THE MILD CONCERNS OF ORDINARY LIFE.
All too soon came the hour when Gerrard stood on the dilapidated
landing-stage at Naoghat, and waved farewell to his travelling
companions, after receiving Nisbet's urgent directions to send on at
once any despatches that might arrive while he remained there, and
Cowper's parting request to give his compliments to the old Habshi.
This disrespectful term applied to Nawab Sadiq Ali, who traced his
descent to a famous naval commander, a Habshi or Abyssinian, in the
service of one of the Mogul Emperors. So much did the Badshah
appreciate the society of his admiral that he grudged him to the sea,
but compromised matters by bestowing on him a _jaghir_ with a river
frontage, which the Habshi's descendants, in the break-up of the
empire, contrived to erect into the independent state of Habshiabad.
Sadiq Ali was proud to reckon himself an old ally of the British, his
father having stood fast by them during the Mahratta troubles of the
early years of the nineteenth century, and a hostility equally ancient
existed between him and his Granthi neighbours across the Bari, more
especially those in Agpur. Partab Singh and he had enjoyed many a
sharp tussle before they relapsed into reluctant peace, owing to the
fact that their forces were so nearly matched as to render it useless
for either to attack the other, and to the absence of border fighting
during late years the Kawab attributed the deterioration observable in
the spirit of his subjects. A kind of dry-rot appeared to have set in,
under the influence of which the state was suffering, not only in
military, but also in civil matters, and this had culminated in a
regrettable incident which had only recently occurred.
When the Granthi War broke out, Sadiq Ali, equally unexpected and
undesired, hastened to join the banners of the Commander-in-Chief with
his horde of undisciplined followers, never doubting that he would be
received with the delight such an accession of strength would have
caused forty years before. But the military affairs of British India
were differently organised nowadays, and native princes as allies were
regarded with disappointing indifference, so that the bad condition of
the Nawab's troops, rather than the good feeling he had displayed,
attracted attention. When at a critical moment the advance of a
British brigade was delayed by the Habshiabadis' plundering in its
front, the Commander-in-Chief, who had learnt his soldiering in the
Peninsula, lost his temper and swore at Sadiq Ali--who understood his
meaning, if not his words--and threatened to clear his men out of the
way with grape. The insulted Nawab withdrew his troops at once, and
was making the best of his way with them to the enemy's camp, when he
was overtaken by Major Edmund Antony, who, foreseeing the danger that
would be caused by his defection, took upon himself the responsibility
of speaking him fair and persuading him to delay. No other man in
India could have induced Sadiq Ali to consent to spoil the effect of
his dramatic reprisals by encamping for one night instead of carrying
his indignation and his army over immediately to his hereditary
enemies. Even the political officer whom all natives revered was
obliged to take his stand alone before the advancing cavalry, and to
warn the Nawab that if he joined the Granthi headquarters that night,
it must be over his body, but he succeeded in his mission. The tents
were pitched, and all night Major Antony rode backwards and forwards
between the two peppery veterans, each of whom began by vowing that he
was well pleased to see the last of the other, and would never exchange
a word with him again. Since they both assured Major Antony that he
was the sole human being they would have permitted to address a
remonstrance to them on the subject, it was clear that they were agreed
on one point, and the emissary laboured, not without success, to extend
the area of agreement. With what every one in the British camp averred
was superhuman ingenuity, he induced the Commander-in-Chief to
apologise for his language, and to soothe the Nawab's wounded feelings
by a reference in general orders, while Sadiq Ali voluntarily placed a
body of picked troops under British command, and withdrew with the rest
to his state. In the moment of his success Major Antony held out hopes
that an officer might eventually be spared to reorganise and train the
Habshiabad army, and since he had been at Ranjitgarh Sadiq Ali had
reminded him of his promise at least five times before he had any one
to send. Now at last Gerrard was available, and a deputation of high
officials received him at Naoghat to express the Nawab's delight in his
arrival.
Sadiq Ali's impatience to behold his new adviser could scarcely brook
the delay caused by waiting for the escort to come up, and Gerrard
became accustomed to the sight of exhausted messengers clattering in in
clouds of dust to demand that he should start at once. But his dignity
as Sir Edmund Antony's representative forbade this, and when he rode
into Habshiabad at last it was in the midst of his picked troop of
Granthis, who were obviously scornful of the military display with
which the Nawab was prepared to welcome them. In his anxiety to
improve his army, poor old Sadiq Ali had handed it over of late to a
drunken European adventurer, who asserted that he had been in Ajit
Singh's service, but whom Gerrard suspected, from certain peculiarities
of equipment that he had introduced, of being a deserter from some
Scottish regiment. This suspicion was deepened when it appeared that
General Desdichado, as he called himself, had recently been seized with
illness of such a severe character that it confined him entirely to his
house, and even to his zenana--whither, of course, no intrusive visitor
could follow him. After vain attempts to obtain an interview, Gerrard
thought it well to leave his predecessor in peace with his
arrack-bottle, and take the army in hand from the beginning. He had
not expected, when he heard they had a European instructor, to find
them ignorant even of the rudiments of drill as he understood it, and
he was confronted with the difficulty that he could not possibly drill
them all himself, and nothing would induce them to take orders from any
of his Granthis. He thought of asking for a few Mohammedan
non-commissioned officers from the force at Ranjitgarh, but before he
could do so, Sadiq Ali, who followed him about in a state of admiring
wonder and affection, learned his difficulty and promised to meet it.
Gerrard had no very high hopes in this direction when he appeared at
the grand review arranged in honour of Queen Victoria's birthday, and
attended by all the Nawab's subsidiary chiefs and their followers as
well as by his own army, but his eye was quickly caught by a large body
of mounted men whose ordered movements contrasted strongly with the
free and easy methods of the Habshiabadis. There was something
familiar in the aspect of the leader, and when he rode past the
saluting-point Gerrard recognised him at once. It was Rukn-ud-din, and
of the two companies which he led one was composed of Rajputs, and the
other of the faithful remnant of the Agpur bodyguard. Sadiq Ali smiled
to behold his ally's surprise, but declined mysteriously to say what
Rukn-ud-din and his men were doing on his parade-ground. Jirad Sahib
would doubtless wish to make inquiries for himself, he said, and
Komadan Rukn-ud-din had already asked leave to pay his respects to him.
In the interval between the review and the banquet which was to wind up
the day, therefore, a gorgeous band of horsemen thronged the approach
to Gerrard's quarters, and Rukn-ud-din presented his officers, the
chief of whom was the Rajput Amrodh Chand, who was a cousin of the
Rani's. Gerrard touched the sword-hilts they held forth, entertained
them with coffee and conversation of a strictly non-committal
character, and then withdrew from the verandah into his office for a
few moments' confidential talk with their leader.
"You are surely not one of the Nawab's Komadans, Rukn-ud-din?" he asked
him eagerly.
"Nay, sahib. I still eat the salt of the widow of my master."
"Then it is the Rani Sahiba who is entertaining these troops of yours?
But is she not far away?"
"So far away as to be between this place and the river that parts it
from Agpur, sahib."
"This is very serious." It was quite certain that Mr James Antony
would not approve of the Rani's taking up her residence so close to her
former capital, when she was supposed to be at Benares. "You know that
I must report it to the Resident Sahib at Ranjitgarh?"
"Your honour will do as it is decreed you should do," said the
Mohammedan tranquilly.
"But what is her Highness's object?"
"To avenge the blood of her house, sahib. She devotes herself wholly
to the practice of austerities, after the manner of the idolaters. The
women say that to behold her is to behold the corpse of one that has
died in famine-time."
"You cannot mean that she is wholly destitute? Yet what is she living
upon? Her allowance has not been paid to her, because she has not
subscribed to the conditions upon which it was granted."
"Her Highness will never subscribe to those conditions, sahib. She
will neither receive money at the hand of the murderer, nor covenant to
bequeath him a single anna that she possesses. For her maintenance,
she received from Antni Sahib's brother at Ranjitgarh the ten thousand
rupees your honour carried with you to Adamkot from the treasury, and
of his grace he added to them, by way of an advance, a sum sufficient
to enable her to perform her pilgrimage to Kashi." Gerrard suppressed
a smile when he realised that James Antony's eagerness to avert
political complications by getting the Rani safely out of Granthistan
had thus over-reached itself by giving her the means of remaining on
its borders. "The sum was not a great one, to maintain the warriors
from her father's state who have vowed their swords to her vengeance,
as well as those who have remained faithful to their lord's memory, but
it will suffice for a month or two longer," added Rukn-ud-din; "and it
is the word of her Highness that this will be long enough. The time is
near at hand."
"Will her Highness receive me?" asked Gerrard hastily, planning strong
remonstrances in his mind. "You say she has returned to _pardah_?"
"She broke _pardah_ once, sahib, designing to expiate her shame when
she had seen justice done, but death and justice were alike denied her.
She will break it again when she leads her troops in the field against
the murderer, and that day she will rejoin her lord."
"Now look here, Rukn-ud-din; you are a sensible man and a follower of
Islam. I want you to do your best to induce her Highness to allow me
to pay my respects through the curtain, so that I may try to get her to
lay aside these intentions."
"How could she do other than as she plans, sahib? It is well for each
to observe the customs of his own people. But I have a word for you
from her Highness's mouth. 'Entreat Jirad Sahib not to give me the
pain of shutting my gates against him, for I have no mind to be teased
with formulas of ceremony. But when he takes the field against him
that may not be named, then let him send for me without apology, and I
will come at the head of my troops. Until then let him use them as he
will in fitting the Nawab's army for the fight.'"
"And right glad I should be to have you," said Gerrard heartily. "But
I cannot keep the Rani's residence a secret from Antony Sahib and his
brother. At any moment Sher Singh may discover it, and accuse them,
though guiltless, of playing him false."
"I think he will not discover it, sahib. We have a short way with
spies in Habshiabad. But your honour will do as you think best, and
the men of my company are at your disposal to do with as you will."
The question was a perplexing one, and after dismissing Rukn-ud-din,
Gerrard considered it carefully. He decided at last to write to James
Antony that it had come to his knowledge that the Rani was residing in
the Habshiabad state, and that he could if necessary convey to her the
documents awaiting her signature, though she refused to admit him to
her presence. Having thus transferred the burden of responsibility to
other and eminently capable shoulders, he turned with an easier
conscience to take advantage of the help offered him in his task. On
the very day after the review, Sadiq Ali's regiments, some swollen to
unwieldy size, others depleted to mere skeletons, were thoroughly
overhauled, and the ten smartest men picked out of each hundred. These
were turned over to Rukn-ud-din's Mohammedans to be drilled, and after
a preliminary course set to drill their fellows. The higher education
of the picked men proceeded side by side with the elementary training
of the rank and file, while Gerrard's Granthis and the Rani's Rajputs,
debarred from serving as instructors, proved most useful in
representing alternately hostile armies and better disciplined allies,
when something resembling manoeuvres was attempted. The work was hard
and incessant, especially as the hot weather was now running its
course, but Gerrard welcomed it as tending to divert his mind from the
unsatisfactory state of his personal affairs. The Nawab was overjoyed
to see his army really being licked into shape, and took to attending
the training in disguise--invariably discovering himself by frantic
abuse and promises of horrible punishment when anything went wrong.
Even General Desdichado, still officially confined to his bed and
unable to receive even a visit of condolence, mounted a telescope on
his roof, so it was whispered to Gerrard, and watched the proceedings
with breathless interest. This war-fever could hardly last, and
Gerrard wondered when it would begin to die down. The expected
outbreak at Agpur had not occurred, and in a short time Cowper's leave
would be up and another man would take his place as commander of the
escort. Both James Antony's political forebodings and the Rani's
prophecies were proving unfounded.
Now came a messenger with a letter from Charteris, written in that
extreme south-western corner of his dominions where Darwan and
Habshiabad faced one another across the Tindar.
"Here I am, old boy, gazing hungrily across to you, while Tindar rolls
between. Come and pay me a flying visit, I adjure you. You shall
sleep each night on your own bank of the river if your scrupulous
conscience won't let you quit your own state without leave, but take
pity on an unfortunate chum doomed to go crusading--castle-destroying,
that is--in the hot weather. I promised you one of Vixen's pups--as
nice little beggars all of them as you could wish to behold--and who am
I to presume to choose for you? I am entertaining so many dogs
nowadays that I expect to be eaten out of house and home, so it's
serious, you see. Happy thought--start a pack of hounds! That's
another reason why you should come. I can't offer to show you at the
present season 'the sport of kings, the image of war without its guilt,
and only five-and-twenty per cent. of its danger,' but at least we can
draw up an uncommon fine constitution for the hunt. I know you'll
object that the conjunction of two such stars of chivalry as yourself
and yours truly in the same firmament has hitherto boded war, red war,
but was that our fault? Surely it was merely a proof of our innate
foreknowledge of events that we managed to be in each other's
neighbourhood just when united action was needed. Besides, there's no
combustible material in these parts. That's waiting for the week after
next, when the Agpur frontier business comes up for settlement, and I
have to be back in the Adamkot direction. Come and see me, Hal, if
it's only for a talk and a smoke. Upon my word, I am des-s-s-perately
lonely! Bring a tail as long as MacTavish's if you like, and we'll
indoctrinate them with the science of fox-hunting. Your old Hubshee
would be something of a Jorrocks figure if we stuck him into a hunt
uniform, I'll be bound,--Yours,
ROBERT.
"_P.S._--Admire my self-restraint in keeping back so far the
all-important information that mine will of course be a _Bobbery_ pack."
Neither his friend's pathetic loneliness, nor the inducements he so
lavishly offered, would have tempted Gerrard to leave the capital had
it not been that he had ascertained from the Nawab that the _jaghir_
which he had granted to Rukn-ud-din as the Rani's representative lay in
the direction in which Charteris was now to be found. James Antony had
replied with considerable asperity to the letter giving news of her
whereabouts, as was only natural, since his agents had for a month been
searching for her vainly in the neighbourhood of Benares. He sent the
document which had been prepared for her signature, and directed
Gerrard to use all possible means to obtain a personal interview, in
which he was to assure her that no further steps would be taken to
secure the payment of her jointure until she disbanded her troops and
withdrew into British territory, where a suitable residence would be
provided for her. This, as the natives would have phrased it, was an
order, and Gerrard prepared to carry it out immediately, though without
much hope of success. The Nawab acquiesced reluctantly in his leaving
the city for a week, but was consoled by the prospect of his finding a
noticeable improvement in the army on his return, and he calculated
that by travelling chiefly at night he could do the journey
comfortably, and secure a day or more with Charteris.
The Rani's reception of Mr Antony's messenger was much what he had
expected. She had taken up her abode in a half-ruined fort, which had
been repaired sufficiently for the purposes of defence, and was
garrisoned by a second company of Rajputs, and Gerrard was refused
admission at the closed gates. His urgent messages brought the old
scribe down to parley with him, but the reproaches he addressed to the
Rani for neglecting the monitions of her husband's chosen councillor
were met by counter-upbraidings on the score of his neglect of the
Rani's own expressed wish to be left unmolested. She would not receive
him, she would not disband her troops nor retire into British
territory, and least of all would she sign the document which was to
obtain from Sher Singh the payment of her jointure in return for her
promise to leave to him any savings of which she might die possessed.
In these circumstances, all that Gerrard could do was to leave the
paper for her consideration, with the most persuasive letter that he
and Munshi Somwar Mal could frame in collaboration, and announce that
he hoped to find her Highness in a better mind when he returned in
three or four days' time.
If his reception here was disappointing, there was nothing lacking in
the warmth of Charteris's welcome when he landed at his camp from the
undignified conveyance of a charpoy supported on _mashaks_[1]--a small
fleet of these vessels being in readiness to carry him and his train
across the river. The puppies were duly exhibited after supper, and
Gerrard made his choice, and then, though it was still early, for the
crossing had to be made by daylight, Charteris dismissed him to sleep
off his fatigues, promising that he should be called well in the middle
of the night.
"To-morrow is a blank day as far as the administration of justice is
concerned," he said. "I have threatened all my petitioners with
atrocious pains and penalties if they so much as show their noses in
camp, and you and I will go for a picnic. I know a bank where the wild
thyme don't grow, but where one of my reformed robbers has a garden and
a spring of sweet water, and will make us welcome to enjoy _kaf_[2] for
a while."
Gerrard had his doubts as to the feasibility of this programme when he
was dressing the next morning by the light of a candle-end stuck into
the neck of a bottle. A whisper outside the tent reached his ears.
"Brother, is the Sahib awake?"
"Which Sahib, O foolish one?"
"Our Sahib, the red Sahib, the mad Sahib."
"Aye, he is awake, but he rides forth before dawn."
"Bad for Bob!" thought Gerrard, as a rustle denoted the withdrawal of
the questioner, but he had not the heart to tell his friend of his
fears when they met for _choti haziri_, and he saw his high spirits.
"We'll take the dogs with us a little way--do the beggars no end of
good--and send 'em back to camp before the sun's up," said Charteris,
as they mounted. "'Give the hounds a trot out by way of exercise'--eh?"
"Well, I hope it won't end in 'Dinner lost! 'ounds lost! self lost--all
lost together!' What d'ye think of calling the hunt, old boy?"
"The Cut-'em-downs, if you're going to ride over my hounds," said
Charteris, as a heedless puppy blundered in front of Gerrard's horse.
"And call you Crasher."
"All right, Brusher!" laughed Gerrard, as they rode out into the cool
darkness, an anxious dog-boy having extricated his charge. But before
they reached the outskirts of the camp, the way was barred by a row of
silent natives, some of them holding out papers, others extending empty
hands.
"What's this?" demanded Charteris ferociously.
"_Dohai_, sahib, _dohai_[3]!" was the general cry.
"Well, I'll do you justice to-morrow, as I told you. Didn't I forbid
you to come to me to-day?"
"Alas, sahib, a day is but as a moment to the great, but to the poor it
is even as eternity," said an old man, who seemed to be regarded as
spokesman.
"It would be a different tale if I wanted you to do anything for me in
a hurry," growled Charteris. "What do you say, Hal?"
"Oh, you have spoilt your subjects by dealing out justice too easily,"
said Gerrard, "so you can't in conscience refuse it them now. Let us
have our ride, and go back at your usual hour. The picnic must go.
You can accommodate me with a seat on the bench, and I'll pick holes in
your law."
"That you may well do." Charteris paused to give the necessary
directions to the suppliants and his Munshis, and resumed as they rode
on. "My law has too much common-sense about it to recommend itself to
your conventional mind. Why, t'other day I had to decide the ownership
of a disputed piece of ground--as hard swearing as ever I heard, and
trains of mounted adherents and sympathisers riding with us to view the
plot, and perjuring themselves for their respective sides. I saw it
was six of one and half-a-dozen of t'other, so when we were returning,
precious slow and stately, I gave a sudden view-halloa! and started
off. They were bound to come too, and I should have died of laughing
to see those old liars bumping along and running foul of one another if
I hadn't been too busy. I had the claimants one on each side of me,
and by judiciously boring either quad. when it seemed inclined to draw
ahead, I kept 'em fairly level. When they had had as much as I thought
good for them, I pulled up, and several old codgers went over their
nags' heads, of course. But all I said was that as the claimants had
come in level, it was clear the land was to be divided between them,
and we went back and did it there and then. They had a shawl apiece to
sweeten the bargain, and I made a feast for the hangers-on, so
everybody was pleased."
"That's the sort of thing that makes them call you the mad sahib," said
Gerrard. "Wonder they care to depend on you."
"That's only because you forget that 'mad' don't mean the same to them
as to us. All Sahibs are mad, of course--and say that I am a little
madder than most. But all mad people are directly inspired by Heaven.
Therefore the madder I am, the more surely am I inspired. Twig?"
"It's a pretty deduction. I wonder if Sadiq Ali would set me down as
inspired if I stood on my head before him when I go back?"
"No, because you couldn't do it!" said Charteris wickedly. "Takes some
practice even to be effectively mad, my boy."
Whereupon Gerrard rode at him with upraised whip, and sensible
conversation was at a discount until they returned to camp. Then the
long hot morning was devoted to hearing petitions and trying cases.
Charteris and Gerrard sat in one of the tents, with the complainants
under the awning before them, and the Munshis on the ground at the
side, while the witnesses perjured themselves and contradicted each
other with equal gusto. In the course of the proceedings a panting
messenger pushed his way through the throng carrying a red official
bag, the colour showing that the letter it contained was urgent.
Charteris opened it, and it seemed to Gerrard that his tanned face
paled ever so little as he read. Then he looked up sharply at the
messenger, whose eyes were fixed eagerly upon him.
"Sit down in the corner there, and wait until this case is finished,"
he said. "Hal, I daresay you will like to look at this." He passed
the letter lightly to Gerrard, but gave his fingers a warning grip
under cover of the paper.
[1] Inflated skins.
[2] Perfect leisure.
[3] Justice!