An omen of dire import all thugs believe is to hear the cry of a kite
between midnight and dawn; to hear it before midnight does not matter,
for the sleeper in turning over smothers the impending disaster beneath
his body. But Captain Barlow had put up no such defence if evil hung
over him, for when the _chowkidar_ stood outside the door calling
softly, "Captain Sahib! Captain Sahib!" Barlow lay just as he had
flopped on the bed, his tiredness having held him as one dead.
Gently the soft voice of the _chowkidar_ pulled him back out of his
Nirvana of non-existence, and he called sleepily, "What is it?"
"It is Jungwa," the watchman answered, "and I have received the Sahib's
order to come at this hour."
Then Barlow remembered. He swung his feet to the floor, saying, "Come!"
When the watchman had walked out of his sandals to approach in his bare
feet, the Captain said, "Is your tongue still to remain in your mouth,
Jungwa, or has it been made sacrifice to the knife for the sin of
telling in the cookhouse tales of your Sahib and last night?"
"No, Sahib, I have not spoken. I am a Meena of the Ossary _jat_. In
Jaipur we guard the treasury and the zenanna of the Raja, and it is our
chief who puts the _tika_ upon the forehead of the Maharaja when he
ascends to the throne. Think you, then, Sahib, that an Ossary would
betray a trust?"
Barlow fixed the lean saffron-hued face with a searching look, and
muttered, "Damned if I don't believe the old chap is straight!" "I
think it is true," he said. "Shut the door." Then he continued: "The
one who came last night is in the next room and you must take her out
through the bathroom door, for there is cover of the crotons and
oleanders, and then to the road. Acquire a _gharry_ and go with her to
where she directs you."
"Salaam, Sahib! your servant will obey. And as to the _chota hazri_,
Sahib?"
"By Jove! right you are, Jungwa"; for Barlow had forgotten that--the
little breakfast, as it was called.
Then he ran his fingers through his hair. To send the Gulab off
without even a cup of tea was one thing; to admit the bearer to know of
her presence was another.
The wily old watchman sensed what was passing in his master's mind, and
he hazarded, diplomatically, "If the One is of high caste she will not
eat what is brought by the bearer who is of the Sudra caste, but from
the hands of a Meena none but the Brahmin _pundits_ refuse food."
Barlow laughed; indeed the grizzled one had perception--he was an
accomplice in the plot of secrecy.
"Good! Eggs and toast and tea. Demand plenty--say your Sahib is
hungry because of a long ride and nothing to eat. But hurry, I hear
the 'seven sisters' (crows) calling to sleepers that the sun is here
with its warmth."
Then the bearer entered, but Barlow ordered him away, saying, "Sit
without till I call."
As he slipped into breeches and brown riding boots he cursed softly the
entanglement that had thrust upon him this thing of ill flavour. Of
course the watchman, even if he did keep his mouth shut, which would be
a miracle in that land of bazaar gossip, would have but one opinion of
why Bootea had spent the night in the bungalow. But if Barlow squared
this by speaking of a secret mission, that would be a knowledge that
could be exchanged for gold. Perhaps not all servants were spies, but
there were always spies among servants.
"Damn the thing!" he muttered; but he was helpless. The old man would
give no sign of what, no doubt, was in his mind; he would hold that
leathery face in placid acquiescence in prevalent moral vagary.
Then he tapped lightly on the wooden door, calling softly,
"Bootea--Bootea!"
When it was opened he said: "Food is coming, Gulab. A man of caste
brings it, and it is but eggs from which no life has been taken, so you
may eat. Then the _chowkidar_ will go with you."
Jungwa brought the breakfast and put it down, saying, "I will wait,
Sahib, outside the bathroom door."
"Here is money--ten rupees for whatever is needed. Be courteous to the
lady, for she is not a _nautchni_."
"The Sahib would entertain none such," the _chowkidar_ answered with a
grave salaam.
"Damn the thing!" Barlow groaned.