Captain Barlow and Bootea had gone from the scene of the murder through
the long dim-lighted hall, its walls broken here and there by niches of
mystery, some of them closed by marble fretwork screens that might have
been doors, and down the marble stairway, in silence. Barlow had
slipped a hand under her arm in the way of both a physical and mental
sustaining; his fingers tapped her arm in affectionate approbation.
Once he muttered to himself in English, "Splendid girl!" and not
comprehending, the Gulab turned her star-eyes upward to his face.
At the gate the soldier who had accompanied them spoke to the guard,
and the latter, standing on a step bellowed: "Ho, ye Pindaris, here
goes forth the Afghan in innocence of the foul crime! Above they have
the slayer, who was Hunsa the thug; and, Praise be to Allah! they will
apply the torture. Let him pass in peace, all ye. And take care that
no one molest the beautiful Gulab. The peace of Allah upon the soul of
the great Amir Khan!"
A rippling thunder of deep voices vibrated the thronged street, crying,
"Allah Akbar! the peace of God be upon the soul of the dead Chief!"
A lane was opened up to them by the grim, wild-eyed, bandit-looking
horsemen, _tulwar_ over shoulder and knives in belt, who called: "Back
ye! the favoured of the Commander passes. Back, make way! 'tis an
order."
The faces of the soldiers that had been wreathed in revenge and
blood-lust when Barlow had been brought, were now friendly, and there
were cries of "Salaam, brother! salaam, Flower of the Desert!" for it
had been spread that the Gulab had discovered the murderer, had
denounced him.
"Brave little Gulab!" Barlow said in a low voice, bending his head to
look into her eyes, for he felt the arm trembling against his hand.
She did not answer, and he knew that she was sobbing.
When they were past the turbulent crowd he said, "Bootea, your people
will all have fled or been captured."
"Yes, Sahib," she gasped.
"Perhaps even your maid servant will have been taken."
"No, Sahib, they would not take her; her home is here."
By her side he travelled to where the now deserted tents of the decoits
stood silent and dark, like little pagodas of sullen crime. A light
flickered in one tent, and silhouetted against its canvas side they
could see the form of a woman crouched with her head in her hands.
"The maid is there," Barlow said: "but it is not enough. I will bring
my blankets and sleep here at the door of your tent."
"No, Sahib, it is not needed," the girl protested.
"Yes, Bootea, I will come." Then with a little laugh he added; "The
gods have ordained that we take turns at protecting each other. It is
now my turn; I will come soon."
She turned her small oval face up to look at this wonderful man, to
discover if he were really there, that it was not some kindly god who
would vanish. He clasped the face, with its soul of adoration, in his
two palms and kissed her. Then fearing that she would fall, for she
had closed her eyes and reeled, he took her by the arm, opened the flap
of the tent, and steadied her into the arms of her handmaid.
It was a fitful night's sleep for Barlow; the beat of horses' hoofs on
the streets or the white sands beyond was like the patter of rain on a
roof. There were hoarse bull-throated cries of men who rode hither and
thither; tremulous voices floated on the night air wild dirges, like
the weird Afghan love song. Sometimes a long smooth-bore barked its
sharp call. At sunrise the Captain was roused from this tiring sleep
by the strident weird sing-song of the Mullah sending forth from a
minaret of the palace his call to the faithful to prayer, prayer for
the dead Chief. And when the voice had ceased its muezzin:
"Allah Akbar, Allah Akbar;
Confess that there is no God but God;
Confess that Mohammad is the prophet of God;
Come to Prayer, Come to Prayer,
For Prayer is better than Sleep."
the big drums sent forth a thundering reverberation. He could hear the
voices of the two women within, and called, "Bootea, Bootea!"
The Galub came shyly from the tent saying, "Salaam, Sahib." Then she
stood with her eyes drooped waiting for him to speak.
"It is this, Bootea," Barlow said, "do not go away until I am ready to
depart, then I will take you where you wish to go."
"If it is permitted, Sahib, I will wait," she answered as simply as a
child.
Barlow put a finger under her chin, and lifting her face smiled like a
great boy, saying: "Gulab, you are wonderfully sweet."
Then Barlow went to the _serai_, looked after his horse, had his
breakfast, and passed back into the town. He saw a continuous stream
of men moving toward the small river that swept southward, to the east
of the town, and asking of one the cause was told that the _ahiria_
(murderer)--for now Hunsa was known as the murderer--was being sent on
his way. The speaker was a Rajput. "It is strange, Afghan," he said,
"that one who has slain the Chief of these wild barbarians, who are
without gods, should be allowed to depart in peace. We Rajputs worship
a god that visits the sin upon the head of the sinner, but the order
has been passed that no man shall harm the slayer of Amir Khan.
Perhaps it is whispered in the Bazaar that Commander Kassim coveted the
Chiefship."
Barlow being in the guise of a Musselman said solemnly: "Allah will
punish the murderer, mark you well, man of Rajasthan."
"As to that, Afghan, one stroke of a _tulwar_ would put the matter
beyond doubt; as it is, let us push forward, because I see from yonder
steady array of spears that the Pindaris ride toward the river, and I
think the prisoner is with them. It was one Hunsa, a thug, and though
the thugs worship Bhowanee, they are worse than the _mhangs_ who are of
no caste at all."
As Barlow came to where the town reached to the river bank he saw that
the concourse of people was heading south along the river. This was
rather strange, for a bridge of stone arches traversed by the aid of
two islands the Nahal to the other side. A quarter of a mile lower
down he came to where the river, that above wandered in three channels
over a rocky bed, now glided sluggishly in one channel. It was like a
ribboned lake, smooth in its slow slip over a muddy bed, and circling
in a long sweep to the bank. On the level plain was a concourse of
thousands, horsemen, who sat their lean-flanked Marwari or Cabul horses
as though they waited to swing into a parade, the march past. The
_sowars_ Barlow had seen in the town were in front of him, riding four
abreast, and at a command from their leader, opened up and formed a
scimitar-shaped band, their horses' noses toward the river. As he came
close Barlow saw Kassim in a group of officers, and Hunsa, a soldier on
either side of him, was standing free and unshackled in front of the
Commander. Save for the clanking of a bit, or the clang of a
spear-haft against a stirrup, or the scuffle of a quick-turning horse's
hoofs, a silence rested upon that vast throng. Wild barbaric faces
held a look of expectancy, of wonderment, for no one knew why the order
had been passed that they were to assemble at that point.
Kassim caught sight of Barlow as he drew near, and raising his hand in
a salute, said: "Come close, Sahib, the slayer of Amir Khan, in
accordance with my promise, is to go from our midst a free man. His
punishment has been left to Allah, the one God."
Without more ado he stretched forth his right arm impressively toward
the murky stream, that, where it rippled at some disturbance carried on
its bosom ribbons of gold where the sun fell, saying:
"Yonder lies the way, infidel, strangler, slayer of a follower of the
Prophet! Depart, for, failing that, it lacks but an hour till the sun
reaches overhead, and thy time will have elapsed--thou will die by the
torture. You are free, even as I attested by the Beard of the Prophet.
And more, what is not in the covenant,"--Kassim drew from beneath his
rich brocaded vest the dagger of Amir Khan, its blade still carrying
the dried blood of the Chief--"this is thine to keep thy vile life if
you can. Seest thou if the weapon is still wedded to thy hand. It is
that thou goest hand-in-hand with thy crime."
He handed the knife to a soldier with a word of command, and the man
thrust it in the belt of Hunsa. Even as Kassim ceased speaking two
round bulbs floated upon the smooth waters of the sullen river, and
above them was a green slime; then a square shovel just topped the
water, and Barlow could hear, issuing from the thing of horror, a
breath like a sigh. He shuddered. It was a square-nosed _mugger_
(crocodile) waiting. And beyond, the water here and there swirled, as
if a powerful tail swept it.
And Hunsa knew; his evil swarthy face turned as green as the slime upon
the crocodile's forehead; his powerful naked shoulders seemed to
shrivel and shrink as though blood had ceased to flow through his
veins. He put his two hands, clasped palm to palm, to his forehead in
supplication, and begged that the ordeal might pass, that he might go
by the bridge, or across the desert, or any way except by that pool of
horrors.
Kassim again swept his hand toward the river and his voice was horrible
in its deadliness: "These children of the poor that are sacred to some
of thy gods, infidel, have been fed; five goats have allotted them as
sacrifice and they wait for thee. They serve Allah and not thy gods
to-day. Go, murderer, for we wait; go unless thou art not only a
murderer but a coward, for it is the only way. It was promised that no
Pindari should wound or kill thee, dog, but they will help thee on thy
way."
Hunsa at this drew himself up, his gorilla face seemed to fill out with
resolve; he swept the vast throng of horsemen with his eyes, and
realised that it was indeed true--there was nothing left but the pool
and the faint, faint chance that, powerful swimmer that he was, and
with the knife, he might cross. Once his evil eyes rested on Kassim
and involuntarily a hand twitched toward the dagger hilt; but at that
instant he was pinioned, both arms, by a Pindari on either side. Then,
standing rigid, he said:
"I am Hunsa, a Bagree, a servant of Bhowanee; I am not afraid. May she
bring the black plague upon all the Pindaris, who are dogs that worship
a false god."
He strode toward the waters, the soldiers, still a hand on either arm,
marching beside him. On the clay bank he put his hands to his
forehead, calling in a loud voice: "_Kali Mia_, receive me!" Then he
plunged head first into the pool.
A cry of "Allah! Allah!" went up from ten thousand throats as the
Bagree shot from view, smothered in the foam of the ruffled stream.
And beyond the waters were churned by huge ghoulish forms that the
blood of goats had gathered there. Five yards from the bank the ugly
head of Hunsa appeared; a brown arm flashed once, in the fingers
clutched a knife that seemed red with fresh blood. The water was
lashed to foam; the tail of a giant _mugger_ shot out and struck flat
upon the surface of the river like the crack of a pistol. Again the
head, and then the shoulders, of the swimmer were seen; and as if
something dragged the torso below, two legs shot out from the water,
gyrated spasmodically, and disappeared.
Barlow waited, his soul full of horror, but there was nothing more;
just a little lower down in the basin of the sluggish pool two bulbous
protrusions above the water where some crocodile, either gorged or
disappointed, floated lazily.
A ghastly silence reigned--no one spoke; ten thousand eyes stared out
across the pool.
Then the voice of Kassim was heard, solemn and deep, saying: "The
covenant has been kept and Allah has avenged the death of Amir Khan!"