Dr. Roberts, who lived, by the Maharajah's kind permission, in the
jail behind the monkey temple, soon found himself in rather an
awkward dilemma. Not in regard to the monkeys. They were
certainly troublesome. They stole his biscuits, and made holes in
his roof, and tore up the reports he wrote for the S.P.C.K. in
England. Dr. Roberts made allowance for the monkeys, however. He
had come to take away their sacred character, and nobody could
expect them to like it. If you had asked Dr. Roberts what his
difficulty was he would have shown you Sonny Sahib. The discovery
was so wonderful that he had made. He had found a yellow-haired,
blue-eyed English boy in a walled palace of Rajputana, five hundred
miles from any one of his race. The boy was happy, healthy, and
well content. That much the Maharajah had pointed out to him; that
much he could see for himself. Beyond that the Maharajah had
discouraged Dr. Roberts' interest. The boy's name was Sunni, he
had no other name, he had come 'under the protection' of the
Maharajah when he was very young; and that was all His Highness
could be induced to say. Any more pointed inquiries he was
entirely unable to understand. There seemed to be no one else who
knew. Tooni could have told him, but Tooni was under orders that
she did not dare to disobey. In the bazar two or three conflicting
stories, equally wonderful, were told of Sunni; but none that Dr.
Roberts could believe. In the end he found out about Sunni from
Sunni himself, who had never forgotten one word of what Tooni told
the Maharajah. Sunni mentioned also, with considerable pride, that
he had known three English words for a long time--'wass' and
'bruss' and 'isstockin'.'
Then Dr. Roberts, with his heart full of the awful grief of the
Mutiny, and thinking how gladly this waif and stray would be
received by somebody, hurried to the Maharajah, and begged that the
boy might be given back to his own people, that he, Dr. Roberts,
might take him back to his own people at his personal risk and
expense; that inquiries might at least be set on foot to find his
relatives.
'Yes,' said the Maharajah, 'but not yet, ee-Wobbis. The boy will
be well here for a year, and you shall teach him. At the end of
that time we will speak again of this matter.'
Dr. Roberts was not satisfied. He asked the Maharajah at all
events to allow Sunni to live with him in his empty jail, but His
Highness refused absolutely.
'And look you, ee-Wobbis,' said he, 'I have promised the Viceroy in
Calcutta that you shall be safe in my country, and you shall be
safe, though I never asked you to come here. But if any khaber
goes to Calcutta about this boy, and if there is the least
confusion regarding him, your mouth shall be stopped, and you shall
not talk any more to my people. For my part, I do not like your
medicines, and you have not yet cured Proteb Singh of his short
leg; he goes as lame as ever!'
This was Dr. Roberts' difficulty; his mouth would be stopped. He
did not doubt the Maharajah. If he wrote to Calcutta that a Rajput
prince still held a hostage from the Mutiny, and made a
disturbance, there would be an end to the work he had begun under
the shadow of the palace wall. And the work was prospering so
well! The people were listening now, Dr. Roberts thought, and
certainly he had been able to relieve a great deal of their
physical misery. Would he be justified in writing to Calcutta?
Dr. Roberts thought about it very long and very seriously. In the
end he believed that he would not be justified, at least until the
year was over of which the Maharajah spoke. Then if His Highness
did not keep his promise, Dr. Roberts would see about it.
So the year went by; the months when the sun blazed straight across
the sky overhead, and everybody slept at noonday--the months when a
gray sheet of rain hung from the clouds for days together, and the
months when all the Maharajah's dominions were full of splendid
yellow lights and pleasant winds--when the teak wood trees dropped
their big dusty leaves, and the nights were sharply cold, and
Rajputana pretended that it was winter. Dr. Roberts and Sunni were
very well then, but Moti shrivelled up and coughed the day through,
and the Maharajah, when he went out to drive, wrapped himself up in
Cashmere shawls, head and ears and all.
The boys learnt as much English as could possibly be expected of
them; Sunni learnt more, because Dr. Roberts made it a point that
he should. Besides, he became a great friend of Dr. Roberts, who
began by begging that Sunni might be allowed to ride with him, then
to drive with him, and finally to spend two or three days at a time
with him. Sunni had more to learn than Moti had. He had a good
many things to forget, too, which gave him almost as much trouble.
The Maharajah found it as difficult as ever to like ee-Wobbis's
medicines, but he considered them excellent for Moti's cough, and
only complained that his son should be given so little of them.
The royal treasury would pay for a whole bottle--why should the
little prince get only a spoonful? Nevertheless Dr. Roberts stood
well in the estimation of the Maharajah, who arranged that a great
many things should be done as the missionary suggested. In one
case the Maharajah had the palace well, the oldest palace well,
cleaned out--a thing that nobody had ever thought of before; and he
was surprised to find what was at the bottom of it. Dr. Roberts
advised putting down a few drains too, and making a road from the
city of the Maharajah to the great highways that led to the
Viceroy's India. The Maharajah laid the drains, and said he would
think about the road. Then Dr. Roberts suggested that a hospital
would be a good thing, and the Maharajah said he would think about
that too.
Sunni was growing fast; he was too tall and thin for nine years
old. Dr. Roberts took anxious care of him, thinking of the unknown
grandfather and grandmother in England, and how he could best tell
them of this boy of theirs, who read Urdu better than English, and
wore embroidered slippers turned squarely up at the toes, and asked
such strange questions about his father's God. But when he taxed
the Maharajah with his promise, His Highness simply repeated, in
somewhat more amiable terms, his answer of the year before. And
the work was now prospering more than ever. When once he had got
the hospital, Dr. Roberts made up his mind that he would take
definite measures; but he would get the hospital first.