by G. A. Henty
“For several reasons, sir. In the first place, because you have honoured me with your friendship; in the second, because I would fain save the people of Poona from the horrible barbarity with which they are now treated; and lastly, because the Government of Bombay would, I am sure, be glad to hear of your reinstatement, as the only means of restoring peace and tranquillity to the Deccan.”
“How will you open this matter to Scindia?”
“I have not fully thought that out, sir; but I have no doubt that I shall, in some way, be able to manage it, and intend to act upon his fears as well as upon his avarice.”
“But you say that Ghatgay is all powerful, and he would never permit an interview to take place between a stranger and Scindia.”
“From what I hear, sir, Scindia is becoming jealous of Ghatgay’s power, and disgusted both by his imperious manner and by his atrocities in Poona—against which he has several times protested, but in vain. If I am to obtain an audience with Scindia, it must be a secret one.”
“But there will surely be great danger in such a step?”
“Doubtless it will not be without danger,” Harry said, “but that I must risk. I have not yet determined upon my plan, as it would have been useless to think of that, until I had seen you but, as that has been managed so easily, I fancy that I shall have no great difficulty in getting at him. Once I do so, I feel certain that I shall be able to convince him that his best policy is to free you, and place you in your old position as the Peishwa’s minister as, in that case, you would be a check upon Bajee Rao, and would be able to prevent him from entering into alliances hostile to Scindia.”
“Well, Mr. Lindsay, you have given me such proofs, both of your intelligence and courage, that I feel sure that, if anyone can carry this through, you will be able to do so; and I need hardly say how deeply grateful I shall be, to you, for rescuing me from an imprisonment which seemed likely to terminate only with my life.”
“And now I had better go, sir,” Harry said. “It is as well that our conference should not be too long a one.”
“Well, goodbye, Mr. Lindsay! Even if nothing comes of all this, it will be pleasant for me to know that, at least, I have one faithful friend who was true to me, in my deepest adversity.”
Harry went to the door, and knocked. It was immediately opened by the officer who had conducted him there, and who had taken up his post a short distance from the door. He led Harry back to the governor, who pressed him to stay with him; but he replied that his orders were to return to Poona, instantly.
After this interview, he went direct to the tavern where the soldiers had put up, ate a hasty meal, and then mounted and rode out of the town. When ten miles away, he halted in a grove for some hours, and then rode on to Poona. Arrived within a mile of the town, he paid each of the men the amount promised, and told them to re-enter the town separately. Then he secured a room for himself in a small khan, just outside the city and, sitting there alone, worked out the plan of obtaining an interview with Scindia.
He then told Abdool to go quietly to the Residency, and to bring out the Brahmin’s dress he had before worn. In the morning, Abdool went out to Scindia’s camp with a letter which, when Scindia came out of his marquee, he handed to him. There was nothing unusual in this, for petitions were frequently presented in this way to rulers in India.
As he did so, he said in a low voice, “It is private and important, Your Highness;” and instead of handing it to one of his officers, Scindia went back to his tent to read it.
It stated that the writer, Kawerseen, an unworthy member of the Kshittree Brahmins, prayed for a private interview with His Highness, on matters of the most urgent import. Scindia thought for a moment and then, tearing up the piece of paper, went out and, as he passed Abdool, who was waiting at the entrance, said:
“Tell your master to be here at half-past ten, tonight. The sentry will have orders to admit him.”
Abdool returned at once to Harry, and delivered his message.
“That is good,” the latter said.
“You will take me with you, sahib?”
“Certainly, Abdool, if you are willing to go. There is some danger in it and, should Scindia give the alarm, you may be of great assistance, by cutting down the sentry before he can run in. Take your pistols and tulwar, and bring another sword for me. If I can once get out of the tent we shall be fairly safe for, in the darkness and confusion which will arise, we shall be able to make off quietly. We will ride there, and fasten our horses in that grove that lies about a quarter of a mile from the camp.”
At half-past nine they started, and reached Scindia’s tent at the time appointed. Harry’s belief that he would succeed was largely founded on the knowledge that Scindia was a weak young man, who had never been engaged in warfare, and was wanting in physical courage. An attendant was at the door, and led him to the prince’s private tent, which stood in the middle of an encampment composed of large tents; for the purpose of receptions and entertainments, for the abodes of the ladies of the zenana, and for the officers in whom Scindia reposed most confidence. The retinue of servants, attendants, and minor officials were lodged in tents fifty yards behind the royal encampment.
Scindia was sitting on a divan. Two lamps hung from the ceiling. He himself was smoking.
“You have something of importance to say to me?” he said, as Harry entered, and bowed deeply.
“I have, Your Highness. You are doubtless well aware that the Kshittree Brahmins, who formerly held the principal offices under your father, are greatly offended by the elevation of Ghatgay; and still more so by his atrocious deeds in the town of Poona. There has been a private meeting, and twelve of them, myself among the number, have sworn by the feet of Brahma to take your life, either by poison, dagger, or musket ball.”
“And you have the insolence to avow that you took such an oath!”
He sprang to his feet, and would have touched the bell on the table but, in an instant, Harry sprung forward with a loaded pistol, pointed at Scindia’s head.
“Stop, sir, I beg of you; for assuredly, if you raise a voice or touch a bell, that moment will be your last.”
Scindia sank down into his seat again. He had not the least doubt that the man before him would execute his threat.
“Your Highness,” he said, “I have not come here for the purpose of assassinating you. I was first on the list, but obtained from the others permission to endeavour to put an end to the present state of things, before carrying out our vow. We know that, in spite of the enormous sums that Ghatgay has raised in Poona, you yourself have not been enriched; and that you have been unable to persuade your troops to march, owing to your want of money to pay up their arrears. We have thought the matter over, and can see but one way by which you can obtain the necessary funds.”
“And that is?” Scindia asked.
“That is, Your Highness, to liberate Nana Furnuwees—setting his liberty, of course, at a high price. In this way you will not only be able to move your army, but you will cripple the power of the Peishwa—who would, if possible, overthrow you, now you have done his work and freed him from Nana.
“You are well aware, Prince, that Nana Furnuwees always exercised his authority on the side of peace, and there is no fear that he will permit Bajee Rao to engage in war against you. He is an old man, and useless to you as a prisoner. If you exacted a heavy sum from him it would, in all ways, aid your views.”
“But how do you know that Nana could raise such a sum as would satisfy the troops?”
“We have assured ourselves on that score, and I know that it matters not how much Nana Furnuwees will have to give. What I would suggest is that you shall seize Ghatgay, and rid yourself of his domination. He cannot but be as odious to you as he is to Bajee Rao, and to the people.”
Scindia sat for some time, in silence.
“Do I understand,” he said, “that if I carry out these suggestions, your comrades will be satisfied?”
“That I swea
r solemnly. I do not threaten Your Highness, for my visit today is one of conciliation. You might, as soon as I leave this tent, order me to be arrested. In that case I should use this pistol against myself, and you would seek in vain for the names of my eleven brethren; but your life would be forfeited—whether in the midst of your guards or in your tent, whether you ride or walk. You would be watched, and your servants would be bribed, and your food poisoned. If the first man fails, he will blow out his brains, and so will they all; but be assured that the vow will be kept and that, whether by night or by day, you will never be safe.”
“You are a bold man to speak so,” Scindia said.
“I speak so, Your Highness, because I am perfectly ready to die for the good of the country, and to secure for it peace and contentment.”
Scindia rose, and took two or three turns up and down the tent; Harry keeping his pistol in his hand, in readiness to fire should he attempt to slip away. At last, Scindia stopped before him.
“I agree to your conditions,” he said, “and the more readily because I shall, as you say, at once free myself from difficulties, and avenge myself on Bajee Rao; who is, I know, in spite of his professions of friendship, constantly plotting against me. Tomorrow at daybreak an officer shall ride, with a troop of cavalry, and shall bring Nana here.”
“You have chosen wisely, Prince. It is, believe me, your only way of escaping from your present difficulties. I know that, already, your soldiery are becoming mutinous at being thus kept, for months, away from their country, and receiving no pay. That feeling will grow rapidly, unless their demands are conceded. As to Ghatgay, the soldiers hold him in abhorrence, and his arrest and downfall would cause the most lively satisfaction among them. Your men are soldiers and not assassins, and the tortures and executions that daily take place fill them with horror; so that your order for his arrest will be executed with joy.
“Now, Your Highness, I will leave you. I believe that you will keep your promise, as indeed it is to your interest to do so; in which case you will never hear of myself, or my eleven companions.”
“Do not fear,” Scindia said, “tomorrow my messenger shall certainly start for Ahmednuggur.”
Harry, bowing deeply, turned, passed through the curtain, and made his way out of the tent. Abdool, who was squatting near the entrance, at once rose and followed him.
“Is all well, sahib?”
“I think so. I have so frightened Scindia that I have little doubt he will carry out the promise he has given me. I will tell you about it, when we get back.”
They passed through the sleeping camp, and mounted their horses in the grove, and rode to the Residency. Colonel Palmer was still up, engaged in writing a report for the Government. It was a dark night, and the sentry on duty, knowing Harry’s voice, let him pass without question, not even observing the change in his attire.
“What! Back again, Mr. Lindsay?” the colonel exclaimed, in surprise, when Harry entered. “I thought that it would be a month before you returned—that is, if you ever returned at all, and of this I had but little hope. As I expected, you have, of course, found it impossible to carry out your design.”
“On the contrary, sir, I have been, I hope, perfectly successful. I have seen Nana Furnuwees, and ascertained that he is ready to pay a large sum to obtain his freedom, and his former position as the Peishwa’s minister. I have seen Scindia. Tomorrow a troop of horse will start, to fetch Nana to his camp; and Ghatgay will be arrested as soon as possible, after he arrives.”
“How in the name of fortune have you managed all these things?” the colonel asked.
“I will tell you, sir, now that I am back here. I shall tomorrow reassume my uniform, and there is no danger of my being recognized, or of trouble arising from what I have done.”
He then related the various steps he had taken, and his conversations with Nana and Scindia.
“Upon my word, Mr. Lindsay, I do not know whether to admire most your daring, in bearding Scindia in the heart of his camp; or the intelligence with which you have carried out what seemed, to me, an absolutely impossible undertaking.
“Light your cheroot. I need not trouble about this report that I was engaged on, when you entered, but will put it by until the day after tomorrow, when we shall see whether Nana is brought to Scindia’s camp.
“You speak Hindustani as well as Mahratti, do you not?”
“Not so well, sir; but as you know I have, during the six months that I was at Bombay, and since I have been here, used most of my spare time working up Hindustani, with a moonshee.”
“I am glad to hear it, for I received a letter from the Governor, this morning, saying that Lord Mornington has requested him to send an officer, thoroughly acquainted with Mahratti and with some knowledge of the people; and that he has selected you for the service, as being by far better fitted than anyone he knows for the appointment. A knowledge of Hindustani will, of course, be very useful to you; but Mahratti is the principal thing, as he is intending to open negotiations with the Mahrattas, as well as with the Nizam, to induce them to join in concerted action against Tippoo.
“He says that no vessel will be sailing for Calcutta for less than a month, so you can stay here for a few days, and see how your scheme works out. It will be a great step for you, and ensure you rapid promotion.”
“I am indeed obliged to the Governor for selecting me,” Harry said, “and will do my best to justify his confidence.”
Two days later, Nana Furnuwees was brought to Scindia’s camp—news which caused Bajee Rao intense consternation. He at once sent off, to open negotiations with the Nizam for common action, offering a considerable amount of territory for his assistance.
Colonel Palmer rode over the next morning to Scindia’s camp, and found that Scindia had demanded three millions of rupees as the price of Nana’s release, and appointment as minister to the Peishwa. Nana had protested his absolute inability to raise anything like that sum, but had offered five hundred thousand rupees.
“I can quite believe that he could not pay the sum Scindia demands,” the colonel said, on his return; “and when Scindia sees that he would rather return to prison than attempt impossibilities, he will come down in his demands, and Nana will go up in his offer. It is a mere question of bargaining.”
When Scindia heard of the step that Bajee Rao had taken, he was greatly alarmed; for he could hardly hope to withstand the Nizam’s army, and that which Bajee himself could raise; and he therefore materially lowered his demands, and finally accepted Nana’s offer of nine hundred thousand rupees. This arrangement being made, he permitted Nana to leave the camp in order to raise the money; receiving his solemn oath that, if he failed to do so, he would return and render himself a prisoner again.
However, in a few days Nana sent in the money. Scindia fulfilled the other part of his promise, and insisted upon the Peishwa’s receiving Nana as his minister. A few days later he had Ghatgay arrested, by the sons of two of his European officers.
Scindia was, indeed, most anxious to be off. He did not know that the Nizam had refused Bajee Rao’s offer. He had received news of widespread disaffection among his troops at home, and felt that he could not rely upon those with him. As soon, therefore, as he received the money from Nana, he partially paid the arrears due to the soldiers. The sum, however, was altogether insufficient to satisfy the troops and, as Nana Furnuwees found that Bajee was still intriguing with Scindia for his overthrow, and that no rest could be hoped for until the latter’s army marched away, he advanced Scindia fifteen lakhs of rupees from his own private funds. The latter was then able to satisfy his troops.
Scindia accepted the money, but still remained in the neighbourhood of Poona.
These matters were not concluded until months after Harry left for Bombay. On arriving there he called upon the Governor, to report the release of Nana Furnuwees.
“I received Colonel Palmer’s last report, four days ago. He has given me full details of the manner in which you, on your o
wn initiative, brought about Nana’s release, and the approaching departure of Scindia; and I of course brought them before the Council, and they quite agreed with me as to the remarkable daring and ability with which you had carried out what Colonel Palmer believed to be an impossible scheme.
“I have pleasure in handing you your commission of captain, and only regret that we cannot break the rules of the service, by nominating you major. Tomorrow your name will be removed from the list of officers of the 3rd Regiment, and you will be appointed to the staff. You will have a week before you, to obtain the proper uniform. I shall not require you to perform any duties, and you will therefore have your time to yourself, till you sail. I shall, of course, forward my reasons for sending you to Lord Mornington, and shall give an account of the services that you have rendered; which will doubtless excite as much admiration in Calcutta as in Bombay.
“I shall be glad if you will dine with me, the day after tomorrow, when I shall ask the members of the Council to meet you.”
On leaving the Governor, Harry at once went to the shop of the Parsee merchant from whom he had obtained his regimentals, and ordered the various uniforms required for the staff. He then went to Soyera and, to his great satisfaction, found Sufder there. The latter’s troop was one of those which had been disbanded when, on the arrival of Scindia, Bajee Rao deemed it necessary to reduce his force; and Sufder, after staying for some time at Jooneer, had now come down to see his cousin.
“I am glad, indeed, to find you here, Sufder; in the first place, because it is always a pleasure to meet a good friend; and in the second, because you can take Soyera back with you, and place her with Ramdass.”
“But why should I leave here, Harry?”
“Because, mother, I am to start for Madras in three weeks; and may be, for aught I know, away for a year or more. Of course you can remain here if you prefer it, but it seems to me that the other would be the better plan.”
“I should certainly prefer to go with Sufder to my home,” Soyera said. “I have numbers of acquaintances here, but no real friends; and Ramdass and Anundee will, I know, joyfully receive me.”