The clue spoken of by John Raby lay in the note for a thousand rupees
with which Colonel Stuart had paid a portion of his card debts during
his last deal in the great game. It proved to be not only one of the
missing notes, but, as luck would have it, the very one about the
number of which uncertainty existed. The figures stood as the Colonel
had written them; so the mistake lay with the usurer, if it was really
a mistake. John Raby lit a cigarette and meditated, with the list
before him; but beyond an odd persistency in threes and fives, the
figures presented no peculiarity. So he set the problem aside till he
could tackle it on the spot where it had arisen; for he was a great
believer in scenery as an aid to the senses.
The day was almost done, however, ere he found leisure for the task;
nevertheless, fatigued as he was, he set to work methodically and was
rewarded by the immediate discovery that uncertainty existed as to the
number of another note, the one which had been paid in by some one
else. The entry had been blotted by the hasty closing of the ledger,
and though it read like 159934, it was quite conceivable that it might
be something else. Again those threes and fives! Idly enough he wrote
the two uncertainties on a sheet of paper, and sat staring at them
till suddenly a suggestion came to him, making him re-write the number
given by Shunker in close imitation of the dead man's bold black
figures, and then deliberately blot it by placing it in the ledger.
The result bore so close a resemblance to the blurred entry that his
quick brain darted off in a wonder how the usurer had got hold of the
number of a note which he had not paid in. No reasonable explanation
suggesting itself, he began a systematic search in the waste paper
basket; the scraps there would at least tell him on what work the
Colonel had been engaged during his last day. He knew that Shunker had
had an interview with him in the morning, but that did not account for
the shreds of a receipt for three thousand five hundred maunds of
grain which he found almost on the top. An old receipt dated some
months back; three thousand five hundred too--an odd coincidence! So
far good; the next thing was to have a sight of Shunker's face before
he had time to hear rumours or make plans.
The summons to come up for an interview early next morning rather
pleased the Lâlâ, for he received it while at the receipt of custom,
when it added to his importance in the eyes of the wedding guests who
sat watching a nautch girl sidle, like a pouter pigeon, over a strip
of dirty carpet. She was stout to obesity; her oiled hair was
plastered so as to narrow her forehead to a triangle; her voluminous
skirts ended just under the arms in a superfluity of bust. She held
one fat hand to her cheek persistently as if in the agonies of
toothache, while she yelled away as if the dentist had failed to
comfort her. Yet the best native society of Faizapore had sat there
for an hour and a half with the impassive faces of the Asiatic bent on
amusement; a face which surely will make Paradise dull work for the
_houris_.
"Yea! I will come to Raby if he needs me," assented the rich man,
turning with a spiteful chuckle to his right hand, where old Mahomed
Lateef sat solemn and dignified. "See you, Khân _sahib_, how even the
Sirkar favours money?"
"When I was young, Oh Shunker!" retorted the other grimly, "the hands
of Nikalsane and Jan Larnce held the sword too tight to leave room for
the rupees."
"Ay! when you Khâns of Kurtpore brought fifty swords to flash behind
theirs, without payment. Swords are bought nowadays, and those who
lack money must e'en go to the wall."
The old Mahomedan's eyes flared. "_Mashâllâh_, oh _buniah-ji_, if they
go to the wall in my poor house they will find swords enow! But
yesterday a hut fell--I mean 'twas pulled down for repairs--and we
came on five Persian blades![3] Ready to use, O Lâlâ-ji; no spot or
blemish of rust. Haply they may help back the rupees some day."
Shunker moved uneasily in his chair, and the guests sank again into
silence, broken only by the occasional tributary hiccup which native
etiquette demands for the memory of dinner. The stars shone overhead,
and a great trail of smoke from the brazier of oil and cotton-seed
seemed to mix itself up with the Milky Way. Little Nuttu, the hero of
the feast, had fallen asleep in his chair, his baby bride being
engaged in cutting her teeth elsewhere. A group of younger men,
squatted in the far corner round a flaring paraffin lamp, talked
vociferously in a mixed jargon of "individual freedom," "political
rights," and "representative government." And no one laughed or cried
at anything; neither at the nautch girl with her unmentionable songs,
nor the spectacle of people discussing freedom while engaged in taking
it away from two harmless infants.
So the night wore on in dull dissipation, leaving Shunker at a
disadvantage when he came to confront the young civilian's clear-cut,
clean-shaven face in the morning.
"You have made a mistake, Lâlâ-ji," he began, opening fire at once; "a
serious mistake about the notes you claim to have left with Colonel
Stuart." So much, at least, was certain; John Raby, however, saw more
in the unrestrained start of alarm which the surprise evoked. "It
isn't so very serious," he continued blandly; "nothing for you to be
so frightened about, Lâlâ-ji; we all make mistakes at times. By the
way, did you keep your original memorandum of the numbers in English
or Mâhâjani [accountant's character]?" "In Mâhâjani, _Huzoor_,"
bleated Shunker, and John Raby smiled. For this diminished the
possibility of clerical error enormously; indeed it was to settle this
point that he had sent for the usurer. "So much the better for you,"
he went on carelessly, "and if you will bring the paper to me this
evening, say about six, I'll see if we can get the error in your claim
altered. You have interchanged a five and a three in one number, and
it is as well to be accurate before the inquiry commences. It will be
a very stringent one. By the by, what time did you last see Colonel
Stuart?"
But the usurer was prepared this time, and when he finally bowed
himself out, John Raby was as much in the dark as ever in regard to
the details of a plot which he felt sure had been laid.
All day long in a sort of under-current of thought he was busy
ransacking memory and invention for a theory, coming back again and
again, disheartened, to the half-tipsy laugh with which Colonel Stuart
had given him the note, declaring it was a windfall. A windfall! what
could that mean! Had Shunker given it back? Then there must have been
a second interview; but none of the servants could speak to one. He
went over early to the office and sat in the dead man's chair trying
to piece things together. The shadows were beginning to cling to the
corners ere the usurer was announced, and something in the scared
glance he gave towards the tall figure in the seat of office convinced
John Raby that the man was reminded of another and similar visit to
that room. The quaver in hand and voice with which he produced his
day-book, and said that the _Huzoor's_ number was right after all,
clinched the matter.
"I suppose," remarked the young man coolly, "you were confused by the
other note." A random shot, but it struck home!
"_Huzoor!_" faltered the fat man.
John Raby looked him full in the face, and went one better; poker was
a game of which he was passionately fond. "The other note with the
threes and the fives which you saw,--which you got when,--I mean the
second time you came here--when you brought the receipt for the grain
which he destroyed--By Jove!" He threw his hand up, and a light came
into his face. "Fool not to see it before--the receipt,--the _wrong_
receipt of course."
"But he never gave me the money; I swear he didn't!" protested
Shunker, completely off his guard.
His hearer broke into a fit of cynical laughter. "Thank you, Shunker,
thank you! Of course he gave you the money: I see it all; and as one
of the numbers were different, you improved on your original
memorandum, thinking you had made a mistake. Stay,--number 150034
wasn't your note. By Jove! he must have given you back the whole roll
of four thousand five hundred by mistake. You're a bigger blackguard
than I thought!"
"No, no!" cried the usurer, beside himself with fear of this
_shaitan_. "Only three! I swear it! I only picked up three."
"Thank you again, Lâlâ. You picked up three. Let me see; how was it?"
The young man rose, pacing the room quickly and talking rapidly.
"Stuart must have taken four from the safe. The windfall! by George!
the windfall. The Colonel must have thought Shunker had only taken
two. Well! you're a nice sort of scoundrel," he went on, stopping
opposite the usurer and viewing him with critical eyes. "So you gave
him the wrong receipt on purpose, and now claim a second payment, is
that it?"
Shunker collapsed to the floor as if every bone had left his body. "I
didn't,--I'll swear by holy Ganges, by my son's head--I didn't mean
it. I thought he would kill me, and I gave him the wrong receipt in my
hurry. Oh, sir, I swear--"
"Let go my legs, you fool, or I shall! Stand up, and don't let your
teeth chatter. I'm not going to kill you. So you weren't even a good
scoundrel, Shunker, only a pitiful fortune-finder. Having done a
clever trick by mistake, you thought it safe to claim the money again,
as the only witness was dead. And it was safe, but for that chance of
the other note! It was hard luck, Lâlâ-ji, hard luck!"
There was something almost uncanny in John Raby's jeering smile as he
threw himself into a chair and began to light one of his eternal
cigarettes. The fact being that he was elated beyond measure at his
own success, and unwilling to detract, as it were, from his own skill
by any hint of carelessness on the other side.
"And now, Shunker," he asked, his chief attention being apparently
given to his tobacco, "what do you intend to do?" Coolly as he spoke,
he was conscious of inward anxiety; for he had rapidly reviewed the
position, and confessed himself impotent should the usurer regain the
courage of denial, since any attempt to prove the facts must bring to
light his own possession of the unlucky note. His best chance
therefore was to work on the Lâlâ's terror without delay.
"I throw myself on your honour's mercy," quavered the usurer in a dull
despairing tone, knowing by experience that it was but a broken reed
on which to rely.
"You don't deserve any; still there are reasons which incline me to be
lenient. Your son is young to be deprived of a father's care; besides,
as the Colonel _sahib's_ executor, I do not wish to have a committee
of inquiry in the office. You understand?"
"_Sahib_, I understand." This eminently sensible view of the matter
was as welcome as it was unexpected.
"Therefore I shall be content if you withdraw your claim, in some
credible way of course. Equally, of course, you will sign a
confession, which I will burn when--"
"But, _sahib_, how--?"
"Not another word. I particularly do not wish to know what you are
going to do; but I haven't lived seven years in India without being
aware how things _can_ be burked."
"If the _sahib_ would only tell me--"
"I tell you to burke it! Why, man, if I only had _your conscience_ all
things would be possible; I'd make money even out of this. I'll help
you so far. You have somehow or another to restore certain notes, the
numbers of which are known. I happen to have traced one of these
already, and you happen to have got hold of a wrong one. I will
exchange. If you haven't got it about you,--ah! I see you have; that
is a great saving of trouble."
A quarter of an hour later John Raby wrote a few lines to Major
Marsden's successor enclosing a thousand-rupee note which he had found
in an unexpected place in Colonel Stuart's office, adding his belief
that the others would doubtless turn up ere long, and suggesting a few
days' grace in order that a thorough search might be made.
"Never lie if you can help it," he said to himself sardonically. "That
dear old prig Marsden would be shocked at my squaring this business,
though at one stage of the proceedings he tried to do so himself. What
the devil would be the good of an inquiry to any living soul? And as
I've lost a thousand in avoiding one, no one could accuse me of
interested motives. Marsden and I row in the same boat, and if I had
had as much money as he has!-- Well, she is a dear little girl, and
that's a fact."
He called on the dear little girl after leaving the office, and
comforted her greatly by general expressions of hope. They made her
almost more grateful to him than any certainty would have done, for
they showed a more perfect trust in her father's integrity. So even
the young man's caution told in his favour, and he went home very well
satisfied with himself, to await the final explanation that was to
emanate from the Lâlâ's fertile brain. The notes would be found
somewhere, no doubt; or else in looking over his accounts he would
discover a like sum owing to Government which would cause the
disappearance of the apparent deficiency.
But amid all his terror, the Lâlâ had noted John Raby's assertion
that, given a certain conscience, he could make money out of the
restitution; and these idle words stood between him and many a
solution of the difficulty. His soul (if he had one) was full of hate,
a sense of defeat, and a desire for revenge. If only he could devise
some plan by which he could retain the plunder, especially that
thousand-rupee note the white-faced _shaitan_ had given him in
exchange!
Dawn found him still in the upper chamber alone with his faithful
jackal. There was determination in his face and dogged resistance in
Râm Lâl's.
"Fool!" whispered the usurer. "If I fall, where art thou? And I swear
I will let the whole thing go. I have money,--thou hast none. It is
only a year without opium or tobacco, Râmu, and the wife and children
well cared for meanwhile. Are you going to back out of the agreement,
unfaithful to salt?"
"A year is ten years without opium, Lâlâ; and there is no need for
this. I am the scapegoat, it is true, but only for safety."
"Son of owls!" cursed the usurer, still under his breath. "It is for
safety, thy safety as well as mine. For if thou wilt do as I bid thee,
it will tie that _shaitan's_ hands; and if they be not tied, they will
meddle. Besides, the _sahib-logue_ are never satisfied without a
scapegoat, and if some one go not to jail they will inquire; and then,
Râmu, wilt thou fare better? 'Twill be longer in the cells, that is
all. Opium can be smuggled, Râmu! See, I promise five rupees a month
to the warder, and a big caste dinner when thou returnest from the
father-in-law's house [a native euphemism for the jail]. And listen,
Râmu--"
So the whispered colloquy went on and on through the hot night, and
during the course of the next day John Raby was asked to sign a
search-warrant for the house of one Râmu Lâl, who was suspected by his
master, Shunker Dâs, of having stolen the missing notes from Colonel
Stuart's office-table. For a moment the young man, taken aback by this
unexpected turn of affairs, hesitated; but reflection showed him that,
for all he could prove to the contrary, the crime might have been
committed. At least there would be time enough for interference at a
later stage of the proceedings. So Râmu and his house were searched; a
note for five hundred rupees was found on his person, and two previous
convictions against him promptly produced by the police.
The discovery of but one, and that the smallest, note gave John Raby
the key to Shunker's plan; for if it could be proved that the money
had been stolen after it had been duly handed over to the Commissariat
officer, the Lâlâ's claim would remain intact. Thus he would be the
gainer by exactly three thousand rupees. Some of this would of course
go towards indemnifying the scapegoat; but Râmu was notoriously the
contractor's jackal, and bound to take such risks.
What was to be done? It was maddening to be outwitted in this manner,
but after all no one was really the worse for it. Râmu had evidently
been squared: Shunker was bound to escape in any case; and Government
had gained all round. Practically speaking, he and Marsden were the
only sufferers; the latter in having paid up ten thousand rupees which
the authorities must otherwise have lost; he, in having restored one
thousand out of his honest earnings. Besides, he had forced Shunker to
disgorge another five hundred; in fact, but for him and his _écarté_
the fraud could not have been discovered. Surely that was enough for
any man to do; especially as one disclosure must lead to another, and
in that case Government would have to pay Marsden back his money. All
of which devious but straightforward arguments ended in John Raby
taking care that the case should be tried in another court; which it
was and successfully. Râm Lâl, confronted by a mass of evidence
ingeniously compounded after native fashion from truth and
falsehood,--from the denials of honest people who could not possibly
have seen anything, and the assertions of those who were paid to have
seen everything,--pleaded guilty to having watched his master give the
money to Colonel Stuart, who, being in a hurry, had placed it in an
envelope-box on the writing-table, whence Râmu, returning after dark,
had taken it "in a moment of forgetfulness" [the usual native excuse].
Here the Lâlâ interrupted the Court to say in a voice broken by
emotion that Râmu was a faithful servant, a very faithful servant
indeed.
So the jackal got eighteen months for the theft, and Shunker drove
down next morning to the jail on a visit of inspection and took the
opportunity of presenting one of the warders with five rupees.
The net result of the whole affair, from a monetary (that is to say
from John Raby's) point of view, being that Shunker gained three
thousand rupees, the Government six thousand and odd, while Philip
Marsden lost over nine, and he himself forfeited one. He did not count
other gains and losses; not even when a day or two after the trial he
stood, with Belle's hand in his, saying good-bye to her ere she
departed to the hills. The _gharri_ waited with its pile of luggage
outside in the sunlight; poor Healy's Mary Ann, who was to accompany
her to Rajpore, was arranging the pillows and fussing over the
position of the ice-box which was to ensure comfort.
"I can't thank you," said the girl tearfully, her pretty eyes on his.
"I wish I could, but I can't."
"Perhaps you may,--some day," he replied vaguely, wishing it were
possible. "After all I did nothing; it was clear from the first that
there was a mistake."
"Some people did not see the clearness," she returned bitterly. "So
your kindness,--and--and confidence--were all the more welcome. I
shall never forget it."
Once more the young civilian was driven, by sheer keenness of
perception, to the position of an outsider who, seeing the game, sees
the odds also. "If I were you I'd forget all about it," he said, more
earnestly than was his wont. "It has been a bad dream from beginning
to end. When we all come back from the wars with a paucity of limbs
and a plethora of medals we can begin afresh. You look surprised. The
fact is I've just accepted a political berth with one of the forces,
and am off at once. I am glad; Faizapore will be dull when you are
gone."
"What a nice young gentleman a' be, miss," said poor Healy's Mary Ann
when he had seen them safely stowed away, and with a plunge and a wild
tootle of the coachman's horn they were dashing out of the gate. "So
cheerful like. He must a' suffered a deal 'imself for to keep up 'is
sperrits so in trouble. It's wonderful what one gets used to."
"He has been very good to me,--and to father," replied Belle softly.