"Your lofty faith and devotion, my son, move me deeply. The heroic
spirit of my brother Raee seems once more to incite me to deeds of
daring which in these degenerate days would alas be vain."
So spoke Lehna Singh in the midst of luxury and splendour that had been
amassed in no hazardous career of adventure or enterprise, but by
methods of coldest calculation and avarice. His listeners were his
nephew, whom he addressed, and the Rajah Lal Singh, chief favourite of
the notorious Ranee, a man of cringing and servile demeanour,
notwithstanding his rank, whose crafty smile followed the speaker's
words as he scrutinized the countenance of Atmâ, as if to learn their
effect. The apartment in which they sat was an inner chamber, small,
secluded, and silent, for the fame of Lal, lately Wuzeer to the little
Maharajah, but for grave offences disgraced and removed from Lahore, was
such as to demand caution on the part of those who would consort with
him.
"Before I can explain to you," proceeded Lehna, "the last words of my
departed brother, I have a tale to unfold, a tale which will reveal to
you in how high a degree your coming has been opportune. In these
troubled days a loyal, brave, and trusty friend of the Khalsa is far to
seek, and it is in quest of such a one that my honoured guest Rajah Lal
Singh has, in the face of much peril, come to me from the Maharanee, now
at Feragpore, whither she was sent by Purwunnah, under seal of her
infant son, the Maharajah, thus made in tender years the instrument of
his mother's disgrace. But on the cruel affronts of our enemies I need
not dwell. These things are known to all. The plans which I am about to
reveal to you, Atmâ Singh relate to the future, and speak not of
disgrace, but of hope; know that in the treasures of Runjeet Singh there
was one jewel--a sapphire--of magical property. To its holder it ensured
success in war. This jewel, the late Maharajah received from my hands.
It was a family heirloom, and descended to your father, the eldest son
of our house, through countless generations. Being, when we were both
young, in sore straits, and hard pressed for money, he parted with this
talisman to me, on condition that after his death I should return it to
his eldest surviving son. You may guess the poignancy of the grief with
which I tell you then that this heirloom is no longer mine. Many years
ago I gave it into the hands of Runjeet Singh for a time, in the belief
that its potency would aid our national fortunes" (what equivalent Lehna
received, he doubtless deemed it irrelevant to state). "The brilliancy
of his career attests its worth. It should have been long ago restored
to me, but my efforts to regain it were repeatedly baffled, until I was
fain to content myself with the reflection that at least it served the
cause, and to trust in the future for its recovery. Believing it to be
in the treasury at Lahore, and firmly believing in its potency, those of
us who knew of its existence never abandoned hope until its
disappearance was, alas! ascertained beyond a doubt. To such, each
defeat of the Khalsa caused amazement deeper than consternation. The
overthrow of the Sikh power seemed a thing incredible until the recent
confiscation and plunder of the treasuries, when it became certain to
other vigilant onlookers as well as to myself that the Sapphire of Fate
was not in the possession of the true rulers of the Punjaub at the time
of their downfall. Contrast the victorious progress of the Lion of the
Punjaub with the fallen fortunes of his family, when robbed of what we
now believe to be the talisman of his fortunes. Not only does the Ranee
believe that the recovery of this gem will ensure the prosperity of the
descendants of Runjeet Singh, but I do firmly believe that its
re-possession will rally the Sikh forces to form again a conquering
faith. Son of Raee, have you the courage to serve the Ranee, to regain
this, your inheritance, and in obedience to your father's dying words,
to devote it and your own life to a fallen house, whose foes are the
foes of the Khalsa?"
Atmâ remained silent during some minutes, plunged in thought, and
unconscious of the anxious scrutiny of his companions, who, bending
forward, awaited his reply in breathless suspense. It was a shock to
know that the heritage which was certainly his had passed from the
guardianship of the kinsman to whom it had been entrusted, and
indignation mingled with gentler reflections. He had not known the story
of the Sapphire, and his thoughts reverted to his father, the meaning of
whose reticence on a subject, which must have been full of humiliation
and pain, his son sadly divined, and recalling his dying words,
indelibly printed on his memory, he felt his high commission to be again
renewed and vivified. Perhaps the gentle image of Moti, ever present to
fond imagination, dispelled the rising clouds of distrust and
resentment, and bade him meet her father's demand with response of like
spirit. So now recalling the ingenuous emotion which had glowed in his
face during Lehna's tragic account of the recent career of Junda Kowr,
he asked where the Sapphire of Fate was to be found.
"At the Court of Golab Singh," replied his uncle, dramatically. "Golab
Singh, once a horseman in the employ of Runjeet Singh, now by British
machinations usurper of the crown of Kashmir. If you, Atmâ, are a true
and faithful adherent of the Khalsa, you will thither repair as an envoy
of the Maharanee, and will count her reward lightly won by danger
encountered for the faith."
"Inform her highness of my instant readiness to perform her request,"
replied Atmâ.
Happiness overspread the countenance of Lehna. With a gentle sigh of
relief, he abandoned the heroic and magnanimous strain in which his
speech had flown, and which to so acute and wary a man of affairs was
perhaps unfamiliar. He exchanged a glance of satisfaction with the
Rajah, who leaned back among his silken cushions in an attitude of
greater comfort than he had allowed to himself during the preceding
anxious half-hour.
It only remained to instruct the young Sikh as to the course and manner
of his journey, which was to be first to Ferazpore to receive the
commands of Junda Kowr, thence to Jummoo, where Golab Singh, the
recently appointed ruler of Kashmir, held his brilliant court.
These matters satisfactorily arranged, Rajah Lal with stately ceremony
took his leave, and Atmâ found himself alone with his kinsman, who
proceeded to matters of not less interest.
"I am honoured," he said, "by your proposed alliance with my house," for
Atmâ had disclosed to her father his love for Moti. "I am honoured and
deeply moved; but I defer this consummation of my cherished wish until
all may know that among many suitors, I chose, to be the husband of my
only child, a leal soldier of the Khalsa. But your high nature will, I
perceive, count this prize lightly won by peril endured for the Khalsa.
You go to-morrow to Ferazpore, where you will meet again Rajah Lal, who
has perhaps more influence with our clever Ranee than many a better man.
He repairs thither this evening, and will no doubt prepare for you a
favourable reception, and you will," he added, laughing, "in all
probability be received with the overflowing kindness and unveiled
confidence which our British friends deprecate!"
This covert allusion was not understood by the young Sikh, in whose
thoughts all men were valiant and all women fair and good. But he
experienced a shade of annoyance on learning that he must owe anything
to the good offices of Lal Singh. An echo seemed to sound faint and far
as in a dream; "Rajah Lal," it seemed to say, "means to pluck the Rose
of Lehna Singh's garden."