For two days the Bagrees sat nursing their wrath at the reproaches of
Dewan Sewlal.
And the Dewan, in spite of his bold denunciation of the decoits, was
uneasy. If they went back to Karowlee with a story of ill treatment,
of broken promises, that hot-headed old Rajput would turn against
Sindhia. And the present policy of the Mahratta Confederacy was to
secure allies in the revolt against the British which was being
secretly planned. The Dewan was also afraid of Nana Sahib. He saw in
that young man a coming force. The Peshwa was actually the ruler of
Mahrattaland; he had a commanding influence because he was the head of
the Brahmins--the Brahmins were the real power--and his adopted son,
his inborn subtle nature developed by his residence in England, now had
great influence over him. The Dewan knew that; and if he failed to
carry out this mission of removing the dangerous one from Nana Sahib's
path it might cost him his place as Minister.
In his perplexity the Dewan asked Baptiste to formulate some excuse for
getting Nana Sahib up to Chunda--some matter affecting the troops, so
that he might casually get a sustaining suggestion from the wily Prince.
It so happened that when Nana Sahib swung up the gravelled drive to the
Sirdar's bungalow on a golden chestnut Arab, Sewlal was there. But
when, presently, Baptiste's _durwan_ came in to say that Jamadar Hunsa
of the new troops was sending his salaams to the Dewan, the latter
gasped. He would have told the Bagree to wait, but Nana Sahib,
catching the name Hunsa, commanded:
"By all means, my dear Baptiste, have that living embodiment of murder
in. His face is a delight. You know"--and he smiled at the
General--"that that frightfulness of expression is the very reason why
the genial Kali has such a hold upon our people. You've seen her,
Baptiste; four arms, one holding a platter to catch the blood that
drips from a head she suspends above it by another arm; the third hand
clasps a sword, and the fourth has the palm spread out as much as to
say, 'That is what will happen to you.'"
The Frenchman shivered. He was snapping a finger and thumb in mental
torture.
But Nana Sahib chuckled: "Her tongue protrudes thirsting for more
blood--"
But the Sirdar protested: "Prince--pardon, but--"
"My dear Baptiste, when the Hunsa comes in observe if these things are
not all stamped by Brahm on his frontispiece; he fascinates me."
The Dewan, devout Brahmin, had been running his fingers along a string
of lacquered beads that hung about his neck, muttering a prayer against
this that was like sacrilege.
When the jamadar was shown into the room his face took on a look of
uneasiness. It but added to the ferocity of the square scowling
massive head. His huge shoulders, stooped forward as he salaamed,
suggested the half-crouch of a tiger--even the eyes, the mouth, induced
thoughts of that jungle killer.
Nana Sahib, a sneer on his lips, turned to the Minister: "Play him,
Dewani, as you love us. There is some rare deviltry afloat."
"Why have you come, Jamadar?" the Dewan asked.
Hunsa's pig eyes shifted from Sewlal's face to roam over the other two,
and then returned a question in them.
"Tell him," Nana Sahib suggested, "that he has nothing to fear from us."
The jamadar was troubled by the English exchange, but the Dewan
explained: "The Prince says you are to speak what is on your mind."
"It is this, Sahib Bahadur," Hunsa began, "there is a way that the head
of Amir Khan might be obtained as a gift for Maharaja Sindhia. Then
Raja Karowlee would be pleased for he would receive his commission and
we would be given a reward."
"What is the way?" Sewlal queried.
"The Chief of the Pindaris, after the habit of Moslems, is one whose
heart softens toward a woman who is beautiful and is pleasing to his
eye."
"Ancient history," Nana Sahib commented in English, "and not confined
to Musselmen."
"Speak on," the Dewan commanded curtly.
"When I rode with Amir Khan," Hunsa resumed, "in loot there fell to the
Chief's share a dancing girl, and Amir Khan, perhaps out of respect to
his two wives, would visit her at night quietly in the tent that was
given her as a place of residing."
"Amir Khan seems to be less a Pindari and more a human than I thought
him," Nana Sahib commented drily.
"The world is a very small place, Prince," Baptiste added.
"But why has Hunsa brought this tale to men of affairs?" Sewlal queried.
Hunsa cast a furtive look over his shoulder toward the verandah, and
his coarse voice dropped a full octave. "The Presence has observed
Bootea, the one called Gulab Begum, who is with Ajeet Singh?"
"Ah-ha!" It was Nana Sahib's exclamation.
"Yes," the Dewan answered drily.
"If a party of Bagrees were to go to the Pindari camp disguised as
players and wrestlers, and the Gulab as a _nautchni_, Amir Khan might
be enticed to her tent for she causes men to become drunk when she
dances. Once she danced for Raja Karowlee, and, though he is old and
fat and has more of wives than other possessions he became covetous of
the girl. It is because of these things, that Ajeet keeps her within
the length of his eye. Thus the Gulab would hold Amir Khan in her
hand, and some night as he slept in her tent I would crawl neath the
canvas and accomplish that which is desired."
"By Jove!" Nana Sahib exclaimed, "this jungle man has got the right
idea. But if Ajeet goes on that trip he'll never come back--Hunsa will
see to that."
Then the son of the Peshwa took a quick turn to the door and gazed out
as if he had his Arab in mind--something wrong; but a sweet bit of
deviltry had suddenly occurred to him. He had noticed the young
Englishman's interest in Bootea; had known that the girl's eyes had
shown admiration for the handsome sahib. A woman--by Jove! yes. If he
could bring the two of them together; have the Gulab get Barlow
sensually interested she might act as a spy, get Barlow to talk. No
instrument like a woman for that purpose. Nana Sahib turned back to
where the Dewan had been questioning Hunsa.
"That description of the Gulab as a _nautch_ girl tickles my fancy,
Dewani," he said. "Between ourselves I think the Resident's jackal,
the impressionable young Captain, was rather taken with her. I'm
giving a _nautch_ this week, and the presence of Miss Gulab is
desired--commanded."
"But Ajeet--"
Nana Sahib smiled sardonically. "You and Hunsa are planning to send
her on a more difficult mission, so I have no doubt that this can be
accomplished. The Ajeet should esteem it an honour."
The Dewan, also speaking in English, said, "I doubt if Ajeet would
consent to the girl's going to the Pindari camp."
Nana Sahib swung on his heel to face Baptiste. "Sirdar, when you give
an order to a soldier and he refuses to obey, what do you do?"
"Pouf, _mon_ Prince," and Jean Baptiste snapped a thumb and finger
expressively.
"See, Dewani?" Nana Sahib queried; "I like Hunsa's idea; and you've
heard what the Commandant says."
The Dewan turned to the Bagree, "Will Ajeet consent to the Gulab acting
thus?"
Hunsa's answer was illuminating: "The Chief will agree to it if he
can't help himself."
There was a lull, each one turning this momentous thing over in his
mind.
It was the jamadar who broke the silence; somewhat at a tangent he
said: "As to a decoity, Your Honour said that we being of that
profession should undertake one."
The Dewan roared; the burden of his expostulation was the word liar.
But Nana Sahib laughed tolerantly. "Don't mind me, Dewani; fancy all
the petty rajas and officials stand in with these decoits for a share
of the loot--I don't blame you, old chap."
Hunsa, taking the accusation of being a liar as a pure matter of
course, ignored it, and now was drooling along, wedded to the one big
idea that was in his mind:
"If a decoity were made perhaps it might even happen that one was
killed--"
"Lovely! the 'One' will be, and his name is Ajeet," Nana Sahib cried
gleefully.
But Hunsa plodded steadily on. "In that case Ajeet as Chief would be
in the hands of the Dewan; then it could be mentioned to him that the
Gulab was desired for this mission."
"That might be," the Dewan said quietly. "I will demand that Ajeet
takes the Gulab to help secure Amir Khan and if he refuses I will give
them no rations so that he will go on the decoity."
"No, Dewan Sahib," Hunsa objected; "say nothing of the Gulab, because
Ajeet will refuse, and then he will not go on a decoity, fearing a
trap. If you will refuse the rations now, I will say that you have
promised that we will not be taken up if we make a decoity; then Ajeet
will agree, because it is our profession."
"I must go," Nana Sahib declared; "this Hunsa seems to have brains as
well as ferocity." He continued in English: "If you do go through with
this, Dewan, tell Hunsa if anything happens when they make the
decoity--and if I'm any reader of what is in a man's heart, I think
something will happen the Ajeet--tell Hunsa to bring the Gulab to me.
I like his idea, and we can't afford to let the girl get away. Don't
forget to arrange for the Gulab at my _nautch_."
When Nana Sahib had gone Baptiste diplomatically withdrew, saying in
English to the Minister: "Dewan Sahib, possibly this simple child of
the jungle would feel embarrassment in opening his heart fully before a
sahib, so you will excuse me."
This elimination of individuals gave the Dewan a fine opportunity;
promises made without witnesses were sure to be of a richer texture;
also surely the word of a Dewan was of higher value than the word of a
decoit if, at a future time, their evidences clashed.
Then Hunsa was entrusted with a private matter that filled his ugly
soul with delight. He assured Sewlal Sookdee, if he were promised, as
he had been, full protection, would join in the enmeshing of Ajeet
Singh.
Sewlal pledged his word to the jamadar that no matter if an outcry were
raised over a decoity they would be protected--the matter would be
hushed up.
Hunsa knew that this was no new thing; he had been engaged in many a
decoity where men of authority had a share of the loot, and had
effectually side-tracked investigation. In fact decoits always lived
in the protection of some petty raja; they were an adjunct to the
state, a source of revenue.
The Dewan had intimated that Hunsa and his men were to wait until a
messenger brought them word where and when to make the decoity. Also
if he betrayed them, failed to keep his compact with them, it would
cause him the loss of his ugly head.
The jamadar quite believed this; it would be an easy matter, surrounded
as they were by Mahratta troops.
So then for the next few days Hunsa and Sookdee cautiously developed a
spirit of desire for action amongst the decoits, and a feeling of
resentment against Ajeet who was opposed to engaging in a punishable
crime so far from their refuge.
The Dewan sent for Ajeet and explained to him, as if it were a very
great honour, that Nana Sahib, having heard of Bootea's wonderful
grace, had asked her to appear at a _nautch_ he was giving to the
Sahibs and Hindu princes at his palace. No doubt Bootea would receive
a handsome present for this, also it would incline the heart of the
Prince to the Bagrees.
Ajeet was suspicious, but to refuse permission he knew would anger the
Dewan; and he was in the Minister's hands. His position was none too
secure; there was treachery in his own camp. He asked for a day to
consult Bootea over the matter; in reality he wanted to consider it
more fully before giving an answer.
Of course Hunsa knew about it, and he told Sookdee; and when the matter
came up in camp they professed indignation at Ajeet's stupidity in not
appreciating the honour; dancers were only too glad to appear before
such people as the Prince and the Resident at a palace dance, they
explained.
Of course the matter of Bootea's mission to the Pindari Chief had not
been conveyed to Ajeet as yet; and Hunsa felt that this affair of the
_nautch_ was a propitious thing--an inserting of the thin edge of the
wedge.
Somewhat grudgingly Ajeet consented, for Bootea, strangely enough, was
quite eager over it. As Nana Sahib had fancied the girl had taken an
unexplainable liking for Captain Barlow. Of course that, the call, is
rarely explainable on reasonable grounds--it is a matter of a higher
dispensation; just two pairs of eyes settle the whole business; one
look and the thing is done.
The Sahib would see her in a new light--in an appealing light. In her
thoughts there was nothing of a serious intent; just that to look upon
him, perhaps to see in his eyes a friendly pleasure, would be
intoxication.
So Ajeet took her to the palace to dance, but, of course, he had to
cool his heels without the _durbar_ chamber--smoke the hooka and chat
with other natives while the one of desire was within.
The girl had an exquisite sense of the beauty of simplicity--both in
dress and manner, and in her art; it was as if a lotus flower had been
animated--given life. Her dancing was a floaty rhythm, an undulating
drifting to the soft call of the _sitar_; and her voice, when she sang
the _ghazal_, the love-song, was soft, holding the compelling power of
subdued passion--it thrilled Barlow with an emotion that, when she had
finished, caused him to take himself to task. It was as if he had
said, "By Jove! fancy I've had a bit too much of that champagne--better
look out."
Nana Sahib and the Captain were sitting side by side, and the Gulab,
when she had finished the song, had swept her sinuous lithe form back
in a graceful curtsy in front of the two, and, as if by accident, a red
rose had floated to the feet of Captain Barlow. Surely her soft, dark,
languorous eyes had said: "For thee."
With a cynical smile Nana Sahib picked up the rose and presented it to
Barlow saying: "My dear Captain, you receive the golden apple--beauty
will out."
Barlow's fingers trembled with suppressed emotion as he took the flower
and carefully slipped it into a buttonhole.
Elizabeth, who sat next him, saw this by-play, and her voice was cold
as she commented: "Homage is a delightful thing, but it spoils
children."
Nana Sahib leaned across Barlow: "My dear Miss Hodson, these dancers
always play to the gods--it is their trade. But there is safety in
caste--in _varna_, which is the old Brahmin name for caste, meaning
colour. When the Aryans came down into Hind they were olive-skinned
and the aborigines here were quite black, so, to draw the line, they
created caste and called it _varna_, meaning that they of the light
skin were of a higher order than the aborigines--which they were. A
white skin is like a shirt-of-mail, it protects morally, socially, in
India."
"Ultimately, no doubt, Prince. And, of course, a dance-girl is one of
the fourth caste, practically an outcast--an 'untouchable,'" Elizabeth
commented.
Barlow knew this as a devilish arraignment of himself, for he had felt
a strong attraction. He said nothing; but he was aware of a feeling of
repulsion toward Elizabeth; her harshness, on so slight a provocation,
suggested vindictiveness--a narrow exaction.
Nana Sahib was filled with delight--his evil soul revelled in this
discord. Then and there, if he could have managed it, he would have
suggested to the Captain that he would arrange for the Gulab to meet
him--might even have her sent to his bungalow. But he had the waiting
subtlety of a tiger that crouches by a pool for hours waiting for a
kill; so, somewhat reluctantly, he let the opportunity pass. While he
considered Barlow to be an Englishman possessed of rather slow
perception, he knew that the Captain had a quixotic sense of honour,
and possibly such a proposal might destroy his influence.
And Bootea went back to the camp with Ajeet, suffused to silence by the
strange thing that had happened, the strange infatuation--for it was
that--that had so suddenly filled her heart for the handsome sahib
whose soft, brave eyes had looked through hers into her very soul.