and answer me, stranger!) + First let me lead him alone, and apart; + There let me feel of his pulse and his heart! + (Hither, and play with me, stranger!) + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Men say Yasmini does not sleep. Of course, that is absurd. None the +less, it is certain she must do much of her plotting in the daytime, +for by night, until after midnight, she is always the Yasmini whom +the Northern gentry know, at home to all comers in her wonderful +apartment. + +It is ever a mystery to them how she knows all that is going on in +Delhi, and in India, and in the greater outer world, although they +themselves bring her information that no government could ever suck +out of the silent hills. They know where she keeps her cobras--where +the strong-box is, in which her jewels lie crowded--who run her +errands--and some of her past history, for not even a mongoose is +more inquisitive than a man born in the hills, and Yasmini has many +maids. But none--not even her favorite, most confidential maids--know +what is in the little room that she reaches down a private flight of +stairs that have a steel door at the top. + +She keeps the key to that steel door, and it has, besides, a +combination lock that only she understands. + +Once a very clever hillman, who had been south for an education and +had learned skepticism in addition to the rule of three, undertook to +discover wires leading over roof-tops to that room; but he searched +for a week and did not find them. When his search was over, and all +had done laughing at him, he was found one night with a knife-wound +between his shoulder-blades, and, later still, Yasmini sang a song +about him. None searched for wires after that, and the consensus of +opinion still is that she makes magic in the room below-stairs. + +She sought that room the minute Ranjoor Singh was safely locked in +with his trooper, although her maids reported more than one Northern +gentleman waiting impatiently in the larger of her two reception- +rooms for official information of the war. Government bulletins are +regarded as pure fiction always, unless confirmed by Yasmini. + +And, within five minutes of Ranjoor Singh's release of his trooper +from the sheet, no less a personage than a general officer had thrown +aside other business and had drawn on a cloak of secrecy that not +even his own secretary could penetrate. + +"Closed carriage!" he ordered; and, as though the fire brigade were +doing double duty, a carriage came, and the horses, rump-down, halted +from the gallop outside his door. + +"Pathan turban!" he ordered; and his servant brought him one. + +"Sheepskin cloak!" + +In a moment the upper half of him would have passed in the dark for +that of a rather portly Northern trader. He decided that a rug would +do the rest, and snatched one as he ran for the carriage with the +turban under his arm. He gave no order to the driver other than +"Cheloh!" and that means "Go ahead"; so the driver, who was a Sikh, +went ahead as the guns go into action, asway and aswing, regardless +of everything but speed. + +"Yasmini's!" said the general, at the end of a hundred yards; and +the Sikh took a square, right-angle turn at full gallop with a +neatness the Horse Artillery could not have bettered. There seemed to +be no need of further instructions, for the Sikh pulled up unbidden +at the private door that is to all appearance only a mark on the +dirty-looking wall. + +With a rug around his middle, there shot out then what a watching +small boy described afterward as "a fat hill-rajah on his way to be +fleeced." The carriage drove on, for coachmen who wait outside +Yasmini's door are likely to be butts for questions. The door opened +without any audible signal, and the man with the rug around his +middle disappeared. + +He had ceased to bear any resemblance to any one but a stout English +general in mess-dress by the time he reached the dark stairhead; and +Yasmini took the precaution of being there alone to meet him. She +held, a candle-lantern. + +"Whom have you?" he demanded. + +They seemed to understand each other--these two. He paid her no +compliments, and she expected none; she made no attempt at all to +flatter him or deceive him. But, being Yasmini, it did not lie in her +to answer straightly. + +"I set a trap and a buffalo blundered into it! He will do better +than any other!" + +"Whom have you?" + +"Risaldar-Major Ranjoor Singh!" + +The general whistled softly. + +"Of the Sikh Light Cavalry?" he asked. + +"One of Kirby sahib's officers, and a trooper into the bargain!" + +The general whistled again. + +"There were two troopers whom I meant to catch," she said hurriedly, +for it was evident that the general did not at all approve of the +turn affairs had taken. "I had a trap for them at the House-of-the- +Eight-Half-brothers, and some hillmen in there ready to rush out and +seize them as they passed. But a fool Afridi murdered one, and I only +got there in the nick of time to save the other's life. I meant that +Ranjoor Singh, who is a buffalo, should be troubled about his +troopers and suspected on his own account, for he and I have a +private quarrel. I did not mean to catch him, or make use of him. But +he walked into the trap. What shall be done with him? Let the sahib +say the word and----" + +Her gesture was inimitable. Not so the gurgle that she gave, for a +man's breath bubbling through the blood of a slit throat makes the +same shuddersome sound exactly. The general took no notice whatever +of that, for wise men of the West understand the East's attempts to +scandalize them. It is the everlasting amusement of Yasmini, and a +thousand others, to pretend that the English are even more blood +careless than themselves, just as it is their practise to build +confidently on the opposite fact. + +"Did _you_ fire the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers?" asked +the general suddenly. "Am I a sweeper?" she retorted. + +"Did you order it done?" + +"Did Jumna rise when the rain came? There were six good cobras of +mine burned alive, to say nothing of the bones of a dead Afridi! Nay, +sahib, I ordered a clear trail left from there to here, connecting me +and thee and Ranjoor Singh to the Germans and a dog of an Afridi +murderer. I left a trail that even the police could follow!" + +"Whose property is that house?" + +"Whose? Ask the lawyers! They have fought about it in the courts +until lawyers own every stick and stone of it, and now the lawyers +fight one another! The government will spend a year now," she +laughed, "seeking whom to fine for the fire. It will be good to see +the lawyers run to cover!" + +"This is a bad business!" said the general sternly; and he used two +words in the native tongue that are thirty times more expressive of +badness as applied to machinations than are the English for them. +"The plan was to kidnap a trooper, or two troopers--to tempt him, or +them--and, should they prove incorruptible, to give them certain work +to do. And what have you done?" + +Yasmini laughed at him--merry, mocking laughter that stung him +because it was so surely genuine. She did not need to tell him in +words that she was not afraid of him; she could laugh in his face and +make the truth sink deeper. + +"And now what will the _burra_ sahib do?" she mocked. "There is +war--a great war--a war of all the world--but Yasmini fired a rat-run +and avenged a murdered Sikh. First let us punish Yasmini! Shall I +send for police to arrest me, _burra_ sahib? Or shall I send a +maid in search of babu Sita Ram that the game may continue?" + +"What do you want Sita Ram for?" + +"Sita Ram is nearly always useful, sahib. He is on a message now. He +is a fool who likes to meddle where he _thinks_ none notice him. +Such are the sort who cost least and work the longest hours. Who, for +instance, sahib, is to balk Kirby sahib when he grows suspicious and +begins to search in earnest for his Ranjoor Singh? He knew that +Ranjoor Singh was at the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers; there was +a man on watch outside. He will come here next, for Ranjoor Singh has +been reported to him as having talked with Germans in my house." + +"Reported by whom?" + +"By the Afridi who is now dead." + +"Who killed the Afridi?" + +"Does the _burra_ sahib think I killed him?" + +"I asked a question!" snapped the general. + +"In the first place, then, Ranjoor Singh, the buffalo, struck the +Afridi with his foot. The Afridi, who was a dog with yellow teeth, +went outside to sing sweet compliments to Ranjoor Singh. Certain +Sikhs heard him--of whom one was the trooper who waits in another +room with Ranjoor Singh--and they beat him nearly to death because, +being buffaloes themselves, they love Ranjoor Singh, who is the +greatest buffalo of all. + +"For revenge, the Afridi told tales of Ranjoor Singh, and later +knifed one Sikh trooper who had beaten him. The other trooper +followed him into the House-of-the-Eight-Half-brothers, where he soon +had opportunity for vengeance. Now the _burra_ sahib knows all. +Is it not a sweet love-story! Now the _burra_ sahib may arrest +everybody, and all will be well!" + +"Where did Ranjoor Singh kick the Afridi?" + +"Here--in my house!" + +"Then he was here?" + +"How else would he kick the man here? Could he send his foot by +messenger?" + +"Was the German here? Did he have word with the German?" + +"Surely. He spoke with him alone. So the Afridi reported him to the +'Rat sahib.'" + +The general frowned. However deeply the military may intrigue, they +neither like nor profess to like civilians who play the same game. + +"If Ranjoor Singh is under suspicion, what is the use of--" + +"Oh, all men are alike!" jeered Yasmini, holding up the light and +looking more impudent than the general had ever seen her--and he had +seen her often, for most of his private information about the regions +north of the Himalayas had come through her in one way or another, +and often enough from her lips direct. "I have said that Ranjoor +Singh is a buffalo! He was born a buffalo--he has been trained to be +one by the British--he likes to be one--and he will die one, with a +German bullet in his belly, unless this business prove too much for +him and he dies of fretting before he can get away to fight! + +"I--look at me, sahib! I have tempted Ranjoor Singh, and he did not +yield a hair! I stood closer to him than I am to you, and his pulse +beat no faster! All he thought of was whether he could crush me and +make me give up my prisoner. + +"Ranjoor Singh is a buffalo of buffaloes--a Jat buffalo of no +imagination and no sense. He is buffalo enough to love the British +Raj and his squadron of Jat farmers with all his stupid Sikh heart! +There _could_ not be a better for the purpose than this Ranjoor +Singh! He is stupid enough, and nearly blunt enough, to be an +Englishman. He is just of the very caliber to fool a German! Trust +me, sahib--I, who picked the man who--" + +"That'll do!" said the general; and Yasmini laughed again like the +tinkling of a silver bell. + +There came then a soft rap on the door. It opened about six inches, +and a maid whispered. + +"Wait!" ordered Yasmini. "Come through! Wait here!" She pulled the +maid through the door to the little back stair-head landing. "Did you +hear?" she hissed excitedly. "She says Kirby sahib has come, and +another with him!" + +She was twitching with excitement. Her fingers clutched the +general's sleeve, and he found himself thinking of his youth. He +released her fingers gently and she spared a giggle for him. + +"Bad business!" said the general again. "Kirby will ask questions +and go away; but the troopers of Ranjoor Singh's squadron will come +later, and they will not go away in such a hurry. You can fool +Colonel Kirby sahib, but you can not fool a hundred troopers!" + +"No?" she purred. She had done thinking and was herself again, +impudent and artful. "I can fool anybody, and any thousand men! I +have sent Sita Ram already with a message to the troopers of Ranjoor +Singh's squadron. The message was supposed to be from him, and it was +worded just as he would have worded it. Presently Sita Ram will come +back, when he has helped himself to payment. Then I can send him with +yet another message. + +"Go and put thoughts into the buffalo's head, General sahib, and be +quick! There must be a message--a written message from Ranjoor Singh +to Kirby sahib--and a token--forget not the token, in proof that the +writing is not forged! Forget not the token. There must surely be a +token!" + +She pushed the general forward down a passage, through a series of +doors, and down another passage--halted him while she fitted a +strange native key into a lock--opened another door, and pushed him +through. Then she ran back to her maid. + +"Send somebody to find Sita Ram! Bid him hurry! When he comes, put +him in the small room next the cobras, and let him be shown the +cobras until fear of too much talking has grown greater in him than +the love of being heard! Then let me see him in a mirror, so that I +may know when it is time. Have cobras in a hair-noose ready, close +behind where the sahibs sit, and watch through the hangings for my +signal! Both sahibs will kneel to me. Then watch for another signal, +and let all lights be blown out instantly! Or, if the sahibs do not +kneel (though they _shall!_), then watch yet more closely for a +signal which I will give to extinguish lights. + +"So--now, go! Am I beautiful? Are my eyes bright? Twist me that +jasmine in my hair--so. Now run--I will surprise them through the +hangings!" + +So Yasmini surprised Kirby and his adjutant, as has been told, and +it need not be repeated how she humbled the pride of India's army on +their knees. She would have to forego the delight of being Yasmini +before she could handle any situation or plan any coup along ordinary +lines, and Kirby and his adjutant were not the first Englishmen, nor +likely to be the last, to feed her merriment. + +The general, for his part, had--even although pushed without +ceremony through a door--behaved with perfect confidence, for he knew +that, whatever her whim or her sense of humor, or her impudence, +Yasmini would not fail him in the pinch. Even she, whose jest it is +to see men writhe under her hand, has to own somebody her master, and +though she would giggle at the notion of fearing any one man, or any +dozen, she does fear the representative of what she and perhaps a +hundred others call "The Game." For the night, and for the place, the +general was that representative, and however much he might +disapprove, he had no doubt of her. + + * * * * * + +Ranjoor Singh stood aghast at sight of him, and the trooper saluted +like an automaton, since nothing save obedience was any affair of his. + +"Evening, Risaldar-Major!" smiled the general. + +"Salaam, General sahib!" + +"To save time, I will tell you that I know stage by stage how you +got here." + +Ranjoor Singh looked suspicious. For five-and-twenty years he had +watched British justice work, and British justice gives both sides a +hearing; he had not told his own version yet. + +"I know that you have had word in another part of this house with a +German, who pretends to be a merchant but who is really a spy." + +Ranjoor Singh looked even more suspicious. The charge was true, +though, so he did not answer. + +"Your being brought to this house was part of a plan--part of the +same plan that leaves the German still at liberty. You are wanted to +take further part in it." + +"General sahib, am I an officer of the Raj or am I dreaming?" + +Ranjoor Singh had found his tongue at last, and the general noted +with keen pleasure that eye, voice and manner were angry and unafraid. + +"I command a squadron, sahib, unless I have been stricken mad! Since +when is a squadron commander brought face-downward in a carriage out +of rat-traps by a woman to do a general's bidding? That has been my +fate to-night. Now I am wanted to take further part! Is my honor not +yet dirtied enough, General sahib? I will take no further part. I +refuse to obey! I order this trooper not to obey. I demand court +martial!" + +"I see I'd better begin with an apology," smiled the general! He was +not trying to pretend he felt comfortable. + +"Nay, sahib! I would accept no apology. It must first be proved to +me that he, who tells me I am wanted to take further part in this rat- +hole treachery, is not a traitor to the Raj! I have read of generals +turning traitors! I have read about Napoleon; I know how his generals +behaved when the sand in his glass seemed run. I am for the Raj in +this and in any other hour! I refuse to obey or to accept apology! +Let the explanation be made me at court martial, with Colonel Kirby +sahib present to bear witness to my character!" + +"As you were!" + +The general's eyes met those of the Sikh officer, and neither could +have told then, or at any other time, what exactly it was that each +man recognized. + +"Ranjoor Singh, when I entered this house ten minutes ago I had no +notion I should find you here. I have served the same 'Salt' with +you, on the same campaigns. I even wear the same medals. In the same +house I am entitled to the same credit. + +"I am here on urgent business for the Raj, and you are here owing to +a grave mistake, which I admit and for which I tender you the most +sincere apology on behalf of the government, but which I can not +alter. I expected to find a trooper here, not necessarily of your +regiment, who should have been waylaid and tempted beyond any doubt +as to his trustworthiness. + +"I received a message that Yasmini had two absolutely honest men +ready, and I came at once to give them their instructions. I ask you +to sacrifice your pride, as we all of us must on occasion, and your +rights, as is a soldier's privilege, and see this business through to +a finish. It is too late to make other arrangements, Ranjoor Singh." + +"Sahib, squadron-leading is my trade! I am not cut out for rat-run +soldiering! I am willing to leave this house and hold my tongue, and +to take this trooper with me and see that he holds his tongue. By +nine tomorrow morning I will have satisfied myself that you are for +and not against the Raj. And having satisfied myself, I and this +trooper here will hold our tongues for ever. _Bass!_" + +The general stood as still on his square foot of floor as did +Ranjoor Singh on his. It was the fact that he did not flinch and did +not strut about, but stood in one spot with his arms behind him that +confirmed Ranjoor Singh in his reading of the general's eye. + +"You may leave the house, then, and take your trooper. I accept your +promise. Before you go, though, I'll tell you something. The ordering +of troops for the front--for France--is in my hands. Your regiment +is slated for to-morrow. But it can't go unless you'll see this +through. The whole regiment will be needed, instead, to mount guard +over Delhi." + +"The regiment is to go, sahib, and my squadron, and--and I not? I am +not to go?" + +"That is the sacrifice you are asked to make!" + +"Have I made no sacrifices for the Raj? How has my life been spent? +Sahib----" + +The Sikh's voice broke and he ceased speaking, but the general, too, +seemed at a loss for words. + +"Sahib--do I understand? If I do this--this rat-business, whatever +it is--Colonel Kirby and the regiment go, and another leads my +squadron? And unless I do this, whatever it is, the regiment will not +go?" + +The general nodded. He felt and looked ashamed. + +"Has war been declared, sahib?" + +"Yes. Germany has invaded Belgium." + +For a second the Sikh's eyes blazed, but the fire died down again. +He clasped his hands in front of him and hung his head. "I will do +this thing that I am asked to do," he said; but his words were +scarcely audible. His trooper came a step closer, to be nearer to him +in his minute of acutest agony. + +"Thou and I, Jagut Singh! We both stay behind!" + +"Now, Risaldar-Major, I want you to listen! You've promised like a +man," said the general. "I'll make you the best promise I can in +return. Mine's conditional, but it's none the less emphatic. If +possible, you shall catch your regiment before it puts to sea. If +that's impossible, you shall take passage on another ship and try to +overtake it. If that again is impossible, you shall follow your +regiment and be in France in time to lead your squadron. I think I +may say you are sure to be there before the regiment goes into +action. But, understand--I said, 'If possible!'" + +Ranjoor Singh's eye brightened and he straightened perceptibly. + +"This trooper, sahib----" + +"My promise is for him as well." + +"We accept, sahib! What is the duty?" + +"First, write a note to Colonel Kirby--I'll see that it's delivered-- +asking him to put your name in Orders as assigned to special duty. +Here's paper and a fountain pen." + +"Why should all this be secret from Colonel Kirby?" asked Ranjoor +Singh. "There is no wiser and no more loyal officer!" + +"Nor any officer more pugnacious on his juniors' account, I assure +you! I can't imagine his agreeing to the use I'm making of you. I've +no time to listen to his protests. Write, man, write!" + +"Give me the paper and the pen, sahib!" + +Ranjoor Singh wrote by the light of a flickering oil lamp, using his +trooper's shoulder for support. He passed the finished note back to +the general. + +"Now some token, please, Risaldar-Major, that Colonel Kirby will be +sure to recognize--something to prove that the note is not forged." + +Ranjoor Singh pulled a ring from his finger and held it out. + +"Colonel Kirby sahib gave me this," he said simply. + +"Thanks. Shake hands, will you? I've been talking to a man to-night-- +to two men--if I ever did in my life! I shall go now and give this +letter to somebody to deliver to Colonel Kirby, and I shall not see +you again probably until all this is over. Please do what Yasmini +directs until you hear from me or can see for yourself that your task +is finished. Depend on me to remember my promise!" + +Ranjoor Singh saluted, military-wise, although he was not in +uniform. The general answered his salute and left the room, to be met +by a maid, who took the note and the ring from him. Five minutes +later, with his rough disguise resumed, the general hunted about +among the shadows of the neighboring streets until he had found his +carriage. He recognized, but was not recognized by, the risaldar on +the box-seat of Colonel Kirby's shay. + + + Teeth of a wolf on a whitened bone, + What do the splinters say? + Scent of a sambur, up and gone, + Where will he stand at bay? + Sparks in the whirl of a hurrying wind. + Who was it laid the light? + Mischief, back of a woman's mind, + Why do the thoughtless fight? + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Black smoke still billowed upward from the gutted House-of-the-Eight- +Half-brothers, and although there were few stars visible, a watery +moon looked out from between dark cloudracks and showed up the smoke +above the Delhi roofs. Yasmini picked the right simile as usual. It +looked as if the biggest genie ever dreamed of must be hurrying out +of a fisherman's vase. + +"And who is the fisherman?" she laughed, for she is fond of that +sort of question that sets those near her thinking and disguises the +trend of her own thoughts as utterly as if she had not any. + +"The genie might be the spirit of war!" ventured a Baluchi, +forgetting the one God of his Koran in a sententious effort to please +Yasmini. + +She flashed a glance at him. + +"Or it might be the god of the Rekis," she suggested; and everybody +chuckled, because Baluchis do not relish reference to their lax +religious practise any more than they like to be called "desert +people." This man was a Rind Baluch of the Marri Hills, and proud of +it; but pride is not always an asset at Yasmini's. + +They--and the police would have dearly loved to know exactly who +"they" were--stood clustered in Yasmini's great, deep window that +overlooks her garden--the garden that can not be guessed at from the +street. There was not one of them who could have explained how they +came to assemble all on that side of the room; the movement had +seemed to evolve out of the infinite calculation that everybody takes +for granted, and Moslems particularly, since there seems nothing else +to do about it. + +It did not occur to anybody to credit Yasmini with the arrangement, +or with the suddenly aroused interest in smoke against the after- +midnight sky. Yet, when another man entered whose disguise was a joke +to any practised eye--and all in the room were practised--it looked +to the newcomer almost as if his reception had been ready staged. + +He was dressed as a Mohammedan gentleman. But his feet, when he +stood still, made nearly a right angle to each other, and his +shoulders had none of the grace that goes with good native breeding; +they were proud enough, but the pride had been drilled in and +cultivated. It sat square. And if a native gentleman had walked +through the streets as this man walked, all the small boys of the +bazaars would have followed him to learn what nation his might be. + +Yasmini seemed delighted with him. She ran toward him, curtsied to +him, and called him _bahadur_. She made two maids bring a chair +for him, and made them set it near the middle of the window whence he +could see the smoke, pushing the men away on either side until he had +a clear view. + +But he knew enough of the native mind, at all events, to look at the +smoke and not remark on it. It was so obvious that he was meant to +talk about the smoke, or to ask about it, that even a German +Orientalist understanding the East through German eyes had tact +enough to look in silence, and so to speak, "force trumps." + +And that again, of course, was exactly what Yasmini wanted. +Moreover, she surprised him by not leading trumps. + +"They are here," she said, with a side-wise glance at the more than +thirty men who crowded near the window. + +The German--and he made no pretense any longer of being anything but +German--sat sidewise with both hands on his knees to get a better +view of them. He scanned each face carefully, and each man +entertained a feeling that he had been analyzed and ticketed and +stood aside. + +"I have seen all these before," he said. "They are men of the North, +and good enough fighters, I have no doubt. But they are not what I +asked for. How many of these are trained soldiers? Which of these +could swing the allegiance of a single native regiment. It is time +now for proofs and deeds. The hour of talk is gone. Bring me a +soldier!" + +"These also say it is all talk, sahib--words, words, words! They say +they will wait until the fleet that has been spoken of comes to +bombard the coast. For the present there are none to rally round." + +"Yet you hinted at soldiers!" said the German. "You hinted at a +regiment ready to revolt!" + +"Aye, sahib! I have repeated what _these_ say. When the soldier +comes there shall be other talk! See yonder smoke, _bahadur?_" + +Now, then, it was time to notice things, and the German gazed over +the garden and Delhi walls and roofs at what looked very much more +important than it really was. It looked as if at least a street must +be on fire. + +"He made that holocaust, did the soldier!" + +Yasmini's manner was of blended awe and admiration. + +"He was suspected of disloyalty. He entered that house to make +arrangements for the mutiny of a whole regiment of Sikhs, who are not +willing to be sent to fight across the sea. He was followed to the +house, and so, since he would not be taken, he burned all the houses. +Such, a man is he who comes presently. Did the sahib hear the mob +roar when the flames burst out at evening? No? A pity! There were +many soldiers in the mob, and many thousand discontented people!" + +She went close to the window, to be between the German and the +light, and let him see her silhouetted in an attitude of hope +awakening. She gazed at the billowing smoke as if the hope of India +were embodied in it. + +"It was thus in 'fifty-seven," she said darkly. "Men began with +burnings!" + +Brown eyes, behind the German, exchanged glances, for the East is +chary of words when it does not understand. The German nodded, for he +had studied history and was sure he understood. + +"Sahib _hai_!" said a sudden woman's voice, and Yasmini started +as if taken by surprise. There were those in the room who knew that +when taken by surprise she never started; but they were not German. +"He is here!" she whispered; and the German showed that he felt a +crisis had arrived. He settled down to meet it like a soldier and a +man. + +"Salaam!" purred Yasmini in her silveriest voice, as Ranjoor Singh +strode down the middle of the room with the dignity the West may some +day learn. + +"See!" whispered Yasmini. "He trusts nobody. He brings his own guard +with him!" + +By the door at which he had entered stood a trooper of D Squadron, +Outram's Own, no longer in uniform, but dressed as a Sikh servant. +The man's arms were folded on his breast. The rigidity, straight +stature, and attitude appealed to the German as the sight of sea did +to the ancient Greeks. + +"Salaam!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +The German noticed that his eyes glowed, but the rest of him was all +calm dignity. + +"We have met before," said the German, rising. "You are the Sikh +with whom I spoke the other night--the Sikh officer--the squadron +leader!" + +_"Ja!"_ said Ranjoor Singh; and the one word startled the +German so that he caught his breath. + +_"Sie sprechen Deutsch?"_ + +_"Ja wohl!"_ + +The German muttered something half under his breath that may have +been meant for a compliment to Ranjoor Singh, but the risaldar-major +missed it, for he had stepped up to the nearest of the Northern +gentlemen and confronted him. There was a great show of looking in +each other's eyes and muttering under the breath some word and +counter-word. Each made a sign with his right hand, then with his +left, that the German could not see, and then Ranjoor Singh stepped +side wise to the next man. + +Man by man, slowly and with care, he looked each man present in the +eyes and tested him for the password, while Yasmini watched admiringly. + +"Any who do not know the word will die to-night!" she whispered; and +the German nodded, because it was evident that the Northerners were +quite afraid. He approved of that kind of discipline. + +"These are all true men--patriots," said Ranjoor Singh, walking back +to him. "Now say what you have to say." + +"_Jetzt_----" began the German. + +"Speak Hindustani that they all may understand," said Ranjoor Singh; +and the others gathered closer. + +"My friend, I am told----" + +But Yasmini broke in, bursting between Ranjoor Singh and the German. + +"Nay, let the sahibs go alone into the other room. Neither will +speak his mind freely before company--is it not so? Into the other +room, sahibs, while we wait here!" + +Ranjoor Singh bowed, and the German clicked his heels together. +Ranjoor Singh made a sign, but the German yielded precedence; so +Ranjoor Singh strode ahead, and the German followed him, wishing to +high Heaven he could learn to walk with such consummate grace. As +they disappeared through the jingling bead-curtain, the Sikh trooper +followed them, and took his stand again with folded arms by the door- +post. The German saw him, and smiled; he approved of that. + +Then Yasmini gathered her thirty curious Northerners together around +her and proceeded to entertain them while the plot grew nearer to its +climax in another room. She led them back to the divans by the inner +wall. She set them to smoking while she sang a song to them. She +parried their questions with dark hints and innuendoes that left them +more mystified than ever; yet no man would admit he could not +understand. + +And then she danced to them. She danced for an hour, to the wild +minor music that her women made, and she seemed to gather strength +and lightness as the night wore on. Near dawn the German and Ranjoor +Singh came out together, to find her yet dancing, and she ceased only +to pull the German aside and speak to him. + +"Does he _really_ speak German?" she whispered. + +"He? He has read Nietzsche and von Bernhardi in the German!" + +"Who are they?" + +"They are difficult to read--philosophers." + +"Has he satisfied you?" + +"He has promised that he will." + +"Then go before I send the rest away!" + +So the German tried to look like a Mohammedan again, and went below +to a waiting landau. Before he was half-way down the stairs Yasmini's +hands gripped tight on Ranjoor Singh's forearms and she had him +backed into a corner. + +"Ranjoor Singh, thou art no buffalo! I was wrong! Thou are a great +man, Ranjoor Singh!" + +She received no answer. + +"What hast thou promised him?" + +"To show him a mutinous regiment of Sikhs." + +"And what has he promised?" + +"To show me what we seek." + +She nodded. + +"Good!" she said. + +"So now I promise thee something," said Ranjoor Singh sternly. "To- +morrow--to-day--I shall eat black shame on thy account, for this is +thy doing. Later I will go to France. Later again, I will come back +and--" + +"And love me as they all do!" laughed Yasmini, pushing him away. + + + If I must lie, who love the truth, + (And honour bids me lie), + I'll tell a lordly lie forsooth + To be remembered by. + If I must cheat, whose fame is fair, + And fret my fame away, + I'll do worse than the devil dare + That men may rue the day! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Beyond question Yasmini is a craftsman of amazing skill, and her +genius--as does all true genius--extends to the almost infinite +consideration of small details. The medium in which she works--human +weakness--affords her unlimited opportunity; and she owns the trick, +that most great artists win, of not letting her general plan be known +before the climax. Neither friend nor enemy is ever quite sure which +is which until she solves the problem to the enemy's confusion. + +But Yasmini could have failed in this case through overmuch finesse. +She was not used to Germans, and could not realize until too late +that her compliance with this man's every demand only served to make +him more peremptory and more one-sided in his point of view. From a +mere agent, offering the almost unimaginable in return for mere +promises, he had grown already into a dictator, demanding action as a +prelude to reward. He had even threatened to cause her, Yasmini, to +be reported to the police unless she served his purpose better! + +If she had obeyed the general and had picked a trooper for the +business in hand, it is likely that Yasmini would have had to write a +failure to her account. She had come perilously near to obedience on +this occasion, and it had been nothing less than luck that put +Ranjoor Singh into her hands, luck being the pet name of India's +kindest god. Ranjoor Singh was needed in the instant when he came to +bring the German back to earth and a due sense of proportion. + +The Sikh had a rage in his heart that the German mistook for zeal +and native ferocity; his manners became so brusk under the stress of +it that they might almost have been Prussian, and, met with its own +reflection, that kind of insolence grows limp. + +Having agreed to lie, Ranjoor Singh lied with such audacity and so +much skill that it would have needed Yasmini to dare disbelieve him. + +The German sat in state near Yasmini's great window and received, +one after another, liars by the dozen from the hills where lies are +current coin. Some of them had listened to his lectures, and some had +learned of them at second hand; every man of them had received his +cue from Yasmini. There was too much unanimity among them; they +wanted too little and agreed too readily to what the German had to +say; he was growing almost suspicious toward half-past ten, when +Ranjoor Singh came in. + +There was no trooper behind him this time, for the man had been sent +to watch for the regiment's departure, and to pounce then on Bagh, +the charger, and take him away to safety. After the charger had been +groomed and fed and hidden, the trooper was to do what might be done +toward securing the risaldar-major's kit; but under no condition was +the kit to have precedence. + +"Groom him until he shines! Guard him until I call for him! Keep him +exercised!" was the three-fold order that sang through the trooper's +head and overcame astonishment in the hurry to obey. + +Now it was the German's turn to be astonished. Ranjoor Singh strode +in, dressed as a Sikh farmer, and frowned down Yasmini's instant +desire to poke fun at him. The German rose to salute him, and the +Sikh acknowledged the salute with a nod such as royalty might spare +for a menial. + +"Come!" he said curtly, and the German followed him out through the +door to the stair-head where so many mirrors were. There Ranjoor +Singh made quite a little play of making sure they were not +overheard, while the German studied his own Mohammedan disguise from +twenty different angles. + +"Too much finery!" growled Ranjoor Singh. "I will attend to that. +First, listen! Other than your talk, I have had no proof at all of +you! You are a spy!" + +"I am a--" + +"You are a spy! All the spies I ever met were liars from the ground +up! I am a patriot. I am working to save my country from a yoke that +is unbearable, and I _must_ deal in subterfuge and treachery if +I would win. But you are merely one who sows trouble. You are like +the little jackal--the dirty little jackal--who starts a fight +between two tigers so that he may fill his mean belly! Don't speak-- +listen!" + +The German's jaw had dropped, but not because words rushed to his +lips. He seemed at a loss for them. + +"You made me an offer, and I accepted it," continued Ranjoor Singh. +"I accepted it on behalf of India. I shall show you in about an hour +from now a native regiment--one of the very best native regiments, +so mutinous that its officers must lead it out of Delhi to a camp +where it will be less dangerous and less likely to corrupt others." + +The German nodded. He had asked no more. + +"Then, if you fail to fulfill your part," said Ranjoor Singh grimly, +"I shall lock you in the cellar of this house, where Yasmini keeps +her cobras!" + +_"Vorwarts!"_ laughed the German, for there was conviction in +every word the Sikh had said. "I will show you how a German keeps his +bargain!" + +"A German?" growled Ranjoor Singh. "A German--Germany is nothing to +me! If Germany can pick the bones I leave, what do I care? One does +not bargain with a spy, either; one pays his price, and throws him to +the cobras if he fail! Come!" + +The question of precedence no longer seemed to trouble Ranjoor +Singh; he turned his back without apology, and as the German followed +him down-stairs there came a giggle from behind the curtains. + +"Were we overheard?" he asked. + +But Ranjoor Singh did not seem to care any more, and did not trouble +to answer him. + +Outside the door was a bullock-cart, of the kind in which women make +long journeys, with a painted, covered super-structure. The German +followed Ranjoor Singh into it, and without any need for orders the +Sikh driver began to twist the bullocks' tails and send them along at +the pace all India loves. Then Ranjoor Singh began to pay attention +to the German's dress, pulling off his expensive turban and replacing +that and his clothes with cheaper, dirtier ones. + +"Why?" asked the German. + +"I will show you why," said Ranjoor Singh. + +Then they sat back, each against a side of the cart, squatting +native style. + +"This regiment that I will show you is mine," said Ranjoor Singh. "I +command a squadron of it--or, rather, did, until I became suspected. +Every man in the regiment is mine, and will follow me at a word. When +I give the word they will kill their English officers." + +He leaned his head out of the opening to spit; there seemed +something in his mouth that tasted nasty. + +"Why did they mutiny?" asked the German. + +"Ordered to France!" said Ranjoor Singh, with lowered eyes. + +For a while there was silence as the cart bumped through the muddy +rutty streets; the only sound that interfered with thought was the +driver's voice, apostrophizing the bullocks; and the abuse he poured +on them was so time-honored as to be unnoticeable, like the cawing of +the city crows. + +"It is strange," said the German, after a while. "For years I have +tried to get in touch with native officers. Here and there I have +found a Sepoy who would talk with me, but you are the first officer." +He was brown-studying, talking almost to himself. He did not see the +curse in the risaldar-major's eyes. + +"I have found plenty of merchants who would promise to finance +revolt, and plenty of hillmen who would promise anything. But all +said, 'We will do what the army does!' And I could not find in all +this time, among all those people, anybody to whom I dared show what +we--Germany--can do to help. I have seen from the first it was only +with the aid of the army that we could accomplish anything, yet the +army has been unapproachable. How is it that you have seemed so +loyal, all of you, until the minute of war?" + +Ranjoor Singh spat again through the opening with thoroughness and +great deliberation. Then he proceeded to give proof that, as Yasmini +had said, he was really not a buffalo at all. A fool would have taken +chances with any one of a dozen other explanations. Ranjoor Singh, +with an expression that faintly suggested Colonel Kirby, picked the +right, convincing one. + +"The English are not bad people," he said simply. "They have left +India better than they found it. They have been unselfish. They have +treated us soldiers fairly and honorably. We would not have revolted +had the opportunity not come, but we have long been waiting for the +opportunity. + +"We are not madmen--we are soldiers. We know the value of mere +words. We have kept our plans secret from the merchants and the +hillmen, knowing well that they would all follow our lead. If you +think that you, or Germany, have persuaded us, you are mistaken. You +could not persuade me, or any other true soldier, if you tried for +fifty years! + +"It is because we had decided on revolt already that I was willing +to listen to your offer of material assistance. We understand that +Germany expects to gain advantage from our revolt, but we can not +help that; that is incidental. As soldiers, we accept what aid we can +get from anywhere!" + +"So?" said the German. + +_"Ja!"_ said Ranjoor Singh. "And that is why, if you fail me, I +shall give you to Yasmini's cobras!" + +"You will admit," said the German, "when I have shown you, that +Germany's foresight has been long and shrewd. Your great chance of +success, my friend, like Germany's in this war, depends on a sudden, +swift, tremendous success at first; the rest will follow as a logical +corollary. It is the means of securing that first success that we +have been making ready for you for two years and more." + +"You should have credit for great secrecy," admitted Ranjoor Singh. +"Until a little while ago I had heard nothing of any German plans." + +"Russia got the blame for what little was guessed at!" laughed the +German. + +"Oh!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +A little before midday they reached the Ajmere Gate, and the +lumbering cart passed under it. At the farther side the driver +stopped his oxen without orders, and Ranjoor Singh stepped out, +looking quickly up and down the road. There were people about, but +none whom he chose to favor with a second glance. + +Close by the gate, almost under the shadow of it, and so drab and +dirty as to be almost unnoticeable, there was a little cotton-tented +booth, with a stock of lemonade and sweetmeats, that did interest +him. He looked three times at it, and at the third look a Mohammedan +wriggled out of it and walked away without a word. + +"Come!" commanded Ranjoor Singh, and the German got out of the cart, +looking not so very much unlike the poor Mohammedan who had gone away. + +"Get in there!" The German slipped into the real owner's place. So +far as appearances went, he was a very passable sweetmeat and +lemonade seller, and Ranjoor Singh proved competent to guard against +contingencies. + +He picked a long stick out of the gutter and took his stand near by, +frowning as he saw a carriage he suspected to be Yasmini's drive +under the gate and come to a stand at the roadside, fifty or sixty +yards away. + +"If the officers should recognize me," he growled to the German, +though seeming not to talk to him at all, "I should be arrested at +once, and shot later. But the men _will_ recognize me, and you +shall see what you shall see!" + +Three small boys came with a coin to spend, but Ranjoor Singh drove +them away with his long stick; they argued shrilly from a distance, +and one threw a stone at him, but finally they decided he was some +new sort of plain-clothes "constabeel," and went away. + +One after another, several natives came to make small purchases, +but, not being boys any longer, a gruff word was enough to send them +running. And then came the clatter of hoofs of the advance-guard, and +the German looked up to see a fire in Ranjoor Singh's eyes that a +caged tiger could not have outdone. + +All this while the bullock-cart in which they had come remained in +the middle of the road, its driver dozing dreamily on his seat and +the bullocks perfectly content to chew the cud. At the sound of the +hoofs behind him, the driver suddenly awoke and began to belabor and +kick his animals; he seemed oblivious of another cart that came +toward him, and of a third that hurried after him from underneath the +gate. + +In less than sixty seconds all three carts were neatly interlocked, +and their respective drivers were engaged in a war of words that +beggared Babel. + +The advance-guard halted and added words to the torrent. Colonel +Kirby caught up the advance-guard and halted, too. + +"Does he look like a man who commands a loyal regiment?" asked +Ranjoor Singh; and the German studied the bowed head and thoughtful +angle of a man who at that minute was regretting his good friend the +risaldar-major. + +"You will note that he looks chastened!" + +The German nodded. + +In his own good time Ranjoor Singh ran out and helped with that long +stick of his to straighten out the mess; then in thirty seconds the +wheels were unlocked again and the carts moving in a hurry to the +roadside. The advance-guard moved on, and Kirby followed. Then, troop +by troop, the whole of Outram's Own rode by, and the German began to +wonder. It seemed to him that the rest of the officers were not +demure enough, although he admitted to himself that the enigmatic +Eastern faces in the ranks might mean anything at all. He noted that +there was almost no talking, and he took that for a good sign for +Germany. + +D Squadron came last of all, and convinced him. They rode +regretfully, as men who missed their squadron leader, and who, in +spite of a message from him, would have better loved to see him +riding on their flank. + +But Ranjoor Singh stepped out into the road, and the right-end man +of the front four recognized him. Not a word was said that the German +could hear, but he could see the recognition run from rank to rank +and troop to troop, until the squadron knew to a man; he saw them +glance at Ranjoor Singh, and from him to one another, and ride on +with a new stiffening and a new air of "now we'll see what comes of +it!" + +It was as evident, to his practised eye, that they were glad to have +seen Ranjoor Singh, and looked forward to seeing him again very +shortly, as that they were in a mood for trouble, and he decided to +believe the whole of what the Sikh had said on the strength of the +obvious truth of part of it. + +"Watch now the supply train!" growled Ranjoor Singh, as the wagons +began to rumble by. + +The German had no means of knowing that the greater part of the +regiment's war provisions had gone away by train from a Delhi +station. The wagons that followed the regiment on the march were a +generous allowance for a regiment going into camp, but not more than +that. The spies whose duty it was to watch the railway sidings +reported to somebody else and not to him. + +Ranjoor Singh beckoned him after a while, and they came out into the +road, to stand between two of the bullock-wagons and gaze after the +regiment. The shuttered carriage that Ranjoor Singh had suspected to +be Yasmini's passed them again, and the man beside the driver said +something to Ranjoor Singh in an undertone, but the German did not +hear it; he was watching the colonel and another officer talking +together beside the road in the distance. The shuttered carriage +passed on, but stopped in the shadow of the gate. + +"Look!" said the German. "I thought that officer--the adjutant, +isn't he--recognized you. Now he is pointing you out to the colonel! +Look!" + +Ranjoor Singh did look, and he saw that Colonel Kirby was waiting to +let the regiment go by. He knew what was passing through Kirby's +mind, since it is given to some men, native and English, to have +faith in each other. And he knew that there was danger ahead of him +through which he might not come with his life, perhaps even with his +honor. He would have given, like Kirby, a full year's pay for a hand- +shake then, and have thought the pay well spent. + +Kirby began to canter back. + +"He has recognized you!" said the German. + +"And he is coming to cut me down!" swore Ranjoor Singh. + +He dragged the German back behind the nearest cart, and together +they ran for the gloom of the big gate, leaving the driver of the +bullock-cart standing at gaze where Ranjoor Singh had stood. The door +of the shuttered carriage flew open as they reached it, and Ranjoor +Singh pushed the German in. He stood a moment longer, with his foot +on the carriage step, watching Colonel Kirby; he watched him question +the bullock-cart driver. + +Then a voice that he recognized said, "Buffalo!" and he followed +into the carriage, shutting the door behind him. + +The carriage was off almost before the door slammed. + + * * * * * + +"Am I to be kept waiting for a week, while a Jat farmer gazes at +cattle on the road?" demanded Yasmini, sitting forward out of the +darkest corner of the carriage and throwing aside a veil. "He cares +nothing for thee!" she whispered. "Didst thou see the jasmine drop +into his lap from the gate? That was mine! Didst thou see him button +it into his tunic? So, Ranjoor Singh! That for thy colonel sahib! And +his head will smell of _my_ musk for a week to come! What--what +fools men are! _Jaldee, jaldee!"_ she called to the driver +through the shutters, and the man whipped up his pair. + +It was more than scandalous to be driven through Delhi streets in a +shuttered carriage with a native lady, and even the German's presence +scarcely modified the sensation; the German did not appreciate the +rarity of his privilege, for he was too busy staring through the +shutters at a world which tried its best to hide excitement; but +Ranjoor Singh was aware all the time of Yasmini's mischievous eyes +and of mirth that held her all but speechless. He knew that she would +make up tales about that ride, and would have told them to half of +India to his enduring shame before a year was out. + +"Are you satisfied?" she asked the German, after a long silence. + +"Of what?" asked the German. + +"That Ranjoor Singh sahib can do what he has promised." + +The German laughed. + +"I have an excuse for doing what I promised," he said, "if that is +what you mean." + +"That regiment," said Ranjoor Singh, since he had made up his mind +to lie thoroughly, "will camp a day's march out of Delhi. The men +will wait to hear from me for a day or two, but after that they will +mutiny and be done with it; the men are almost out of hand with +excitement." + +"You mean--" + +The German's eyebrows rose, and his light-blue eyes sought Ranjoor +Singh's. + +"I mean that now is the time to do your part, that I may continue +doing mine!" he answered. + +"What I have to offer would be of no use without the regiment to use +it," said the German. "Let the regiment mutiny, and I will lead you +and it at once to what I spoke of." + +"No," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"What then?" + +"It does not suit my plan, or my convenience, that there should be +any outbreak until I myself have knowledge of all my resources. When +everything is in my hand, I will strike hard and fast in my own good +time." + +"You seem to forget," said the German, "that the material aid I +offer is from Germany, and that therefore Germany has a right to +state the terms. Of course, I know there are the cobras, but I am not +afraid of them. Our stipulation is that there shall be at least a +show of fight before aid is given. If the cobras deal with me, and my +secret dies with me, there will be one German less and that is all. +That regiment I have seen looks ripe for mutiny." + +Ranjoor Singh drew breath slowly through set teeth. + +"Let it mutiny," said the German, "and I am ready with such material +assistance as will place Delhi at its mercy. Delhi is the key to +India!" + +"It shall mutiny to-night!" said Ranjoor Singh abruptly. + +The German stared hard at him, though not so hard as Yasmini; the +chief difference was that nobody could have told she was staring, +whereas the German gaped. + +"It shall mutiny to-night, and you shall be there! You shall lead us +then to this material aid you promise, and after that, if it all +turns out to be a lie, as I suspect, we will talk about cobras." + +For a minute, two minutes, three minutes, while the rubber tires +bumped along the road toward Yasmini's, the German sat in silence, +looking straight in front of him. + +"Order horses for him and me!" commanded Ranjoor Singh; and Yasmini +bowed obedience. + +"When will you start?" the German asked. + +"Now! In twenty minutes! We will follow the regiment and reach camp +soon after it." + +"I must speak first with my colleagues," said the German. + +"No!" growled the Sikh. + +"My secret information is that several regiments are ordered +oversea. Some of them will consent to go, my friend. We will do well +to wait until as many regiments as possible are on the water, and +then strike hard with the aid of such as have refused to go." + +The carriage drew up at Yasmini's front door, and a man jumped off +the box seat to open the carriage. + +"Say the rest inside!" she ordered. "Go into the house! Quickly!" + +So the German stepped out first, moving toward the door much too +spryly for the type of street merchant he was supposed to be. + +"Do you mean that?" whispered Yasmini, as she pushed past Ranjoor +Singh. "Do you mean to ride away with him and stage a mutiny? How can +you?" + +"She-buffalo!" he answered, with the first low laugh she had heard +from him since the game began. + +She ran into the house and all the way up the two steep flights of +stairs, laughing like a dozen peals of fairy bells. + +At the head of the stairs she began to sing, for she looked back and +saw babu Sita Ram waddling wheezily up-stairs after Ranjoor Singh and +the German. + +"The gods surely love Yasmini!" she told her maids. "Catch me that +babu and bottle him! Drive him into a room where I can speak with him +alone!" + +"Oh, my God, my God!" wailed the babu at the stair-head from amid a +maze of women who hustled and shoved him all one way, and that the +way he did not want to go. "I must speak with that German gentleman +who was giving lecture here--must positivelee give him warning, or +all his hopes will be blasted everlastinglee! No--that is room where +are cobras--I will not go there!" + +In three native languages, one after the other, he pleaded and +wailed to no good end; the women were too many for him. He was shoved +into a small room as a fat beast is driven into a slaughter-stall, +and a door was slammed shut on him. He screamed at an unexpected +voice from behind a curtain, and a moment later burst into a sweat +from reaction at the sight of Yasmini. + +"Listen, _babuji,_" she purred to him. + +"Who was that man asking for me?" demanded the German. + +"How should I know?" snorted Ranjoor Singh. "Are we to turn aside +for every fat babu that asks to speak to us? I have sent for horses." + +"I will speak with that man!" said the German. + +He began to walk up and down the length of the long room, pushing +aside the cushions irritably, and at one end knocking over a great +bowl of flowers. He did not appear conscious of his clumsiness, and +did not seem to see the maids who ran to mop up the water. At the +next turn down the room he pushed between them as if they had not +been there. Ranjoor Singh stood watching him, stroking a black beard +reflectively; he was perfectly sure that Yasmini would make the next +move, and was willing to wait for it. + +"The horses should be here in a few minutes," he said hopefully, +after a while, for he heard a door open. + +Then babu Sita Ram burst in, half running, and holding his great +stomach as he always did when in a hurry. + +"Oh, my God!" he wailed. "Quick! Where is German gentleman? And not +knowing German, how shall I make meaning clear? German should be +reckoned among dead languages and--Ah! My God, sir, you astonish me! +Resemblance to Mohammedan of no particular standing in community is +first class! How shall I--" + +"Say it in English!" said the German, blocking his way. + +"My God, sahib, it is bad news! How shall I avoid customaree stigma +attaching to bearer of ill tidings?" + +"Speak!" said the German. "I won't hurt you!" + +"Sahib, in pursuit unavailingly of chance emolument in neighborhood +of Chandni Chowk just recently--" + +"How recently?" the German asked. + +"Oh, my God! So recently that there are yet erections of cuticle all +down my back! Sahib, not more than twenty minutes have elapsed, and I +saw this with my own eyes!" + +"Saw what--where?" + +"Where? Have I not said where? My God, I am so upset as to be losing +sense of all proportion! Where? At German place of business--Sigelman +and Meyer--in small street leading out of Chandni Chowk. In search of +chance emolument, and finding none yet--finding none yet, sahib--sahib, +I am poor man, having wife and familee dependent and also many other +disabilitees, including wife's relatives." + +The German gave him some paper money impatiently. The babu unfolded +it, eyed the denomination with a spasm of relief, folded it again, +and appeared to stow it into his capacious stomach. + +"Sahib, while I was watching, police came up at double-quick march +and arrested everybodee, including all Germans in building. There was +much annoyance manifested when search did not reveal presence of one +other sahib. So I ran to give warning, being veree poor man and +without salaried employment." + +"What happened to the Germans?" + +"Jail, sahib! All have gone to jail! By this time they are all +excommunication, supplied with food and water by authorities. Having +once been jail official myself, I can testify--" + +"What happened to the office?" + +"Locked up, sahib! Big red seal--much sealing wax, and stamp of +police department, with notice regarding penalty for breaking same, +and also police sentry at door!" + +Looking more unlike a Mohammedan street vender than ever, the German +began to pace the room again with truly martial strides, frowning as +he sought through the recesses of his mind for the correct solution +of the problem. + +"Listen!" he said, coming to a stand in front of Ranjoor Singh. "I +have changed my mind!" + +"The horses are ready," answered Ranjoor Singh. + +"The German government has been to huge expense to provide aid of +the right kind, to be ready at the right minute. My sole business is +to see that the utmost use is made of it." + +"That also is my sole business!" vowed Ranjoor Singh. + +"You have heard that the police are after me?" + +Ranjoor Singh nodded. + +"Can you get away from here unseen--unknown to the police?" + +Ranjoor Singh nodded again, for he was very sure of Yasmini's +resource. + +Again the German began to pace the room, now with his hands behind +him, now with folded arms, now with his chin down to his breast, and +now with a high chin as he seemed on the verge of reaching some +determination. And then Yasmini began to loose the flood of her +resources, that Ranjoor Singh might make use of what he chose; she +was satisfied to leave the German in the Sikh's hands and to squander +aid at random. + +Men began to come in, one at a time. They would whisper to Ranjoor +Singh, and hurry out again. Some of them would whisper to Yasmini +over in the window, and she would give them mock messages to carry, +very seriously. Babu Sita Ram was stirred out of a meditative coma +and sent hurrying away, to come back after a little while and wring +his hands. He ran over to Yasmini. + +"It is awful!" he wailed. "Soon there will be no troops left with +which to quell Mohammedan uprising. All loyal troops are leaving, and +none but disloyal men are left behind. The government is mad, and I +am veree much afraid!" + +Yasmini quieted him, and Ranjoor Singh, pretending to be busy with +other messengers, noted the effect of the babu's wail on the German. +He judged the "change of mind" had gone far enough. + +"We should lose time by following my regiment," he said at last. +"There are now five more regiments ready to mutiny, and they will +come to me to wherever I send for them." + +The German's blue eyes gazed into the Sikh's brown ones very +shrewdly and very long. His hand sought the neighborhood of his hip, +and dwelt there a moment longer than the Sikh thought necessary. + +"I have decided we must hurry," he said. "I will show you what I +have to show. I will not be taking chances. You must bring a +messenger, and he must go for your mutineers while you stay there +with me. When we are there, you will be in my power until the +regiments come; and when they come I will surrender to you. Do you +agree?" + +"Yes," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"Then choose your messenger. Choose a man who will not try to play +tricks--a man who will not warn the authorities, because if there is +any slip, any trickery, I will undo in one second all that has been +done!" + +So Ranjoor Singh conferred with Yasmini over the two great bowls of +flowers that always stand in her big window; and she suppressed a +squeal of excitement while she watched the German resume his pacing +up and down. + +"Take Sita Ram!" she advised. + +Ranjoor Singh scowled at the babu. + +"That fat bellyful of fear!" he growled. "I would rather take a pig!" + +"All the same, take Sita Ram!" she advised. + +So the babu was roused again out of a comfortable snooze, and +Yasmini whispered to him something that frightened him so much that +he trembled like a man with palsy. + +"I am married man with children!" he expostulated. + +"I will be kind to your widow!" purred Yasmini. + +"I will not go!" vowed the babu. + +"Put him in the cobra room!" she commanded, and some maids came +closer to obey. + +"I will go!" said Sita Ram. "But, oh, my God, a man should receive +pecuniary recompense far greater than legendary ransom! I shall not +come back alive! I know I shall not come back alive!" + +"Who cares, _babuji?_" asked Yasmini. + +"True!" said Sita Ram. "This is land of devil-take-hindmost, and +with my big stomach I am often last. I am veree full of fear!" + +"We shall need food," interposed the German. "Water will be there, +but we had better have sufficient food with us for two nights." + +Yasmini gave a sharp order, and several of her maids ran out of the +room. Ten minutes later they returned with three baskets, and gave +one each to the German, to Ranjoor Singh, and to Sita Ram. Sita Ham +opened his and peered in. The German opened his, looked pleased, and +closed the lid again. Ranjoor Singh accepted his at its face value, +and did not open it. + +"May the memsahib never lack plenty from which to give!" he said, +for there is no word for "Thank you" in all India. + +"I will bless the memsahib at each mouthful!" said Sita Ram. + +"Truly a bellyful of blessings!" laughed Yasmini. + +Then they all went to the stair-head and watched and listened +through the open door while a closed carriage was driven away in a +great hurry. Three maids and six men came up-stairs one after +another, at intervals, to report the road all clear; the first +carriage had not been followed, and there was nobody watching; +another carriage waited. Babu Sita Ram was sent downstairs to get +into the waiting carriage and stay there on the lookout. + +"Now bring him better clothes!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +But Yasmini had anticipated that order. + +"They are in the carriage, on the seat," she said. + +So the German went down-stairs and climbed in beside the babu, +changing his turban at once for the better one that he found waiting +in there. + +"This performance is worth a rajah's ransom!" grumbled babu Sita +Ram. "Will sahib not put elbow in my belly, seeing same is highly +sensitive?" + +But the German laughed at him. + +"Love is rare, non-contagious sickness!" asserted Sita Ram with +conviction. + +At the head of the stairs Ranjoor Singh and Yasmini stood looking +into each other's eyes. He looked into pools of laughter and mystery +that told him nothing at all; she saw a man's heart glowing in his +brown ones. + +"It will be for you now," said Ranjoor Singh, "to act with speed and +all discretion. I don't know what we are going to see, although I +know it is artillery of some sort. I am sure he has a plan for +destroying every trace of whatever it is, and of himself and me, if +he suspects treachery. I know no more. I can only go ahead." + +"And trust me!" said Yasmini. + +The Sikh did not answer. + +"And trust me!" repeated Yasmini. "I will save you out of this, +Ranjoor Singh sahib, that we may fight our quarrel to a finish later +on. What would the world be without enemies? You will not find +artillery!" + +"How do you know?" + +"I have known for nearly two years what you will find there, my +friend! Only I have not known exactly where to find it. And yet +sometimes I have thought that I have known that, too! Go, Ranjoor +Singh. You will be in danger. Above all, do not try to force that +German's hand too far until I come with aid. It is better to talk +than fight, so long as the enemy is strongest!" + +"Woman!" swore Ranjoor Singh so savagely that she laughed straight +into his face. "If you suspect--if you can guess where we are going--send +men to surround the place and watch!" + +"Will a tiger walk into a watched lair?" she answered. "Go, talker! +Go and do things!" + +So, swearing and dissatisfied, Ranjoor Singh went down and climbed +on to the box seat of a two-horse carriage. + +"Which way?" he asked; and the German growled an answer through the +shutters. + +"Now straight on!" said the German, after fifteen minutes. "Straight +on out of Delhi!" + +They were headed south, and driving very slowly, for to have driven +fast would have been to draw attention to themselves. Ranjoor Singh +scarcely troubled to look about him, and Sita Ram fell into a doze, +in spite of his protestations of fear. The German was the only one of +the party who was at pains to keep a lookout, and he was most +exercised to know whether they were being followed; over and over +again he called on Ranjoor Singh to stop until a following carriage +should overtake them and pass on. + +So they were a very long time driving to Old Delhi, where the ruins +of old cities stand piled against one another in a tangled mass of +verdure that is hardly penetrable except where the tracks wind in and +out. The shadow of the Kutb Minar was long when they drove past it, +and it was dusk when the German shouted and Ranjoor Singh turned the +horses in between two age-old trees and drew rein at a shattered +temple door. + +Some monkeys loped away, chattering, and about a thousand parakeets +flew off, shrilling for another roost. But there was no other sign of +life. + +"Stable the horses in here!" said the German; and they did so, +Ranjoor Singh dipping water out of a rain-pool and filling a stone +trough that had once done duty as receptacle for gifts for a long- +forgotten god. Then they pushed the carriage under a tangle of +hanging branches. + +"Look about you!" advised the German, as he emptied food for the +horses on the temple floor; and babu Sita Ram made very careful note +of the temple bearings, while Ranjoor Singh and the German blocked +the old doorway with whatever they could find to keep night-prowlers +outside and the horses in. + +Then the German led the way into the dark, swinging a lantern that +he had unearthed from some recess. Babu Sita Ram walked second, +complaining audibly and shuddering at every shadow. Last came Ranjoor +Singh, grim, silent. And the rain beat down on all three of them +until they were drenched and numb, and their feet squelched in mud at +every step. + +For all the darkness, Ranjoor Singh made note of the fact that they +were following a wagon track, into which the wheels of a native cart +had sunk deep times without number. Only native ox-carts leave a +track like that. + +It must have been nine o'clock, and the babu was giving signs of +nearly complete exhaustion, when they passed beyond a ring of trees +into a clearing. They stood at the edge of the clearing in a shadow +for about ten minutes, while the German watched catwise for signs of +life. + +"It is now," he said, tapping Ranjoor Singh's chest, "that you begin +to be at my mercy. I assure you that the least disobedience on your +part will mean your instant death!" + +"Lead on!" growled Ranjoor Singh. + +"Do you recognize the place?" + +Ranjoor Singh peered through the rain in every direction. At each +corner of the clearing, north, south, east and west, he could dimly +see some sort of ruined arch, and there was another ruin in the center. + +"No," he said. + +"This is the oldest temple ruin anywhere near Delhi. On some +inscriptions it is called 'Temple of the Four Winds,' but the old +Hindu who lived in it before we bribed him to go away called it the +'Winds of the World.' It is known as 'Winds of the World' on the +books of the German War Office. I think it is really of Greek origin +myself, but I am not an Orientalist, and the text-books all say that +I am wrong." + +"Lead on!" said Ranjoor Singh; and the German led them, swinging his +lantern and seeming not at all afraid of being seen now. + +"We have taken steps quite often to make the people hereabouts +believe this temple haunted!" he said. "They avoid it at night as if +the devil lived here. If any of them see my lantern, they will not +stop running till they reach the sea!" + +They came to a ruin that was such an utter ruin that it looked as if +an earthquake must have shaken a temple to pieces to be disintegrated +by the weather; but Ranjoor Singh noticed that the cart-tracks wound +around the side of it, and when they came to a fairly large teak trap-door, +half hidden by creepers, he was not much surprised. + +"My God, gentlemen!" said Sita Ram. "That place is wet-weather +refuge for many million cobras! If I must die, I will prefer to +perish in rain, where wife and family may find me for proper funeral +rites. I will not go in there!" + +But the German raised the trap-door, and Ranjoor Singh took the +unhappy babu by the scruff of his fat neck. + +"In with you!" he ordered. + +And, chattering as if his teeth were castanets, the babu trod +gingerly down damp stone steps whose center had been worn into ruts +by countless feet. The German came last, and let the trap slam shut. + +"My God!" yelled the babu. "Let me go! I am family man!" + +"_Vorwarts_!" laughed the German, leading the way toward a teak +door set in a stone wall. + +They were in an ancient temple vault that seemed to have +miraculously escaped from the destruction that had overwhelmed the +whole upper part. Not a stone of it was out of place. It was wind and +water-tight, and the vaulted roof, that above was nothing better than +a mound of debris, from below looked nearly as perfect as when the +stones had first been fitted into place. + +The German produced a long key, opened the teak door, and stood +aside to let them pass. + +"No, no!" shuddered Sita Ram; but Ranjoor Singh pushed him through; +the German followed, and the door slammed shut as the trap had done. + +"And now, my friends, I will convince you!" said the German, holding +the lantern high. "What are those?" + +The light from the solitary lantern fell on rows and rows of bales, +arranged in neat straight lines, until away in the distance it +suggested endless other shadowy bales, whose outlines could be little +more than guessed at. They were in a vault so huge that Ranjoor Singh +made no attempt to estimate its size. + +"See this!" said the German, walking close to something on a wooden +stand, and he held the light above it. "In the office in Delhi that +the police have just sealed up there is a wireless apparatus very +much like this. This, that you see here, is a detonator. This is +fulminate of mercury. This is dynamite. With a touch of a certain key +in Delhi we could have blown up this vault at any minute of the past +two years, if we had thought it necessary to hide our tracks. A shot +from this pistol would have much the same effect," he added darkly. + +"But the bales?" asked Ranjoor Singh. "What is in the bales?" + +"Dynamite bombs, my friend! You native soldiers have no artillery, +and we have seen from the first the necessity of supplying a +substitute. By making full use of the element of surprise, these +bombs should serve your purpose. There are one million of them, +packed two hundred in a bale--much more useful than artillery in the +hands of untrained men! + +"Those look like bales of blankets. They are. Cotton blankets from +Muenchen-Gladbach. Only, the middle blankets have been omitted, and +the outer ones have served as a cushion to prevent accidental +discharge. They have been imported in small lots at a time, and +brought here four or five at a time in ox-carts from one or other of +the Delhi railway stations by men who are no longer in this part of +India--men who have been pensioned off." + +"How did you get them through the Customs?" wondered Ranjoor Singh. + +"Did you ever see a rabbit go into his hole?" the German asked. +"They were very small consignments, obviously of blankets. The duty +was paid without demur, and the price paid the Customs men was worth +their while. That part was easy!" + +"Of what size are the bombs?" asked Ranjoor Singh. + +"About the size of an orange. Come, I'll show you." + +He led him to an opened bale, and showed him two hundred of them +nestling like the eggs of some big bird. + +"My God!" moaned Sita Ram. "Are those dynamite? Sahibs--snakes are +better! Snakes can feel afraid, but those--ow! Let me go away!" + +"Let him go," said the German. "Let him take his message." + +"Go, then!" ordered Ranjoor Singh; and the German walked to the door +to let him out. + +"What is your message?" he asked. + +"To Yasmini first, for she is in touch with all of them," said Sita +Ram. "First I will go to Yasmini. Then she will come here to say the +regiments have started. First she will come alone; after her the +regiments." + +"She had better be alone!" said the German. "Go on, run! And don't +forget the way back? Wait! How will she know the way? How will you +describe it to her?" + +"She? Describe it to her? I will tell her 'The Winds of the World,' +and she will come straight." + +"How? How will she know?" + +"The priest who used to be here--whom you bribed to go away--he is +her night doorkeeper now!" said Sita Ram. "Yes, she will come veree +quickly!" + +The German let him out with an air mixed of surprise and disbelief, +and returned to Ranjoor Singh with far less iron in his stride, +though with no less determination. + +"Now we shall see!" he said, drawing an automatic pistol and cocking +it carefully. "This is not meant as a personal threat to you, so long +as we two are in here alone. It's in case of trickery from outside. I +shall blow this place sky-high if anything goes wrong. If the +regiments come, good! You shall have the bombs. If they don't come, +or if there's a trick played--click! Good-by! We'll argue the rest in +Heaven!" + +"Very well," said Ranjoor Singh; and, to show how little he felt +concerned, he drew his basket to him and began to eat. + +The German followed suit. Then Ranjoor Singh took most of his wet +clothes off and spread them upon the bales to dry. The German +imitated that too. + +"Go to sleep if you care to," said the German. "I shall stand +watch," he added, with a dry laugh. + +But if a Sikh soldier can not manage without sleep, there is nobody +on earth who can. Ranjoor Singh sat back against a bale, and the +watch resolved itself into a contest of endurance, with the end by no +means in sight. + +"How long should it take that man to reach her?" asked the German. + +"Who knows?" the Sikh answered. + +"Perhaps three hours, perhaps a week! She is never still, and there +are those five regiments to hold in readiness." + +"She is a wonderful woman," said the German. + +Ranjoor Singh grunted. + +"How is it that she has known of this place all this time, and yet +has never tried to meddle with us?" + +"I, too, am anxious to know that!" said Ranjoor Singh. + +"You are surly, my friend! You do not like this pistol? You take it +as an insult? Is that it?" + +"I am thinking of those regiments, and of these grenades, and of +what I mean to do," said Ranjoor Singh. + +"Let us talk it over." + +"No." + +"Please your self!" + +They sat facing each other for hour after dreary hour, leaning back +against bales and thinking each his own thoughts. After about four +hours of it, it occurred to the German to dismantle the wireless +detonator. + +"We should have been blown up if the police had grown inquisitive," +he said, with a shrug of his shoulders, returning to his seat. + +After that they sat still for four hours more, and then put their +clothes on, not that they were dry yet, but the German had grown +tired of comparing Ranjoor Singh's better physique with his own. He +put his clothes on to hide inferiority, and Ranjoor Singh followed +suit for the sake of manners. + +"What rank do you hold in your army at home?" asked Ranjoor Singh, +after an almost endless interval. + +"If I told you that, my friend, you would be surprised." + +"I think not," said Ranjoor Singh. "I think you are an officer who +was dismissed from the service." + +"What makes you think so?" + +"I am sure of it!" + +"What makes you sure?" + +"You are too well educated for a noncommissioned officer. If you had +not been dismissed from the service you would be on the fighting +strength, or else in the reserve and ready for the front in Europe. +And what army keeps spies of your type on its strength? Am I right?" + +But then came Yasmini, carrying her food-basket as the rest had +done. She knocked at the outer trap-door, and the German ran to peep +through a hidden window at her. Then he went up a partly ruined stair +and looked all around the clearing through gaps in the debris +overhead that had been glazed for protection's sake. Then he admitted +her. + +She ran in past him, ran past him again when he opened the second +door, and laughed at Ranjoor Singh. She seemed jubilant and very +little interested in the bombs that the German was at pains to +explain to her. She had to tell of five regiments on the way. + +"The first will be here in two or three hours" she asserted; "your +men, Ranjoor Singh--your Jat Sikhs that are ever first to mutiny!" + +She squealed delight as the Sikh's face flushed at the insult. + +"What is the cocked pistol for?" she asked the German. + +He told her, but she did not seem frightened in the least. She began +to sing, and her voice echoed strangely through the vault until she +herself seemed to grow hypnotized by it, and she began to sway, +pushing her basket away from her behind a bale near where the German +sat. + +"I will dance for you!" she said suddenly. + +She arose and produced a little wind instrument from among her +clothing--a little bell-mouthed wooden thing, with a voice like Scots +bagpipes. + +"Out of the way, Ranjoor Singh!" she ordered. "Sit yonder. I will +dance between you, so that the German sahib may watch both of us at +once!" + +So Ranjoor Singh went back twenty feet away, wondering at her mood +and wondering even more what trick she meant to play. He had reached +the conclusion, very reluctantly, that presently the German would +fire that pistol of his and end the careers of all three of them; so +he was thinking of the squadron on its way to France. In a way he was +sorry for Yasmini; but it was the squadron and Colonel Kirby that +drew his heart-strings. + +Swaying to and fro, from the waist upward, Yasmini began to play her +little instrument. The echoing vault became a solid sea of throbbing +noise, and as she played she increased her speed of movement, until +the German sat and gaped. He had seen her dance on many more than one +occasion. So had Ranjoor Singh. Never had either of them, or any +living man, seen Yasmini dance as she did that night. + +She was a storm. Her instrument was but an added touch of artistry +to heighten the suggestion. Prom a slow, rhythmic swing she went by +gusts and fits and starts to the wildest, utterly abandoned fury of a +hurricane, sweeping a wide circle with her gauzy dress; and at the +height of each elemental climax, in mid-whirl of some new amazing +figure, she would set her instrument to screaming, until the German +shouted "Bravo!" and Ranjoor Singh nodded grave approval. + +"_Kreuz blitzen!_" swore the German suddenly, leaping to his +feet and staggering. + +And Yasmini pounced on him. Ranjoor Singh could not see what had +happened, but he sprang to his feet and ran toward them. But before +he could reach them Yasmini had snatched the German's pistol and +tossed it to him, standing back from the writhing German, panting, +with blazing eyes, and looking too lovely to be human. She did not +speak. She looked. + +And Ranjoor Singh looked too. Under the writhing German, and back +again over him, there crawled a six-foot hooded cobra, seeming to +caress the carcass of his prey. + +"He will be dead in five--ten minutes," said Yasmini, "and then I +will catch my snake again! If you want to ask him questions you had +better hurry!" + +Then Ranjoor Singh recalled the offices that men had done for him +when he was wounded. He asked the German if he might send messages, +and to whom. But the dying man seemed to be speechless, and only +writhed. It was nearly a minute before Ranjoor Singh divined his +purpose, and pounced on the hand that lay underneath him. He wrenched +away another pistol only just in time. The snake crawled away, and +Yasmini coaxed it slowly back into its basket. + +"Now," she said, "when he is dead we will drive back to Delhi and +amuse ourselves! You shall run away to fight men you never quarreled +with, and I will govern India! Is that not so?" + +Ranjoor Singh did not answer her. He kept trying again and again to +get some message from the German to send perhaps to a friend in +Germany. But the man died speechless, and Ranjoor Singh could find no +scrap of paper on him or no mark that would give any clue to his +identity. + +"Come!" said Yasmini. "Lock the door on him. We will tell the +general sahib, and the general sahib will send some one to bury him. +Come!" + +"Not yet," said Ranjoor Singh. "Speak. When did you first know that +these Germans had taken this vault to use?" + +"More than two years ago," she boasted, "when the old priest, that +was no priest at all, came to me to be doorkeeper." + +"And when did you know that they were storing dynamite in here?" + +"I did not know." + +"Then, blankets?" + +"Bah! Two years ago, when a Customs clerk with too much money began +to make love to a maid of mine." + +"Then why did you not warn the government at once, and so save all +this trouble?" + +"Buffalo! Much fun that would have been! Ranjoor Singh, thy Jat +imagination does thee justice. Come, come and chase that regiment of +thine, and spill those stupid brains in France! Lock the door and +come away!" + + + Brother, a favor I came to crave, + Oh, more than brother, oh, more than friend! + Spare me a half o' thy soldier grave, + That I sleep with thee at the end! + Spur to spur, and knee to knee, + Brother, I'll ride to death with thee! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +The crew of the Messageries Maritimes steamship _Duc d'Orleans_ +will tell of a tall Sikh officer, with many medals on his breast, who +boarded their ship in Bombay with letters to the captain from a +British officer of such high rank as to procure him instant accession +to his request. Bound homeward from Singapore, the _Duc d'Orleans_ +had put into Bombay for coal, supplies and orders. She left with +orders for Marseilles, and on board her there went this same Sikh +officer, who, it seemed, had missed the transport on which his +regiment had sailed. + +He had with him a huge, ill-mannered charger, and one Sikh trooper +by way of servant. The charger tried to eat all that came near him, +including his horse-box, the ship's crew, and enough hay for at least +two ordinary horses. But Ranjoor Singh, who said very little to +anybody about anything, had a certain way with him, and men put up +with the charger's delinquencies for its owner's sake. + +When they reached the Red Sea, and the ship rolled less, Ranjoor +Singh and his trooper went to most extraordinary lengths to keep the +charger in condition. They took him out of his box and walked him +around the decks for hours at a time, taking turns at it until +officer, trooper and horse were tired out. + +They did the same all down the Mediterranean. And when they landed +at Marseilles the horse was fit, as he proved to his own brute +satisfaction by trying to kick the life out of a gendarme on the quay. + +Another letter from somebody very high, in authority to a French +general officer in Marseilles procured the instant supply of a horse +for the Sikh trooper and two passes on a northbound train. The +evening of their landing saw them on their way to the front, Ranjoor +Singh in a first-class compartment, and his man in the horse-box. +Neither knew any French to speak of, but the French were very kind to +these dark-skinned gentlemen who were in so much hurry to help them +win the war. + +It was dark--nearly pitch--dark at the journey's end. The moon shone +now and then through banks of black clouds, and showed long lines of +poplar trees. Beyond, in the distance, there was a zone in which +great flashes leaped and died--great savage streaks of fire of many +colors--and a thundering that did not cease at all. + +Along the road that ran between the poplars two men sent their +horses at a rousing clip, though not so fast as to tax them to the +utmost. The man in front rode a brute that lacked little of seventeen +hands and that fought for the bit as if he would like to eat the far +horizon. + +In the very, very dark zone, on the near side of where the splashes +of red fire fell, jingling bits and a kick now and then proclaimed +the presence of a regiment of cavalry. Nothing else betrayed them +until one was near enough to see the whites of men's eyes in the +dark, for they were native Indian cavalry, who know the last master- +touches of the art of being still. + +Between them and the very, very dark zone--which was what the +Frenchmen call a forest, and some other nations call a stand of +timber--a little group of officers sat talking in low tones, eight +Englishmen and the others Sikhs. + +"They say they're working round the edge--say they can't hold 'em. +It looks very much as if we're going to get our chance to-night. When +a red light flashes three times at this near corner of the woods, +we're to ride into 'em in line--it'll mean that our chaps are falling +back in a hurry, leaving lots of room between 'em and the wood for us +to ride through. Better join your men, you fellows! Oh, lord! What +wouldn't Ranjoor Singh have given to be here! What's that?" + +There came a challenge from the rear. Two horsemen cantered up. + +"Who are you? What d' you want?" + +"Sahib! Colonel Kirby sahib!" + +"What is it? Hallo--there are the three lights--no, two lights-- +that's 'Get ready!' Who are you? Why--Ranjoor Singh!" + +"Salaam, sahib!" + +"Shake hands. By gad--I'm glad! Find your squadron, Ranjoor Singh-- +find it at once, man--you're just in time. There go the three lights! +_Outram's Own!--in line of squadron columns to the right--Trot, +March! Right!"_ + +Ranjoor Singh had kept the word of babu Sita Ram, and had managed to +be with them when the first blood ran. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Winds of the World, by Talbot Mundy + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WINDS OF THE WORLD *** + +This file should be named wnwrl10.txt or wnwrl10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, wnwrl11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, wnwrl10a.txt + +Produced by Avinash Kothare, Tom Allen, Charles Franks +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team. + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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