The Path to Honour

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The Path to Honour Page 6

by Sydney C. Grier


  CHAPTER VI.

  THE CROWNING PROOF.

  To put on the Rajah's robe over his clothes, and don the turban andslippers, was the work of a moment for Gerrard, and he was ready beforePartab Singh had even raised himself from his cushions. The spirit ofadventure had laid hold of the young man, and the hint of perilsuggested by his host's last words was thrilling his blood, but he wassufficiently master of himself to insist upon uttering one more warning.

  "Your Highness will believe that I appreciate to the full theconfidence you are prepared to repose in me, but I must remind you thatoutside Granthistan I am merely a junior officer in the Company's army.If it should unfortunately happen that the guardianship of KharrakSingh and of the state devolved upon Colonel Antony by yourarrangement, it is almost certain that he would make choice of an olderman to represent him and act as regent."

  "So that the army might rise against him in a week, and having slainhim and Kharrak Singh and his mother, invade British territory andbring about a second Granthi war?" asked Partab Singh drily. "I havemade my choice of a regent, O my friend, and by reason of the power Ishall put into his hands, he will be the only man that Antni Sahib canchoose."

  Recollections of Colonel Antony's heroic disregard of commonplacesafeguards in various outstanding cases made Gerrard persist. "ColonelAntony will choose the man he thinks best fitted for the post, as inthe sight of God, Maharaj-ji, and it will be my duty to acquiesce inhis decision."

  "So be it," said the Rajah, with resignation. "Only swear to me thatyou will not betray the secret I am about to disclose to you to anyliving being, man or woman, priest or ruler, save to my son KharrakSingh when he is of age and seated on the _gaddi_."

  "Does it concern the state, Maharaj-ji?"

  "The state might continue to endure were the secret lost, but on itdepends the safety of Kharrak Singh and the existence of my house. Atpresent I alone know it."

  "But if any evil should befall your Highness and myself, the secretwill be lost. Suffer me to reveal it to Colonel Antony, who will holdit sacred, and not permit the knowledge of it to influence his action."

  "Nay, that were beyond the power of mortal man!" cried Partab Singh."To Antni Sahib least of all must the secret be revealed. But this itis permitted you to do. Choose out an honourable man, lower thanyourself in rank--or at least not likely to be preferred before you byyour masters--and confide the secret to him under the conditions onwhich I reveal it to you. Let him be one that you can trust asyourself."

  "Bob, of course!" said Gerrard in his own mind, with humorous dismay."It is well, Maharaj-ji. I choose my friend the officer in charge ofDarwan," he added aloud.

  "And he is near at hand? It is well. Reveal the secret to him as soonas may be. I have your promise?"

  "To keep your Highness's secret? Yes. But anything further mustdepend upon the will of my superiors."

  "That I understand. Come, my friend."

  They went down the spiral marble staircase of the tower, the Rajahleading, and passed the guards at the foot without a word. Gerrardnoticed that they did not leave the tower by the carved marble gatewaythrough which they had entered, but by a smaller door at the back,which gave access to a shaded terrace looking over the great tank. Inthe shadows a boat was waiting, with one man in it, leaning on a longpole, and when the Rajah and Gerrard had stepped in, this man puntedthem out into the starlight in perfect silence, and across the lakeinto a kind of backwater, covered thick with the flat leaves of thelotus, in an opposite corner. Gerrard expected to see the boat heldfast among the twining roots, but it was evident that a channel waskept clear, for they slid through without difficulty. The boatmanhelped them to shore, still in silence, and Partab Singh touched hisown ears and mouth lightly, explaining to Gerrard that the man was deafand dumb, as he brought a lantern from the boat and preceded themthrough a thicket of bamboos and similar plants. The place suggestedsnakes, and Gerrard trod with caution, wondering what the great wall infront, over which the sound of clanking chains came faintly, mightenclose. A small door was disclosed by the boatman's moving aside thebushes, and the Rajah brought out a key from his girdle, and taking thelantern from the man's hand, waved him back to the boat. The openingof the door disclosed only darkness, but the sound of the clanking ofchains grew louder, mixed with growls and wild cries.

  "Smells like a wild beast show!" mused Gerrard. "Where can we becoming to?"

  Even as he spoke, the Rajah, who had shut the door, advanced a fewsteps and waved the lantern round, and the flickering light, with thechorus of snarls that arose, showed the Englishman that they were in apassage leading to the bottom of the great pit in which the palacemenagerie was kept. He had often looked over the parapet at the top,generally in Kharrak Singh's company, and had the fighting animalspointed out to him, and been promised a grand display if he was presenton the boy's next birthday, but now he was descending into the arena,with fierce eyes glaring at the intruders from all the surroundingcages.

  "If only old Bob were here now!" he thought, as Partab Singh crossedthe sanded space, and began deliberately to unfasten the gate of one ofthe largest cages.

  "Enter, my friend, and fear not!" said the old man, in a tone in whichGerrard detected a design upon the nerves. The darkness was notreassuring, but he stepped in, to be aware immediately of a huge bodyhurling itself at him through the air, with an awe-inspiring roar. Awicked snarl from behind him at the same moment warned him againststepping back, and he braced himself unconsciously to meet the impact.But the animal, whatever it was, fell short of him in its spring, andto his utter bewilderment he stood unharmed.

  "They scent the stranger," said Partab Singh, turning the lantern toshow first the huge lioness, almost black in colour, which had betrayedher presence by snarling, and then her mate, looking indescribablysulky and wounded in his self-esteem owing to the failure of his leap."The gate is open; does my friend wish to return?"

  It is no discredit to Gerrard that he was obliged to pull himselftogether before he could reply with suitable unconcern, "Is this thesecret, then, Maharaj-ji? If not, let us go on," and the Rajah smiledgrimly.

  "Keep to the middle of the den, then," he said, as he fastened thegate. "The beasts are chained, and cannot touch you there."

  That the honour of the Rajah's friendship was not without its drawbackswas a fact that had already forced itself upon Gerrard's mind thatevening, and he now began to wonder whether its value was altogethercorrespondent to the severe tests it seemed to demand. The lions mightbe chained, but their chains were quite unnecessarily long, and theywalked about in a highly disquieting manner while the Rajah was busy atthe back of the den. Gerrard held the lantern, and hoped ferventlythat his hand did not shake--he was too much shaken himself to knowwhether it did or not. In the rear wall of the cage were several ironrings fixed to staples, to which chains might be attached, and throughone of these Partab Singh passed his sheathed dagger, and gave it asharp twist. Then, removing the dagger, he began to turn the ring theother way with his hands. When he had done this apparently aninterminable number of times, Gerrard ventured to ask if he might help.An angry gesture of negation answered him, and he resigned himself towait, while the lions strained at their chains. At last a great stonemoved out like a door, and the Rajah entered, and motioned Gerrard tofollow. Closing the door with a movement of his finger, he turned tohis companion.

  "The ring must be turned nine-and-twenty times, no more and no less,"he said. "If you turn it less, no effect will follow, but if more, agreat stone descends and blocks the entrance."

  He led the way along a passage lined with masonry, which turned andtwisted bewilderingly. At one point there was a deep recess,apparently intended for a window, but unfinished. Partab Singhmotioned Gerrard to place his eye at a particular spot. There was ahole there, and to his surprise light came through. He looked into agreat room or vault in which a lamp was burning. The rays fell uponelephant-trappings glittering with gold, jewelled bridles ands
addlecloths, robes of gold tissue or priceless shawl-fabric, and anumber of gaily painted boxes, such as the native goldsmiths used tocontain their wares, and money-changers their stock of cash.

  "That is the treasury of which all men know, the entrance to which isin the zenana," said the Rajah. "But though that were looted, and anarmy glutted with the spoil, the greater treasure beyond would remainsafe and unknown."

  Again he went on, until another stone moved on the pressure of a secretspring, the action of which he explained to Gerrard, and gave entranceto a small unlighted vault, piled with gold in ingots, bars and bricks,and in one corner a heap of tiny skin bags containing, as he pointedout, fine pearls and other precious stones. That the value of what wasstored here must far exceed the more obvious wealth assembled in thelarger treasury, Gerrard saw at a glance.

  "You see now, O my friend, my secret store," said Partab Singh, "and byits means you may secure my son's succeeding me in peace. When I amdead, give large presents immediately in his name to all my Sirdars andKomadans, at the same time distributing a largess of ten rupees per manto the army. For this there is sufficient silver in the othertreasury, but you will do well to assemble the money-changers andbargain with them to supply you with rupees against a portion of thisgold. The tale of the riches at your command will go abroad, and thearmy will remain faithful in the hope of receiving more. Without it--Ido not deceive myself--they would sell their swords to the highestbidder in the state or outside it, and it will also be necessary to useit with discretion, lest their minds should be so much inflamed by thethought of it that they should combine to seize and plunder the palace.They would never discover the hiding-place, but my son and his motherwould meet with violence in the search. My friend sees, then, that Ilook to him to act with as much wisdom as courage, and he understandswhy I name him regent, since the only power that can keep my son on thethrone is in his hands."

  "Pardon the question, Maharaj-ji, but is not he who must not be namedacquainted with this treasury?" asked Gerrard suddenly.

  "Doubtless rumour has made him aware of its existence, but where it ishe knows no more than the talkers in the city who swear by their lord'streasure. You and I are the sole living beings who know the secret."

  Gerrard remembered a certain grim tale he had heard, according to whichevery man who had taken part in the construction of the treasury hadbeen put to death on the completion of the work, and the piled goldbefore him became hateful. "Is there any other entrance to thislabyrinth, Maharaj-ji?" he asked abruptly.

  "Surely, my friend. The passage continues until it reaches the oldouter wall of the palace, and there ends with another turning stone,concealed from those without by a tree that has struck its roots intothe masonry."

  "But if that tree should be destroyed, the entrance would becomevisible."

  "It must not be destroyed. You must see to that, as I have done. Igave large gifts to a fakir of great sanctity to declare that a spirithad taken up his abode in the tree, and must on no account bedisturbed, though the people might bring offerings and venerate it frombelow. Should it fall, or be thrown down by a storm, you must at onceplant a seedling or a shoot from it in the same place, sheltering thetender plant by mats let down from the top of the wall until it hasgrown sufficiently to conceal the stone. And now let us return. Stay!my friend has refused all the gifts that I would fain have heaped uponhim, until I offer him no more in the sight of men for fear of courtingfurther rebuffs. Here no man sees us. Will he then take with him oneof these bags of pearls, such as any prince might desire in vain tobuy, and any queen might wear? What! I have offended him again? Sayno more, my friend; your ways are not as ours. Even to my friend Iwill not offer twice what he is too proud to take. But come, for thereis more to be done to-night."

  Gerrard rather wished it was not so as they retraced their stepsthrough the long passage and the lions' den back to the quiet gardenand the lotus-covered tank. The deaf and dumb man was waiting, andferried them over, and on the terrace below the tower the Rajah badeGerrard leave the turban and robe he had been wearing, which he didthankfully, for the night was hot. Then, as he stood erect in hiswhite mess uniform in the moonlight, the old man laid his hands uponhis shoulders.

  "O my friend, I have tried you with gold and with fear and with thelust of power, and you have stood the test. Now I am about to reposesuch confidence in you as hardly one man of your race has known sincethe world began. You will come with me into the zenana, that themother of Kharrak Singh may know whom she is to trust. This I do now,that when I am dead, you may demand admittance as by right--the right Iconfer upon you--and talk with her through the curtain, thus avoidingthe danger and delay of go-betweens."

  Gerrard had felt a lurking fear more than once that this crowning proofof confidence was to be conferred upon him, but had silenced hisuneasiness by reminding himself that such a thing was almost unheardof. One or two of those orientalised Europeans to whom the Rajah hadreferred earlier in the evening had enjoyed the honour, as had one ortwo British officials held in almost divine veneration, but otherwiseit had been the supreme mark of favour reserved by a ruler for his mosttried, trusted, and faithful servants. It was a sensible thing to doin the circumstances, as Partab Singh had manoeuvred them, he owned,but the idea shocked him almost as much as it would have done a native.It was so incongruous.

  "If Bob gets wind of this, I shall be chaffed to death!" he said tohimself, and then realised that the Rajah was waiting for a reply fromhim. "I appreciate deeply this proof of your Highness's confidence,and trust I may show myself worthy of it," he said formally, and PartabSingh linked his arm in his and drew him along.

  They went through the tower, across the courtyard, and up the stepsinto the hall of audience, passing thence through rooms and corridorstill they reached a barred gate, guarded by soldiers, whose weaponsclashed angrily as they perceived Gerrard. The Rajah made a sign,never loosing his hold on the young man's arm for a moment, and thegates were opened from within by zenana attendants, the guards standingrigidly with their backs to them. Inside, Gerrard knew enough of theetiquette of the occasion to walk with his eyes cast down, and obeyevery motion of the Rajah's arm, but he was aware that the darknessseemed to be full of eyes, and the silence of whispers. They came to astandstill at last before a pillared colonnade, with a crimson curtainhanging behind the pillars. No light came from behind the curtain, andGerrard realised suddenly that he distinguished its colour by means ofa light behind him. At a word from the Rajah, two old women cameforward with flaring lamps, and stationed themselves one on each sideof Gerrard, so as to throw his face into the clearest possible relief.Then Partab Singh spoke.

  "Let the mother of Kharrak Singh look well upon this Sahib, that shemay know whom to trust. I have given him freedom of entrance here,that he may speak with her through the curtain, and she may takecounsel with him for the welfare of her son."

  There was a moment's pause, and then a muffled voice made an inaudiblereply from somewhere behind the curtain, apparently close to theground. The Rajah turned to Gerrard.

  "The mother of Kharrak Singh clasps the feet of Jirad Sahib, andentreats that in the evil day his virtue may be a high tower in whichshe and her son can take refuge."

  Gerrard sought vainly for a suitably self-deprecatory reply, but theRajah was equal to the occasion, and rendered his disjointed murmursinto a polite desire that he might serve as a sturdy elephant to carrythe Rani and her son over a flooded river. The voice spoke again, andPartab Singh turned to Gerrard.

  "Is my friend yet wedded?" Gerrard shook his head. "Then the motherof Kharrak Singh desires to be informed when he brings home a wife,that she may send the bride her clothes and jewels."

  In response to this very high honour Gerrard could only bow low, andpromise to send the desired information when the time came, and thenthe appearance of the inevitable attar and pan in the hands of thicklyveiled women of apparently most discreet age announced the terminationof the interview. Pa
rtab Singh maintained his hold on Gerrard's armuntil they had returned to the hall of audience, and then detailed anescort to guard him back to his own quarters. It was a most dissipatedhour to return home, but when Gerrard mounted to the roof, where hisbed was spread, he felt no inclination for sleep, and stood leaning onthe parapet, thinking over the events of the evening. It must be hisfirst care to find out what attitude Colonel Antony would adopt towardsthe arrangement desired by Partab Singh, since the workings of theResident's mind were by no means easy to forecast. If he could meetthe Rajah face to face and hear his story, Gerrard was inclined tothink he might acquiesce. True, the addition of another infant heirand female regent to his burden of cares would not be agreeable to him,but the Rajput lady of royal ancestry would be a very different personto deal with from the low-born little upstart who kept the palace andcity of Ranjitgarh agog with her stormy and transitory love affairs.Still, if Sher Singh should have the brilliant inspiration of seekingan interview with Colonel Antony, and having learnt a lesson from hisprevious failure, present himself merely as a disinherited innocent ofpacific tendencies, it was quite likely that he would establish in theResident's mind a prepossession in his favour which would tell heavilyagainst little Kharrak Singh. Gerrard found himself planning theletter in which he would describe the state of affairs, placing thingsin their proper perspective and omitting no detail of importance, notputting himself forward, and yet not concealing his readiness to acceptthe post of Resident at Agpur if it should be thought fit to offer ithim. Both in importance and responsibility it would be consideredquite unsuitable for so young a man, he knew; but after all, PartabSingh had chosen him, and given him unsolicited two aids to successwhich were not, and could not be, in the power of any other man onearth.

  Gerrard lost himself in dreams. This miniature palace, shelteredwithin the fort walls, yet standing by itself in its own garden, remotefrom the rambling pile of buildings occupied by Partab Singh and hiscourt, would make an ideal Residency. Not for a solitary man, ofcourse, but the Resident at Agpur could well afford to marry. Gazingdown into the inner courtyard he saw it in the light of a shrine forHonour. Honour walked up and down the flagged paths in her white gown,Honour sat on the broad stone margin of the fountain and raised seriouseyes from her book at his approach--and her whole face lighted up witha flash of welcome to him, such a flash as he had caught in LadyCinnamond's eyes when Sir Arthur returned unexpectedly from a distantexpedition. What blissful evenings they would spend on that broadpillared verandah, Honour working and he reading to her, or bothtogether reading, writing, talking, as Colonel and Mrs Antony were wontto do, two minds working as one, so quickly and naturally did eachsupply the deficiencies of the other.

  He pulled himself up sharply. Not so very many miles away was anotherman dreaming similar dreams--and yet not similar, since the charms ofhistory and poetry and romance held no place in them. Gerrard himselfmight have pleaded guilty to the charge of allowing no opening for thecultivation of the good works which meant so much to Honour, but hewould probably have defended himself with the not uncommon maxim of hisday that looking after a husband was sufficient good works for anywoman. But Bob Charteris--who was utterly incapable of appreciatingthe real Honour, who had no idea of her absolute uniqueness, and mighthave fallen in love with any other woman with equal satisfaction tohimself! Bob--who could make a joke of his love and even laugh at hislady, who would probably not mind smoking while he thought about her!(In those days the smoker was largely considered as a pariah, if not anenemy of the human race. Gerrard himself smoked, but he was properlyconscious that it was a weakness, and not an amiable one, and nothingwould have induced him to set himself to think of Honour with a cherootin his mouth.) It was Bob's rivalry that had driven him to put hisfortune to the touch by proposing to Honour when patience would betterhave served his turn, and it was Bob to whose pleasure, by his ownsuggestion, he must defer before speaking to her again, were he tentimes Resident at Agpur. Worst of all, it was Bob who was only toolikely to win her in the end, and not undeservedly, Gerrard knew hisfriend's good points as few others did, and he did not deceive himselfas to his chances of success. At this point he broke off his musingsabruptly, and went to bed. Bob was not only superfluous, but apositive nuisance.

 

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