Did he swear with his leg in a spring-steel trap
And a tongue dry-cracked from thirst?
Or down on his knees at his lady's lap
With the lady's lips to his own, mayhap,
And his head and his heart aburst?
Nay! I have listened to vows enough
And never the oath could bind
Save that, that a free man chose to take
For his own good reputation's sake!
They're qualified--they're tricks--they break--
They're words, the other kind!
MAHOMMED GUNGA had long ago determined to “go it blind” on Cunningham.
He had known him longest and had the greatest right. Rosemary McClean,
who knew him almost least of all, so far as length of time was
concerned, was ready now to trust him as far as the Risaldar dared go;
her limit was as long and as devil-daring as Mahommed Gunga's. Whatever
Scots reserve and caution may have acted as a brake on Duncan McClean's
enthusiasm were offset by the fact that his word was given; so far as
he was concerned, he was now as much and as obedient a servant of the
Company as either of the others. Nor was his attitude astonishing.
Alwa's was the point of view that was amazing, unexpected, brilliant,
soldierly, unselfish--all the things, in fact, that no one had the least
right to expect it to turn out to be. Two or three thousand men looked
to him as their hereditary chieftain who alone could help them hold
their chins high amid an overwhelming Hindoo population; his position
was delicate, and he might have been excused for much hesitation,
and even for a point-blank refusal to do what he might have preferred
personally. He and his stood to lose all that they owned--their
honor--and the honor of their wives and families, should they fight on
the wrong side. Even as a soldier who had passed his word, he might have
been excused for a lot of wordy questioning of orders, for he had enough
at stake to make anybody cautious.
Yet, having said his say and sworn a dozen God-invoking Rangar oaths
before he pledged his word, and then having pledged it, he threw Rajput
tradition and the odds against him into one bottomless discard and
proceeded to show Cunningham exactly what his fealty meant.
“By the boots and beard of Allah's Prophet!” he swore, growing
freer-tongued now that his liberty of action had been limited. “Here we
stand and talk like two old hags, Mahommed Gunga! My word is given. Let
us find out now what this fledgling general of thine would have us do.
If he is to release my prisoner, at least I would like to get amusement
out of it!”
So he and Mahommed Gunga swaggered across the courtyard to where
Cunningham had joined the McCleans again.
“We come with aid and not objections, sahib,” he assured him. “If we
listen, it may save explanations afterward.”
So at a sign from Cunningham they enlarged the circle, and the East
and West--bearded and clean-shaven, priest and soldiers, Christian and
Mohammedan--stood in a ring, while almost the youngest of them--by far
the youngest man of them--laid down the law for all. His eyes were all
for Rosemary McClean, but his gestures included all of them, and they
all answered him with nods or grunts as each saw fit.
“Send for the Sikh!” commanded Cunningham.
Five minutes later, with a lump of native bread still in his fist,
Jaidev Singh walked up and saluted.
“Where is Byng-bahadur now?” asked Cunningham.
“At Deeseera, sahib--not shut in altogether, but hard pressed. There
came cholera, and Byng-bahadur camped outside the town. He has been
striking, sahib, striking hard with all too few to help him. His
irregulars, sahib, were disbanded at some one's orders just before this
outbreak, but some of them came back at word from him. And there were
some of us Sikhs who knew him, and who would rather serve him and die
than fight against him and live. He has now two British regiments with
him, sadly thinned--some of my people, some Goorkhas, some men from the
North--not very many more than two thousand men all told, having lost
heavily in action and by disease. But word is going round from mouth to
mouth that many sahibs have been superseded, and that only real sahibs
such as Byng-bahadur have commands in this hour. Byng-bahadur is a man
of men. We who are with him begin to have courage in our bones again.
Is the answer ready? Yet a little while? It is well, sahib, I will rest.
Salaam!”
“You see,” said Cunningham, “the situation's desperate. We've got to
act. Alwa here stands pledged to protect Howrah and you have promised to
aid Jaimihr. Somebody's word has got to break, and you may take it from
me that it will be the word of the weakest man! I think that that man
is Jaimihr, but I can't be sure in advance, and we've got to accept his
promise to begin with. Go to him, Miss McClean, and make a very careful
bargain with him along the line I mapped out for you. Alwa-sahib, I want
witnesses, or rather overhearers. I want you and Mahommed Gunga to place
yourselves near Jaimihr's cell so that you can hear what he says. There
won't be any doubt then about who has broken promises. Are you ready,
Miss McClean?”
She was trembling, but from excitement and not fear. Both Rajputs
saluted her as she started back for the cell, and whatever their
Mohammedan ideas on women may have been, they chose to honor this one,
who was so evidently one of them in the hour of danger. Duncan McClean
seemed to be praying softly, for his lips moved.
When the cell-door creaked open, Alwa and Mahommed Gunga were crouched
one on either side, listening with the ears of soldiers that do not let
many sounds or words escape them.
“Jaimihr-sahib!” she whispered. “Jaimihr-sahib!”
“Ha! Sahiba!” Then he called her by half a dozen names that made the
listening Rangars grin into their beards.
“Jaimihr-sahib”--she raised her voice a little now--“if I help you to
escape, will you promise me my safety under all conditions?”
“Surely, sahiba!”
“Do you swear to protect every living person on this hill, including the
Alwa-sahib and Cunningham-sahib?”
“Surely, sahiba.”
“You swear it?”
“I swear it on my honor. There is no more sacred oath.”
“Then, listen. I can help you to escape now. I have a rope that is
long enough to lower you over the parapet. I am prepared to risk the
consequences, but I want to bargain with you for aid for my Countrymen.”
Jaimihr did not answer.
“The Alwa-sahib and his Rangars stand pledged to help your brother!”
“I guessed at least that much,” laughed Jaimihr.
“They would not help you against him under any circumstances. But they
want to ride to the Company's aid, and they might be prepared to protect
you against him. They might guarantee the safety of your palace and your
men's homes. They might exact a guarantee from Howrah.”
Jaimihr laughed aloud, careless of the risk of being overheard, and
Rosemary knew that Cunningham's little plan was useless even before
it had been quite expounded. She felt herself trembling for the
consequences.
“Sahiba, there is only one condition that would make me ride to the
British aid with all my men.”
“Name it!”
“Thou art it!”
“I don't understand you, Jaimihr-sahib,” she whispered, understanding
all too well.
“Follow me. Come to me in Howrah. Then whatever these fool Rangars
choose to do, I swear by Siva and the Rites of Siva that I will hurry to
the Company's aid!”
Rosemary McClean shuddered, and he knew it. But that fact rather added
to his pleasure. The wolf prefers a cowering, frightened prey even
though he dare fight on occasion. She was thinking against time. Through
that one small, overburdened head, besides a splitting headache, there
was flashing the ghastly thought of what was happening to her countrymen
and women--of what would happen unless she hurried to do something for
their aid. All the burden of all warring India seemed to be resting on
her shoulders, in a stifling cell; and Jaimihr seemed to be the only
help in sight.
“How many men could you summon to the Company's aid?” she asked him.
He laughed. “Ten thousand!” he boasted.
“Armed and drilled men--soldiers fit to fight?”
“Surely.”
“I think that is a lie, Jaimihr-sahib. There is not time enough to waste
on lies. Tell me the exact truth, please.”
He contrived to save his face, or, rather, he contrived to make himself
believe he did.
“I would need some to guard my rear,” he answered. “I could lead five
thousand to the British aid.”
“Is that the truth?”
“On my honor, sahiba.”
“And you wish to marry me?”
“Sahiba--I--I have no other wish!”
“I agree to marry you provided you will lead five thousand men to the
Company's aid, but not until you have done so.”
“You will come to Howrah?”
She could feel his excitement. The cell walls seemed to throb.
“Yes; but I shall come accompanied by my father, and Mr. Cunningham, and
all the Rangars he can raise. And I shall hold you to your bargain. You
must help the Company first. FIRST--d'you understand?”
“I understand.”
It was Jaimihr's turn now to lay the law down. She had let him see her
eagerness to gain his aid for the Company, and he saw the weakness of
her case in an instant. He knew very well, too, that no woman of her
breed would have thought of consenting to marry him unless her hand was
forced. He decided immediately to force it further.
“I understand, sahiba. I, too, will hold thee to thy promise! Thou wilt
come with an escort, as befits a prince's wife! But how should I know
that the Rangars would prove friends of mine? How should I know that it
is not all a trap?”
“You will have my promise to depend on.”
“Truly! And there will be how many hundred men to override the promise
of one woman? Nay! My word is good; my promise holds; but on my own
conditions! Help me to escape. Then follow me to Howrah City. Come in
advance of thy Rangar escort. By that I will know that the Rangars and
this Cunningham are my friends--otherwise they would not let thee come.
The Rangars are to exact guarantees from my brother? How should I know
that they do not come to help my brother crush me out of existence? With
thee in my camp as hostage I would risk agreement with them, but not
otherwise. Escape with me now, or follow. But bring no Rangars, sahiba!
Come alone!”
“I will not. I would not dare trust you.”
Jaimihr laughed. “I have been reckoning, sahiba, how many hours will
pass before my army comes to rip this nest of Alwa's from its roots, and
defile the whole of it! If I am to spare the people on this rock, then I
must hurry! Should my men come here to carry me away, they will be
less merciful than I! Choose, sahiba! Let me go, and I will spare these
Rangars until such time as they earn punishment anew. Or let me go, and
follow me. Then fight with the Rangars and for the Company, with thee as
the price of my alliance. Or leave me in this cell until my men come to
rescue me. The last would be the simplest way! Or it would be enough
to help me escape and wait until I have done my share at conquering the
British. Then I could come and claim thee! Choose, sahiba; there are
many ways, though they all end in one goal.”
“If I am the price of your allegiance,” said Rosemary, “then I will pay
the price. Five thousand men for the British cause are dearer to me than
my own happiness. I promise, Jaimihr-sahib, that I will come to you in
Howrah. I shall come accompanied by one servant, named Joanna, and--I
think--by my father; and the Rangars and Mr. Cunningham shall be at
least a day's ride behind me. I give my word on that. But--I can promise
you, on Mr. Cunningham's behalf, and on the Alwa-sahib's, and
Mahommed Gunga's, that should you have made any attempt against my
liberty--should you have offered me any insult or indignity--before
they come--should you have tried to anticipate the terms of your
agreement--then--then--there would be an end of bargaining and
promises, Jaimihr-sahib, and your life would be surely forfeit! Do you
understand?”
“Surely, sahiba!”
“Do you agree?”
“I already have agreed. They are my terms. I named them!”
“I would like to hear you promise, on your honor.”
“I swear by all my gods and by my honor. I swear by my love, that is
dearer to me than a throne, and by the name and the honor of a Rajput!”
“Be ready, then. I am going now to hide the rope in the shadow of the
wall. It will take perhaps fifteen minutes. Be ready.”
He made a quick movement to embrace her, but she slipped out and escaped
him; and he thought better of his sudden plan to follow her, remembering
that her word was likely to be good, whatever his might be. He elected
to wait inside until she returned for him. He little knew that he
missed the downward swing of Alwa's sabre, that was waiting, poised and
balanced for him, in the darkness by the door.
“Bismillah! I would have had a right to kill him had he followed her
and broken faith so early in the business!” Alwa swore, excusing his
impatience to Mahommed Gunga. “Have no fear, sahib!” he counselled
Cunningham a moment later, laying a heavy hand on the boy's arm. “Let
her keep her promises. That Hindoo pig will not keep his! We will
be after her, and surely--surely we will find good cause for some
throat-slitting as well as the cancelling of marriage promises!”
“Do you understand, Alwa-sahib, that--if Jaimihr keeps his promise to
her, she must keep hers to him? Do you realize that?”
“Allah! Listen to him! Yes, sahib. Truly, bahadur, I appreciate! I also
know that I have given certain promises which I, too, must fulfil! She
is not the only bargainer! I am worrying more about those guarantees
that Howrah was to give--I am anxious to see how, with fifteen hundred,
we are to get the better of a Rajah and his brother and their total of
ten thousand! I want to see those promises performed! Ay! The Miss-sahib
has done well. She has done her share. Let her continue. And do thou thy
share, bahadur! I am at thy back with my men, but give us action!”
Cunningham held up a lantern, and looked straight at Duncan McClean.
The missionary had held his daughter's hand while she recounted what had
happened in the cell. Whatever he may have thought, he had uttered no
word of remonstrance.
“Of course, we go to Howrah ahead of you,” he answered to Cunningham's
unspoken question.
Cunningham held out his right hand, and the missionary shook it.
“Hold the lamp, please,” said Cunningham, and Mahommed Gunga seized it.
Then Cunningham took paper and a pencil and read aloud the answer that
he wrote to Byng-bahadur. He wrote it in Greek characters for fear lest
it might fall into the enemy's hands and be too well understood.
“I can be with you in one week, sir, and perhaps sooner. Unless we are
all killed in the meantime we should number more than fifteen hundred
when we come. Expect either all or none of us. The situation here is
critical, but our course seems clear, and we ought to pull through.
Mahommed Gunga sends salaams. Your obedient servant,
“RALPH CUNNINGHAM.”
“Would God I could see the clear course!” laughed Alwa.
“Call the Sikh, please.”
The Sikh came running, and Cunningham gave him the folded note.
“Have you a horse for him, Alwa-sahib?”
“That has been attended to, sahib,” the Sikh answered. “The Alwa-sahib
has given me a wonder of a horse.”
“Very well, then, Jaidev Singh. Watch your chance. Go to the parapet,
and when you see by their lanterns that the cavalry below have ridden
off, then race for all you're worth with that news for Byng-bahadur!”
“Salaam, sahib!” said the Sikh.
“Salaam, Jaidev Singh. And now hide, every-body! Don't let Jaimihr get
the impression that we're playing with him.”
A little later Miss McClean led Jaimihr through a passage in the rock,
off which axe-hewn cells led on either side, to the far side of the
summit, where the parapet was higher but the wall was very much less
sheer. The Prince's arms were still too sore from the wrenching he
received when they took him prisoner for him to dare trust himself hand
over hand on a rope; she had to make the rope fast beneath his armpits,
and then lower him slowly, taking two turns with the rope round the
waist of a brass cannon. The Prince fended himself off the ragged wall
with hands and feet, and called up instructions to her as loudly as he
dared.
It was a tremendous drop. For the last fifty or more feet the wall rose
straight, overhung by a ridge that rasped the rope. And the rope proved
fifteen feet or more too short. Rosemary paid out as much of it as she
dared, and then made the end fast round the cannon, leaning over to see
whether Jaimihr would have sense enough or skill enough to cut himself
free and fall. But he hung where he was and spun, and it was five
minutes before Rosemary remembered that his weapons had all been taken
from him! It was scarcely likely that he could bite the thick rope
through with his teeth!
She stood then for two or three more minutes wondering what to do,
for she had no knife of her own, and she had made the rope
fast--woman-wise--with a true landlubber's knot that tightened from the
strain until her struggling fingers could not make the least impression
on it. But Alwa walked up openly--drew his heavy sabre--and saved the
situation for her.
“That may help to jog his recollection of the bargain!” he laughed,
severing the rope with a swinging cut and peering over to see, if he
could, how Jaimihr landed. By a miracle the Prince landed on his feet.
He sat down for a moment to recover from the shock, and then walked off
awkwardly to where his cavalry were sleeping by their horses.
He had some trouble in persuading the outposts who he really was, and
there was an argument that could be quite distinctly heard from the
summit of the rock, and made Alwa roar with laughter before, finally,
the whole contingent formed and wheeled and moved away, ambling toward
Howrah City at a pace that betokened no unwillingness.
Five minutes later the Sikh's horse thundered out across the plain from
under Alwa's iron gate, and the news, such as it was, was on its way to
Byng-bahadur.
“A clear road at the price of a horse-hide rope!” laughed Alwa. “Now for
some real man's work!”
Rosemary stole off to argue with her father and her conscience, but Alwa
went to his troopers' quarters and told off ten good men for the task
of manning the fortress in his absence. They were ten unwilling men; it
needed all his gruff authority, and now and then a threat, to make them
stay behind.
“I must leave ten men behind,” he insisted. “It takes four men, even at
a pinch, to lift the gate. And who shall guard my women? Nay, I should
leave twenty, and I must leave ten. Therefore I leave the ten best men I
have, and they who stay behind may know by that that I consider them the
best!”
The remainder of his troopers he sent out one by one in different
directions, with orders to rally every Rangar they could find, and at
a certain point he named. Then he and Mahommed Gunga said good-by to
Cunningham and took a trail that led in the direction where
most of the doubtfuls lived--the men who might need personal
convincing--rousing--awakening from lethargy.
“You think I ought to stay behind?” asked Cunningham, who had already
made his mind up but chose to consult Alwa.
“Surely, sahib. If for no other reason, then to make sure that that
priest of thine and his daughter make tracks for Howrah City! While he
is here he is a priest, and we Rangars have our own ideas on what they
are good for! When he is there he will be a man maneuvering to save his
own life and his daughter's reputation! See that he starts, sahib!”
He rode off then. But before Mahommed Gunga saw fit to follow him he
legged his charger close to Cunningham for a final word or two.
“Have no fear now, bahadur--no anxiety! Three days hence there will be
a finer regiment to lead than ever thundered in thy father's wake--a
regiment of men, sahib, for a man to lead and love!--a regiment that
will trust thee, sahib! See thou to the guarantees! Rung Ho, bahadur!”
“Rung Ho! See you again, Mahommed Gunga!”