THE CASHMERE GATE.
Marian turned to the nawab, and told him they accepted his
hospitality with much gratitude. He seemed delighted, and led the
way to the veranda, where he insisted that they should seat
themselves on the cane settees and chairs of native manufacture The
porter approached and made a respectful salaam, though he must have
been filled with wonder to see the two Inglese before him. Like his
master, he would have been eager to betray them into the power of
their enemies, had he suspected their presence in the garden. He and
his master must have wondered how it was the couple escaped discovery.
Addressing Marian, the nawab asked,
"Ap ko kuchh khana chaiye?" (Do you desire any food?)
She declined with thanks, saying that they only wanted rest and
shelter.
"Stay under my roof, Miss sahib, as long as my poor hospitality can
be endured," urged the nawab, with the effusiveness characteristic of
his people.
The native, having recovered from his excessive fear, lit his hookah,
offering none, however, to his infidel guest. He smoked a few
minutes in silence, and then, addressing himself to Marian, asked her
to be kind enough to tell how it was she and her escort were in such
danger from the wicked mob. The young lady told the story in a few
sentences.
When she had finished, their host, in his soft, pleasant voice, said
that he had learned of the revolt at Meerut, and his heart was deeply
pained. He saw that much sorrow and suffering must come, but he knew
that in the end the English would subdue the rebels, who would be
made to suffer for their evil deeds.
"Nor will the English fail to reward their friends," was the
diplomatic observation of the young lady; "our government is as quick
to recognize a friend as to punish a foe."
"That I have always known; therefore, come what may, I shall be true
to the English."
The nawab, having delivered himself of this fine sentiment, summoned
one of the two servants who were standing in the further corner of
the veranda, where until then they had shown no more life than a
couple of stone images. As the man stepped promptly forward, his
master said a few words in such a low voice, that the listening
Marian could not catch a syllable. She afterward believed that she
did hear what was said, but it was in some dialect unintelligible to
her. She thought nothing of it, however, and the servant entered the
house in his stealthy, gliding fashion.
Having translated for Dr. Avery what had passed between her and the
nawab, Marian turned toward him again, as if inviting him to continue
the conversation.
"Where is the home of Miss sahib, who honors me with her presence?"
asked the native, after taking two or three strong puffs at his
hookah, which had been neglected for a few minutes.
She gave him the address, and he nodded his head.
"I know the good man--I know Mr. Jennings also. He is a missionary.
I do not believe in your faith, but I am none the less your friend.
A true follower of the Prophet is the enemy of no man."
These sentiments were so unusual and so inappropriate, as may be
said, for a Mohammedan, that the young lady was puzzled. She could
not but doubt the sincerity of a Mussulman who talked that way.
Since Dr. Avery found his ears of little account while this
conversation was going on, he made good use of his eyes. Marian was
talking with some animation, when through the tattie that had been
pulled aside he discerned the crouching figure of a man stealing
toward the entrance of the compound. He came around the corner of
the house, and was evidently trying to reach the street without being
seen.
The truth flashed upon the surgeon.
"That is the servant the nawab called to him and gave some order in a
low voice; that order was that he should slip out of the garden and
make known to the leaders of the mob that the infidels for whom they
are searching are here in his house, and he will keep them until they
come back and kill them."
"Marian," said he, suppressing all evidence of excitement, "if we do
not leave at once, we are lost. The precious scoundrel has sent out
his servant to notify the mob that we are here. Make the best excuse
we can; let us go."
He rose to his feet, and Marian, instantly grasping the situation,
thanked their host for his kindness, adding as an excuse for their
abrupt departure that her parents would be alarmed by her long
absence.
"Will not the sahib honor our home with his presence?" asked the
nawab, who could not conceal his chagrin.
"Tell him," growled Avery, "that nothing would give me more pleasure
than to fill his carcass with lead."
Under the pretense of translating this savage remark, the young lady
repeated her thanks. Then, Marian taking the arm of her escort, the
two waved their host a respectful farewell and hurried into the
street.
For several minutes they did not speak, but, walking rapidly, took
advantage of every turn that presented itself. Dr. Avery was sure
they were watched, and not until convinced they were safely beyond
all surveillance did he speak.
"Do you know where we are?"
"I have a general knowledge of the direction," she said. "If we keep
on, we shall soon reach the Cashmere Gate; but we are now approaching
a part of the city where we shall meet many people. To avoid
attention I must walk behind you, according to the custom in this
part of the world."
"Your head is level," was the admiring comment of Dr. Avery, whose
spirits began to rebound from their extreme depression; "but since I
don't know anything about this town, you will have to guide me. When
you want me to turn to the right call out '_Haw!_' and when I am to
go the other way, sing out '_Gee_.' If I travel too fast shout
'_Whoa!_' and if I go too slow touch me up with anything you can lay
hands on."
It need not be said that these heroic measures did not become
necessary. Avery sauntered along in a natural manner. Whenever in
doubt about the right course to take, he glanced behind him, and his
fair guide had no difficulty in giving him the cue.
Before long, the massive city wall loomed up before them. The huge
Cashmere Gate was open as usual, and crowds of people were coming in
through it as well as through the Calcutta Gate and other openings,
while only a few passed out. The first arrival of mutineers from
Meerut was by way of the River Gate, the news of their coming
reaching the cantonments about the middle of the forenoon.
Dr. Avery was making his way with care and a little trepidation
through the crowd when some one touched his arm. Turning about, he
was delighted to see that it was Luchman.
"Were you alarmed by our delay?" asked the surgeon.
"Follow me," said the native, without deigning a reply.
He conducted them in the direction of the cantonments, where General
Graves's soldiers were posted, from which Avery judged that he had
decided to trust to their protection.
Before going far, they came upon the missionary and his wife, who
were in an agony of fear because of the prolonged absence of their
daughter. Their joy was that of those whose beloved was dead and is
alive again.
"We shall take refuge in the Flagstaff Tower," said Luchman; "the
Ghoojurs are swarming into the city."
The Ghoojurs are a numerous people in the villages around Delhi, and
belong to the nomadic tribes which originally occupied India. They
profess agriculture, but are brigands and murderers.