CHAPTER XI.
MURDER MOST FOUL.
However unwelcome might be the presence of Gerrard and his force, SherSingh could not, for very shame's sake, show his feelings, and a hostof servants came down from the fort to point out the bestcamping-ground, and to bring the _rasad_, or free rations, necessarilyprovided for guests. It was evidently hoped, however, that Gerrardmight change his mind after a night's rest for in the morning the fakirappeared again with fresh entreaties that he would depart, and not addto the Prince's self-reproach the burden of feeling that he wasdetaining him here. Gerrard replied by another demand for a personalinterview, which was refused in horror, the fakir declaring that threedays and nights of mental agony had reduced Sher Singh to such a wreckthat it was unendurable to him to be seen until he had recovered alittle. Gerrard offered suitable condolences, remarked that the soonerthe Prince recovered the sooner would he himself be able to depart, andas a fairly clear sign of his intentions, devoted some hours to theimprovement of his camp, to the ill-concealed disgust of his soldiers,who thought themselves entitled to a long rest after the hardships ofthe march. In the evening Charteris rode in, lean and tanned to aneven deeper pink than before, attended by a new bodyguard he wasraising from among his reformed robbers, who looked by no meansreformed, and were Mohammedans to a man. The arrangements of the camphad to be altered again, to allow these children of nature to encampclose to their commander's tent, for the double purpose of keeping theGranthis from interfering with them, and preventing them from attackingthe Granthis. Badan Hazari was highly contemptuous of this newdeparture on Charteris's part, and ostentatiously pitched his men'stents in similar fashion near Gerrard's, to protect him, as he said, incase those rascally thieves should try to murder him in the night.Their own Sahib might be able to trust them, since he had nothing theywould care to steal, but the acting-Resident of Agpur was a person ofimportance, and his life was valuable.
Having seen their followers bestowed as well as might be, Charteris andGerrard settled down to a good talk, in which the present situation, aswas natural, bulked largely. At first Charteris was inclined to thinkthat things need not have gone so far.
"You'll laugh me to scorn," he said, "but I give you my word I'd haverode after Sher Singh, just as I was, the moment I heard he hadlevanted, and caught him up on the road."
"Or been caught by him, and held as a hostage."
"No, I would have done it before he got to cover here, and brought himback dead or alive."
"To find that the army and the Durbar had made common cause against theRani--perhaps even that she and Kharrak Singh had been judiciouslyremoved."
"That's what it is to have a mind that sees both sides of a question,"said Charteris good-humouredly. "Now I should only have thought ofsecuring Sher Singh, and I'd have done it if I died for it. Whereasyou have left everything in inspection order, and can sit _dharna_[1]on his doorstep for just as long as he can stand seeing you there."
"My patience has its limits," said Gerrard, smiling. "If the illnessrefused to yield to the fakir's treatment, it might become necessary tosend for a European physician from Ranjitgarh, and to blow in the gatesthat he might be able to visit his patient. But I hope Sher Singh willsee fit to recover without our using such drastic remedies."
"Oh, you have him in the hollow of your hand--I don't presume to doubtit. When your letter came, I had a lurking suspicion that it might bea veiled call for co-operation again, but I see I was wrong."
"You forget it's your turn to call upon me. But I'll tell you whereyou can help me, Bob. I want to give these precious troops of mine alittle active work in the way of war-manoeuvres, as the Prussians callthem. The lazy beggars have got abominably soft since Partab Singh'sdeath, with nothing to do but exhibit their lovely selves in thestreets, and mutiny for increased pay to settle their tavern-scores.There's plenty of room here, and good scope, and besides, the sightwill be interesting and cheering for Sher Singh. Let's take 'em inhand."
"I'm your man. But," with a wry face, "what about the tiger-hunting?"
"Oh, we'll get that in. Sher Singh sent word this afternoon that hehoped I would show my forgiving disposition by deigning to allow him toprovide me with a little sport, and I had his head shikari here justbefore you came. He said that owing to Sher Singh's prowess as a shoton his visits to his father-in-law, tigers are much rarer round herethan I thought, and wanted me to go a day's journey to find a likelyspot, but I told him he must produce one within a decent distance or befor ever disgraced. So it's a _bandobast_,[2] and the beast is to beforthcoming to-morrow or the day after."
The next day was spent in military operations, uncheered by any touchof sport, but on the second day after Charteris's arrival the shikaribrought news of a tiger not unreasonably remote, and the two Englishmenstopped work early, and went off on the hunting-elephant, attended bythe wild men from Darwan as beaters, lest they should quarrel with theAgpuris if they were left together. The tiger was duly killed, to theintense admiration--almost adoration--of the shikari, who entreatedeven with tears that the sahibs would allow him to guide them further,to the spot already mentioned to Gerrard, where, to judge from hisdescription, tigers were popping in and out of a particular patch ofjungle like rabbits. Charteris was strongly tempted, and urged thatthey could make the journey in the night by pressing the elephant alittle, shoot a few tigers before breakfast, and return during the day,but Gerrard was firm. He did not intend to allow Sher Singh such anopportunity for tampering with the troops, innocent as he might seem tobe of any desire to do so. They rode back, therefore, squabblingamicably as to whose bullet had really given the _coup de grace_, anddiscussing whether the skin should be mounted as a rug or merely cured.
Their elephant was descending into the river-bed, and the walls andtowers of Adamkot were dominating in dusky red the landscape to theirright, when Gerrard uttered an exclamation, and pointed out a smallbody of mounted men surrounding an elephant, who were approaching theircamp from the opposite side.
"From Agpur!" he said. "Who can be coming? A woman's howdah, too!Why, it looks to me like Bijli, the best hotty in the stables. I wouldhave brought her with me if I hadn't known that the others couldn'tkeep pace with her. Bob, I'm afraid there's something up."
"You underrate your own importance, old boy. They can't do without youin the city, and the Rani has come in person to fetch you back."
"Oh, stop your chaff! No, but I daresay Kharrak Singh has insisted oncoming, and she has sent him in a closed howdah, so as to be safer. Hewas uncommon set on coming with me. I wouldn't hear of it, but he mayhave teased her into giving her consent."
They entered the camp, and descended from their elephant in the spacebefore their tents, just as the other elephant and its escort werechallenged at the outskirts. Charteris and Gerrard both saw thecurtains of the howdah put aside, and a head, apparently that of awoman, thrust forth. They could not hear what was said, but thenewcomers were instantly allowed to pass, and staring soldiers began togather and follow behind them. All eyes were turned on the twoEnglishmen as they went forward, but no one said anything, though itseemed to Gerrard that there was a feeling of awe in the air.
"It must be either the Rani or Kharrak Singh, for there are AmrodhChand and the Rajputs," he murmured to Charteris. "And Rukn-ud-din incommand of a scratch lot of guardsmen from all four troops! What isthis, Komadan-ji?" he inquired of the officer.
"It is an order, sahib, but the mouth of this slave is shut," repliedRukn-ud-din, wheeling his men apart to allow the elephant to advance.It knelt down, and two or three zenana attendants, who had been ridingbehind, came forward and helped a veiled female figure to descend.
"Is it the Rani?" whispered Charteris eagerly.
"How should I know? I have never seen her," said Gerrard impatiently."I shall know when she speaks, I suppose. But look at her cloth, halfbrown and half white! Has she gone mad, to show herself to the troopsin this way? No _pardah_, no sheets!"
"Perhaps she will go into one of the tents," suggested Charteris, asmuch puzzled as his friend, and Gerrard advanced hesitatingly, unableto conceive why the troops did not actively resent this unheard-ofviolation of etiquette. The veiled figure stood solitary against thegorgeous trappings of the kneeling elephant, but there were still twoor three women in the howdah, as he could tell by their whispering.The widow's white garments made it probable that the one on the groundwas the Rani, but what was the extraordinary stain which disfigured oneend of her veil? Perhaps her silence arose from horror at findingherself stranded in public view instead of being properly conductedfrom howdah to tent without allowing onlookers a glimpse of thepassage. He spoke with diffidence, keeping his eyes on the ground.
"There are tents at the service of the great one who has arrived. Isit an order that she be conducted thither?"
"No!" cried the woman fiercely, dashing the veil from her face."Henceforth the mother of Partab Singh Rajah's son is no longer_pardah_, but lives for vengeance the few hours that remain to her.Avenge me, O Jirad Sahib! avenge me, O soldiers of Partab Singh! avengeme on the man who has left me childless, the slayer of his brother!"
"But when was this? What has happened?" gasped Gerrard.
"Two days ago at this time. I waited only to burn the body of my son,and hastened hither for my vengeance."
"But it is impossible, Maharaj. Kunwar Sher Singh has been ill in bedsince he arrived here."
"Has he?" The Rani's laugh rang out shrill and terrible. "It is easyto deceive some men. Let Jirad Sahib send now for Sher Singh, and seeif he comes."
Gerrard turned hastily, to find himself confronted by the fakir and twoor three of Sher Singh's servants, waiting with downcast eyes. "Whyare you here?" he demanded of them.
"Sahib, we bear a message from our lord, who desired to know whatfortune your honours enjoyed to-day in hunting. Seeing you return soearly, he feared the sport had been poor."
"Go instantly, and bid the Prince return hither with you," said Gerrardbrusquely.
"But your honour knows he is laid upon his bed, and cannot rise."
"Then bring him on his bed. His life depends upon it. If he is nothere in half an hour, I will blow in the gates and come and fetch himmyself."
"It is an order!" said Sher Singh's servants in chorus, and withdrew.Gerrard turned back to the Rani.
"Your Highness has proof of what you say?"
"This much of proof. Two days ago Sarfaraz Khan--may an evil ghosthaunt him from henceforth!--came to me with a tale that the guards werediscontented by reason of the favour shown to the rest of the army. Ipromised to do what I could, and went into the room where my jewels arekept, to see if I had anything left that might satisfy them. Kneelingbefore a coffer, I heard my son shriek without, but when I ran to seewhat ailed him, certain of my women--daughters of shame, whose end iseven as they deserved--pushed me back into the room, and held the dooragainst me. I heard my son fleeing and calling to me for succour, andthe clash of the weapons of those that pursued him in silence. I heardhim cry, 'O brother, slay me not!' and I heard his moans as theystruck. And though I tore at the door until my hands ran down withblood, I could not move it, until the murderers were safely departed.Then the door yielded suddenly, and I came out, to find my son lyingdead in his blood. I called my own servants and swore them tovengeance, dipping in the blood their swords and this cloth of mine,which I will wear until the innocent blood is washed out in the bloodof him that shed it, and first I bade them slay the women that hadbefooled me and held me back from dying with my son. Then I gaveorders for the burning of my son's body, for fear the murderers shouldbe minded to add insult to their crime, and I called together theDurbar and the heads of the army, and bade them search the city forSher Singh, and offer a reward for him, dead or alive. But theyrefused, and mocked me, saying that Sher Singh was now Rajah, and theirobedience was his. Then I reviled them to their faces--speakingunveiled, as one minded to mount the pyre and be consumed with the bodyof my son, could I but be assured of vengeance--and called upon thosewho remained faithful to follow me. This man Rukn-ud-din and these fewsowars were all that came, and when we had burnt the body of my son, wetook up his ashes and departed--many desiring to stop us, but no mancaring to strike the first blow--to ride hither and demand justice onSher Singh. And this, O Jirad Sahib, was Kharrak Singh, my son."
She swept aside the discoloured veil, and showed a brazen vessel filledwith ashes, which she carried clasped to her breast. "This was my son,Jirad Sahib and soldiers of Partab Singh. Foully has he been cut off,before he could raise up a posterity to perform his funeral rites. Bythe innocent blood and the dishonoured ashes, I call upon you forvengeance."
"If it can be shown that Sher Singh has committed this murder, justiceshall indeed be done upon him, Maharaj," said Gerrard. "But I thinkyou will find that he has not left this place."
"Then to whom did my son call out 'Brother'?" she demanded fiercely."You will not find him."
"The Prince!" burst from the surrounding soldiers, and all turnedtowards the gateway of the fort, where a little group of men could beseen. A palanquin was brought out, and the bearers carried it swiftlydown the winding path. Almost unconsciously the crowd below pressedforward to the foot of the cliff. The palanquin reached the bottom andstopped, and the fakir, who had followed it, opened the curtains andhelped out a bent figure--unmistakably Sher Singh. A shriek broke fromthe Rani.
"He has outridden me and reached this place first!" she cried. "Seehis weakness, his deathly aspect. What but four days and nights ofriding could account for it?"
Disregarding her words, Sher Singh turned with dignity to Gerrard."What does my friend Jirad Sahib require of me?" he asked mildly. "Athis command I have risen from my bed, weak and faint with illnessthough I am. My servants tell me that my brother is dead. Is my blooddesired also?"
"Your brother died calling upon you to spare him," said Gerrard.
"And is the life of a man to hang upon the cry of a terrified child?"asked Sher Singh, with the same dignified meekness. "Nay, if he criedout 'Brother!' would he not say the same to any man of Granthi stock?Jirad Sahib knows our customs, and that it is our wont to speak thus toone another."
"The matter must be properly tried," said Gerrard. "Your Highnesssees"--he turned to the Rani--"that there is no proof against thebrother of your son. Let me entreat you to retire to the tent preparedfor you, and rest."
The Rani waved him back with a contemptuous gesture. "I have asked forno trial," she cried; "I demand justice. Here to his face I accuseSher Singh of having ridden secretly to Agpur and murdered my son, hisbrother, and then returned hither in haste that he might give the lieto my words. Who is on my side? Who will slay this wretch for me?Jirad Sahib?"
"Maharaj, I can do nothing until the whole matter has been inquiredinto and fairly decided."
"Oh, words, words! such as the English ever speak, and do nothing untilit is too late! You then, soldiers of Partab Singh Rajah! Will yousee your king's son murdered unavenged? Avenge me on his murderer!"
No one moved, but from the back of the crowd a murmur arose whichswelled into a cry, "Sher Singh Rajah! Sher Singh Rajah!" The Ranistarted as if she had been stung.
"Will you set this wretch before my eyes on the _gaddi_ from which hehas swept his father and his brother?" she shrieked. "Can the heavenslook down on such a sight of shame, and not grow black?"
The soldiers cowered before her, but a short thick-set man pushed hisway to the front. "I am not wise," he said, and a laugh answered him,"but a plain man may ask questions that the learned cannot answer. HerHighness desires us to slay Sher Singh. For whose benefit? say I. Shesays he is a murderer, but even if it were so--which I see no cause tobelieve--he is the last of Partab Singh's house. To whom should thekingdom fall, if he were slain? To her Highness herself--who mightthen be less desirous of death? To her friends the English? perhaps toJirad Sahib--who would not be the first to owe a thron
e to a woman'sfavour. Not one of these has any cause to desire the death of SherSingh, of course--I lay my hand upon my mouth for having even utteredthe thought--but who then does desire it? Not the soldiers of PartabSingh, say I."
"And thou sayest well, brother!" burst from the soldiers. "Sher SinghRajah! We will set him on the _gaddi_, and by the might of the Guru!if the English interfere, we will fight them." Out of the tumult inthe ranks a high thin voice rose above the rest. "Back to the zenana,shameless one! Wilt thou disgrace thy lord, as she of Ranjitgarh dothdaily?"
The two Englishmen and their followers moved towards the Rani toprotect her, but she waved them back with measureless contempt, thenturned upon the jeering soldiers with eyes glowing like live coals.
"Truly Jirad Sahib spoke well when he warned me that you, for whom Ihave stripped myself of the very jewels of my marriage-portion,designed only to play me false. Ai Guru! what a lot is mine, to dwellin a land where the men are as women, even as those that sellthemselves for gain! Hear then the curse of the widow, the childlessone. Behold the unavenged ashes of my son!" she thrust forth thebrazen urn. "As I cover them from your unworthy sight with the clothstained with his innocent blood"--sweeping her veil over it--"so shallthe blood of Agpur extinguish the burning embers of her houses. As youhave cried shame upon me, seeking to avenge my dead, so shall yourchildless mothers and your widowed wives find shame in seeking toavenge you, and the death of honour shall be denied them. For innocentblood shall the doom come, though my eyes shall not behold it, andthrough these two Feringhees"--she indicated Gerrard andCharteris--"who shall execute justice on the murderer in the day whenthey shall make a road for a corpse through the great wall of Agpur."
"The doom is easily averted, if only by slaying the two Feringhees andthe woman here and now," said the short man who had stood forth as SherSingh's champion, but this time his words did not meet with the formerready response.
"Aye, do so," said the Rani coolly, "and bring the English down uponyou to fulfil the curse as soon as it is uttered."
She faced the ready weapons defiantly, but Sher Singh, who had beensitting drooping upon the edge of the palanquin, apparently too weakeither to defend himself or to interfere to prevent a massacre, nowsummoned strength again and interposed.
"The army has spoken truth," he said. "I am Rajah, grievous as is thecause that brings me to the _gaddi_, and evil as shall be the fate ofthe murderers of my brother. Against Jirad Sahib I bear no malice forhis doubts of me, for he has been led astray by the bitter tongue of awoman crazed with grief. She demands vengeance; I will be her avenger,as is fitting, since my father was her husband. In my house she willreceive due honour as his widow, and it will fare ill with any man whospeaks of shame in connection with this day. Let her Highness beconducted back to her elephant and carried into the fort, where asuitable reception awaits her."
"Not unless she wills it," said Gerrard firmly. "Where does yourHighness choose to dwell?" he asked of the Rani, who stood waitingimpassively.
"I have no desire to live save for vengeance, but my life would lastbut an hour or two within those walls," she said calmly.
"Where would your Highness prefer to go?"
"I would fain entrust my son's ashes to Mother Ganga, and visit Kashiin pilgrimage. That is my desire."
"It shall be done. Will your Highness permit Lieutenant Charteris toescort you to Ranjitgarh?" He looked round for Charteris, intending topresent him, but he had slipped away a moment before. "At Ranjitgarhthe Resident will charge himself with your safety."
"What Jirad Sahib suggests is impossible," said Sher Singh withdetermination. "My _izzat_"--a convenient term, covering most thingsfrom self-esteem to family honour--"would be destroyed if my father'swife wandered away from my house."
"The choice lies with her Highness," said Gerrard. "Let her servantsdecide whether they will serve her or Sher Singh Rajah."
The Rajputs stepped over to their mistress's side at once, and so didRukn-ud-din and most of his troopers, but some even of these who hadaccompanied the Rani from Agpur preferred to worship the riding[Transcriber's note: rising?] sun. Sher Singh smiled unpleasantly.
"Since I am so many, and he so few, Jirad Sahib will not force me todefend my _izzat_ with the sword?"
"I begin to think that it needs a good deal of defending," said Gerrardmeaningly, "but that will not be done by attacking me. I shall attendthe Rani Sahiba to Ranjitgarh myself."
[1] Starving oneself to force a debtor to pay.
[2] Fixture.
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