"NO, SAHIB, NOT I."
The soft footstep which fell on their ears was that of Luchman
returning from his foraging expedition.
He did not come back empty handed. He brought a lota or brass jar of
water, some native fruits and a half dozen chuppatties or flat cakes,
used universally through India and the greater part of the Orient, as
well as in Central and South America. There was no meat, which would
have been unpalatable during such hot weather. The water, as was to
be expected, was warm and not very clear, but it was sufficient for
their wants, and they were grateful because of the success of the
native.
It was an impressive sight when this humble meal was spread upon the
ground, and the missionary asked the blessing of Heaven upon the
food, while a prayer for continued protection was not forgotten.
During the simple service none was more devout than the guide. His
head was bowed and his lips moved with a prayer of his own, which
lasted a minute or two after the other was finished.
While they were eating, Mr. Hildreth asked Luchman how he came to be
so fortunate in his search for food. He replied that India was a
rich country, and he was not forced to any extreme measure to get
what he brought. He found a native's hut at no great distance, where
he obtained all that was needed. The lota was a part of the native's
property, and his wife had just baked the cakes for the evening meal.
Inasmuch as the seller was well paid for what he furnished, no doubt
he would be pleased to continue the contract.
There was an abundance for all, and after the meal each prepared to
pass the evening hour as enjoyably as possible. The mother laid her
head in her daughter's lap, while Marian rested hers against the
trunk of a tree, and both closed their eyes in slumber. They were
weary, and had such need of rest that the slumber was welcome.
Mr. Hildreth imitated them, and, like most persons of his age, it
took but a few minutes for him to glide off into the land of dreams.
Dr. Avery and Luchman remained awake. The latter seemed to have
formed a strong liking for the Englishman, whom he was not unwilling
a short time before to leave in a situation of deadly peril. The
surgeon was out of cigars, and as a matter of course never was so
eager for a smoke. Under the circumstances, he was glad to share
with Luchman the enjoyment of his hookah, or water pipe, generally
made of cocoanut, and so cheap that even the beggars are supplied
with them.
A few minutes were enough to satisfy the surgeon, when with thanks he
passed the hookah to its owner, who puffed in the slow, solemn
fashion peculiar to his people when they are resting. The native,
like the surgeon, seemed to be in good spirits, though in his case
there was little variation to be seen except by a close observer.
Both had reason to feel thankful for the success that had marked
their attempt to get out of the center of the mutiny, and Luchman
admitted that they could not have done better.
"We never would have done half as well but for you," was the warm
comment of the Englishman.
"No, sahib, not I, but God."
"True, but you are his instrument; no one could have shown such skill
in dealing with the Ghoojurs. When it was impossible to deceive them
any longer, you acted with the promptness of the lightning stroke."
Something like a smile played about the corners of the native's lips.
Nothing in the way of praise could move him, but clearly he was
gratified by the manner in which those brigands had been baffled in
their attempt to rob the fugitives.
"The Ghoojurs, sahib, are bad--very bad; they would have killed all
of us had they not been stopped."
"There can be no doubt of that. Mr. Hildreth and myself have not
much to boast of in the way of marksmanship, but we fired so quickly
that we had no time to aim."
"It helped to drive them away, sahib, and maybe struck them."
"Luchman," added the doctor, lowering his voice, so as to make sure
that if any of their friends awoke suddenly they would not overhear
their words, "I hope there is no danger of your losing that diamond
you showed me."
The dark face instantly became serious, and the native looked down at
the ground, as he softly said,
"God will take care of it, sahib."
"You have a fortune such as few in this world possess; and do you
still carry it in your turban?"
Luchman looked around in the faces of his three friends. Satisfied
that they were really asleep, he raised with dignity the turban,
insinuated his fingers among the downy recesses, and in a twinkling
held up the gem between his thumb and forefinger.
There it was, the Star of India.
Brilliant with the dazzling rays of the spectrum, luminous,
apparently, with a light of its own, gleaming, coruscating and
marvelous, the European fairly held his breath while gazing upon it.
"Let me have it in my hand!"
Luchman leaned forward and dropped it in the outstretched palm. The
doctor held it motionless a moment, drew it close to his face and
then began manipulating it, first with timidity, but soon with
confidence, moved by a strange delight.
There seemed to be an electric thrill communicated by the
extraordinary gem, which reached the brain of the spectator, who
turned it over and over, and, as he became more familiar with it,
held it up, now near and now at arm's length, until he had drunk in
the fulness of its wonderful beauty.
"An amazing gem!" he muttered; "I can understand how it has caused so
much crime and bloodshed."
Dr. Avery passed it back with a sigh.
"It seems to me," said he, "that you run fearful risk in carrying
that in your turban. Why do you not deposit it in one of the banks
in Calcutta or Madras or Bombay, where there is nothing to be feared
from the mutineers?"
The native shook his head.
"It is as safe, sahib, in my turban as anywhere. It can only be
taken with my life, and then what difference?"
"How did it come into your possession?"
"That I cannot tell you, sahib, but it is mine alone."
This assertion, it will be observed, contradicted what the native
said when he first showed the diamond to Dr. Avery. Then he
distinctly declared that it was the property of Marian Hildreth. The
Englishman did not think it best to remark upon the inconsistency.
"Suppose that it should become known that you possess the Star of
India?"
"It is known, sahib."
"Not generally."
"The bitterest enemy I have in the world, sahib, knows it, and he
would sacrifice my life ten thousand times over for the sake of the
diamond."
"Who is he?"
"Wana Affghar of Puneput."
"Who is he?"
"Puneput, sahib, is a small native town between us and Kurnal, but I
hope to pass to the left of it. There are many Ghoojurs there, and
Wana Affghar is a chieftain among them. He knows that I have the
Star of India, and he would follow me across the ocean to get it."
"Does he know where you are now?"
"His men in Delhi have looked for me, but I kept out of their way.
He suspects where I am."
"It is reckless for you to keep it about you."
But the native smiled in a way that was more significant than his
friend suspected.