The Path to Honour Part 23

The Rani's reception of Mr Antony's messenger was much what he had expected. She had taken up her abode in a half-ruined fort, which had been repaired sufficiently for the purposes of defence, and was garrisoned by a second company of Rajputs, and Gerrard was refused admission at the closed gates. His urgent messages brought the old scribe down to parley with him, but the reproaches he addressed to the Rani for neglecting the monitions of her husband's chosen councillor were met by counter-upbraidings on the score of his neglect of the Rani's own expressed wish to be left unmolested. She would not receive him, she would not disband her troops nor retire into British territory, and least of all would she sign the doc.u.ment which was to obtain from Sher Singh the payment of her jointure in return for her promise to leave to him any savings of which she might die possessed.

In these circ.u.mstances, all that Gerrard could do was to leave the paper for her consideration, with the most persuasive letter that he and Muns.h.i.+ Somwar Mal could frame in collaboration, and announce that he hoped to find her Highness in a better mind when he returned in three or four days' time.

If his reception here was disappointing, there was nothing lacking in the warmth of Charteris's welcome when he landed at his camp from the undignified conveyance of a charpoy supported on _mashaks_[1]--a small fleet of these vessels being in readiness to carry him and his train across the river. The puppies were duly exhibited after supper, and Gerrard made his choice, and then, though it was still early, for the crossing had to be made by daylight, Charteris dismissed him to sleep off his fatigues, promising that he should be called well in the middle of the night.

"To-morrow is a blank day as far as the administration of justice is concerned," he said. "I have threatened all my pet.i.tioners with atrocious pains and penalties if they so much as show their noses in camp, and you and I will go for a picnic. I know a bank where the wild thyme don't grow, but where one of my reformed robbers has a garden and a spring of sweet water, and will make us welcome to enjoy _kaf_[2] for a while."

Gerrard had his doubts as to the feasibility of this programme when he was dressing the next morning by the light of a candle-end stuck into the neck of a bottle. A whisper outside the tent reached his ears.

"Brother, is the Sahib awake?"

"Which Sahib, O foolish one?"

"Our Sahib, the red Sahib, the mad Sahib."

"Aye, he is awake, but he rides forth before dawn."

"Bad for Bob!" thought Gerrard, as a rustle denoted the withdrawal of the questioner, but he had not the heart to tell his friend of his fears when they met for _choti haziri_, and he saw his high spirits.

"We'll take the dogs with us a little way--do the beggars no end of good--and send 'em back to camp before the sun's up," said Charteris, as they mounted. "'Give the hounds a trot out by way of exercise'--eh?"

"Well, I hope it won't end in 'Dinner lost! 'ounds lost! self lost--all lost together!' What d'ye think of calling the hunt, old boy?"

"The Cut-'em-downs, if you're going to ride over my hounds," said Charteris, as a heedless puppy blundered in front of Gerrard's horse.

"And call you Crasher."

"All right, Brusher!" laughed Gerrard, as they rode out into the cool darkness, an anxious dog-boy having extricated his charge. But before they reached the outskirts of the camp, the way was barred by a row of silent natives, some of them holding out papers, others extending empty hands.

"What's this?" demanded Charteris ferociously.

"_Dohai_, sahib, _dohai_[3]!" was the general cry.

"Well, I'll do you justice to-morrow, as I told you. Didn't I forbid you to come to me to-day?"

"Alas, sahib, a day is but as a moment to the great, but to the poor it is even as eternity," said an old man, who seemed to be regarded as spokesman.

"It would be a different tale if I wanted you to do anything for me in a hurry," growled Charteris. "What do you say, Hal?"

"Oh, you have spoilt your subjects by dealing out justice too easily,"

said Gerrard, "so you can't in conscience refuse it them now. Let us have our ride, and go back at your usual hour. The picnic must go.

You can accommodate me with a seat on the bench, and I'll pick holes in your law."

"That you may well do." Charteris paused to give the necessary directions to the suppliants and his Muns.h.i.+s, and resumed as they rode on. "My law has too much common-sense about it to recommend itself to your conventional mind. Why, t'other day I had to decide the owners.h.i.+p of a disputed piece of ground--as hard swearing as ever I heard, and trains of mounted adherents and sympathisers riding with us to view the plot, and perjuring themselves for their respective sides. I saw it was six of one and half-a-dozen of t'other, so when we were returning, precious slow and stately, I gave a sudden view-halloa! and started off. They were bound to come too, and I should have died of laughing to see those old liars b.u.mping along and running foul of one another if I hadn't been too busy. I had the claimants one on each side of me, and by judiciously boring either quad. when it seemed inclined to draw ahead, I kept 'em fairly level. When they had had as much as I thought good for them, I pulled up, and several old codgers went over their nags' heads, of course. But all I said was that as the claimants had come in level, it was clear the land was to be divided between them, and we went back and did it there and then. They had a shawl apiece to sweeten the bargain, and I made a feast for the hangers-on, so everybody was pleased."

"That's the sort of thing that makes them call you the mad sahib," said Gerrard. "Wonder they care to depend on you."

"That's only because you forget that 'mad' don't mean the same to them as to us. All Sahibs are mad, of course--and say that I am a little madder than most. But all mad people are directly inspired by Heaven.

Therefore the madder I am, the more surely am I inspired. Twig?"

"It's a pretty deduction. I wonder if Sadiq Ali would set me down as inspired if I stood on my head before him when I go back?"

"No, because you couldn't do it!" said Charteris wickedly. "Takes some practice even to be effectively mad, my boy."

Whereupon Gerrard rode at him with upraised whip, and sensible conversation was at a discount until they returned to camp. Then the long hot morning was devoted to hearing pet.i.tions and trying cases.

Charteris and Gerrard sat in one of the tents, with the complainants under the awning before them, and the Muns.h.i.+s on the ground at the side, while the witnesses perjured themselves and contradicted each other with equal gusto. In the course of the proceedings a panting messenger pushed his way through the throng carrying a red official bag, the colour showing that the letter it contained was urgent.

Charteris opened it, and it seemed to Gerrard that his tanned face paled ever so little as he read. Then he looked up sharply at the messenger, whose eyes were fixed eagerly upon him.

"Sit down in the corner there, and wait until this case is finished,"

he said. "Hal, I daresay you will like to look at this." He pa.s.sed the letter lightly to Gerrard, but gave his fingers a warning grip under cover of the paper.

[1] Inflated skins.

[2] Perfect leisure.

[3] Justice!

CHAPTER XVII.

THE ISSUES OF AN AWFUL MOMENT.

The letter was written roughly in pencil on a large sheet of rough and discoloured paper:--

"To Lieutenant Robert Charteris, at Dera Gauleeb Khan or wherever he may be.

"MY DEAR CHARTERIS,--I am sorry to say that the fat's in the fire at last. This morning the Rajah invited us to go out with him to his garden-house, but did not send an elephant for us, as we expected.

However, we rode to meet him, with a small escort. Honestly, I cannot tell whether he is to blame for what happened, or not, but at the beginning it certainly looked like an accident. There was a certain amount of confusion when we met on the way to the city gate, and the respective escorts found some difficulty in clearing a path through the crowds. Suddenly a wild fanatic of some sort--an Akaulee I should say--dashed at me from behind with a sword, and fairly knocked me off my horse. I have a cut on the head, but my hat turned the blade.

There was a horrid tumult, and soldiers and people were pressed this way and that, forcing Cowper away from me. I got two or three more blows as I lay on the ground, but one of our hors.e.m.e.n dragged me to my feet. I saw that Sher Sing's hotties had turned tail and were in full retreat, but it did not occur to me he was leaving us to our fate until his hors.e.m.e.n charged back through the crowd and made straight for Cowper. He was cut down in an instant, and I saw them hacking at him before I could rally the escort. When we got through to him things looked pretty bad, for the hors.e.m.e.n withdrew only to come down on us afresh, and the crowd were siding with them, while all sorts of missiles began to rain from the roofs. Then old Sudda Sookhee turned up and threw himself into the breach--ordered the troops back, harangued the mob, and took us up on his own hotty. He thought it unsafe for us to go back to the Residency, in which I quite agreed with him, in view of the att.i.tude of Sher Sing and his guards, so I decided that we should throw ourselves into the tomb of Rutton Sing outside the walls, and hold it till a.s.sistance arrived. Without Sudda Sookhee's support we could never have got through the gate, and as it was, they fired at us with matchlocks from the walls. He took us straight to the tomb, and then hurried back to see how things were going at the Residency. Before noon we were joined by the rest of our escort, who had been turned out of the fort without ceremony, but allowed to march through the city unmolested. The native apothecary has done his best for poor Cowper and me. My hurts are merely scratches, but he is badly cut about, though quite cheerful. I need not ask you to relieve us as soon as possible, as you will know that Rutton Sing's tomb is not a first-rate position for defence. I have sent a warm remonstrance to the Rajah, demanding that he shall visit us in person and express his regret for the outrage, but I repeat frankly that I do not understand his att.i.tude. Still, you will see the importance of keeping a stiff upper lip. Cowper begs that Mrs Cowper may not be alarmed about him, as he expects (he says) to be up and about again before you turn up.

We rely on you to arrive with all convenient speed. It is possible that the situation is more serious than appears.--Very sincerely yours,

RICHD. NISBET."

Gerrard read the letter through, turning the paper this way and that to find the carefully numbered additions written in the margin or crossing the sheet. Poor Nisbet! how thoroughly he must have been thrown off his balance before he would consent to send off a rough draft like this instead of making a fair copy--such was his first involuntary reflection. Then his mind awakened suddenly to a realisation of the perilous plight of the two men and their escort. Ratan Singh's tomb!

it was the very tomb in the grove, within sight of the walls of Agpur, where he himself had purposed to make a hopeless stand over Rajah Partab Singh's dead body, in defence of Partab Singh's wife and son, and where Charteris had appeared in the nick of time to save him. The place could not be held, there was no hope of that, even if it were properly provisioned, and the letter was dated two days ago. If Sher Singh were indeed a traitor--and his conduct would need a good deal of explanation if it was to be ascribed to mere cowardice--Nisbet and Cowper's position was more than serious, it was desperate. And there sat Charteris, listening with knitted brows to the lucubrations of the witnesses in this dispute over stolen cattle, pulling them up sharply when their flights of imagination became more than usually daring, and apparently oblivious alike of the disappointed messenger squatting in the corner and of the men relying upon him outside Agpur. Gerrard's breath came faster, and he wondered whether he could frame a plausible excuse for getting out of the tent and starting immediately on his return journey to Habs.h.i.+abad. If Charteris was at a loss what to do, Sadiq Ali and the Rani would joyfully send every fighting man they possessed to deal a blow at Sher Singh. Suddenly Charteris turned round.

"You are precious bored by all this, I can see," he said casually.

"Never mind; it will soon be over now. Take a cigar," and as he held out the case, his fingers again met Gerrard's with that warning pressure. His friend accepted the cheroot, and resigned himself to further waiting. It was not for long. Charteris's brief summing-up was masterly, so incisive, so searching, so constantly punctuated with popular proverbs and familiar references to the domestic affairs of the litigants, that it drew applause from both sides. Then he p.r.o.nounced judgment, and the winning side rent the air with their shouts, while the losing party threw dust on their heads and lamented that they had ever been born. They went off peacefully enough, however, and fraternised with their late opponents over a sheep sent out to them by Charteris, while the two Englishmen, alone at last, faced one another in the hot shade of the tent.

"Bob, I don't think you realise how bad it is," said Gerrard hurriedly.

"They can't hold out in Ratan Singh's tomb if they are attacked with anything like vigour. We have lost too much time already."

"Steady, old boy. No harm done. There's no starting until just before sunset, unless you think sunstroke all round would improve the efficiency of the relieving force. We have all afternoon for making arrangements."

"But we have wasted a full hour when we might have been laying our plans."