"As if a wheel had been in the midst of a wheel."
_Ezekiel_ x. 10.
Roger's cheery optimism was an excellent thing in itself. Nevertheless,
the best of good-will cannot withstand the logic of hard fact, and
prolonged discussion of the means whereby Fra Pietro might be rescued
revealed an undertaking bristling with difficulties. After extracting
from da Silva all the material information he possessed, they considered
a hundred varying expedients, rejecting one proposal after another until
they almost despaired of hitting upon any scheme which offered even a
remote chance of success.
They took Jai Singh into their confidence. Unless he and his Rajputs
yielded willing help it was hard indeed to see what could be done. Two
and twenty men, well mounted, might, if fortunate, achieve something:
two men alone, with hundreds against them, were utterly powerless.
It was whilst Jai Singh was strenuously opposing Sainton's suggestion of
a direct attack that Walter, inspired by idle chance, hit upon a plan
the very daring of which commended itself to them. To be sure, Roger
long remained stubborn ere he would agree to it. At last he yielded.
Admittedly, the project was a forlorn hope, yet none other they could
propound gave such promise of speedy realization, and nothing could
shake their resolve that Fra Pietro must be saved.
The horses were quietly disembarked; by present payment, and promise of
greater reward, a guide was obtained from the village; and the whole
party, less da Silva and three trustworthy men, set off under the
starlight to march across country by field paths. The three Rajputs who
remained behind were charged to safeguard the boats and prevent any
enterprising villager from carrying news to the distant column. Da Silva
was left not only because he was paralyzed with fright at the bare
thought of falling again into the hands of his captors, but also on
account of the suspicion his presence in their company would arouse.
Before daybreak they reached the main road, a dust-laden track with
slight pretense to the characteristics of a highway other than the
occasional felling of trees and the cutting of an approach wherever the
steep banks of a nullah offered a barrier to the passage of a caravan.
If it had none of the virtues it held full measure of the vices
inseparable from traffic. Though animals alone, camels for the most
part, carried Indian merchandise over long distances, the ryots were
wont to use heavy two-wheeled carts, drawn by oxen, and the numerous
ruts left by these caused the so-called road to bear more semblance to a
ploughed field than the land which was actually tilled, as the Indian
plough merely scratches the ground and leaves no furrow.
The whole party halted at some distance from the road itself. It was
essential that the presence of a body of horse should not be discovered,
so, at this point, Mowbray and Sainton bade each other farewell. Never
before, during their many wanderings, had they separated in the course
of any enterprise which threatened disaster or death.
Walter handed to his disconsolate friend the box of jewels.
"If things go awry," he said, with a smile, "you will be the last to
fall, Roger."
"Aye, lad," was the rueful response. "I am doubting now lest we ought
not to hunt together."
"Your heart says so, but your head warns you that we have chosen the
better way. Good-by!"
"Good-by, Walter, and may the Lord be with you!"
Accompanied by a single Rajput trooper, a brave youth specially
recommended by Jai Singh, Walter turned his horse's head towards the
road. The others, led by their guide, rode off into the jungle, where
they were speedily lost to sight.
Soon the sun, dissipating the dawn-mist, disclosed a cloud of dust
rising slowly from the track some two miles southwards. Walter advanced
at a walking pace. He was dressed with unusual care. His long sword was
slung from a handsome baldrick; Sher Afghan's dagger shone in his belt;
a cloak of quilted silk, trimmed with rich fur, hung from his shoulders.
These accessories, together with his plumed hat, heavy riding boots, and
attire of dark brown cloth, gave a distinguished appearance to one whose
face and figure proclaimed him a cavalier of high lineage. His
attendant, too, had donned the state livery of his former master. The
two were superbly mounted, and well calculated, by their style and
bearing, to take by surprise the leader of a rabble host marching
through a country where all was new to his eyes.
For Mowbray, as shall be seen, had prepared his measures judiciously.
When he sighted the mounted vanguard of the convoy he clapped spurs to
his horse, and, followed by his orderly, galloped towards them at a
rapid pace. Pulling up within a few yards of the astonished soldiers,
who were already consulting as to the identity and errand of this
unlooked-for embassy, he shouted sternly:--
"Halt, in the Emperor's name! Bring Abdul Aziz hither at once!"
He calculated that this assumption of authority would not be questioned,
nor was he mistaken.
"It is not known to your honorable presence that Abdul Aziz remains at
Hughli," said one who was the captain of the guard.
Mowbray exhibited well-feigned surprise.
"If not Abdul Aziz--for which he may thank the Prophet--who commands
you?"
"Nawab Fateh Mohammed, his nephew, your Excellence."
"Pass the word to halt, then, and ride at speed to bring him hither."
Fair Europeans, particularly Englishmen, were rarer than white
blackbirds in India at that period. The Portuguese invaders were, for
the most part, so swarthy as to rival the brown skin of the natives.
Never had the Musalman officer encountered a man of such mien and
semblance, who, moreover, spoke the aristocratic language of the court
in all its sonorous purity. Nevertheless, it was passing strange that
the Emperor should choose such a messenger.
"Forgive me, your Honor," he stammered, "but I must have some authority
before I--"
"Does Jahangir need to speak twice by my mouth? Am I to exhibit the seal
of the Conqueror of the World to the first who questions me?"
The officer simply could not withstand Mowbray's grand air. He civilly
asked the other to await his return, gave some orders to the guard, and
vanished in the dust-cloud which enshrouded the remainder of the column.
Walter saw that the troopers surrounded him as if by accident. He paid
not the slightest attention to the maneuver, but took off his hat and
fanned his face nonchalantly. Behind him, the Rajput sowar sat his horse
like a carved statue. Scarce comprehending what enterprise was forward,
knowing little save that he would surely swing from the nearest tree if
he kept not a still tongue and obeyed orders, the native soldier took
his cue from his master in the matter of disregarding the ring of steel
which girt them both.
But Nawab Fateh Mohammed must have hurried, judging from the speed of
his approach on a long-striding camel, which loomed out of the dust so
suddenly that there was barely time to stop the lumbering beast and
avoid a collision. The nawab was a stout man, though young, and it was
his ambition to make his way in life quickly. This laudable aim arose,
however, from a base intent. The more wealth he amassed in a little time
the more speedily could he gratify his ignoble passions. Such a person
is usually hectoring towards his inferiors and servile to those above
him. At present he was all of a twitter owing to the unexpected presence
of a messenger from the Emperor, whilst his informant had not failed to
apprise him of Mowbray's imperative mien and the half-veiled menace of
his words.
Luckily, Walter took the man's measure at a glance. Here was one
designed by nature to play the cowardly tyrant, and such a personality
was far better suited to his purpose than a straightforward soldier, who
would have obeyed his own chief's instructions and cared not for
consequences.
So the _soi-disant_ courier of Jahangir saluted the nawab with dignity
and said:--
"Be pleased to dismount and walk apart with me. His Majesty's words are
not for all ears."
Fateh Mohammed, although nervous, felt slightly flattered. It was new to
him to be addressed in that way. He glanced at the single Rajput trooper
who held Mowbray's horse, and saw forty of his own men within instant
call, so he had no fear in his mind other than that instilled by the
vague threats conveyed to him by the leader of the guard, who now stood
near and watched the nawab for a signal.
He followed Walter willingly enough until they could not be overheard if
they spoke in low tones.
"Information has reached the Emperor," began Walter, "that Abdul Aziz,
whilst carrying out the royal mandate to prevent the encroachments of
Portuguese traders in Bengal, attacked and burnt the settlement at
Hughli, killed many of the inhabitants, and despatched the survivors,
numbering some hundreds, to the Imperial court at Agra."
"The Shadow of Allah did indeed--"
"Better hear me first," interposed Mowbray, with a serious smile. "It is
most fortunate that Abdul Aziz himself does not march with the convoy;
otherwise, my mission would be of a different nature. Of course, you
have not heard of recent occurrences in the Emperor's household?"
"No, but my uncle--"
"Even he could not be aware that the beautiful Nur Mahal, whose
fascination for Jahangir is known to all India, would become a widow,
and hence regain her ascendency at court. It is true. Her husband, Sher
Afghan, is dead. She herself is Sultana by this time, and her first act
has been to free all the European prisoners in Agra, Delhi, and other
cities, whose bondage was the result of Jahangir's earlier policy. Judge
for yourself what she will say when she hears of the excesses committed
by Abdul Aziz. The Emperor, knowing your uncle, dreaded the account of
his actions, but he dreads much more the frown of Nur Mahal. Hence, I
have been despatched with a double mission. Had Abdul Aziz been present
in person I had no choice but to deal with him harshly. In his absence
it is my more pleasant duty to bid you explain to the captives in your
charge that a terrible mistake has been made. They must be treated with
all courtesy and attention, and, indeed, brought to see, before they
reach Agra, that it is the special design of the Emperor to recompense
them in every way."
"Then they are not to be set at liberty?" gasped Fateh Mohammed, who had
been so carried away by Mowbray's announcement that he quite forgot to
ask for any verification of it.
"In a sense, yes. They are to be clothed, fed, and provided with means
of conveyance in such manner as to show that they are the Emperor's
guests. But they must go to Agra. It could not be otherwise. They must
be maintained fittingly until order is restored in Bengal, their ruined
houses rebuilt, and means taken to insure their future safety. Thus only
can Jahangir undo the evil deeds of Abdul Aziz."
"This intelligence--"
"Finds you unprepared. What is more natural? But the downfall of one
man oft opens the door of opportunity to another. The Emperor is
free-handed. He rewards as fully as he punishes. Leave to me the
pleasing task of informing him how quickly you fulfilled his behests
to the last letter."
"It shall be so, in very truth. Yet your lordship sees the difficulties
that confront me."
"I am bidden help you dispel them. I have money and fair words at
command. Be sure that neither a mule nor a woman can resist such
pleading. But let all clemency come through you in the Emperor's name."
Fateh Mohammed flushed deeply under his bronze skin. He pursed his lips
and set his feet apart. A dazzling vista opened before his mind's eye.
He pictured Abdul Aziz, whose severe tenets he loathed in so far as they
restrained his own gross desires, swinging from a _nim_ tree, while a
mourning nephew journeyed back in state to take up an assured position.
Mowbray watched him narrowly. He saw the man's vanity puffing him up
like the frog in the fable, and he could scarce restrain a smile at the
thought that, in all probability, this fantastic scheme would actually
result in the way he had described. But it was necessary to strike while
the iron glowed, so he continued impressively:--
"Above all things, keep your own counsel. You and I can be discreet. If
others know your mind they have you at a disadvantage, for they can
shape their conduct to further their own ends while skilfully defeating
yours."
"The Emperor's wishes shall be locked within my heart," said the other
in a tone of absolute confidence.
"'Tis well! I will accompany you to the prisoners--Jahangir's
guests--after despatching my attendant to summon my escort."
"Your escort?"
"Surely you cannot imagine that the Emperor's courier rode with only one
sowar! You see he wears the livery of Sher Afghan, whose retinue is
placed at my disposal by Jahangir's own act."
Fateh Mohammed little guessed how literally true this statement was. He
knew naught of affairs at Agra, nor was he skilled in the new heraldic
fashions then penetrating the East. But the assumption that he was an
adept therein added the last drop to the cruse of oil which had been so
judiciously administered to him.
Having ascertained when the escort might be expected, he gave orders
that it was to be received with proper honor. As soon as the sowar had
ridden away north, _ventre a terre_, the two grandees mounted and
proceeded slowly through the ranks of the halted cavalcade.
Walter, chatting affably about the splendors of the court, counted two
hundred fairly serviceable horsemen, and half as many armed guards of
the baggage train. He estimated that a similar number would bring up the
rear, so the futility of a surprise attack by night, which Roger had
suggested, was now quite demonstrated. Even if a panic were created and
the host broke up in disorder, what could be done next day, and every
other day for weeks, by twenty men burthened with a host of helpless
captives, for da Silva's account made it certain that nearly all the
Portuguese soldiers had fallen in the first fierce fight at Hughli. The
whole country would be roused. Every Mahomedan would deem it a religious
duty to slay the Giaours, and they would all perish miserably. Yes, his
amazingly daring plan, now that the first barrier was passed, promised
ultimate success, and his heart throbbed at the thought that two
Englishmen, alone and almost unfriended in a powerful foreign land,
should have adopted such a mad device and carried it triumphantly to the
very gate of achievement.
For this was his scheme. He counted that, long ere this, Nur Mahal was
firmly established as the despot of a despot. He was sure that a woman
of cultured and artistic tastes would sway the shallow-minded King back
from his retrogade policy with regard to other nations. Therefore, the
instant Jai Singh heard that Fateh Mohammed had taken the pill so neatly
prepared for him, the Rajput and a couple of men would ride at utmost
speed to Agra and warn Nur Mahal as to the way in which Jahangir's
authority had been usurped. If she did not gainsay it, but promised to
make smooth their path, all would be well. If aught untoward happened,
Jai Singh was to collect as many of Sher Afghan's retainers as were
available, and ambuscade the caravan at some preconcerted place. They
would endeavor to secure the escape of those able-bodied prisoners who
could ride, the Europeans thereafter plunging recklessly into Central
India with the hope of reaching Bombay. If not all, some could be saved.
These alternatives each depended on Walter's primary success. If,
however, Fateh Mohammed were suspicious or actively hostile--it was
thought he would not dare do more than detain Mowbray until his
pretended mission were justified or otherwise--then the only course
which remained open was a surprise attack at midnight, of which Mowbray
would privily warn all whom he could trust in order to create a
diversion. Here, obviously, lay the chief risk of failure. But Mowbray
steadily believed in his theory that Nur Mahal would so mold Jahangir's
mind that Fateh Mohammed would be acclaimed as a most judicious person
when he reached Agra, and, by consequence, that he himself and Sainton
would have no difficulty in proceeding to the west coast by the direct
overland route. At any rate, granted the less favorable outcome, they
made sure of saving Fra Pietro, who, after all, most enlisted their
sympathies.
And now the sowar was speeding to the agreed rendezvous to apprise Roger
and Jai Singh that all had gone well thus far. No wonder Mowbray felt
elated, and that his confident air left room in Fateh Mohammed's brain
for no shadow of suspicion. But his gaiety, subdued and decorous as
became a person who ranked high in the trust of a king, was rudely
dispelled by the first sight of the wo-begone prisoners. He first
encountered a batch of men each chained securely after the manner in
which da Silva was manacled, but now bound together by strips of
cowhide, since, apparently, a few had escaped like the half-caste. They
were haggard, foot-sore and in rags. Poor souls, they had taken
advantage of the unexpected halt to lie down again in the dust. Such was
their misery that they had lost all human interest. They looked at
Walter and his companion with lack-luster eyes, like those on the point
of death who retain some glimmer of consciousness yet have already
quitted the living world.
Fateh Mohammed, giving a sidelong glance at Jahangir's envoy, saw the
stern frown in his face and began to explain.
"Abdul Aziz is a hard man," he murmured. "He gave his orders and I could
only obey."
Mowbray stifled his rage. He must play his part to the end.
"Of course," he said, "there were difficulties. This is no time to tell
these unfortunates of the Emperor's regret. Order them to be freed and
given good food. Then let them rest all this day until horses and camels
are procured for to-morrow's march."
The stout commander obeyed instantly, with such denunciations of his
myrmidons and such appeals to the Prophet that his own men deemed him
temporarily insane, while some among the unhappy prisoners lifted their
heads to ascertain if they had heard aright.
The plight of the women was not so bad. None save the young and good
looking had been brought from Hughli. They were supplied with mules and
ponies, and were destined for the zenanas of such court favorites as
might take a fancy to them. All the older women had been massacred in
cold blood. There were girls who had lost their mothers, wives who had
seen their husbands cut to pieces before their eyes. Over them, too,
brooded a settled despair. Tears had long been dried. There remained
only a haunting terror of the future.
Prominent among them, if only on account of the richness of her soiled
garments, was the Countess di Cabota. Although she was, in Eastern eyes,
bewitching by reason of her fair skin, large brown eyes, and exceedingly
plump figure, she was undoubtedly over thirty years of age. Hence, she
owed her life to that which many another woman risks her life to avoid,
namely, a somewhat too pronounced development of a figure naturally
inclined to solidity.
The unhappy lady--perhaps by subtle operation of the principle _noblesse
oblige_--retained some degree of vivacity. Her glance no sooner fell on
Mowbray than she cried in Portuguese:--
"Mother of mercy! An Englishman of rank!"
Walter doffed his hat with ceremonious politeness.
"A friend, too, I trust, Countess," he said. "You may believe that, from
this moment, your sufferings have ended."
"Misericordia! how can that be?"
"His excellency the Nawab Fateh Mohammed will explain better than it is
possible for me to do."
Thus impelled, his "Excellency" did, indeed, give the Countess and her
companions a cheering message, which the half-caste women joyfully
interpreted for those who did not follow the native words with complete
understanding. Then, after many days, some broken hearts found relief
again in tears.
At last, not venturing to search too eagerly, yet missing none he passed
in this Via Dolorosa, Mowbray found the Franciscan. Utterly spent,
unable to move one foot before the other, Fra Pietro would have been
dead a week gone had not some bullock-driver, whose crushed fingers he
had dressed, lifted him into a grain cart and kept him there in defiance
of repeated advice to throw the Giaour into the jungle and let him glut
the jackals.
Nevertheless, the good monk, broken in body and exhausted for want of
food suited to his condition, had not benefited greatly by the jolting
repose thus given him. He was still exceedingly ill, and when Mowbray,
who knew him instantly, could not refrain from leaping to the ground and
bending over him, the parched blue-white lips were moving in fitful
prayer:--
"De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine!... Dona me requiem aeternam ...
Ostende me, Domine, misericordiam tuam!"
"The Lord has heard thee, good friend, though happily thy days of
eternal rest may be long deferred for the good of mankind," murmured
Walter to himself, for he dared not be too openly recognized by the
Franciscan, lest Fateh Mohammed should be moved to ponder upon all that
had taken place.
Yet something must be done, and quickly, too, if that flickering soul
were to stay in its earthly tabernacle.
He turned to the nawab.
"Here is one who, I have good reason to believe, will be highly esteemed
by the Sultana. He should be carried to a tent, given a little wine and
milk, and receive the most careful attendance. If, indeed, his name be
Fra Pietro, his life is of the utmost value to all concerned."
At each moment Fateh Mohammed saw how essential it was to adopt prompt
measures if he were to earn the good will of this masterful envoy. He
bestirred himself now to such effect that when Roger and the remaining
Rajputs, including the three left in the village (whence da Silva was
advised to go down the river in one of the boats), marched into the
camp, there was an air of liveliness among the Europeans long absent
from their tortured existence, whilst Fra Pietro was sleeping peacefully
on a couch of soft furs.
Sainton's arrival created the customary stir. By none was he gazed on
with greater interest than by the Countess di Cabota. She vowed, by all
the saints, she had never seen such a man, and likened him to the
terrible Archangel who defied the fiends when they would have assaulted
heaven.
To Fateh Mohammed the sight of this unexampled specimen of humanity,
joined to the appointments and smart appearance of Sher Afghan's
horsemen, gave the last proof, if further proof were needed, that
Jahangir's delegate was indeed a person to be treated with deference. He
became dog-like in his servility, and transformed his train from a band
of ruffianly jailers into a troupe of servitors, each and all being
anxious to win the friendship of those whom formerly they goaded to
madness or insensibility.
Mowbray's word was law, his least wish was executed. Within three days,
after fraternizing judiciously with others, he and Sainton were able to
visit Fra Pietro. The meeting between them was joyful indeed. The
Franciscan, when he regained faculties bewildered by recognition of
them, was moved to tears. To him, because he spoke English, they could
talk without reserve, and his breath came fast with alarm when he
learned what they had done for him.
"Nay, nay!" protested Roger, "fear not that we shall come to an ill end
because we took a risk on your account. They tell me you are here owing
to the timely aid you gave us, and, by that same token, our arch enemy,
Dom Geronimo, is now laid by the heels at Agra. I know not who cast the
net which gathered us all in this God-forgotten land, but, by the cross
of Osmotherly, he hath hauled together some queer fish."
"Have you met Dom Geronimo? Does he know of your presence in India?"
"Trust him for that. He hath the sight of a vulture where friend Mowbray
is concerned."
"I attribute to him some part of the bad fortune which has pursued us,"
said Walter, and, the topic thus broached, he gave the Franciscan a full
account of all occurrences since Roger and he first crossed the portals
of Dilkusha.
The monk listened intently, only interposing a question at times when
the changeful moods of Nur Mahal seemed to puzzle him. He was surprised
to learn that the Jesuit had succeeded, even temporarily, in gaining the
ear of Jahangir, for, as he said in his mild way:--
"Dom Geronimo is too zealous. It was his intemperate acts which unfitted
him for the Holy Office in Europe, and he was despatched to India, a
country which offered a more suitable field for one whose fiery ardor
knew no bounds. Therefore, it is hard to see how such a man could win
his way with the Emperor."
When, after conversing until a late hour, Fra Pietro thoroughly
understood the nature of their present undertaking, he again urged them
to consider the danger they incurred.
"You have already done more than I thought possible for mortal man to
achieve," he said. "Why not, on some good pretext, ride on in front of
the column and leave the success or failure of your scheme in the hands
of Providence? If all goes well we shall be treated with the same
consideration. Should there be aught amiss you will be far away on the
road to the sea."
"Where your life is at issue, we bide with you and you with us until the
die is cast," said Walter, firmly. Then they left him, carrying with
them his blessing, and regained the spacious tent allotted to their use
by the obsequious Fateh Mohammed. They slept soundly at night, and were
not troubled by anxious forebodings. Jai Singh and his followers could
not reach them on the return from Agra for at least ten more days at the
best rate of traveling. Not until they had his budget could they decide
definitely as to their future.
But these things are oft settled for men by a Power to whom the comings
and goings of a Jai Singh are of little account. And it was so now, for,
when Mowbray and Sainton awoke in the morning, they found their swords
removed, their daggers withdrawn from the sheaths, and they saw twenty
muskets leveled at them through the open door of the tent.
Behind the file of musketeers stood Fateh Mohammed, livid with rage, yet
with a certain gratified malice sparkling in his eyes.
"Ohe," he yelled, when Roger, missing his sword, gazed steadily at the
phalanx without, "ohe, Elephant, thy tricks have led thee into the
_kheddah_.[K] Stir hand or foot, resist those who will bind thee by so
much as a refusal to submit thy limbs to the fetters, and thou shalt be
pierced by a dozen balls."
[Footnote K: The enclosure in which wild elephants are captured.]
Walter, roused by the bellowing, raised himself on one arm. Instantly he
realized that Fateh Mohammed had found out the ruse of which he was the
dupe.
"Roger," said he, quietly, "we have been betrayed!"
"Aye, lad, and by a woman, I fear. What sayest thou? Shall we die here
or in Agra?"
"I care little. Have it which way you will."