The Sirdar's Oath Part 16

Tarleton, surgeon though he was, turned sick at the horrid sight, the more so that in all probability it presaged his own fate. The voice of Murad Afzul recalled him to this.

"You have seen, Feringhi. Now, that is thy fate, if my question is unanswered. Where is Raynier?"

Tarleton looked at the gus.h.i.+ng, headless corpse, then at the stern, uncompromising countenance of the chief. He noted, too, the eager, cruel visages of those around, who seemed to hang upon his answer. Life was as good to him as to anybody else, nor did he feel the least inclination to part with it at that moment. Besides, what would become of his wife, now lying unconscious in the tent behind him, if left alone and at the mercy of these ruthless barbarians? Haslam was dead, and thus no one need ever know, for no one was left to witness against him, and if ever there was a case of "every man for himself" this was surely it. So he replied,--

"He has gone to visit Sarbaland Khan."

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

"BETTER THAN NOTHING."

"What has happened?" said Hilda, quickly, gazing from one to the other, and then at the dead man who lay a little way off.

"Our camp has been rushed by Ghazis, and they are in possession."

"But--has there been a fight? Have they killed anybody?"

"They had killed some of the servants when that poor fellow broke away to warn us. He was one of Mehrab Khan's tribesmen. But our people were alive, he says."

"But we can't leave them, Mr Raynier."

"That is not spoken with your usual sense. Are we going to walk straight into the jaws of the enemy and say, 'Here we are'? No. I am responsible for your safety, Miss Clive, and you may be sure I shall do the uttermost in my power to secure it."

Even while he had been speaking his mind had rapidly reviewed the situation, and it was one that filled him with the gravest misgiving and concern. He knew that a _jihad_, or fanatical rising, was being fomented among the tribes further along the border, but that the Gularzai could by any possibility take part in it he had reckoned as clean out of the question. He had trusted Mus.h.i.+m Khan thoroughly, had reckoned the Nawab as no more likely to take up arms against the Government than he himself. But that a bold outrage on a large scale could thus take place here right under the nose of the Nawab without the knowledge and therefore sanction of that potentate, he could not believe. What a fool he had been, and how utterly blind not to have seen some sign or warning of the dangerous unrest having spread. Well, this was no time for regrets, but for action--and to this end he would consult Mehrab Khan.

But what then? Would the Baluchi be true to his salt? All these border tribes were akin. Ties of friends.h.i.+p, of grat.i.tude, of honour, of self-interest even, all were swept aside when they made common cause together against the Feringhi and the infidel--and the acquaintance between himself and Mehrab Khan was of the shortest.

But the latter, even at that moment, was giving some indication of what line he was going to take in the crisis. For the other Levy Sowar had been gradually edging away. These two Feringhis would soon be found and cut to pieces, _Sirkar_ or not, argued this man, and he had no intention of identifying himself with them any further, and thus sharing their fate; wherefore he resolved, while there was yet time, to effect his own escape. But Mehrab Khan, who knew the workings of his mind, was equally resolved that he should not.

To this end Mehrab Khan dismounted, and levelling his rifle called upon him to stop. The result of this order was to cause the defaulter to ram his spurs into his horse's flanks, and start off along the hillside at a gallop. Now Mehrab Khan was an old and practised stalker of markhor and wild sheep, consequently now, when, without further warning, he pressed the trigger, the runaway toppled heavily from his saddle, and lay without a kick.

"He would have betrayed us, _Huzoor_," said the Baluchi, laconically, as he slipped a fresh cartridge into his piece. "Now he will not."

To Raynier's plan of returning straight to Sarbaland Khan's village, and not only placing themselves under the protection of that chief, but even ordering him, by virtue of his own office as representative of the Government, to collect a strong force and safeguard those in the camp, if any were left there, or pursue the aggressors if they were not, Mehrab Khan was strongly opposed. He was somewhat mysterious on the point; mysterious but emphatic. On no account must they go there, indeed, he had been glad to get out of the place when they were there before.

Was Sarbaland Khan disaffected then? That he could not say exactly.

But the _Huzoor_ must trust him. He had seen signs which might have meant much or little. By the light of what had happened he now knew they meant much. The _Huzoor_ knew his people, and he, Mehrab Khan, knew his. The gist of all of which was that they must go at once into hiding, and the sooner the better.

All this, however, took far quicker to decide than it has taken to narrate, and now, Mehrab Khan taking the lead, they moved, under his guidance, down into the valley, turning their backs on the site of the camp altogether.

"I shall never forgive myself for getting you into this fix, Miss Clive," said Raynier, with great concern, as he thought on the hards.h.i.+ps the coming night would entail upon her, even if it were not the first of many such nights.

"There is no necessity for you to do anything of the sort," she answered. "You could not help it. You could not have foreseen things."

"But that is just what I ought to have done," he answered bitterly. "I have simply acted like a fool, and have made an utter mess of the whole situation."

"No--no. I am sure you have not. Things may not be so bad as you think--and if they are, you are not to blame."

What was this? He looked at her strangely. There was not so much in the words--but the tone, the soothing sympathy of it, as if she realised, even as he did, that, apart from their imminent and common danger, the result for him would be something like official ruin. The colour had returned to her face--for she had gone rather white as she witnessed Mehrab Khan's grimly successful shot--and there was a look in her eyes which, combined with the tone of her voice, went far to compensate for all. It struck him, too, that she showed no alarm, no anxiety whatever on her own account. Afterwards it was to occur to him how easily she was rea.s.sured as to the safety of those they had left in the camp.

Darker and darker it grew, as they threaded their way behind their guide through those lonely defiles, for now the sky was black and overcast, and a lurid flash or two lit their way--and the accompanying boom rolled, deep voiced, among the cliffs and chasms.

"Here we should halt, Mehrab Khan," said Raynier, at last, as two or three great drops splashed down upon them. "The Miss Sahib will get wet through if we go further, and here under this rock is shelter."

But the Baluchi shook his head.

"See there, _Huzoor_," pointing upward.

"We are in a sort of _tangi_, only it is closed at one end. If it should rain here, and rain hard, the water would roll off the smooth rock slopes above, and sweep us out of this like wisps of dried gra.s.s.

We cannot rest here. We must go on and upward."

The horses were needing rest badly, yet on they struggled. It was quite dark now, but their way was lit by the red flashes. Rain had begun to fall, hard, heavy rain, as, stumbling over the slippery stones, they held on their wet and weary way. And through it all Raynier did not fail to notice that from the girl at his side there came no word of complaint, no sigh of weariness--whereat he marvelled.

He himself was feeling the strain: but with him the strain was as much a mental as a physical one. He felt weighed down with responsibility. If this rising took large and destructive proportions he it was who should have foreseen and coped with it, yet he had gone off, easily and carelessly, upon a pleasure trip, and that right into the heart of the very peril itself. And now the safety of this girl beside him was in his hands; and by way of a beginning to the adventure she would have to spend the livelong night, wet and cold and hungry, lying out among the rocks, for, of course, they had not taken a food supply when starting upon an afternoon ride. And what a contrast it was. The highest official of the district, with, but a few hours ago, servants and armed sowars at his beck and call, surrounded by every comfort and not a few luxuries, was now a fugitive in the heart of a hostile land, soaked by a drenching rain, with no prospect of either food or shelter at the end of it all. It was a contrast, but he was hard and could worry through it-- but what of his companion in adversity? She was not inured to rude hards.h.i.+ps of this kind. She was not even representative of the stalwart type of her s.e.x, who could scull a boat or play golf all day. She was high couraged and cool of nerve; he had seen enough to convince him of that, yet, physically, she did not look altogether strong. But still no word of complaint escaped her as, stumbling onward and upward through the darkness and the rain, they held on their way.

"Here we will rest, _Huzoor_," said Mehrab Khan at last.

They must be among the mountain tops now, Raynier reckoned. The air blew raw and piercing, and tall slimy rocks glistened around in the red glare of the now more distant lightning. Dismounting, with stiffened limbs, he aided Hilda Clive from her saddle. To his surprise she slid off as lightly as though returning from an ordinary ride.

"I believe you are more tired than I am," she said, with something like a laugh, as she let her hand rest just a moment in his after he had a.s.sisted her down. "Tell me. Did you ever have fever?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Only you are very wet. Shall we be able to make a fire?"

"I'm afraid not. There's nothing to make it with."

"That's a pity. You ought to get dry. Let me think it out."

Raynier marvelled, and well he might. What sort of a woman was this?

Any other woman who had ever come within his experience would not have behaved like this. She would probably have begun by abusing him roundly for ever bringing her into such a hobble at all. Once in it, she would have grumbled and whined, or hysterically howled. She would have been full of herself and her own miserable plight, and what _she_ should do, and what would become of _her_, and so forth. But this one--her chief thought seemed to be for him. She didn't seem to think of herself at all.

"Great Heavens, Miss Clive!" he burst forth, "what does it matter whether _I_ am dry or wet. It is of you I am thinking--of you, who have to get through this abominable night somehow. Why, it is nothing to me--but what about you?"

"But I have never had fever."

The answer came so equably, so matter-of-fact in tone, yet Raynier's quick ear thought to detect something further. He turned straightway and began vehemently haranguing Mehrab Khan.

The place to which the latter had brought them afforded shelter from the rain, though little or none from the piercing wind. A great slab of rock overhung, yawning outward like an open mouth. Now Mehrab Khan astonished them still further, for, from a cleft at the back of the hole, he produced some billets of dry juniper wood. It would burn wretchedly, he explained apologetically, but was better than nothing.

The place had been an old resort of mountain herdsmen, and the wood had been kept ready stored for emergencies. And then, still further amazement followed, for Mehrab Khan produced--this time from his own store--a little rice and corn meal tied up in a rag. Would the _Huzoor_ deign to accept it for himself and the Miss Sahib? he said. It was poor fare, but it might be better than nothing.

This, then, was the man for whose good faith he had feared, thought Raynier, inwardly ashamed, and then again came the whimsical thought of contrast, and the highest official in the district becoming dependent on the Levy Sowar's humble store, yet not for himself. But Hilda Clive looked at it, then beamed on the giver.

"What will he do?" she asked. "It is all he has."

"What then? Let the Miss Sahib take what Allah provides through His slave and praise Him. More can be provided, and will be," was the answer of the follower of the Prophet to the follower of the Redeemer.