"Is the one alone?" Amir Khan asked when a servant had presented
Barlow's yellow slip of paper.
"But for the orderly that is with him."
"Tell him to enter, and go where your ears will remain safe upon your
head."
The bearer withdrew and Captain Barlow entered, preceded by the
orderly, who, with a deep salaam announced:
"Sultan Amir Khan, it is Ayub Alli who would have audience." Then he
stepped to one side, and stood erect against the wall.
"Salaam, Chief," Barlow said with a sweep of a hand to his forehead,
and Amir Khan from his seat in a black ebony chair inlaid with
pearl-shell and garnets, returned the salutation, asking: "And what
favour would Ayub Alli ask?"
"A petition such as your servant would make is but for the ears of Amir
Khan."
The black eyes of the Pindari, deep set under the shaggy eyebrows, hung
upon the speaker's face with the fierce watchful stab of a falcon's.
Barlow saw the distrust, the suspicion. He unslung from his waist his
heavy pistol, took the _tulwar_ from the wide brass-studded belt about
his waist, and tendered them to the orderly saying: "It is a message of
peace but also it is alone for the ears of Amir Khan."
The Pindari spoke to the orderly, "Go thou and wait below."
When he had disappeared the Pindari rose from the ebon-wood chair,
stretched his tall giant form, and laughed. "Thou art a seemly man,
Ayub Alli, but thinkst thou that Amir Khan would have fear that thou
sendst thy playthings by the orderly?"
"No, Chief, it was but proper. And you will know that the message is
such that none other may hear it."
"Sit on yonder divan, Afghan, and tell this large thing that is in thy
mind."
As Barlow took a seat upon the divan covered by a red-and-green
Bokharan rug, lifting his eyes suddenly, he was conscious of a mocking
smile on the Pindari's lips; and the fierce black eyes were watching
his every move as he slipped a well-strapped sandal from a foot.
Rising, he stepped to the table at one end of which the Pindari sat,
and placing the sandal upon it, said: "If the Chief will slit the
double sole with his knife he will find within that which I have
brought."
"The matter of which you speak, Afghan, is service, and Amir Khan is
not one to perform a service of the hands for any one."
"But if I asked for the Chief's knife, not having one--"
"_Inshalla_! but thou art right; if thou hadst asked for the knife thou
mightst have received it, and not in the sandal," he laughed. The
laugh welled up from his throat through the heavy black beard like the
bubble of a bison bull.
The Pindari reached for the sandal, and as he slit at the leather
thread, he commented: "Thou hast the subtlety of a true Patan; within,
I take it, is something of value, and if it were in a pocket of thy
jacket, or a fold at thy waist, those who might seek it with one slit
of their discoverer, which is a piece of broken glass carrying an edge
such as no blade would have, would take it up. But a man's sandals
well strapped on are removed but after he is dead."
"Bismillah!" The Pindari had the paper spread flat upon the black
table and saw the seal of the British Raj. He seemed to ponder over
the document as if the writing were not within his interpretation.
Then he said: "We men of the sword have not given much thought to the
pen, employing scribblers for that purpose, but to-morrow a _mullah_
will make this all plain."
Barlow interrupted the Chief. "Shall I read the written word?"
"What would it avail? Hereon is the seal of the _Englay_ Raj, but as
you read the thumb of the Raj would not be upon your lip in the way of
a seal. The _mullah_ will interpret this to me. Is it of an
alliance?" he asked suddenly.
"It is, Chief."
The Pindari laughed: "Holker would give me a camel-load of gold rupees
for this and thy head: Sindhia might add a province for the same."
"True, Chief. And has Amir Khan heard a whisper of reward and a dress
of honour from Sindhia's Dewan for his head?"
"Afghan, there is always a reward for the head of Amir Khan; but a gift
is of little value to a man who has lost his life in the trying.
Without are guards ready to run a sword through even a shadow, and here
I could kill three."
He raised his black eyes and scanned the form of Ayub Alli. There was
a quizzical smile on his lips as he said:
"Go back and sit thee upon the divan."
When Barlow had taken his place, the Chief laughed aloud, saying, "Well
done, Captain Sahib; thou art perfect as a Patan; even to the manner of
sitting down one would have thought that, except for a saddle, thou
hadst always sat upon thy heels."
Barlow smiled good humouredly, saying, "It is even so; I am Captain
Barlow. And this,"--he tapped the loose baggy trousers of the Afghan
hillman, and the sheepskin coat with the wool inside--"was not in the
way of deceit but for protection on the road."
"It is well thought of," the Pindari declared, "for a Sahib travelling
alone through Rajasthan would be robbed by a Mahratta or killed by a
Rajput. But as to the deceiving of Amir Khan, dost thou suppose that
he gives to a Patan the paper of admittance, or of passing, such as he
gave to thee. Even at the audience I was pleased with thy manner of
disguise."
Barlow was startled. "Did you know then that I was a Sahib--how did
you know?"
"Because thou wert placed in my hand in the way of protection."
Then Barlow surmised that of all outside his own caste there could be
but one, and he knew that she was in the camp, for he had seen her.
"It was a woman."
"A rare woman; even I, Chief of the Pindaris--and we are not bred to
softness--say that she is a pearl."
"They call her the Gulab," Barlow ventured.
"She is well named the Gulab; the perfume of her is in my nostrils
though it mixes ill with the camel smell. Without offence to Allah I
can retain her for it is in the Koran that a man may have four wives
and I have but two."
"But the Gulab is of a different faith," Barlow objected and a chill
hung over his heart.
The Pindari laughed. "The Sahibs have agents for the changing of
faith, those who wear the black coat of honour; and a _mullah_ will
soon make a good Musselmani of the beautiful little infidel. Of
course, Sahib, there is the other way of having a man's desire which is
the way of all Pindaris; they consider women as fair loot when the
sword is the passport through a land. But as to the Gulab, the flower
is most too fair for a crushing. In such a matter as I have spoken of
the fragrance is gone, and a man, when he crushes the weak, has
conflict with himself."
"It's a topping old barbarian, this leader of cut-throats," Barlow
admitted to himself; but in his mind was a horror of the fate meant for
the girl. And somehow it was a sacrifice for him, he knew, an
enlargement of the love that had shown in the soft brown eyes. As he
listened schemes of stealing the Gulab away, of saving her were
hurtling through his brain.
"And mark thee, Sahib, Amir Khan has found favour with the little
flower, for when I thought of an audience with her in her own tent--for
to be a leader of men, in possession of two wives, and holding strong
by the faith of Mahomet, it is as well to be circumspect--the Gulab
warned me that a knife might be presented as I slept. A jealous lover,
perhaps, I think--it would not have been Ayub Alli by any chance?"
What Barlow was thinking, was, "A most subtle animal, this." And he
now understood why the Pindari, as if he had forgotten the message, was
talking of the Gulab; as an Oriental he was coming to the point in
circles.
"It was not, Chief," Barlow answered. "A British officer on matters of
state, would break his _izzat_ (honour) if he trifled with women."
"Put thy hand upon thy beard, Afghan--though thou hast not one--and
swear by it that it was not thee the woman meant when she spoke of a
knife, for I like thee."
Barlow put his hand to his chin. "I swear that there was nothing of
evil intent against Amir Khan in my heart," he said; "and that is the
same as our oath, for it is but one God that we both worship."
The Chief again let float from his big throat his low, deep, musical
laugh.
"An oath is an oath, nothing more. To trust to it and go to sleep in
its guardianship, one may never wake up. Even the gods cannot bind a
heart that is black with words. It was one of my own name who swore on
the shrine of Eklinga at Udaipur friendship for a Prince of Marwar, and
changed turbans with him, which is more binding than eating opium
together, then slew him like a dog. Of my faith, an oath, 'by the
Beard of the Prophet,' is more binding, I think. Too many gods, such
as the men of Hind have, produce a wavering. But thou hast sworn to
the truth as I am a witness. The delay of an audience was that thou
mightst be well watched before much had been said, for a child at play
hides nothing, and if thou hadst gone but once to the tent of the
Gulab, Amir Khan would have known.
"But as to this,"--his hand tapped the document--"it has been said that
the British Raj doles out the lives of its servants as one doles grain
in a time of famine. If an envoy, such as a Raja sends in a way of
pride, came with this, and were made a matter of sacrifice, perhaps
twenty lives would have paid of the trying, but as it is, but one is
the account."
Barlow shot a quick searching look into the Pindari's eyes; was it a
covert threat? But he answered: "It is even so, it was spoken of as a
matter for two, but--"
The Chief laughed: "I know, Sahib; thou art pleasing to me. Of the
Sahibs I have little knowledge, but I have heard it said they were a
race of white Rajputs, save that they did not kill a brother or a
father for the love of killing. What service want they of Amir Khan?"
"There are rumours that the Mahrattas, forgetting the lessons they have
received--both Holkar and Sindhia having been thoroughly beaten by the
British--are secretly preparing war."
"A _johur_, a last death-rush, is it not?"
"They will be smashed forever, and their lands taken."
"But the King of Oudh has been promised a return to glory to join in
this revolt. The fighting Rajputs--what of them? Backed by the
English they should hold these black accursed Mahrattas in check."
Barlow rose and, the wary eyes of the Chief on every move, stepped over
to the table and pointed to a signature upon the document.
"That," he said, "is the signature of the Rana of Mewar, meaning that
he also passes the salt of friendship to Amir Khan."
He turned the document over, and there written upon it was the figure
"74 1/2."
"Bismillah!" the Chief cried for he had not noticed this before; "it is
the _tilac_, the Rana's sealing of the document; it is the mystic
number that means that the contents are sacred, that the curse of the
Sack of Fort Chitor be upon him who violates the seal, it is the oath
of all Rajputs--_tilac_, that which is forbidden. And the Sahibs have
heard a rumour that Amir Khan has a hundred thousand horsemen to cut in
with. Even Sindhia is afraid of me and desires my head. The Sahibs
have heard and desire my friendship."
"That is true, Chief."
"This is the right way," and the Pindari brought his palm down upon the
Government message. "I have heard men say that the English were like
children in the matter of knowing nothing but the speaking of truth; I
have heard some laugh at this, accounting it easy to circumvent an
enemy when one has knowledge of all his intentions, but truth is
strength. We have faith in children because they have not yet learned
the art of a lie. In two days, Captain Sahib, thou wilt be called to
an audience." He rose from his chair, and, with a hand to his forehead
said: "Salaam, Sahib. May the protection of Allah be upon you!"
"Salaam, Chief," Barlow answered, and he held out a hand with a boyish
frankness that caused the Pindari to grasp it, and the two stood, two
men looking into each other's eyes.
"Go thou now, Sahib; thou art a man. Go alone and with quiet, for I
would view this message and put it in yonder strong box before others
enter."