Holkar the Treacherous
"The sahib's coffee. In an hour it will be light."
Mulha, the faithful Mahratta who acted as servant to Owen, kneeled at
the feet of the figure rolled in a blanket beside the fire, and wakened
his master with a gentle touch of the hand. "Chota hazree, sahib," he
said. "Rise and warm yourself before the fire. In a little while it will
be time to be starting."
Owen yawned and sat up lazily. Then he opened his eyes with a start, and
remembering where he was, leaped to his feet, throwing off the blanket
which covered him.
"I had forgotten. I was dreaming," he said. "Are the men up?"
"See them, sahib. They have groomed and fed the horses. They are now
eating, and within half an hour will be ready to mount. It will still be
dark then."
"And we must be off again as soon as we can see. Good coffee, Mulha.
You're a capital fellow! One wants something really hot on a morning
like this, for it must be nearly freezing."
Owen paced up and down as he ate his little breakfast, the cup of
coffee and the piece of cake or toast with which Europeans in the East
are wont to commence the day. He stamped his feet to restore the
circulation, and shivered, for the chill air before the rising of the
sun bit keenly. And as he paced to and fro his eye went ever and anon to
the busy scene about him. Some twenty native troopers, for the most part
still swathed in their blankets, for the native feels the chill air
even more than does the European, were bustling round and about the
half-dozen fires which blazed amongst the trees. Some were grooming
their horses, while others had already performed that duty and
were settling saddles and kit in right position. Stalwart and
soldierly-looking were these men, and as our hero inspected them he felt
proud--proud that he was part of the regiment to which they belonged,
and prouder still that he, Cornet Jones, of the 7th native cavalry, was
in full command of them. It was a red-letter day in his life, and he was
determined to make the most of his opportunity. For reward had come his
way, as the colonel of his corps had prophesied, and a special mission,
of some gravity, had been entrusted to him. It was on the second morning
following the magnificent victory at Assaye, when the camp and
surroundings were beginning to assume an orderly appearance, that a
trooper, one of the General's bodyguard, rode over to the lines of the
7th, and wending his way in amongst the horses and the tents, finally
drew up in front of the tent allocated for orderly-room work.
"From the General," he said, as he handed in a note.
The Colonel tore it open as he lifted his eyebrows in surprise, for it
was somewhat early for a message from headquarters, and there was little
stirring after the victory, Scindia and his men having taken themselves
away. Then he called loudly for his own orderly and gave him a message.
"Call the sahib, Cornet Jones," he said shortly, "and send him to me."
Ten minutes later our hero found himself outside the tent occupied by
General Wellesley, standing before that redoubtable officer and two
members of his staff. And once again Owen was filled with that
indescribable feeling approaching fear. For the General seemed to read
him as if he were a book, and before this man, whose name was destined
to become a household one throughout the civilised world, a humble
cornet, however high his spirits, was apt to feel immeasurably small and
insignificant. However, he managed to return the glance of the General
with his accustomed frankness, and a moment later was listening to his
words.
"We have to thank you, Mr. Jones, for the very valuable discovery which
you and your men made for us in locating Scindia," said the General
slowly. "But for that information, reaching me as it did in convenient
time, this campaign might have been greatly extended in this area. I am
informed also that you handled a troop of the 7th very well. In fact,
that you took them through one of the French-trained battalions, and
afterwards against a large force of horsemen. I note those acts while
telling you that such behaviour is only what I expect of every officer,
and indeed there is little doubt that at Assaye all under my command
behaved nobly. But your name has now been brought to me on more than one
occasion, and I must take some notice of that. You are young, but, I
understand, quite an old soldier now. It is too early for you to receive
the promotion which is your due, and I have therefore sent your name
forward in my despatches, recommending that you be gazetted to the rank
of captain, such gazette to date from the time when the despatch reaches
the Governor-General."
Owen breathed heavily. A mist rose in front of his eyes, while one of
his legs would insist on twitching, so that he had the utmost difficulty
in remaining strictly at attention. The General and his officers, as
they looked keenly at him, noticed that Cornet Jones's colour had
suddenly heightened, and that there was a little movement at the corner
of his sensitive mouth. They guessed that the information just imparted
had somewhat upset our hero. But they did not know that in the mist
still hanging before his eyes appeared the figure of the fine sergeant
who had fought for him when a boy, stalwart and gallant, the upholder of
all that was right, manly, and honourable, and beside his red tunic the
elegant form of Mr. Halbut, the powerful Director, his friend, who had
lifted him from the gutter, and who, standing aside to watch how he
fared, was ever ready with his encouragement. In a flash his words
occurred to Owen: "Let the lad rise by his own exertions. I will use no
personal interest, sergeant. If there is stuff in him, let him prove it
to us."
"I was saying that the gazette would date from the time of the
despatches reaching the Governor," said the General, after a little
pause, for he saw that Owen was distressed. "I also added that if His
Excellency were so minded--and I fully recommended the course--the
gazette might with fairness be antedated to the very day of Assaye. It
will be a matter of some three months perhaps before we have an answer,
and by then, Mr. Jones, you will be more experienced and able to bear
promotion. And now, I have something else to say."
He turned to his staff officer and took a map from him, which he placed
so that Owen could see it plainly. "This is Indore, Mr. Jones," he
continued. "That is where Holkar has his headquarters. No doubt you have
heard of him as a powerful chieftain, and robber, I might almost add. We
have fears that he will raid the possessions of the Company at any time,
and we desire to have information of his movements. You will obtain a
despatch from this office, and will ride to Indore. There you will see
this Mahratta chief, and amplify what I have said in the despatches. You
will be able to tell all that there is to say about the battle of
Assaye, and the sweeping defeat suffered by Scindia. When that task is
done you will ride on to General Lake, who is in the neighbourhood of
the city of Delhi, and will acquaint him with the progress of these
operations. That will do, thank you, Mr. Jones."
Owen followed the course of his journey on the map, saluted, and was
about to turn when the General arrested him with a movement of his
hand.
"You will understand that the mission is a difficult and delicate one,"
he said, still in the same even tones, as if speaking of an everyday
occurrence. "This Holkar is not to be trusted. He might murder an envoy
instead of welcoming him, and you will therefore carry your life in your
hands. I have chosen you for certain reasons, and because you speak the
Mahratta tongue. You may decline the task if you wish, for I could not
give a definite order for such a dangerous mission."
He turned on his heel, curtly acknowledging Owen's salute. But this
kind-hearted and brilliant general was an astute leader, as he had
already proved, and he knew to a nicety the gallant feelings which
filled Cornet Jones's breast, ay, and that of every officer in his
command. The mission was a dangerous one, and Owen had been selected
partly because of the reputation he had so early won and partly because
of his facility with the language. The General knew well enough that
this young officer, overrunning with zeal and enthusiasm, would have
accepted the most forlorn of forlorn hopes with eagerness.
"You say that the lad has shown shrewdness?" he asked his staff officer
as they entered the tent. "You have heard that said of him?"
"I have, sir," was the answer. "The Major who came out from home with
him told me of his little adventure in Sumatra, and of his well-devised
plan of escape. The lad started young, sir, and has seen much for his
age. A hard life when he was a mere boy sharpened his wits, and now
there is something more to spur him on and keep him up to the mark. He
has a friend at home whose commendation is more to him even than yours,
and you will see his object is to rise."
That was why Owen was away from the camp, and why the fires which he and
his men had lit were now out of sight of the army at Assaye. He had
twenty men and Mulha, and they were already beyond the reach of their
friends and traversing a country which was undoubtedly still occupied by
large bodies of the enemy. And their destination was Indore in the first
place, and afterwards the army under General Lake.
"Time to move," he said at last, as he walked to the edge of the wide
tope of trees and looked out into the open. "There comes the light, and
we want to make the utmost of it. To horse there. Mount!"
In a compact little body, their lances carried in the rest and their
pennons blowing out bravely in the breeze, the little force kept on its
way all that day, trotting a few miles and then walking their horses,
and halting to slacken girths every three hours, for to obtain the best
work from a horse he needs as much and more consideration than does the
rider. Owen was as yet somewhat strange to the management of horses, but
his men were masters with the animals, and thanks to their teaching he
had already commenced to learn that a careful rider is as mindful of his
mount's comfort as of his own. He will see that the bit fits well,
neither too tight nor too loose, that the saddle sits well down and does
not rest upon the prominent portions of the back, and if possible that
some sort of ventilation is obtained beneath the saddle. In a hot
country, too, where linings are apt to become saturated with use, and
where ridges and lumps are prone to form in consequence, the horseman
does well to inspect such matters constantly.
"It will take us a week to get to Indore, I calculate," said Owen that
evening as they made their camp in another convenient tope of trees, for
it was their aim and object to avoid observation. "That is, of course,
if we are not molested. I believe the General is of opinion that Scindia
will be anxious to make a truce. In fact, some of his vakeels were in
the camp the day after Assaye. But meanwhile we might be pounced upon,
and then we should be in a sorry plight if the enemy were very
numerous."
And so each night, as darkness closed down upon them, sentries were
posted at the edge of the trees, and Owen made a point of visiting them
twice at least during the night. At length, however, they arrived within
a few miles of Indore, and now that concealment was no longer necessary
they rode well in the open, and gaining a side road, turned from it into
a main thoroughfare which led to the city.
"There are horsemen, sahib," said Mulha suddenly, pointing towards the
city. "They are issuing from one of the gates, and I do not like their
manners. They would seem to be prepared to give us trouble."
"Then we shall have to ride on the alert," was Owen's answer. "I have an
important message for this Holkar, and it is very necessary that there
should be no blows between the horsemen and ourselves; for though they
are Mahrattas, they are not yet at war with us. We will tie a cloth to
one of the lances, and raise it as they get nearer."
Mulha at once went to the troopers, and very soon a huge white turban
was attached to one of the lances in place of the usual pennon.
"Now we will ride in close order," said Owen; for on the march
discipline had been relaxed, and the ranks were broken at times, men
jogging up beside one another to chat, and then on to another companion.
Now, however, they closed in, and, with Owen at their head and the man
with the white-pennoned lance just in rear of him, trotted on to Indore.
Meanwhile the horsemen who had appeared were joined by others who could
be seen streaming out through the gates of the city, and presently there
were a thousand at least of them.
"A dangerous-looking lot," thought Owen as he rode along. "They seem to
me to be the class of soldiers who ask few questions before commencing
an attack, and leave explanation till afterwards. However, I will see
that there is no room for error."
He beckoned to the man with the white pennon, and directed him to ride a
few paces in advance.
"You will hoist your flag now," he said, "and if they do not heed it you
will retire to the men and fall into your place."
A quarter of an hour later the body of Mahratta horse had approached to
close quarters, and when within some three hundred yards a shout burst
from their ranks and they flourished their arms in the air. Then smoke
belched from the mass, and a score of bullets swept over the heads of
Owen's troopers.
"Wave the flag," shouted our hero, beginning to feel a little anxious,
for the firing still continued, and one of the horses pawed the air and
rose on his hind legs, having been struck by one of the missiles.
"Unsling your carbines, men, but do not fire. If they push us we will
answer, but I wish to enter the town in friendship. Ah, there is their
officer!"
The firing ceased as the troopers drew their carbines from the buckets,
and a horseman was seen to canter out from the ranks of the Mahrattas.
He raised his hand in the air, and then waved it to either side,
shouting an order the meaning of which could not be ascertained at that
distance. At once there was a movement amongst the Mahrattas and they
broke into two parties, those on the flanks galloping off with many a
shout, waving their arms in the air, and looking altogether very
formidable.
"Going to surround us," said Owen to Mulha as the latter came up beside
him. "They look an ugly lot of fellows, and could easily cut us to
pieces."
"And no doubt would do so if they were not to distinguish a white sahib
amongst us," was the answer. "These men and their ruler have caused
tales to spread throughout the land. They are fierce and treacherous,
and it is said that they will rob and slay friend and foe alike. Also,
sahib, it is said that no Mahratta's word is of more weight than is a
feather. I fear this Holkar, and shall be glad when we are out of his
territories."
Holding up his hand, our hero brought his little party to a halt, while
the Mahrattas, galloping like the wind, surrounded them, and then came
to a halt within some hundred yards. And a very forbidding and
formidable lot they looked. As Owen gazed at them anxiously, for it
appeared as if at any time they might ride over his small command, he
could not help admiring the easy seat of these robbers, for Holkar's
horse were little better. The men seemed to be a part of the animals
they rode, while they had added to their appearance by the richness of
their dress. There was no standard uniform amongst these troopers. They
wore what they wished, and in consequence the ring about Owen and his
party displayed many a brilliant colour. In many cases turbans were
discarded for metal head-pieces of Eastern design and workmanship, while
not a few wore chain-mail over their necks and shoulders. Then, too,
their arms were of every pattern, some having the carbine, a great
number lances, while all may be said to have carried tulwars.
"Truly a formidable host, sahib," whispered Mulha as he looked askance
at the Mahrattas. "And yet they are no more in numbers than those
horsemen against whom you and your troop charged at Assaye. Look at your
men. They are uneasy, and yet they bear themselves proudly. They are
commanded by Jones Sahib, and they are content."
Indeed, it needed but a glance at the troopers to show that, although
they were not entirely sanguine as to the result of this encounter, yet
they had confidence in their youthful leader; for, as the shouts of the
Mahrattas rose and some few slipped from their horses with the evident
intention of firing at the central party, the eyes of the troopers went
to Owen's face and figure, and then back again, with undaunted mien, to
the surrounding horsemen. Such is the power which a European of Owen's
stamp, and however youthful, has over the native. But matters were again
approaching a critical stage, and as the strangers seemed to take but
little notice of the white pennon, Owen without hesitation rode out from
amongst his men and trotted towards the officer who had given the order
which had caused the Mahrattas to divide. He was a magnificently dressed
native, swarthy as any, and wearing a glittering aigrette in his turban.
The hilt of his tulwar flashed as he turned to Owen, while ever and
again there was a scintillation from some portion of his dress as the
sun's rays struck there. He halted and watched Owen as if in uncertain
mind. Then he called out an order, and at his command a dozen of his men
galloped up beside him, and the whole party advanced to meet the white
officer.
"Greeting," said Owen in the Mahratta tongue. "I come from His
Excellency to your chief. What means this firing? Is not the flag of
peace easily seen, and are we not on friendly terms with your ruler?
Answer. What means the firing?"
For answer the leader of the horsemen shot his tulwar back into its
sheath with a click, and then advanced still nearer.
"Holkar makes no explanation of what seems good to him," he said
haughtily. "He sent me here to kill or capture. You are prisoners. You
will return with me."
"On certain terms," answered Owen curtly, "and see that you consider
them well, for what has befallen Scindia and his hosts may yet befall
you and your men. I am no prisoner. I came as His Excellency the
General's vakeel, and I and my men will ride into the city, escorted if
you will, but free, carrying our arms, and at liberty to depart when our
business is done."
"High tones for one who has so few to back his wishes," sneered the
native, casting his eye in the direction of the troopers. "What if we
who are so many as to be able to eat you up, to ride over you and leave
no trace of your having been, decide to conduct you to the city as
prisoners? That were a great fall for the pride of a white officer."
Owen shrugged his shoulders, and made a movement to turn his horse.
"We have met and vanquished almost as many before," he said with as much
coolness as he could muster, "and we will try again. If one shot rings
out from your ranks I will charge, and you will see who is the better
able to ride over the other. As for you, if you decide to carry out this
threat I promise that even your chieftain shall not protect you, for,
remember, I am an envoy, and I come in peace, beneath the white flag,
which is sacred to us all."
Without deigning to turn his head he trotted back to his men, and at his
order the carbines were slipped into their buckets and the lances came
down in readiness for a charge.
"I do not greatly fear trouble," he said shortly, so that they alone
could hear. "But these fellows may wish to take us prisoners. In that
case you will charge, and divide when you are through them. Then you
will return and repeat the charge. It would never do to flee, for we
should all be cut down for a certainty."
For five minutes the two bodies faced one another, Owen's troopers
staring back at the Mahrattas with a calmness which was wonderful. And
as they looked they edged their horses into line and selected a likely
place for their charge.
To Owen the minutes went like hours, for he had a mission to carry out,
and to come to blows with Holkar's men thus early was hardly conducting
his task in a successful manner. To oppose these men was madness, and
yet if he submitted to be taken a prisoner into Indore he knew very well
that he would in all probability be thrown into a cell and there left,
without opportunity of seeing Holkar. His hand went to his sabre, and he
drew it, resting the blade against his shoulder. And while he and his
men made their preparations, the native officer consulted with some of
his men. Noisy shouts broke from their midst, and weapons were
flourished. However, the threat of retaliation to which Owen had given
vent evidently had its effect, for presently the officer advanced and
called to our hero.
"Holkar shall decide," he said haughtily. "We might eat you up here,
but there may be information to be obtained. We will escort you into the
city."
"To the palace?" demanded Owen.
"To the palace. There you shall be seen by His Highness."
A few minutes later the whole cavalcade was in motion, Owen and his men
riding in a compact body, while the Mahratta horse, still divided,
marched in front and in rear, completely enclosing them. And in this
order they came to the city of Indore, the capital of Holkar, and passed
through the streets to the palace. Arrived there, Owen and his men
dismounted in the courtyard.
"I like not the arrangement, sahib," whispered Mulha. "They have us in
the hollow of their hands, for how can we escape from this city? See the
guards which they have set."
"We are virtually prisoners, but I have no fears for the future, Mulha.
This fellow, Holkar, must respect the General's messenger and the escort
sent with him. I know he has none too good a name, but then he would
hardly dare to offer violence to us. In any case, we are here, and can
take no more precautions than we have done. But keep a careful watch and
be alert, whatever happens."
A moment or two later the officer who had escorted Owen into the city
emerged from the palace with a gleam of malice on his face, and beckoned
to him.
"Follow me," he said curtly. "His Highness will see you. Take care that
you salaam to him."
"And see that you look to your own affairs, my friend," answered Owen.
"Now lead the way."
They traversed a number of passages and sumptuous apartments, and
finally came to one which was gorgeously decorated. And here, surrounded
by servants, pillowed in the lap of luxury, and reclining upon a divan,
was Holkar, showing upon his scarred and seamed face the effects of the
changing fortunes which had been his. He had but one eye, but that
served him to some purpose, for he fixed it upon his visitor and gave
him the benefit of a piercing gaze. Owen bowed, and at once handed the
despatch he had brought.
"From His Excellency General Wellesley, in command of the army in the
field," he said. "He begs me to give you his greetings, and to convey to
you this despatch."
Holkar acknowledged his bow coldly, and then tore open the despatch,
which was written in Mahratti. Owen saw him give a violent start of
surprise as he read of the victory of Assaye. He looked up sharply,
pondered for a minute, and then smiled scornfully.
"This great victory your general writes of," he said at length, when the
despatch was ended, "these were Scindia's troops who were beaten,
cowards whom I have swept from before my path on many an occasion. Had
they been the men whom I command there would have been a different tale.
What does your general desire? Why does he trouble me by sending an
envoy?"
Owen noted his haughty tones, and felt even more apprehension. But he
had had very complete instructions, and he endeavoured to carry them
out, showing that the victory had been indeed a very real one, and that
General Wellesley was anxious to assure a friendship with Holkar. It was
a case for diplomacy, and Owen did his utmost. But though this powerful
chieftain answered politely, his tones were of the haughtiest, and as
Owen withdrew he felt sure that the friendship then existing between
Holkar and the British was but a thing of straw, and that this chieftain
only awaited a favourable day for breaking it. A few minutes later he
was equally certain of another matter. As he came to the door of the
palace Mulha met him, with consternation written on his face.
"It is as I said, sahib," he cried. "No sooner had you passed in when a
force of foot-soldiers marched into this square, and when they parted
there were guns fully loaded and trained on the troopers. They were
forced to dismount, their horses were led away, and they themselves were
disarmed and marched out of the courtyard by the soldiers."
Owen was flabbergasted. He had hardly expected such high-handed action,
though every minute had increased his anxiety as to the safety of his
little command. He swung round without a word, with the intention of
forcing his way to Holkar's presence. But as he did so some thirty
soldiers issued from a door close at hand and rushed at him. Resistance
was useless, and folding his arms he allowed the men to take him. Ten
minutes later he was thrust into a cell high up in one of the wings of
the palace, and heard the bolts shot to after him. He was a prisoner.
Holkar, the treacherous and cruel chieftain, had him in his power, and
with an involuntary shudder our hero realised the gravity of his
position.