The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “Very well, Mr. Lindsay; you showed such discretion and judgment, during your residence at Poona, that I am well content to leave the matter in your hands. The appointment as assistant to Colonel Palmer will carry with it a civil allowance of three hundred rupees a month. Of course, all necessary expenses will be paid and, should you find it expedient to use a certain amount of bribery, to obtain the news we require in other quarters besides that of the minister, you will refer the matter to the Resident.

  “You will, of course, give your reports to Colonel Palmer, and will be under his orders, generally. He will be requested to further your special mission in every way in his power.”

  “When shall I start, sir?”

  “As soon as you like, Mr. Lindsay.”

  “I shall be ready, sir, as soon as the clothes are made for me. I must have one or two disguises, of various kinds, to use as most desirable. Some of these I can, no doubt, buy ready made—perhaps all of them. If so, I will start at daylight, tomorrow.”

  “Very well, Mr. Lindsay. I shall be sending up a despatch to Colonel Palmer, and it will be left at your tent, this evening.”

  On leaving the Government House, Harry went to see Soyera. Scarcely a day had passed, since he came to Bombay, without his paying her a visit.

  “I am off again to Poona,” he said. “I do not know how long I shall be away. It must depend upon what is going on up there. Of course, I should be glad to have you with me; but that would hamper my movements. I shall, naturally, see Sufder as soon as I get there.”

  “But what are you going for? Will you travel as an officer?”

  “No, I shall be in disguise. It seems that things are unsettled; and I am, if possible, to find out the intentions of the various leaders, and communicate them privately to our Resident. I shall have to take to dyeing my skin again, which is a nuisance, but it cannot be helped. I shall take with me three or four different disguises, and get you to do the shopping for me. I wish to have them by this evening, as I shall start in the morning, early.

  “I shall get leave to take my soldier servant, Abdool, with me. He is a sharp fellow, and may be useful. I shall have to buy a pony for him.”

  “What sort of disguises do you want?”

  “One is that of a native soldier.”

  “That is easy enough, as it differs but little from the ordinary Mahratta’s dress.”

  “One would certainly be the attire of a trader, in good circumstances. I can’t think, at present, of any other.”

  “I should say the dress of a Brahmin might be useful,” Soyera suggested.

  “Yes, that would give me an entry, unquestioned, to Nana, or to any other person of importance.”

  By nightfall, Soyera had bought the three disguises, and obtained from a native dyer a supply of stain sufficient for a long time; and Harry had purchased two useful ponies, for himself and his servant.

  At mess, that evening, the colonel said:

  “So you are going to leave us, for a time, Mr. Lindsay. I have received a letter, from the Governor, requesting me to put you in orders, tomorrow, as seconded from the regiment for civil employment. I won’t ask you where you are going. That is no business of ours. But I am sure I can say, in the name of my officers as well as myself, that we shall all miss you, very much.”

  A murmur of acquiescence passed round the table and, seeing that Harry, in thanking the colonel, made no allusion to what he was going to do, they followed the example of their superior officer, and abstained from asking any questions.

  “I should like to take my man, Abdool, with me, Colonel,” Harry said, later on. “He is a sharp fellow, and I might find him very useful.”

  “By all means. I will tell the adjutant that I have allowed him to go with you.”

  “I am not going in uniform, nor are you to do so,” Harry said to Abdool, when he returned to his tent. “I am going in Mahratta dress, and I shall take a lodging in the town, and pass as a native. I know, Abdool, that you are a sharp fellow, and feel certain that I can depend upon you.”

  “You can certainly depend upon me, sahib. You have been a kind master, and I would do anything for you.”

  “What part of the country do you come from, Abdool?”

  “From Rajapoor, in the Concan, sahib. I had no fancy for working in the fields, so I left and took service with the Company. I have never regretted it. I have been a great deal better off than if I had enlisted in the army of one of the great chiefs. The pay is higher, and we are very much better treated.”

  “Well, Abdool, when this business which I am now starting on is over, I shall recommend you for promotion and, in any case, will make you a present of three months’ pay.”

  The next morning they started at daybreak. When a few miles out of town, they took off their uniforms; and Harry put on the dress of a trader. There was no occasion for any disguise for Abdool who, like all the native troops, was accustomed, after drill was over for the day, to put on native garments. The uniforms were then folded up, and stowed in the wallets behind the saddles.

  They had brought with them a good supply of grain for their horses, and provisions for themselves; so that they might not have to stop at any village. They rode at a steady pace, and mounted the Ghauts by eleven o’clock. Then they waited three hours, to feed and rest the animals and, just as the sun was setting, entered Poona, having accomplished a journey of fifty miles. Knowing the place so well, Harry rode to a quiet street near the bazaar and, seeing an old man at one of the doors, asked him if he knew of anyone who could afford accommodation for him and his servant.

  “I can do that, myself,” the man said. “I am alone in the house. Two merchants who have been staying here left me, yesterday; and I can let you have all the house, except one room for myself.”

  “You have no stables, I suppose?”

  “No, sahib, but there is an outhouse which would hold the two horses.”

  There was a little haggling over the terms; for it would have been altogether contrary, to Indian usages, to have agreed to any price without demur. Finally the matter was arranged, at a price halfway between that which the man demanded, and that offered by Harry and, in a short time, they were settled in the two rooms of the second floor. Harry then went out and bought two thick quilted cushions, used as mattresses, and two native blankets.

  They had still provisions enough for the evening. The furniture was scanty, consisting of a raised bed place, or divan; two tables, raised about a foot from the ground; brass basins, and large earthenware jars of water. Harry, however, was too well accustomed to it to consider such accommodation insufficient.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, “I will get a carpet for sitting upon, and you will have to get copper vessels, for cooking.”

  Abdool presently went out, and returned with two large bundles of forage for the horses. Soon afterwards they lay down, feeling stiff and tired from their unaccustomed exertions.

  The next morning Harry went to the Residency. He had again painted caste marks on his face, which completely changed his appearance. Telling the guard that he had come from Bombay, and had a message for Colonel Palmer, he was shown in.

  “You bring a message for me?” the colonel said, shortly; for he was, at the time, writing a despatch.

  “Yes, sir,” Harry answered, in Mahratti. “I have come to be your assistant.”

  “Then you are Mr. Lindsay!” the Resident exclaimed, dropping his pen and rising to his feet. “I received a despatch, yesterday, saying that you were coming. Of course, I remember you now, having seen you on the day I came up here; but your dress is altogether different, and the expression of your face seems so changed.”

  “That is the result of my having adopted different caste marks, larger than they were before, with lines that almost cover my forehead.”

  “I did not expect you to come in disguise.”

  “The Governor thought, Colonel, that I might be of greater service, in finding out what was passing in the town, and in going else
where, were I to come up as a native. To an officer of the Residency, all parties would keep their lips sealed.”

  “I thoroughly agree with you,” the Resident said. “Your disguise differs so much, from your former appearance, that I do not think any of your acquaintances, of those days, would be likely to recognize you.”

  “At present I am supposed to be a trader; but I have with me the dress of a peasant, or small cultivator, which I used when I went into Scindia’s camp. I have also the dress of a Brahmin—one of the better class—which I thought, if necessary, would enable me to enter the house of Nana, or other leaders, without exciting surprise. I also have my uniform with me.

  “I am staying, at present, in the street that faces the market, at the house of a man named Naroo. I myself am Bhaskur. I have a soldier servant with me, on whom I can confidently rely; and I will send him, with a chit, when I have any news to give you, and you can send me word at what hour I had better call.

  “Now, Colonel, I am at your orders and, if you will indicate to me the nature of the news which you wish to gain, or the person whom you want watched, I will do the best I can. At present, I know nothing of any changes that have taken place, since I left here.”

  “The only event that is publicly known is that, while the Peishwa has carried out his engagement with Scindia and with the Rajah of Berar, he refused to ratify any treaty with the Nizam; and the consequence is that the latter’s general quitted Poona, without taking leave of Bajee Rao, and returned in great indignation to Hyderabad. This matter might have been smoothed over, if Scindia had intervened, or if the Peishwa had made suitable advances to the Nizam; but he has not done so. There is no doubt that he thoroughly dislikes Nana Furnuwees and, instead of being grateful to him for having placed him on the throne, he would gladly weaken his power. At any rate, it was Nana who formed the confederacy; and I know that his greatest wish is to keep it intact, and to secure peace to the country.

  “Moreover, matters have been further complicated by the death of Holkar. He left two sons behind him, Khassee and Mulhar. Unfortunately, Khassee is next door to an imbecile; while Mulhar was a bold and able prince. The brothers quarrelled: two half brothers took the part of Mulhar, who left his brother’s camp, with a small body of troops, and took up his abode at a village just outside the city—and was, I believe, favoured by Nana, whose interest naturally was to have an active and able prince, as ruler of Holkar’s dominions. Scindia—who was, I suspect, delighted at this quarrel in Holkar’s camp—supported Khassee, and sent a body of troops to arrest Mulhar, who, refusing to surrender, maintained a desperate defence, until he was killed. Jeswunt went to Nagpore and Wittoojee fled to Kolapoore, but they were almost the only adherents of Mulhar who effected their escape.

  “So matters stand, at present. The fact that the imbecile Khassee owes his elevation to Scindia will, naturally, give the latter a predominating influence over him. Thus, you see, the confederacy has gone completely to pieces. The Nizam is estranged; the Rajah of Berar has gone home to Nagpore; Holkar’s power is, for the time, subservient to Scindia; and Nana Furnuwees is, therefore, deprived of all those who aided to bring him back to power.

  “You are well known to Nana, are you not?”

  “Yes, Colonel, he was kind enough to place a good deal of confidence in me.”

  “Then I think you cannot do better than see him, to begin with, and gather his views on the matter. I myself have heard nothing from him, for some time. He knows that the Company are well disposed towards him; but he also knows that they can give him no assistance, in a sudden crisis.”

  “But surely, Colonel, Bajee Rao, who owes everything to him, will not desert him?”

  “My opinion of the Peishwa is that he is a man without a spark of good feeling; that he has neither conscience nor gratitude, and would betray his own brother, if he thought that he would obtain any advantage by so doing. He is a born schemer, and his sole idea of politics is to play off one faction against another. I would rather take the word of a man of the lowest class, than the oath of Bajee Rao.”

  “I am sorry to hear it, sir. He seemed to me to be a fine fellow, with many accomplishments. His handsome face and figure, and winning manner—”

  “His manner is part of his stock in trade,” the colonel said, angrily. “He is a born actor; and can deceive, for a time, even those who are perfectly aware of his unscrupulous character.

  “Remember one thing, Mr. Lindsay: that if you are in any difficulty, or if a tumult breaks out in the city, you had best make your way here, at once. A trooper of my escort was thrown from his horse, and killed, the other day; and if you attire yourself in his uniform, you will pass for one of them. Whatever happens, they are not likely to be touched. Both parties wish to stand well with me and, even were it found out that you are an Englishman, you would be safely sheltered here; for I should claim you as my assistant, and an officer in our army, and declare truthfully that you had only assumed this guise in order to ascertain, for me, the feelings of the populace.”

  “Thank you, sir. I will certainly come here, as soon as any serious trouble begins.”

  That evening, after rubbing off the caste marks and assuming those of a Brahmin, and putting on the dress suitable for it—padding it largely, to give him the appearance of a stout and bulky man—he went to Nana’s house.

  “Will you tell the minister,” he said to the doorkeeper, “that Kawerseen, a Brahmin of the Kshittree caste, desires to speak to him?”

  The man gave the message to one of the attendants who, in two or three minutes, returned and asked Harry to follow him. The minister was alone.

  “What have you to say to me, holy man?” he enquired; and then, looking more fixedly at his visitor, he exclaimed:

  “Why, it is Puntojee!”

  “You are right, Nana. I am sent here to ascertain, if possible, what is going on, and how things are likely to tend. But first, I must tell you that I am now here as Colonel Palmer’s assistant.”

  “I will take you entirely into my confidence,” Nana said. “Until you told me that you were an Englishman, when you took leave of me two years ago, I could not quite understand why it was that I felt I could confide in you, more than in the older men around me. I esteem the English highly, and especially admire them for their honesty and truthfulness. You at once impressed me as one possessing such qualities and, now that I know you are English, I can understand the feeling that you inspired.

  “I am glad you have come. No doubt your Government are well informed, as to the state of affairs here. I feel the power slipping from my hands, without seeing any way by which I can recover my lost ground. Scindia is solely under the domination of Ghatgay, whose daughter he will shortly marry. I have, of course, made it my business to enquire as to the antecedents of this man. I find that he has the reputation of being a brutal ruffian, remarkable alike for his greed and his cruelty—a worse adviser Scindia could not have. Holkar was but a poor reed to lean upon, for he was as weak in mind, as in body. But at any rate, he was a true friend of mine and, now that he has been succeeded by one even more imbecile than himself—and who is but a puppet in the hands of Scindia, to whose troops he owes his accession—his power and his dominions are practically Scindia’s.

  “There can be no doubt, whatever, that Bajee Rao is acting secretly with Scindia; that is to say, he is pretending so to act, for he is a master of duplicity and, even where his own interests are concerned, seems to be unable to carry out, honestly, any agreement that he has made.

  “I am an old man, Mr. Lindsay, and can no longer struggle as I did, two years ago, against fate; nor indeed do I see any means of contending against such powerful enemies. The Rajah of Berar, although well disposed towards me, could not venture, alone, to support me against the united power of Scindia and Holkar, backed by that of the Peishwa.

  “There is but one direction in which I could seek for help—namely, from the Government of Bombay—but even this, were it given, would scarcely avai
l much against the power of my enemies. And even were I sure that it could do so, I would not call it in. My aim, through life, has been to uphold the power of the Peishwa, and to lessen that of Scindia and Holkar and, by playing one against the other, to avert the horrors of civil war. Were I to call in the aid of the English, I should be acting in contradiction to the principles that I have ever held.

  “The arrival of a force of English, here, would at once unite the whole of the Mahrattas against them, as it did when last they ascended the Ghauts; and believing as I do in their great valour and discipline, which has been amply shown by the conduct of Scindia’s infantry, which are mainly officered by Europeans, it is beyond belief that they can withstand the whole power of the Mahratta empire. But granting that they might do so, what would be the result? I should see my country shaken to the centre, the capital in the hands of strangers, and to what end? Simply that I, an old and worn-out man should, for a very few years, remain in power here. It would be necessary for those who placed me there to remain as my guardians, and I should be a mere cypher in their hands. Nothing, therefore, would persuade me to seek English aid to retain me in power.”

  “But the English would doubtless act in alliance with the Nizam, and probably with the Rajahs of Berar and Kolapoore.”

  “Possibly they might do so, but what would be the result? Each of these leaders would, in return for his aid, bargain for increased territory, at the expense of the Peishwa; and I, who believe that I am trusted by the great mass of the people here, should become an object of execration at having brought the invaders into our country.

  “No, Mr. Lindsay; my enemies can, and I believe will, capture me and throw me into prison. They will scarcely take my life, for to do so would excite a storm of indignation; but I always carry poison about with me and, if they applied torture as a preliminary to death, I have the power of releasing myself from their hands.

  “Are you established at the Residency?”