THE ISSUES OF AN AWFUL MOMENT.
The letter was written roughly in pencil on a large sheet of rough and
discoloured paper:--
"To Lieutenant Robert Charteris, at Dera Gauleeb Khan or wherever he
may be.
"MY DEAR CHARTERIS,--I am sorry to say that the fat's in the fire at
last. This morning the Rajah invited us to go out with him to his
garden-house, but did not send an elephant for us, as we expected.
However, we rode to meet him, with a small escort. Honestly, I cannot
tell whether he is to blame for what happened, or not, but at the
beginning it certainly looked like an accident. There was a certain
amount of confusion when we met on the way to the city gate, and the
respective escorts found some difficulty in clearing a path through the
crowds. Suddenly a wild fanatic of some sort--an Akaulee I should
say--dashed at me from behind with a sword, and fairly knocked me off
my horse. I have a cut on the head, but my hat turned the blade.
There was a horrid tumult, and soldiers and people were pressed this
way and that, forcing Cowper away from me. I got two or three more
blows as I lay on the ground, but one of our horsemen dragged me to my
feet. I saw that Sher Sing's hotties had turned tail and were in full
retreat, but it did not occur to me he was leaving us to our fate until
his horsemen charged back through the crowd and made straight for
Cowper. He was cut down in an instant, and I saw them hacking at him
before I could rally the escort. When we got through to him things
looked pretty bad, for the horsemen withdrew only to come down on us
afresh, and the crowd were siding with them, while all sorts of
missiles began to rain from the roofs. Then old Sudda Sookhee turned
up and threw himself into the breach--ordered the troops back,
harangued the mob, and took us up on his own hotty. He thought it
unsafe for us to go back to the Residency, in which I quite agreed with
him, in view of the attitude of Sher Sing and his guards, so I decided
that we should throw ourselves into the tomb of Rutton Sing outside the
walls, and hold it till assistance arrived. Without Sudda Sookhee's
support we could never have got through the gate, and as it was, they
fired at us with matchlocks from the walls. He took us straight to the
tomb, and then hurried back to see how things were going at the
Residency. Before noon we were joined by the rest of our escort, who
had been turned out of the fort without ceremony, but allowed to march
through the city unmolested. The native apothecary has done his best
for poor Cowper and me. My hurts are merely scratches, but he is badly
cut about, though quite cheerful. I need not ask you to relieve us as
soon as possible, as you will know that Rutton Sing's tomb is not a
first-rate position for defence. I have sent a warm remonstrance to
the Rajah, demanding that he shall visit us in person and express his
regret for the outrage, but I repeat frankly that I do not understand
his attitude. Still, you will see the importance of keeping a stiff
upper lip. Cowper begs that Mrs Cowper may not be alarmed about him,
as he expects (he says) to be up and about again before you turn up.
We rely on you to arrive with all convenient speed. It is possible
that the situation is more serious than appears.--Very sincerely yours,
RICHD. NISBET."
Gerrard read the letter through, turning the paper this way and that to
find the carefully numbered additions written in the margin or crossing
the sheet. Poor Nisbet! how thoroughly he must have been thrown off
his balance before he would consent to send off a rough draft like this
instead of making a fair copy--such was his first involuntary
reflection. Then his mind awakened suddenly to a realisation of the
perilous plight of the two men and their escort. Ratan Singh's tomb!
it was the very tomb in the grove, within sight of the walls of Agpur,
where he himself had purposed to make a hopeless stand over Rajah
Partab Singh's dead body, in defence of Partab Singh's wife and son,
and where Charteris had appeared in the nick of time to save him. The
place could not be held, there was no hope of that, even if it were
properly provisioned, and the letter was dated two days ago. If Sher
Singh were indeed a traitor--and his conduct would need a good deal of
explanation if it was to be ascribed to mere cowardice--Nisbet and
Cowper's position was more than serious, it was desperate. And there
sat Charteris, listening with knitted brows to the lucubrations of the
witnesses in this dispute over stolen cattle, pulling them up sharply
when their flights of imagination became more than usually daring, and
apparently oblivious alike of the disappointed messenger squatting in
the corner and of the men relying upon him outside Agpur. Gerrard's
breath came faster, and he wondered whether he could frame a plausible
excuse for getting out of the tent and starting immediately on his
return journey to Habshiabad. If Charteris was at a loss what to do,
Sadiq Ali and the Rani would joyfully send every fighting man they
possessed to deal a blow at Sher Singh. Suddenly Charteris turned
round.
"You are precious bored by all this, I can see," he said casually.
"Never mind; it will soon be over now. Take a cigar," and as he held
out the case, his fingers again met Gerrard's with that warning
pressure. His friend accepted the cheroot, and resigned himself to
further waiting. It was not for long. Charteris's brief summing-up
was masterly, so incisive, so searching, so constantly punctuated with
popular proverbs and familiar references to the domestic affairs of the
litigants, that it drew applause from both sides. Then he pronounced
judgment, and the winning side rent the air with their shouts, while
the losing party threw dust on their heads and lamented that they had
ever been born. They went off peacefully enough, however, and
fraternised with their late opponents over a sheep sent out to them by
Charteris, while the two Englishmen, alone at last, faced one another
in the hot shade of the tent.
"Bob, I don't think you realise how bad it is," said Gerrard hurriedly.
"They can't hold out in Ratan Singh's tomb if they are attacked with
anything like vigour. We have lost too much time already."
"Steady, old boy. No harm done. There's no starting until just before
sunset, unless you think sunstroke all round would improve the
efficiency of the relieving force. We have all afternoon for making
arrangements."
"But we have wasted a full hour when we might have been laying our
plans."
"Plans are laid all right. Got 'em here," said Charteris, tapping his
forehead. "What! you thought I was wholly engrossed in my family of
perjurers? Purely mechanical, my boy--interest and interruptions and
all. Brain working like clockwork at more than railroad speed the
entire time. Everything cut and dried. Start to-night for Dera Galib
to pick up my men. But those two poor chaps must have a letter to
hearten them up at once. The _kasid_ can move faster than we can, so
we'll have him in and question him a little before writing. Must pay
our Mr James the compliment of passing on the news, and enlightening
him as to our intentions, too."
"Just tell me first what part you have given me. Am I to accompany you
with such men as I have?"
"No, you are to ride back to Habshiabad hell-for-leather, and create a
diversion by crossing the Ghara with every man you can lay your hands
on. Even if I get to the city in time, I shall have to fight my way
back through hostile country, so if you can draw off the army by an
imposing demonstration in the other direction, it may save all our
lives."
"Old boy, I did you an injustice," said Gerrard.
"Don't apologise, my boy--quite used to it. Knew I could depend on
you, though."
The messenger, summoned into the tent, could do little more than
confirm the contents of the letter, though he was able to add that of
late the Agpuris had been urged by various fanatics to resist the
impending rectification of frontier, and that much bad feeling had been
displayed towards the Feringhees. He added that when the escort were
turned out of the fort, rumour said that a conference was going on at
the palace, in which the war party were making every effort to bring
over Sher Singh completely to their side, assuring him that he had gone
too far to retreat when he left the two wounded Englishmen to the
tender mercies of his guards and the mob.
The hot hours of the afternoon were spent in issuing orders and in
writing. A letter to Nisbet and Cowper, assuring them that immediate
help was on its way, and adjuring them in no circumstances to surrender
themselves to Sher Singh; a report addressed to James Antony, detailing
the alarming news, and adding that Charteris was on the point of
crossing the Tindar with a relieving force, and had requested support
from Habshiabad; a formal invitation to Sadiq Ali to allow his troops
to co-operate in the rescue of the Englishmen, and to Gerrard to
accompany them; a proclamation to be made throughout Darwan, announcing
the treachery of Sher Singh, and inviting suitable men to enlist for
the purpose of punishing it; orders to the subordinate officials in
various parts of the province to be on their guard against Agpuri
emissaries, and to enrol and train any native Darwanis who applied to
them; and--though these, indeed, were despatched first of
all--directions to the troops Charteris intended to take with him to be
ready to start at any hour. As the news of the preparations leaked
out, deputations began to come in from villages and tribes to assure
Charteris of their loyalty and entreat him to lead them against the
perjured Sher Singh, and these had to be received, entertained by
proxy, and dismissed, at the cost of much impatience and loss of
precious time. But while Charteris was thus engaged, Gerrard and the
Munshis prepared papers for his signature, and the writing work was all
finished before Gerrard and his followers went down to the river on
their return journey. Charteris could not even come down to see him
off, much less accompany him across and ride a little way with him, as
he had intended, but they promised themselves a speedy meeting before
Agpur--perhaps even in the palace itself, if the Rani's prophecy was
about to be fulfilled.
The men who paddled the _mashaks_ were stimulated to unwonted exertion
by the promise of large rewards, and the party, swimming their horses
by the bridles, crossed in less time than Gerrard had dared to hope. A
brief halt to arrange loads, inspect girths and snatch a mouthful of
food, and Gerrard and his men were in the saddle, and riding steadily
into the gathering darkness. The men would have ridden at top speed in
their eagerness to carry the news and hasten the vengeance, but Gerrard
held them back. They had a long way to go, and hard work to do, and
the life of every horse, as well as of every trained man, might be of
inestimable value in the days to come. When they had ridden for nearly
three hours, he called another halt, that the horses might be rubbed
down and have their mouths washed out with water, and the troopers
refresh themselves hastily with fragments of _chapati_. The men were
mounted again, and he was about to give the order to march, when a
distant sound became audible--the sound of horses' hoofs in the
direction from which they had come.
"One man--or at most two. Surely it is a messenger, sahib," said the
Granthi in command of the escort.
"We will wait to hear what news he brings. It may be that the Rajah
has submitted already," said Gerrard, and was answered by a groan of
dismay from his men. "Let two shots be fired at intervals," he went
on, "that the messenger may know where to find us."
The well-known border signal proved effectual, and the horsemen--it was
now clear that there were two of them--approached rapidly. Gerrard
uttered an exclamation of astonishment as he saw by the moonlight that
one of them was a European, and rode back to meet him.
"Bob!" he exclaimed, in utter surprise, as Charteris slipped from his
exhausted horse. "What is it?"
"Bad news. No use going on."
"What! They are not dead?"
"Murdered--both of 'em. Tomb was shelled, but they held out. Then
Sher Singh sent messengers to the escort--promised 'em double pay to
join him--pair of gold bracelets to Nihal Singh. They accepted and
went over--left Nisbet and Cowper all alone, except for a few faithful
servants. Cowper was too badly wounded to get up, he was lying on his
cot, and Nisbet sat beside him holding his hand. There was no hope of
further resistance, and they told the servants to escape if they could.
One of 'em hid, and brought the news to me just now. Sher Singh's men
burst in, with old Sarfaraz Khan at their head, shouting all the
wickedness he could lay his filthy old tongue to. Nisbet told him he
might kill them, as they were only two to thousands, but that he might
be sure thousands of English would come and destroy Sher Singh and his
city."
"And they killed them?"
"Hacked 'em to pieces, and took their heads to Sher Singh."
Charteris's face twitched, and he turned away angrily.
"There's no possibility that the servant's tale is false, I suppose?"
"I wish to Heaven there were. But why should Sher Singh make things
out worse when they were bad enough already? Besides, I questioned the
fellow pretty sharply, and he was not to be shaken. So I started at
once to catch you up."
"Thanks," said Gerrard absently. "That poor little woman, Bob! How
will she ever stand it?"
"Doesn't bear thinking of," said Charteris brusquely. "Question is,
what are we going to do?"
"Why, what can we do? Rescue their bodies, do you mean?"
"Not a bit of it. Look here, Hal; I've been thinking it out as I came
along. Sher Singh has drawn the sword and thrown away the scabbard
now--burnt his boats, in fact. He can't stop where he is and take his
punishment quietly; he must call upon the Granthis generally to back
him up. Remember, they wouldn't rise against us in cold blood, but now
that he has plucked up courage to give them a lead they'll go. The
servant tells me that they called upon the escort to join them in the
name of God and the Guru, and the murderers were calling out _Wa Guru!_
and _Guru-ji ki Fatih!_ as they rushed in. They'll make a religious
business of it, and every Granthi in Granthistan will join Sher Singh
unless he is nipped in the bud."
"Well, but he is nearer Granthistan than we are. Who is going to nip
him in the bud?"
"You and I, if you are game."
"Oh, I'm game to do anything that's feasible."
"Are you game to take a big risk? If Sher Singh is to be kept from
overrunning Granthistan, he must be stopped at once. I believe that
you and I can do it."
"But how? with merely the Habshiabadis and your troops?"
"Precisely. If we march on Agpur, they daren't leave the city
undefended with us in their rear. They have no military genius to see
that the only chance lies in snapping us up before we can unite, and
straining every nerve to do it, and we can get together a large enough
force to give a very good account of anything less than the whole Agpur
army. If we find ourselves faced with that, and luck's against us, we
shall probably go down, but we shall have done it more damage than Sher
Singh can repair before he finds a British force in his country."
"Honestly, Bob, I don't know what to say. Your plan sounds reasonable
enough, but you must see that it's subversive of every rule of military
science."
"Hang military science! If we can confine Sher Singh within the bounds
of his own state, prevent him from throwing down the gauntlet to
British power by invading Granthistan, and make him so anxious about
the safety of Agpur that we keep him there until we can get a siege
train from Farishtabad to batter the walls about his ears, ain't it
worth it?"
"I believe you, my boy! but can we do it? If we try and fail, it means
ruin, utter and complete, for both of us."
"And if we try and succeed, it will save England and India a second
Granthi War."
"Right, Bob; I'll do it. Give us your fist, old boy."
Charteris drew a long breath as they shook hands. "I don't mind
telling you that if you wouldn't come in, I had made up my mind to try
it by myself," he said. "And then, Hal, you might well have talked
about ruin utter and complete. But as it is, why, I am proud to serve
under you, old boy, and if my Darwanis don't give a good account of
themselves under your command, you may call me a Dutchman."
"Under my command? Nonsense, Bob! I am going to serve under you, of
course. Why, you are the man on the spot, holding a commission from
the Granthi Durbar, and obviously the proper person to punish its
rebellious vassal. I am merely accompanying the troops of a friendly
state as a matter of curiosity."
"My dear Hal, it's no end good of you, but I am perfectly content. You
have always been top-sawyer, you know."
"And a precious mess I should have made of things more than once, if
you had not been at hand. Why, Bob, I couldn't conscientiously take
command in an affair like this. It's your idea; I should not have
thought of it, and it isn't likely I should carry it out properly. You
see your point and go straight at it through thick and thin, while I
plot out a plan for getting there on the lines of the best commanders,
with proper care for communications and supplies. But if you will give
your orders, I'll carry them out or burst. If I don't agree with 'em,
I promise you you shall hear about it."
"No doubt whatever about that. Well, Hal, so be it. Even if you don't
agree, you'll obey orders, I know. Just a minute or two to worry out
our immediate moves, then back I go. Got a light? Take a squint at
this map of mine. I propose to cross the Tindar about Kardi, so as to
threaten Agpur from the south-west, throw up such entrenchments as time
allows, and wait there for you. You will cross the Ghara wherever you
find most convenient--the Habshi with his local knowledge will advise
you best there--remembering that if you can get far enough to the east
to give the impression of threatening the city from another side, so
much the better, but remembering also that unless you come up quickly,
I may have the whole Agpur army launched against me."
"My dear Bob, you forget the distance I shall have to march. You will
be annihilated before I can reach you."
"Not if I know you, or myself and my Darwanis. If I can hold the
Agpuris in front, while you come up and deliver a flank attack, I will,
but that circumstances must decide. We will keep open communications
by means of _kasids_ if we can, but it is quite possible we may have to
act independently. At any rate, I will not leave Kardi alive without
letting you know, and you won't let anything short of a signed message
from me persuade you that I have abandoned it?"
"Trust me. But I wish we could both have made forced marches and met
at a point on the Ranjitgarh side of Agpur."
"So do I. But if wishes were horses----! The meanest intelligence,
even Sher Singh's, couldn't miss the propriety of attacking us in
detail if we trailed our toy armies separately past him with the force
we possess. Don't think I labour under any delusion as to our powers.
We can't push Sher Singh back; we can only hold him back by fear for
the city. We can't hope to conquer him, but we may make it impossible
for him to move until a British brigade with battering guns arrives to
eat him up."
"I see. Less glorious, but possibly quite as useful."
"Just so. And there's a private and personal advantage for us in being
on this side of the city rather than the other. Our Mr James will
readily acknowledge that while there was a chance of rescuing our poor
fellows we were bound to cross into Agpur. But when he hears they are
dead, I have a foreboding--I feel it in my bones--that he will
instantly order us back. Of course I shall send him all
particulars--my reasons for invading the country, our force, our
anticipations of success, the exact reinforcement we need to finish the
job in style, and you will do the same before leaving Habshiabad. But
it is a good long way for the messengers to go, both in your case and
mine, and it is also a good long way back, and the same address may not
always find us. Therefore I trust that when we get our orders for
retreat, we shall be so far into Agpur that it is impossible to obey.
Even James Antony would allow a man a little discretion when to go
forward is safety, and to go back would mean destruction."
"You old fox!" cried Gerrard. "I'll back you up, don't be afraid.
We'll put the telescope to the blind eye, and our careers may go hang!"
"That's the style. We shall have you a swaggering dare-devil yet, old
boy. And now it's boot and saddle again. Good-bye, and come up in
time."
"Good-bye. Take care of yourself, Bob."
Charteris laughed as he swung himself into the saddle. He and his
orderly clattered off into the night, and the campaign of vengeance had
begun.