_A STAR IN THE ASCENDENT_
The Rani's ambition to ascend the throne of Jhansi was achieved. But
immediately she beheld difficulties rise on all sides. Everyone in
Jhansi seemed to have a claim to urge upon her gratitude. The larger
the pecuniary recompense that was supposed to be attached to a place of
honor, the more numerous were the applicants. To that of the greatest
responsibility, the command of the troops, the Rani was in a dilemma as
to whom she would appoint.
From his well known military skill and tried valor, Ahmad Khan might
wisely have been selected for the office; but the Rani hesitated to
confide to his hands so much power after his recent exhibition of
disloyalty.
In the meantime Ahmad had sullenly retired to his house without the
city, there to plead sickness as an excuse for failing to respond to
her summons to court.
On the other hand, Prasad remained close to her side, hourly
transforming the early esteem which the Rani had conceived for him,
into a warmer sentiment. He, too, intimated that his aspiration lay
toward the chief military prize in the Rani's gift; but thus far she
had let it pass ungratified, if not unrecognized. Apart from his
untried ability as a commander, she realized that to appoint Prasad, a
newcomer to the state, to such a coveted position, would surely stir
up a feeling of bitter jealousy in the breasts of a score of Jhansi
officers, who might justly claim a prior right to her consideration.
These matters increasingly harassed the Rani's mind.
The morning of a few days after her accession discovered the Rani in
the act of formally announcing that event, by letter, to the other
princes who had risen in rebellion against the rule of the Foreigners.
Before her, Bipin Dat sat cross-legged upon a mat. He was laboriously
endeavoring to indite these missives in what he considered to be
correct form.
After a period of effort, he drew the Rani's attention to his latest
production.
"This letter, noble Rani," said he, "is to the most illustrious Dhundu
Panth, Peshwa of the Marathas."
The Rani signified her willingness to listen, and Bipin proceeded to
read in a sonorous voice, emphasizing the repetition of his own name by
inflection of tone, and gestures--
_By the hand of the Intellectual
Bipin Dat
Secretary to Her Highness, Lachmi Bai,
Rani of Ihansi
To
The most noble, Dhundu Panth,
Peshwa of the Marathas
Greeting_
"Be it known to you, O most Illustrious Sir, that by the will
of God and the pleasure of the great Rani, the Honorable Bipin
Dat ventures to address your Sublimity, for the purpose of
disclosing certain information, as follows:
"On the 8th of the month the Foreigners were obliterated from
the face of the earth in Jhansi, as if the devil had swept them
all off into Hades. Further, on the same day, it pleased the
great God to direct His people to seat Her Immortal Highness,
Lachmi Bai, upon the throne of the Rajas of Jhansi, which
events were witnessed by the observant eye, and recorded by the
unerring hand of her faithful and esteemed servant, Bipin Dat.
"Lastly, it hath pleased Her Highness the Rani, to recognize
the services of the aforesaid Bipin Dat in these great times,
by appointing him her _munshi_.[2] Whereby he has set his hand
to this letter on the 12th day of the month, etc.
(Signed) "BIPIN DAT,
"Secretary to the Rani of Jhansi."
Bipin finished his reading with a flourish of the hand and a look
upon his solemnly cherubic countenance, that indicated his perfect
satisfaction with the composition.
"That, noble Rani," said he, "will in proper form convey to the Peshwa
the news of your Highness's accession."
A smile momentarily relieved the Rani's serious expression.
"He will also," she remarked, "be in little doubt as to the identity of
the writer. The Peshwa, the Rani, and the Intellectual Bipin Dat. He
may wonder if the third is not the most important of the three."
Bipin stroked his chin musingly.
"Dust under thy feet," he replied at last. "That could scarcely be the
case, but it has ever been the opinion of the most learned _pundits_
that in the work of great writers their personality shines forth as a
diamond amid false gems."
"Then Bipin, thou must be a veritable stone of the first water," she
replied. "But one thing I gather. You, at any rate, out of a multitude
of aspirants for office, appear satisfied with your position."
"Noble Rani," he continued. "Satisfied am I of thy graciousness; but of
the precise moment when it will be advisable for me formally to take
upon myself the burden of my duties, I am not yet determined."
A look of displeasure crossed the Rani's face.
"How mean you"? she asked. "Have you, too, some petition to make that I
will exchange it for one that brings a better revenue"?
"Noble Lady," he replied, "mere wealth holds out little inducement
for those of intellectual worth. We, who are writers with inspired
thoughts, look for a more imperishable reward; but in all events of
importance it is ever well to consult those who read the future and who
can discern the most auspicious moment to take an important step."
"Oh!" exclaimed the Rani. "Thou wouldst consult thy friend, the
astrologer"?
Bipin bowed.
"Such is my desire, noble Lady."
"Go, then," she cried, "and get thy consultation over quickly, for I
need the service of thy pen."
Bipin rose from his sitting posture. He _salaamed_ thrice before his
mistress and departed with an important air.
In the shadow of the pillar by the main entrance the blind beggar,
who appeared to have sat there from the beginning of all time,
instinctively recognized Bipin's footsteps. He accosted the secretary
with a petition for alms.
"Good clerk," he cried. "Have pity upon the unfortunate."
Bipin halted and faced him with a look of offended dignity.
"Good clerk!" he returned, in scornful accents. "Good clerk! Thou fool.
Dost know to whom thou art speaking"?
"Surely to the worthy clerk, Bipin Dat," replied the beggar,
innocently. "Many a time hath he cast a crumb to the afflicted."
Bipin scowled magnificently upon the beggar.
"Then seldom in future will the afflicted benefit by his compassion,"
he returned sternly, "unless they have more discernment than to style
him a clerk. Know, thou fool, that he to whom thou criest is no longer
a clerk, but hath so gained the ear of the noble Rani, that she hath
appointed him to be her secretary."
His breast swelled with pride as he authoritatively announced his new
rank.
"Secretary to the Rani," cried the beggar in astonishment. "Secretary
to the Rani. Behold how God rewardeth the deserving. Protector of
the Humble," he whined, "it was my infirmity that led me to make the
mistake."
"Be careful then not to make such a mistake again," replied Bipin,
mollified by the beggar's submissive tone.
He tossed a _pice_ into the beggar's outstretched palm. Then, with
lordly gait, he strutted on his way through the bazaars.
That Bipin Dat had become a man of authority was quickly impressed
upon the friends and acquaintances he encountered. With condescending
dignity he returned their effusive salutations, clearly intimating that
a wide gulf of distinction lay between Bipin Dat the Rani's present
secretary, and Bipin Dat the former ordinary clerk. Upon the children
that sedately played in his path he frowned so threateningly that they
shrunk back at his approach. He carried his head as if his turban
already swept the clouds. In his mind the question uppermost was, to
what height might his ascending star of fortune still further exalt the
name of Bipin Dat.
At length he turned from the broad, booth-lined thoroughfare into a
narrow alley, and directed his steps toward the door of a squalid
house. He halted and knocked several times before he received an
answer to his summons. The door was cautiously opened, and a woman
appeared.
"Is thy learned husband, Mohurran Goshi, within"? he demanded.
"My honored husband is at present deeply engaged in compiling the
horoscope of a noble raja," replied the woman, "but if you will enter,
I will bear him a message."
"Aye, do thou tell him that the Honorable Bipin Dat, Secretary to the
Rani, would engage his ear for a space. Thy husband hath already done
me service."
At the woman's invitation he crossed the threshold of a bare and dingy
room, the air of which was filled with a savory odor, rising from a pot
placed upon a small fire. To this, Bipin directed his attention, that
ever in close sympathy with his stomach, was alert to be interested in
the progress of cooking.
The woman disappeared from view through an inner door.
After an absence of several minutes she returned with a reply. Her
husband, though deep in study, would nevertheless receive so good a
client as the Rani's secretary. Would he be pleased to pass into the
other room?
Bipin followed the woman's direction and found himself in an apartment
divided in the center by a curtain. There, seated upon the floor, the
grave astrologer Mohurran Goshi, was surrounded by books and a variety
of scientific instruments.
For some moments after Bipin's entrance the astrologer appeared too
profoundly absorbed in his work to notice the presence of his visitor.
At last he withdrew his gaze from an abtruse calculation, and directed
a keen glance toward the face of the Rani's secretary.
"Welcome, worthy Secretary," he exclaimed. "Thou seest I prophesied
truly. Yesterday a clerk, to-day a secretary; who knows, to-morrow thou
mayest attain thy ambition and become a zemindar."
"A zemindar, forsooth!" cried Bipin, disdainfully. "Thou must know,
learned Astrologer, that my ambition now rises beyond the station of
a zemindar. A raja! Why not a raja"? he exclaimed, strutting back and
forth. "Why should I not aspire to become a raja"?
"There is truly no reason, good Secretary," replied the astrologer,
"why you should not become a raja, if the fates are propitious. Is not
the great Maharaja Sindhia descended from a slipper-bearer"?
"To be sure," acquiesced Bipin, confidently. "I see no reason why I
should not become a raja, and for that matter even a maharaja."
"Thou mayest even become a king," suggested the astrologer, with a note
of sarcasm in his voice.
"Perhaps, who can tell, a king," agreed Bipin, reflectively. "But not
too great a jump at first, learned sir. One might become a trifle
dizzy. At present I will beg of thee to cast thy eye into the future
and see if I am in the right way to become a raja. To that end, is the
moment propitious for my taking upon myself the duties of the Rani's
secretary"?
The astrologer glanced slyly toward his client.
"For such work," he explained, "the fee is necessarily higher than it
was in forecasting your path toward the position of a zemindar. The
deeper an astrologer is required to penetrate into futurity, the larger
is the sum he is compelled to ask for his services."
"Speak not of that," returned Bipin, grandiloquently.
"You may suppose that all the spoil of the Foreigners did not escape my
fingers. Name thy fee for disclosing my way to become a raja."
The astrologer trading upon his client's vanity, named an extravagantly
high figure. For a moment Bipin winced, but producing the money, he
urged the astrologer to lose no time in the matter.
For a space, the astrologer pored over a chart of the heavens,
muttering to himself unintelligibly; while Bipin impatiently awaited
the result.
At last the astrologer spoke in an abstracted manner.
"Thy way to become a raja, O Secretary, is clearly revealed, but in thy
path there stands a powerful enemy, who is even now within the palace
of the Rani."
Bipin's countenance lengthened considerably.
"Is it that accursed pundit, Krishna Lal"? he asked.
"His name is not so written upon the heavens," returned the astrologer,
"though its exact lettering I cannot as yet discern. But he is himself
a raja and detesteth thee with all his soul."
"Blessed Devi"! exclaimed Bipin, with nervous apprehension. "What raja
is there in the Rani's palace who beareth me so much ill-will. I know
of no such one."
"So far he hath screened his animosity under a mask of kindness,"
replied the astrologer, returning to a scrutiny of his chart. "But
thy path is clearly set in contradiction to his own. When they meet
thou wilt be in danger of bodily harm. Thou wilt not lose thy life,"
he added, reassuringly, "but thou mayest be deprived of some of thy
organs--thy nose, and possibly thy ears, good Secretary."
"Holy Kali," cried Bipin, impulsively raising his hand to his
terror-stricken face. "At such a price I have no desire to be a raja.
Nay, if such a danger encompasses me, the Rani may find another
secretary."
"Patience, patience, good sir," continued the astrologer. "I did not
say that there was no way of warding off these evils. By following such
advice as I can give thee, thou mayest escape them all and yet live to
be an unmaimed raja."
"Tell me how, I pray thee, O learned Astrologer," besought Bipin, with
little trace of his importance remaining.
The astrologer appeared to reflect deeply before he replied:
"First, thou wouldst do well," he enjoined, "to remain in thy present
service, because even if thou wert to fly to the end of the earth, that
which is written on the heavens is bound to come to pass. But do thou
carefully take note of everything in the palace, reporting each event
to me from time to time, so that when thy evil moment approaches I can
place before thee a sure defense. Especially do thou regard the actions
of a Hindu noble recently arrived to join the Rani's cause. His looks I
like not, though they be fair outwardly."
"Thou canst not mean the Raja Prasad Singh"? asked Bipin, in astonished
accents.
"His name I cannot read as yet," returned the astrologer, "but if his
image rises to thy mind from what I say, be assured he is the one who
seeks to do thee so much injury."
Then the astrologer put a question pointedly.
"Of this Raja Prasad, of whom you speak. Does he stand close to the
person of the Rani"?
"He is ever at her side," replied Bipin. "He seeks to be appointed to
the command of the troops in Jhansi."
The astrologer shook his head gravely.
"Come to me again shortly," he concluded. "Then I will disclose to thee
further. Remember to do as I have counseled thee."
As the astrologer appeared to be about to withdraw himself again into
a state of profound abstraction. Bipin promised to return at an early
date. With misgiving in place of elation in his heart, he left the
house dejectedly.
"It seems to me," he reflected, as he made his way thoughtfully
along the alley. "It seems to me I have gained little satisfaction
by visiting that astrologer. For twenty rupees I have found out that
the Raja, Prasad Singh, is an enemy who seeks to possess himself
of my nose and ears. Twenty rupees is a large sum to pay for such
information. What evil things might not the astrologer have disclosed
for fifty rupees? As to Prasad Singh, he is evidently jealous of my
influence with the Rani. I must keep a close watch on him, and report
to the astrologer frequently."
Bipin had scarcely left the astrologer's presence, when the curtain was
thrust aside and Ahmad Khan stood in the aperture.
"Well, noble sir," said the astrologer, "I think I reduced that fool to
a pliable state for our purpose."
Ahmad laughed sardonically.
"It is well," he replied. "No doubt his fears will temper him into a
useful tool. To-morrow I return to the Rani's court in a new character.
Keep my counsel, O Mohurran, and thou shalt receive better pay than
thou ever didst before in thy musty calling, well recompensed as I note
it is. One thing we have gleaned from his chatter. It was that dog of
a Prasad who advised the Rani to play me such a trick. He aspires to
become commander of the troops, does he? Well, he will yet be obliged
to seek his appointment at the hands of Ahmad Khan, Raja of Jhansi."