ARRAIGNED.
“What can it be? Who is coming?” cried Lady Haigh, running out on
the verandah, as a horse galloped into the courtyard of the fort.
“There’s only one man who would come to pay a call in that style,”
said Sir Dugald, following her more slowly. Before he reached the
verandah, Major Keeling had thrown himself from the saddle, flinging
Miani’s bridle to a servant who ran up, and was at the top of the
steps.
“I want your help, both of you,” cried the Commandant. “Was anything
ever more unlucky? There’s Crayne taken it into his head to come on
here from the river, and we’ve never exchanged a civil word in our
lives. I can’t even put him up, either. The only room I have that’s
big enough to hold his magnificence is full of saddlery--that new
cavalry equipment, you know--and he’ll be here to-night, so there’s no
time to cart it away. Can you take him in, Lady Haigh? There are those
unoccupied rooms, if you don’t mind, and we could dine him in the
durbar-hall. Of course I’ll send up every stick of furniture I have,
for the Parsee’s stock is precious limited--I looked in as I came
along. We must do our best for him, for the credit of the frontier,
though he is such an unpromising brute.”
“Of course,” said Lady Haigh eagerly, “and we must try to put him into
a good temper, for the sake of the frontier. We’ll do everything we
can. You will send up what servants you can spare, won’t you? and I’ll
set them to work. And you will act as host at the dinner?--oh, you
must. Your position and his demands it. We can pretend that the
durbar-hall is our recognised room for dinner-parties.”
“Very well, but this reminds me that I must build some sort of place
to lodge strangers in when I have time. One never expects
distinguished visitors up here now, somehow. A quiet dinner to-night,
I suppose, as he’ll only just have ridden in, and a regular _burra
khana_ to-morrow? He’ll scarcely stay more than the two nights. Well,
I’ll send up my servants and household goods. I’m really tremendously
obliged to you, but I knew I could count on you and Haigh.”
He galloped away, and Lady Haigh proceeded to plunge her household
into chaos, and thence into a whirl of reconstruction and
rearrangement. She was in her element on occasions of this kind, and
such servants as averred that their caste did not permit them to do
anything they were told found it advisable to keep out of her way. Sir
Dugald retired to the ramparts with the work he had in hand, thus
escaping from the turmoil; but Penelope was kept as busy as her
hostess, and, like her, had only time for a brief rest before it was
necessary to welcome the distinguished visitor. Wonders had been done
in the few hours at their disposal, if only Mr Crayne had had eyes to
recognise the fact, and the sole _contretemps_ that marred the evening
was not Lady Haigh’s fault. Major Keeling was summoned away to inquire
into a complicated case of _dacoity_ and murder at a village some
miles off, and it was impossible for him to return in time to join the
party.
To those present it seemed, however, as if this was not altogether a
misfortune. Mr Crayne had a playful habit of jerking out unpleasant
remarks in the interval between two mouthfuls of food, without even
lifting his eyes, and continuing his meal without regarding any
protest or disclaimer. Before dinner was half over he had told Lady
Haigh that her cook did not know how to make curry, criticised
adversely the gun-horses, which were the pride of Sir Dugald’s life,
and dear to him as children, and sent Ferrers’ heart into his mouth by
the announcement that things seemed to have got precious slack at
Alibad, but that he was come to pull the reins tighter, thanks to a
warning from his nephew. Soon afterwards he told Colin that he ought
to have been a parson instead of a soldier, and Penelope that if she
came down to Bab-us-Sahel she would see how far behind the fashion her
clothes were--which is a thing no self-respecting girl cares to hear
said of her, however hopelessly crossed in love she may be. But the
climax was reached when he frowned malevolently at his plate, and
observed--
“Fine state of things up here. For years Keeling has blazoned himself
throughout India as the only man who could get this frontier quiet and
keep it so, and yet he can’t make time to eat his dinner or show
proper respect, but has to go and hunt murderers.”
Every one was thunderstruck by this outburst, but to the general
astonishment it was Penelope who responded to the challenge.
“That is not fair, Mr Crayne,” she cried indignantly. “If you knew the
frontier as we know it, you would wonder that it’s as quiet as it is.
The settled inhabitants are perfectly good, and so are the tribes
close at hand that know Major Keeling. But fresh tribes are always
wandering down here, who haven’t heard of the new state of things.
They were always accustomed to raid the villages, and rob and murder
as they liked, and they don’t know that they can’t do it now. In time
they will all have learnt their lesson, but it may not be for a long
while yet.”
“Upon my word, young lady!” said Mr Crayne, actually pausing to look
at her. “Has Major Keeling engaged you as his official advocate? He
ought to be thankful to have found such a champion.”
“Miss Ross has only said what we all know and feel,” said Lady Haigh,
coming to Penelope’s rescue as she sat silent, flushed but undaunted.
“We are all Keelingolaters here, Mr Crayne; and don’t you know it’s
very rude to say things against your hostess’s friends at her own
table?”
Mr Crayne accepted the rebuke with remarkable meekness. “I bow to your
ruling, ma’am,” he said, with something like a twinkle in his eye. “At
your table, and in your hearing, I am a Keelingolater too. Sir Dugald,
a glass of wine with you, if you please.”
“You have conquered that old bear, Elma!” said Penelope afterwards to
her friend. “I could never have made a joke of what he said.”
“My dear, it was what you said that gave me courage to do it. I wanted
to throw the plates at him, or box his ears, or something of that
kind; and while I was trying to repress the impulse you answered him,
and I was in such abject terror as to what he might go on to say that
I spoke in desperation.”
“Nice little girl that--fine eyes,” said Mr Crayne to his nephew
later. “The one who stood up for Keeling, I mean. Anything between
them?”
“Certainly not, sir,” replied Ferrers with decision. “Quite the
contrary.”
“Oho, that’s the way the wind blows, eh? Well, sir, understand me.
There’s to be no talk of anything of the sort until you’re back from
Gamara, d’ye hear? The Government won’t send a married man, and for
once they’re right. If you do anything foolish, I’ll ruin you. No, it
won’t be necessary--you’ll ruin yourself. Be off.”
Ferrers returned to his room at Colin’s quarters in a somewhat subdued
frame of mind. He had fully intended to get Penelope to marry him
before he started for Gamara, not so much, it must be confessed, with
the idea of providing for her as of precluding any possibility of a
change of feeling on her part. This was now out of the question; but
it occurred to him as a consolation that the nature of his errand
would appeal to her so strongly that he might feel quite secure. The
future looked very promising as he mounted Colin’s steps; but even as
he did so, his past rose up to greet him. A beggar was crouching in
the shadow of one of the pillars of the verandah, and held up his hand
in warning as Ferrers was about to shout angrily for the watchman to
come and turn him off.
“It is I, sahib. The business is urgent. To-morrow you will see your
desires fulfilled, but there is still one thing to be done. Give me an
order to Jones Sahib at Shah Nawaz for two sowars, whom I shall
choose, to accompany me on the track of a notorious marauder.”
“But what has this to do with our affair? Who’s the fellow?”
“Nay, sahib; have you not yet learnt that there are questions it were
better not to ask? Fear not; the man shall be duly tracked and
followed, but he shall not be brought in alive, nor shall his body be
found. On this all depends.”
“Look here,” said Ferrers; “do you mean to tell me you are proposing
to murder Major Keeling in cold blood, and hide his body in the sand?
Give me a straight answer.”
“Nay, sahib,” said the Mirza unwillingly, “not Kīlin Sahib--it is the
other. He must not be found to-morrow.”
“The other? What other?”
“Him that you know of. Why make this pretence? The man must die, or
all our work goes for naught.”
“I don’t know of any one of the kind, and I’m hanged if I know what
you’re driving at. But it seems you’re trying to get me to countenance
a murder, and I’m going to have you put in prison.”
“Nay, sahib, not so,” said the Mirza softly. “There are many things I
could tell Kīlin Sahib and Haigh Sahib’s Mem which they would like to
know. And they would tell the Miss Sahib, and what then?”
Ferrers hesitated for a moment. Could he allow the facts to which the
Mirza alluded to become public? His uncle might laugh at them, though
there were details by which even he would be disgusted, but Colin and
Penelope would never speak to him again--of that he was certain. He
moved away from the steps.
“Go,” he said. “I will not give you the order you ask for, but if you
keep secret what you know, I will allow you to escape.”
“Then you will let Kīlin Sahib go free?”
“Most certainly, if I can only convict him with the help of murder.”
“And all that I have done--my services, my duty to those who sent me
forth--am I to have no satisfaction?”
“You shall have a halter if you don’t take yourself off. Never let me
see your face again.”
“Nay, sahib, think not you can cast me off; our fates are joined
together. Rāss Sahib and his sister may seem to have gained
possession of you for a time, but it is not so. The contest is yet to
come, and the victory will be mine. We shall meet, and before very
long, and you will know the full extent of the power I have over you.”
The confidence of the man’s tone made Ferrers’ blood run cold. He took
a step towards him, but the Mirza seemed to vanish into the darkness,
and, search as he would, he could find no trace of him.
Ferrers’ sleep was disturbed that night. He had often puzzled over the
difficulty of breaking off his intercourse with the Mirza, but now
that the Gordian knot had been cut for him he did not feel happy. It
was clear that, for some reason or other, he could not imagine why,
the evidence against Major Keeling was destined to break down, and
this made it seem probable that he had been duped all along. And yet,
as he had said to Penelope, how could he disbelieve the witness of his
own eyes? He tossed and tumbled upon his bed, turning things over in
his mind involuntarily and as if of necessity, as often happens in the
wakeful hours of night. When at length he fell asleep, he woke again
in horror, with a cold sweat breaking out all over him. What a
detestable dream that had been! and yet it seemed to have no sense in
it. There was a snake, and in some way or other the snake was also the
Mirza, and Penelope was standing between him and it, trying to defend
him. He himself seemed unable to move, and only wondered stupidly how
it was that the snake did not attack Penelope. Then she stood aside
for a moment, and he felt that the snake was beckoning to him--but how
could it, when it was a snake?--and he slipped past Penelope, only to
find that the snake was coiling itself round him. It was cold and
clammy and stifling; its head was close to his face; it was just about
to strike its murderous fangs into his temple, when not Penelope but
Colin seized it by the neck and dragged it away, calling out, “George!
George! get up!” With a vague idea that the snake had bitten Colin he
sat up, to find that it was morning, and Colin was standing in the
doorway of his room, and shouting to him to wake. For a moment he
stared at him with eyes of horror, then looked round for the snake,
and, realising that it was all a dream, smiled feebly.
“You must have been having frightful nightmare,” said Colin. “You were
lying on your back and groaning shockingly, and the mosquito-net has
fallen down, and you’ve got it all twisted round you. Your boy must
have fastened it very carelessly.”
“Oh, I’ll blow him up about it. Enough to give one bad dreams, isn’t
it? with this horrible row going on as well. Of course it’s the
eclipse to-day.”
An eclipse had been predicted, to begin in the course of the morning,
and all the Hindus in the town were doing their heroic best to rescue
the sun from the clutches of the black monster which was intending to
devour it. Tom-toms, gongs, and fireworks were among the remedies
tried, apparently with the idea of frightening away the monster before
he came near enough to do the sun any harm, and every native appeared
also to think it his duty to howl, groan, or shriek with all his
might. Ferrers and Colin took their _choti haziri_ to the
accompaniment of deafening uproar, and when one of the Haighs’
servants appeared to say that Mr Crayne desired his nephew’s presence
at once at the fort, they could scarcely hear his message.
Ferrers was in no uncertainty as to the reason for this summons, for
Colin had mentioned having seen Major Keeling riding by in the
direction of the fort, doubtless to apologise to the Commissioner for
his absence the evening before. The moment had come, and he mounted
his horse and rode soberly through the town, feeling confident of the
strength of his evidence, and yet nervous as to the result of the
trial. On the verandah before the Haighs’ quarters Lady Haigh and
Penelope were wandering restlessly with anxious faces, exchanging
frightened whispers now and then, and starting whenever the sound of
raised voices reached them from the drawing-room.
“What can it be?” asked Lady Haigh breathlessly, forgetting her
dislike of Ferrers. “It must be something dreadful. They have been
quarrelling frightfully.”
Ferrers made some excuse, he did not know what, and hurried indoors.
In the drawing-room Mr Crayne was seated magisterially in the largest
chair, Major Keeling was striding up and down with spurs and sword
clanking, and Sir Dugald was leaning against the window-frame, looking
unutterably worried and disgusted.
“So this,” said Major Keeling, pausing in his walk as Ferrers entered,
and speaking in a voice hoarse with passion,--“this is the spy you
employ to bring false accusations against me?”
“My nephew is no spy, sir, and it is for you to prove that the
accusations are false,” said Mr Crayne, quailing a little under the
fire of the other’s eyes.
“Oh, pardon me. When I find one of my own officers set to watch and
report upon my movements---- Why, he doesn’t even do that. He invents
movements for me, and founds lies upon them. Spy is not the word----”
“Keep cool, Major,” interjected Sir Dugald.
“You will not improve your cause by this violence, sir,” said Mr
Crayne, relieved from his imminent fear of a personal assault. “I
understand that Captain Ferrers’ attention was first drawn to your
proceedings when he was following your advice and paying visits at
night to different parts of his district to see that the patrols
worked properly. It is for him to say what he has seen, and for you
then to justify yourself. Captain Ferrers, you will be good enough to
repeat what you told me some nights ago.”
Ferrers told his story, Major Keeling gathering up his sword and
creeping to and fro with noiseless steps and set face, in a way which
reminded the Commissioner unpleasantly of a tiger stalking its prey.
When Ferrers ceased speaking, he turned upon Mr Crayne.
“I fancy I could shed a little light on the beginning of that story,”
he said, with restrained fury, “but I won’t ask any questions now. You
accuse me of personating the Sheikh-ul-Jabal, and applying his
allowance from the Company to my own use. Perhaps you accuse me of
murdering him as well?”
“No,” murmured Sir Dugald, as no one answered, “they ‘don’t believe
there’s no sich a person.’”
“Well, there is only one way of clearing myself, and that is to
produce the Sheikh-ul-Jabal. I’ll have him here, dead or alive, before
sunset, if I have to pull Sheikhgarh stone from stone to get him.”
“By all means,” said Mr Crayne. “The course you suggest would be far
more effective than any amount of shouting.”
“Wait until you are accused as I am before you talk of shouting,” was
the explosive answer. “Haigh, come with me.”
“Oh, what is it? what is it?” cried Lady Haigh and Penelope together
as the two men emerged from the room.
“It’s a fiendish plot,” said Major Keeling. “Don’t come near me, Lady
Haigh. If I have done what they say, I have no business to breathe the
same air with you and Miss Ross.”
“But you haven’t! We know you haven’t--don’t we, Pen? Whatever it is,
we know you didn’t do it. And you’re going to prove it, and make them
ashamed of themselves! Don’t say you mayn’t be able to. You must.”
“Thanks, thanks!” He held out one hand to her and the other to
Penelope. “While you two ladies and Haigh believe in me, there’s
something to live for still. Haigh, you and I are going to make
straight for Sheikhgarh, and try fair means first. I am glad I didn’t
ride Miani this morning, in case I don’t come back. We will leave
orders with Porter to march to our support if he gets a message.”
They rode out of the gateway, followed by Major Keeling’s two
orderlies, gave Captain Porter his orders, and struck off across the
desert to the south-west, in the direction taken by Ferrers and the
Mirza a week before. By the time they reached the hills the eclipse
was just beginning, and in the ghastly half-light, which seemed to be
destitute of all warmth and to suck the colour from the rocks and
sand, they pushed on towards the fortress. It was not long before they
were challenged and their path barred by a patrol wearing the white
and scarlet dress of the brotherhood. Major Keeling bade the orderlies
remain where they were, taking precautions against surprise, and if
neither Sir Dugald nor himself had returned in an hour, to ride for
their lives to Alibad and Captain Porter.
“Tell the Sheikh-ul-Jabal,” he said to the men who had stopped him,
“that his friend Keeling Sahib is here, and desires to see him on a
matter of great importance to them both.”
One of the men was sent with the message, and presently returned to
say that the Sheikh was willing to give audience to the visitors if
they would consent to be blindfolded until they reached his presence.
Sir Dugald demurred, whereupon his leader told him to stay with the
orderlies if he liked, but not to cavil about trifles, and he
submitted. Their horses led by a man on either side, they rode on,
able only to distinguish that the path wound uphill and downhill a
good deal, and was sometimes pebbly and sometimes rocky. Then they
passed under an echoing gateway, where their guides warned Major
Keeling to stoop, and across a paved courtyard, and were told they
must dismount. Sir Dugald felt to make sure that his sword was loose
in the scabbard and his pistols untouched, and allowed himself to be
guided up a flight of steps. They entered some building, and the
bandages were removed from the eyes of the two Englishmen. The light
was very imperfect, for the eclipse was approaching totality, but they
were able to distinguish a majestic bearded figure in white and
scarlet facing them.
“Sheikh Sahib,” began Major Keeling impulsively; but he was
interrupted by an involuntary exclamation from Sir Dugald--
“Why, the beggar’s the living image of you, Major!”
A smile passed over the features of the Sheikh-ul-Jabal, and he
ordered the attendants to bring lights. Torches arrived, and Major
Keeling gazed in astonishment into a face which was bewilderingly
reminiscent of his own, while Sir Dugald compared the two feature by
feature, and could find no difference.
“This explains the mystery, then!” he said.
“Why, so it does!” said Major Keeling, “and Ferrers is not quite the
hound we thought him. Did you know of this likeness?” he asked of the
Sheikh.
“I discovered it the night we met in the desert,” was the answer, “and
the reports of my disciples would have informed me of it if I had not.
It has had advantages for both of us,” and he smiled again.
“It will have very grievous disadvantages for both of us,” cried Major
Keeling, “unless you will go to Alibad at once and see the
Commissioner. He thinks I have personated you to get your allowance,
and he is determined to thresh the matter out.”
The Sheikh considered the request gravely. “Will the Commissioner
Sahib come here if I do not go to him?” he asked.
“If he doesn’t, Captain Porter will come, and the Khemistan Horse with
him. The Commissioner means to satisfy himself about this, and he is
not one to be turned aside.”
“I have heard of him. But what if he should keep me a prisoner?”
“I have thought of that. I will remain here as a hostage, while you go
to Alibad with Lieutenant Haigh here. Never mind about your vow. It’s
the best day you could have in the year, for the sun isn’t shining,
and if it was, it would be better to dispense yourself from your vow
than have your fort destroyed.”
“Kīlin Sahib speaks wisely,” said the Sheikh, stroking his beard.
“Let the children be called,” he said to a servant. The two Englishmen
waited in some perplexity while the three children whom Ferrers had
seen were summoned from behind a curtain. The boys came forward with
eager interest; but the girl, who drew her head-shawl across her
mouth, eyed the visitors with unconcealed hostility.
“Ashraf Ali,” said the Sheikh to the eldest boy, “this Sahib will
remain here as a hostage while I ride to Alibad with his friend. You
will deal with him as the Sahibs there deal with me. If they kill me,
you will kill him, and defend the fort to the last. Take your post in
the gate-tower, and keep good watch, while your brother remains to
watch the Sahib.”
The boy seemed perturbed, and drew the Sheikh aside. “He is armed,”
they heard him say, looking askance at Major Keeling’s sword, “and
while I am keeping watch he may frighten the women, and make them help
him to escape.”
“I won’t give up my sword to any man on earth!” cried Major Keeling
hotly, anticipating the demand which would follow; but after a pause,
as the Sheikh looked round at him doubtfully, he added, regardless of
Sir Dugald’s muttered expostulations, “I see your difficulty, and I’ll
take a leaf out of your book, and dispense myself from part of my vow.
I will intrust my sword to your daughter, if she will honour me by
taking charge of it.”
“Wazira Begum,” said the Sheikh, “take the Sahib’s sword, and keep it
safely until I ask for it again.”
The girl came forward reluctantly, and, darting a look of hatred at
the Englishmen, took the sword as if it defiled her fingers, and
retreated with it behind the curtain. Sir Dugald’s protests against
Major Keeling’s remaining were met by a peremptory order to be off at
once, and he unwillingly allowed himself to be blindfolded again. The
Sheikh’s horse was brought round, and he rode away with Sir Dugald and
a dozen followers. Major Keeling sat down on the divan, and prepared
to wait with what patience he might. Suddenly a thought struck him.
“What a fool I am!” he cried. “It proves nothing to produce the Sheikh
alone. If they don’t see us together, they may still make out that I
am personating him. Haigh would be considered a biassed witness, I
suppose. But it’s too late to change now, and I could never have left
him here as the hostage.”