AHMAD AGAIN NONPLUSSED
In the furtherance of his design, Ahmad anticipated what might be
termed a scene when he made his report to the Rani upon the following
morning. He fully expected, from his observation of the character of
women in general, that he would find her enraged and vindictive with
Prasad, as the result of the Hindu noble's failure to respond promptly
to her summons. In this respect he was again destined to experience a
surprise, if not a disappointment.
She received him sedately as became the nature of the business to be
transacted, and without a reference to the event which had caused her
to display so much feeling on the day before. If Prasad's image still
occupied a place in her mind, no mention of his name came from her lips
to mark her sentiment toward him. Had her heart been entirely free from
the tender passion, she could not have appeared more composed, more
secure in all that related to her nature as a woman.
From time to time Ahmad gazed upon her with wonder. In order to draw
forth from her an outburst of the fire of resentment which he was
convinced burned inwardly, he more than once skillfully turned the
conversation in the direction of her truant lover; but the Rani as
skillfully declined his lead, passing on naturally to matters of public
importance.
She absolutely refused to disclose, from the beginning to the end of
the interview, what her thoughts or intentions were in regard to the
Mohammedan's rival.
As he was about to leave her presence, Ahmad paused on the threshold
with the hope that she would yet make some reference to Prasad.
The Rani glanced toward him interrogatively.
"Hast thou more to say, O Ahmad"? she asked calmly.
"Nothing, nothing, great Lady," he answered falteringly, as he saluted.
She returned the salute with dignity.
"Then I wish thee good fortune until the morrow," she concluded.
He left the palace with uneasy speculations rising in his mind.
Treacherous to the core of his nature himself, the Rani's reserve of
manner, caused him to suspect that treachery was lurking somewhere
among his own following.
Could that rascal of an astrologer be playing a double part? was the
first thought that flashed into Ahmad's brain; or could Prasad be
acting in the Rani's confidence as a spy upon his actions? If the
latter happened to be the case, he reasoned that the Hindu noble must
possess a power of deception of which he had certainly not displayed
the least symptom as yet. Ahmad decided that this was unlikely. If,
then, the astrologer was in reality conspiring against him, for greater
pay on the part of someone else, a possible enough contingency, it
could easily be detected. In any case he perceived the necessity
of bringing Prasad's complete ruin in the Rani's estimation to a
speedy issue, or a chance disclosure of his intrigue might engulf him
hopelessly in the ditch, he had so well excavated for his rival.
He set spurs to his horse and rode quickly to the astrologer's house.
A prolonged conversation with Mohurran Goshi apparently satisfied
Ahmad that he had nothing to fear from the duplicity of that crafty
personage. He handed the astrologer a well filled purse as the best
tonic to stimulate his continued fidelity.
"Thou wilt call, then, to see thy patient later in the day, learned
Astrologer," Ahmad remarked, as he prepared to turn his face homeward.
"At thy command, noble Lord," acquiesced the astrologer submissively.
"It is well," exclaimed Ahmad. "I warrant thou wilt find him in an
excellent humor for thy purpose."
Ahmad tested the speed of his horse until he approached within a short
distance of the compound surrounding his dwelling. Then he slackened
his pace and assumed an air of grave dejection.
"Good Prasad must believe that the heart of Ahmad Khan goes out to him
in sympathy," he soliloquized, "while the disclosure of the Rani's
faithlessness is drawn forth unwillingly from his friendly lips."
Prasad awaited the Mohammedan's return in a state of feverish anxiety.
He remarked Ahmad's gloomy visage immediately.
"Thou art the bearer of ill news, O Ahmad," he exclaimed, ere the usual
greetings had been exchanged.
"Alas"! returned the other. "My countenance doubtless reflects the
sadness of my heart."
"Speak," enjoined Prasad. "Tell me the worst thou knowest, for I feel
assured it hath to deal with my unlucky case."
"The worst may be told quickly enough, good friend," replied Ahmad.
"Yet, I would that thou urgest me not to such an unpleasant office. Let
us discuss other matters, and leave the disagreeable topic to a later
hour."
Prasad waved his hand impatiently.
"Tell me quickly," he cried. "Bad news is like decaying fruit. It
becomes the more rotten with the keeping. Did the Rani refuse to
hearken to my request"?
"Aye, she did even more than that," came the reply. "She refused to
have thy name mentioned in her presence."
"So"! ejaculated Prasad. "What else hast thou to tell, my emissary"?
"Why, good Prasad, as I hold thy interest at heart it pains me deeply
to speak thus, but it doth seem the Rani hath cast herself body and
soul into the arms of this new favorite, Dost Ali. Her actions have
become the scandal of the court."
Prasad raised himself upon his elbow. His brow contracted and his eyes
flashed threateningly.
"Tell me more," he hoarsely muttered.
"In truth, there is little more to tell," rejoined Ahmad, "except, that
she rides, walks, and feasts with him, and, the court gossip saith,
yields somewhat more besides. As for me, my business over, she excused
my presence speedily. I would have kept this from thee, but rumor would
surely have broken through my desire."
Prasad rose and paced back and forth in ominous silence. Suddenly he
turned and spoke vehemently.
"Ahmad, sick or well, I vow I will not be supplanted by this Dost Ali.
Immediately will I go to the palace. Toward the Rani I mean no harm,
but with her lover, I will find an excuse to bring this matter to an
end between us. Either Prasad Singh or Dost Ali shall fall into the
dust."
Ahmad laid a restraining hand upon the Hindu noble's shoulder.
"Prasad," he enjoined, "thou canst not do this."
"Why should I not"? the other asked tersely.
"Because there must be no strife within the Rani's palace. It would be
an act against her pleasure, her authority. Deeply do I sympathize with
thee, O Prasad, but I cannot countenance thy project."
Prasad returned his host's gaze with astonishment.
"Then, in heaven's name, what wouldst thou have me do"? he demanded.
"Lie here like some decrepit hunter while another goes off with the
quarry. Not I forsooth"!
"Come, good friend, curb thy ambition, passion, and impetuosity for a
season. Await with patience the fitting opportunity for achieving all,
without resort to violent means, that would implacably offend the Rani.
Thou, must remember her palace is not a camp, a field of arms."
"Oh"! exclaimed Prasad sarcastically. "These are indeed strange words
from Ahmad Khan. Is it so long ago that he and his followers swept into
her palace little heeding her authority. Truly that scene resembled an
assault."
Ahmad winced at the retort but managed to preserve his equanimity. He
replied in a contrite tone.
"It is even as thou sayest, but the hour was full of tumult. If my
action seemed wanting in respect for the Rani's dignity, surely I have
made the amends I swore upon the holy book."
Prasad laughed cynically.
"Loyal Ahmad," he cried. "I see not very well how thou canst prevent me
settling with this Dost Ali."
"What I will prevent," the Mohammedan answered, as if conscious of a
virtuous motive, "is the hasty action of a friend leading him on to
certain ruin, aye, even if I surround the house with soldiers and hold
him as a prisoner. Prasad, the Rani in her present temper would never
forgive thee. Thou must, nay thou shalt have patience, for thine own
interest. Even if thou dost curse thy friend now, he knows thou wilt
presently call down blessings on his head."
The two regarded each other fixedly. On Ahmad's face, entreaty that
gave place to determination. Prasad's countenance, a display of
conflicting emotions.
"Come," resumed Ahmad soothingly. "Subdue thy resentment. I tell thee
thy trouble will pass over, and thou wilt find thyself high in favor
with the Rani. In the meantime enjoy thy enforced absence from her
court as becomes a noble of high spirit. Drink of the Foreigner's
spirits, and," he added in a lower tone, "if thou wilt, of the charms
of the fair Ganga. There are hundreds who would envy thy present
opportunity."
"A curse upon all this mischief," Prasad returned impatiently.
"Hath not the learned astrologer told thee all will come well"? asked
the Mohammedan reassuringly.
"A curse upon him, too," added Prasad. "If he observed a little more
carefully events passing on the earth instead of keeping his gaze fixed
upon the heavens, he would be able to prophesy more surely. The fool!
Were I the Raja of Jhansi, I would soon find a means to make him lament
his fate, for having disclosed such a budget of nonsense."
"Thou knowest that as a follower of the only true Prophet," replied
Ahmad. "I set little store upon his trade as an astrologer; but as a
physician, he hath a reputation whereby he is sought by the greatest
nobles and princes."
"I care not for him or his reputation," returned Prasad sullenly. "To
me, it seems, as if all men, aye and all women, are leagued against
me."
"That is because thou art sick. Wait a day or two and thou wilt see
things more reasonably. Because for the moment the flower thou longest
to possess lies a little beyond thy reach, content thyself with others
that are near to hand. Now I go to the cantonments to inspect the
troops. When I return we will together discuss a means of getting rid
of this Dost Ali without offending against the susceptibilities of the
Rani; for in that, upon the oath that I have made, I can take no part."
With a further profession of his unalterable friendship, Ahmad departed
to his military duties.
He had gone but an hour or so, a period consumed by Prasad in bitter
reflections and vows of revenge upon his supposed rival, when the
bullock cart of the astrologer again rumbled and creaked its slow
progress to the Mohammedan's door.
Prasad received him in illhumored silence.
The astrologer-physician nevertheless methodically proceeded to unpack
his bag, and to an examination of his patient.
As before, he gravely felt Prasad's pulse, observed his tongue, and
then expressed himself as being highly satisfied with the sick man's
improved condition.
"I had purposed advising thee to take a bath of oil," said he, "but I
find it will be unnecessary."
"Truly thou art a wise physician," remarked Prasad sarcastically. "Tell
me now, I beg, how the heavens look this evening for the attainment of
my wishes"?
The astrologer scrutinized his calendar for a space, then replied in a
satisfied tone.
"All goes well, noble sir. The moment of triumph over thine enemy draws
nigh. She whom thou lovest will fly to thy arms speedily."
"Now of all the nonsense uttered by man, thou art talking the
uttermost," replied Prasad in angry accents. "Dost know, learned
Astrologer, that only this morning, after all that gibberish of thine
yesterday, I heard the worst news possible"?
The astrologer instead of displaying offense at such a disparaging
summary of his ability, appeared to expect the news.
"Noble sir," he argued in response. "That is as I anticipated. It often
happens that a clearing sky is preceded by a thunderstorm. If thou wilt
but hold thy patience for two days, then the moment for a determined
action will have come."
"How do you mean"? asked Prasad doubtfully.
"Noble Lord," continued the astrologer in a confidential manner. "First
I must have thy assurance that thou wilt not disclose a word of what I
am about to unfold to thy illustrious host, Ahmad Khan.
"In truth he is thy friend, but in the enterprise which it will be well
for thee to undertake, he will render thee no assistance, on account of
a certain oath he has taken."
Prasad appeared to resume an interest in the astrologer's words.
"Proceed quickly," he urged. "Thou hast my promise."
"Then great sir," continued the astrologer. "Be pleased to know, that
the fair one with whom thou art enamored, lies under the influence of
one from whom she would gladly be delivered. If thou wert to repair to
her side accompanied by a few trustworthy followers, at a favorable
hour, she would hail thy appearance with joy, and thou couldst subdue
thine enemy with ease."
"Come, learned Astrologer," interposed Prasad, his humor brightening
perceptibly. "Now I realize thou art a man of action, and consequently
a man of sense. Speak more plainly how thou wouldst advise. Be assured
thou wilt be rewarded relatively with my success."
"Little further is there to say, noble Singh," returned the astrologer
"except that the signs in the heavens declare midnight two days from
hence to be the auspicious moment."
Prasad thought deeply for some minutes. At last he again spoke:
"Secluded here as I am, sage Doctor, it would be difficult for me to
arrange the plan of action. I would that you suggest one for me."
The astrologer glanced round suspiciously as if to note that they were
not overheard.
"That is an easy matter, noble Lord," he replied. "If thou wilt keep
in mind my injunction not to breathe a word of it to Ahmad Khan, and
repair to the tomb of Firoz Khan, nigh the temple of Siva, overlooking
the lake at one hour before midnight, I will arrange to have two or
three good fellows to meet thee there. A greater number would arouse
suspicion at the gate, but for thy purpose they will be sufficient. The
palace will be asleep, and thine enemy taken off his guard."
"Thou seemest to know well the secrets of this affair, learned
Astrologer," remarked Prasad.
"Such is my profession, noble sir," replied Mohurran Goshi, with a note
of pride in his voice.
Prasad again buried himself in thought before he spoke.
"Yes, learned Doctor," he rejoined finally. "If thou art sure thou
canst aid me in the way suggested, I have more than made up my mind to
follow thy counsel."
A momentary flicker of satisfaction crossed the astrologer's crafty
face.
"As certain, noble sir," he replied emphatically, "as that the sand in
the hour glass of thine enemy's fortune hath all but emptied itself
into the lower vessel."
"Then I will be there," decided Prasad, "at the appointed place and
hour."
"Good, noble Lord," exclaimed the astrologer. "Be assured I, too, will
keep my part of the agreement. Hast thou taken the medicinal pills
regularly"? he asked with professional concern.
"To the devil with all pills and ointments," retorted Prasad. "My
stomach yearns for other diet."
"Nevertheless, sir," enjoined the astrologer in his character of
physician. "They possess among other virtues that of stimulating the
heart with courage."
"I want no such stimulants," retorted Prasad. "An enchanting form ever
present in my mind is stimulant enough for any act requiring courage.
If they would only assist me in controlling my impatience for the hour
to come, then I might regard them as of some benefit."
"That they will also do, noble sir," asserted the astrologer. "Their
extraordinary value lies in the fact that they are beneficial for any
bodily or mental ailment."
"Then they must be as remarkable in virtue as they are in price,"
returned Prasad tersely.
He took a jewel from his turban and handed it to the astrologer.
"This," said he, "is but a small portion of the reward I will bestow
upon thee, if thy plan turns out as well as it promises."
The astrologer expressed his gratitude in effusive terms.
"But be careful that not even the walls shall hear of it"? he enjoined.
"Fear not," replied Prasad. "At an hour before midnight I will be at
the tomb of Firoz Khan on the day after to-morrow. See to it that the
men are awaiting me."
"Without fail, noble sir," reasserted the astrologer.
He solemnly called down a thousand benedictions upon Prasad's head,
_salaamed_, and with an air of profound mystery, retired to seek his
bullock cart.
"Now," ejaculated Prasad triumphantly. "We will see how this Dost
Ali can be brought to an accounting in spite of Ahmad's qualms of
conscience."
He called for a goblet of the Foreigners' wine, and drank with evident
appreciation of its quality.